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Nor shall the freight that once it bore Again be seen on lake or shore.

A foreign land is now her choice,

A foreign sky above her, And unfamiliar is each voice

Of those that say they love her. A prince's palace is her home, And marble floor and gilded dome, Where festive myriads nightly meet, Quick echoes of her steps repeat. And she is gay at times, and light From her makes many faces bright; And circling flatterers hem her in Assiduous each a word to win, And smooth as mirrors each the while Reflects and multiplies her smile. But fitful were her smiles, nor long She cast them to that courtly throng ; And should the sound of music fall Upon her ear in that high hall, The smile was gone,

that shone So brightly, would be dimmed anon,

the eye

And objectless would then appear
As stretched to check the starting tear.
The chords within responsive rung,
For music spoke her native tongue.

And then the gay and glittering crowd
Is heard not, laugh they e'er so loud ;
Nor then is seen the simpering row
Of flatterers, bend they e'er so low;
For there before her, where she stands,
The mountains rise, the lake expands ;
Around the terraced summit twines
The leafy coronal of vines ;
Within the watery mirror deep
Nature's calm converse lies asleep;
Above she sees the sky's blue glow,
The forest's varied green below,
And far its vaulted vistas through
A distant grove of darker hue,
Where mounting high from clumps of oak
Curls lightly up the thin gray smoke;
And o'er the boughs that over-bower

The crag, a castle's turrets tower-
An eastern casement mantled o'er

With ivy flashes back the gleam
Of sun-rise it was there of

yore She sate to see that sun-rise pour Its splendour round—she sees no more,

For tears disperse the dream.

Thus seized and speechless had she stood,
Surveying mountain, lake, and wood,
When to her ear came that demand
Had she forgot her native land ?
'Twas but a voice within replied
She had forgotten all beside.
For words are weak and most to seek

When wanted fifty-fold,
And then if silence will not speak,
Or trembling lip and changing cheek,

There's nothing told.
But could she have revealed to him

Who questioned thus, the vision bright, That ere his words were said



And vanished from her sight, Easy the answer were to know

And plain to understand,

That mind and memory both must fail,

And life itself must slacken sail, And thought its functions must forego, And fancy lose its latest glow,

Or ere that land Could pictured be less bright and fair To her whose home and heart are there ! That land the loveliest that eye can see The stranger ne'er forgets, then how should she ?

-Cease the soft sounds, the mellow voice is mute,
And quivers to a close that plaintive lady's lute.-
Pass we to matters masculine ; to strains
Where weightier themes may pay the er's pains.
Again disclose we counsels of the wise,
Deeds of the warlike :- let the Curtain rise.




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