He ceased-and Mary had withdrawn

From her sweet face her veiling hands;
And Hope abruptly seemed to dawn
O'er her pale cheek, and stay the fears
That trembled in her spell-bound tears.

But hard and harsh the father stands,
And though within him might be lurking
The milk of human kindness-nought
Of yielding love, or gentle thought
Upon his rigid brow is working.

When once a man's mind is resolved,
"Tis useless to his heart appealing,
You can't get through the leaves involved
Around his artichoke of feeling.

The Saint who thought his child a catch,
Wish'd her to make a proper match;'
He hoped perhaps a Lord-a clever
Member of Parliament however!

So you may judge the youth was ill able
To melt him by a single syllable.

"Well! have you done?" was all he said.

"Mary, your hand-we'll go to bed.
"Excuse me, Sir-you'll find the door

"Where you have found it, Sir, before.

Up stairs-upon the youth one look

One look of anguish Mary cast.

And then he was alone,

Father and child were gone!

He stands with downcast eyes,
Nor speaks, nor stirs ;

His thought his spirit flies

To blend with hers!

Until, dissolved, the cold thoughts flow

Back on his startled heart;
And with a quiet step and slow,
He turns him to depart.

Then the harsh-tongued and desolate
Sound of the closing door,

Heavily rose where Mary sate,

And taunts and chidings bore.
Bore with so meek yet crush'd an air,
That Hodges could not but forbear,

To wound too deep so soft a breast;
And, as himself was very tired,
He soon resolved that, till the morning,
All farther scolding, threat, and warning,
Should kindly be supprest.

He rose, and solemnly desired

She'd say her prayers and go to sleep,

And, begging also she'd not weep

Herself into the scarlet fever,

He left-as we will also leave her.

Change we the scene— -To ·

square,

Au trosième with the Muse repair.

See in that room-the drapery's blue-
A little party met at loo:

Young-single-beautiful-in short,

The veriest rose-buds of the court.
Poor Lady Frances, you must know,
Caught a bad cold some nights ago.
And, freed awhile from courtly duty,
At home behold the languid beauty,
Whiling the tedium that attends

On sickness, with some bosom friends,
And loosed from chaperons and mothers,
Chatting on love and elder brothers.
It makes one's heart beat to behold
Sweet girls together uncontrolled;
Guileless but gay—and tho' without us
Talking-dear creatures! all about us.

""Tis I to deal-you saw their pearls?
"I own-I never liked those girls,
"And yet the stupid men they charm.
"Jane's head is good-but such an arm!
"What made her like that Mr. Frere,

"The odious man-what!-diamonds dear?

"So George will marry Bell, they say-
"Poor thing!-he's been extremely gay;
"I own it gave me great surprise-
"He's handsome!--Yes--such charming eyes!
"The Duke at first refused consent,

"But Bell upon the match was bent--
"He'd scarce a sous !--was that the rub-

"What made him live so well?

-a club. “Well, they'll be happy, for he sings

"Such songs-she wears the prettiest things! "With great economy they'll do--

66

They've hired Lord Henry's house at Kew. "Love ev'n the poorest couple blesses, "And Carson makes the prettiest dresses. "Is that the deuce?-fie, love-the two!

" O Lord!”—here shrieks appal the hearing, For at the casement to their view,

A deuce-like two indeed appearing; One face gay, grinning with delight, The other sad and grave as night--Yet both in dusky hue alike,

And strange uncouth, outlandish features---Enough, in real truth, to strike

Some terror into those sweet creatures.

Half in the room, and half without,
They pause a moment as in doubt;
Not so the damsels--through the door
Each struggling to be first, they pour,

And really it was quite heart-breaking
To hear so sad a waste of shrieking.
Such sounds, if lavished on the stage,
Had made e'en merit quite the rage.
Scarce more terrific, or more loud
The clamour of the Bromian crowd,
When Pentheus, as old tales recount,
Lay hid on grey Citharon's mount,
And strove, rash Monarch! to discover
What ladies do-when half seas over!

So there arrested in amazement,
Still pause our Brothers at the casement.
Quoth Ching at last-" Upon my soul,
I think her conduct vastly droll,
Perhaps her feelings quite betray'd her,
At such a public honour paid her.
What think you ?”.

Chang, serene and cool

Replied---" O Ching, you are a fool!

Enough I've now in sober sadness,

Conceded to this shallow madness.
Come-danger dwelleth in delay,

Retreat we safely while we may."

"You're quite enough to make a man swear,” Cried Ching-when suddenly his answer

Dies on his lips, as half a score

Of menials rush within the door.