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strayed away and died! They scent blood afar off,— their note is harrowing!-Come away,-come away,—I will conduct you home!"

He grasped Marion by the wrist, and was leading her away, when two of the ravens rose up in clamorous combat for a disputed morsel. Unable to direct their course, the wind carried them back towards the spot where Marcus and Marion were standing; and a part of the contended booty, dropping from their beaks, was wafted to the feet of the latter. She eagerly snatched it up, it was a curly lock of black hair! A momentary impulse endowed her with twice the strength of Marcus, and she wrenched her arm from his grasp.

"Yonder carcass," she exclaimed hysterically, "is neither stag nor steer;" and she sprang towards the scene with a supernatural swiftness. Marcus uttered a vain cry to restrain her, and disappeared, feeling his way more than seeing it, as though the world afforded no home and no purpose to direct his course.

Shortly after, Edith arrived at the place where they had parted, having traced the small foot of her sister in the damp soil. She was alarmed to find it turn in amongst the brambles, and called out, but received no answer! The wind blew her voice back, and the tortuous stems of ragged Scots fir, intermixed with every other species of hardy plant, permitted her eager glance to penetrate but a few yards. She forced her way into the maze, and, by the aid of the boughs, clambered

partly up the side of the valley, to where a large scale that had fallen from the rocks had separated into fragments upon a bank of yellow sand, overgrown with fern and furze. It was called the Badger's Bank, being filled with the earths of that animal, which shared it in common with the wild cat, and birds of prey that came thither to gorge upon victims! Amidst the ruin of this scene stood Marion,-her long black hair streaming in the blast, and her arms extended to scare away a multitude of the dismal birds which had directed her thither. At her feet lay the form of Vibert,—his face overspread with its last hue, and his temples shattered to pieces!

When search was made, the sisters were found still protecting the body, and both bereft of reason! Edith had loved Vibert no less fervently than Marion had done; but her devotion to her had rendered silence no sacrifice. To see her sister happy was to be blessed herself; and had it not been for this unlooked-for catastrophe, her secret would never have been known!

We will not swell our history with an account of the long interval that elapsed ere the sisters were restored, in a degree, to their right minds. Their first question, on their partial recovery, related to Vibert's uncle: his infirm frame had sunk beneath his affliction, and he lay in the family vault, beside his unfortunate nephew! There was yet another name, which neither of them dared to pronounce! But the question was divined; and Marcus, they were told, had never been heard of;— a body, too decayed to

be recognized, had been found in a distant forest, and might have been his; it was but a surmise, and, whether true or false, there has never been any other.

Years passed away; but the characters of Marion and Edith resumed no more their natural tone. The last was never seen to smile again, nor the first to drop a tear ;misfortune had stricken them into a strange apathy, and their only pleasure was to wander, linked in each other's arms, upon the high grounds, from whence they could descry the church where Vibert lay. They were never seen elsewhere, nor in any society but that of each other, although all the world were their friends. Those who had loved them respected their sorrow too much to intrude upon it; and those who had been jealous of being outshone, had ceased to have any cause. The admirers who had pursued them turned sadly from their vague regard, and would as soon have thought of obtaining the stars themselves.

This lasted but a few years. The fatal remembrance, which slept neither night nor day, drank greedily of the springs of life! They faded almost to phantoms, and death seemed to think his prey scarcely worth the striking; for their departure was unmarked by a single pang. Edith, whose natural temperament had the least repose, was the first to drop;-she died clasping her sister's neck; and Marion followed, in time to be interred in the same grave!*

* The leading incidents of this little narrative are true; the names of the parties only having been altered.

D

CLEOPATRA.

BY T. K. HERVEY, ESQ.

The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,

Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold:

Purple the sails; and so perfumed that

The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver;

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made

The water which they beat to follow faster,

As amorous of their strokes.

SHAKSPEARE.

FLUTES in the sunny air!

I.

And harps in the porphyry halls!

And a low, deep hum,-like a people's prayer,

With its heart-breathed swells and falls!

And an echo, like the desart's call,

Flung back to the shouting shores !

And the river's ripple, heard through all,

As it plays with the silver oars!-

The sky is a gleam of gold!

And the amber breezes float,

Like thoughts to be dreamed of,-but never told,— Around the dancing boat!

[graphic]

Published by Longman, Rees, Orme Brown & Green Nov. 1828.

Printed by McQueen.

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