.::: • 7 _, • 447 k [I). 1:1)11%nt AND pi to iglu:Ton VOL. XVII.-I.j.t A soldier of tii. Legion lay dying in A Igieri. There wto lark of iva.n there wai doarth nt woman's Ilut a contrail' , stood beside hint, while his life-blood ebbedalloy, n And bent, with pitying glace:l. to hear what he mi g ht say. The dying soldier faltered its he took that eontrado's hand, And he said, I 'lover more shall son my own, my native land ; Take a inesago and a token to some list: nt friond of mind. For I was horn at Bingen—at Bingen on the Rhine. To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground. That u•e liaight the battle liravely,—anil when the day WIIA Full many a core lily ghastly pale beneath the settin!r . . . . And midst thy tioad and dcin} xvvre soon• grown obi in wars.— 'rho death-wound on Ilioir gallant broa..a.:l, thr. i.r.::t of nionv scars BM SI)11w wort , von toz,—anti suddenly hel u •ld life's morn tiorline,— A itd one bad runic (tout liing,ll,—lbir liiio.;eti 011 Ike 101111 V I. 'l't , ll my 'Alotlivr, (kit her other son: SllOll comfort her old age, And I nas n)•e a truant bird that lhonght his holm. a cage . : For nn• father %\'',lS a sohlivr, and ec,•n as a child hart lv.ipvd forth to liar hint tell of strtniglvs livree and wild ; And when dip died, and left us to dividi , his svanty hoard, I let them take tvhatr•er they would—but kept itly father's ett•nrd ; And with hovish low I limn; it when• Ow bright light itsvd to shin( (i the cotta,,•-w.tlf at liill4oll—calm Blll4l'll all the !thine. Tell my lister nut 1,, weep for no', nod soh with droo l head. drooping o. %Vi t en the t roo p s ale Inarehing home again, with glad and gallant tr But to look upon them proudly, with :realm niol steadfast eye, For her brother was a solder, too. and not afraid 'to die. And it' a comrade seek her lose. I :ink her in my mime 'fo rimer, to hint without regret of shame; A n d t o hang the old sword in its place, (my father's ,:word arid mil For the honor of old llingen—dear lain ;en ou the Rhine ! a ;—iii Ilu OU I 'V,' k !WWII We .y Il!' turrrim^nl 111.11 ::par: 'l'on innovent for opilirlry—t.o Jul;1 , for i,ll, ()I1 ! •liar t 1 112.11105 t 11,,itt lwavicA mourn 6a,7 Inclhi> 111,,,,n hr ri:.‘c:t illy hotly will he out Fain—to wntl lw out of prison,) dreamed I ,tood ‘vitlt nr.u, and s.t \v yellotv unli.lit shin ( I )11 the ‘int•-t•lad hills of I;togen—lair Bingen on the 'thine ! n I gt'lly the Idur nbilie ,:tveep along—T heard, (.1 ,:reni...l to hear, Tlw Gorman :::w.gs we used in t-ing. in chorn,,,Aveet :Ind clear. Anil duo; 114 the rlew:ant river. and up the sliiiitini T hill. - 'l'lll, erliniipz chums wonoled, through the ev‘ ning calm and .till: And her glad Nat; eves \Veil . on Me, w,. I , :[sse d ta n ; I)ovvn many n poult beloved of pm., !old well-rentemhored teal ; And her little hand lay lightly. confidingly in wine. lint we'll inert no more aViiingen—lo‘ tliw.cen on the Rhine. " 111 A VOll.l. grew Clint :old logirser.—his grasp was childish ‘NT:ik.--. Ills eyes put till a dyilot . look.—he !a u l le d ali d r _o .nNe d t o s p ea k t ..Ifiscolurade bent to lilt him. but nu. spark of 16 had The soldier of the I,egiul'i in a forei , 2li land was d ea d ! Allfi flit' sort 1110 , 111 T4l4i, u p slo‘vly. and calmly she look e d down (ht the red sand (df the hattle-lield, I%.ith rorp,a;s: 'drown : Vea., calmly it,, that dreadful scene her pale liultt seemed to shine. As it shown oil distant Ilingen—fair .I.tiluten on , the Rhine ISCE A N Ilope and Memory. By 118 F, s OrIC N 1" A little, baby lay i n on, ( .„„di e, „„d IToltr his immensity. Man alone lias said "there came and kissed it. When its nurse gave is 110 (.;1"/ !" Unite ill thought , at the it a cake, ii„ lte prom i se d „„„d icr to -„„, r _ same instant. the most beautiful objects of row ; and when its vont!" sister brought a nature ; suppose that you see at mire all d ower, over which it idappvtl its w i ng , the hours of the day, 'all the year, a morn and crowed, Hope told of brighter ones, jug 01. SPring• and a morning of Autumn ; which it would gather for itself. a night bespangled with stars, and a night The b a b e grew to a child, and „„„d ier covered with clouds ; a meadow enam friend came and kissed it. Ilex name was I ,'' . elletLwit'A beauteous dowers : forests Im:t -oter., rreilt snow and fields gilded ‘vith the Memory. She said ' , look behind and tell me what Cunt seest." The child tints of autumn—then ;antic You will have answered, "1 see a little hook." A „d a just conception of the Universe. While Memory sa id , „1 theehow to you are gazing titthe sun which is plung get honey from the book t h at ,vab, sweet ing under the vaults of thi; West, another to thee when thou art old." observer adniires him emerging• from the The child b came a youth. Once w .);;l' l ) : . g.ilded gates of the East. 13v what incon e he went to his bed, ;lope and Areinory eitlivitbde magic does that aged star, which stood by the pillow. Ikr sung a ineb;-' is sinking, fatigued and burning under the dints song, and said, "Follow me, and e y_ t shades of the evening, re-appear at the same instant, fresh and humid with the ro cry morning thou shalt wake with a smile, as sweet as the pretty lay saw,. th ee ." sy dew of.the morning At every instant oldie day the glorious orb is at once rising llut Memory said.. 6 '"l lope, is there any I need that we sliould con t en d ? H i , —resplendent at noonday, and setting in he mine as wel l as thine. Amid we shall the West ; or rather our sense.deeeives be to him as sisters all his life long." and there is, properlc speaking, no East or So he kissed 1 lope and -Memory, a s l i e i West to the. World. :Every thing . reduces was beloved of them both. Wink b e s l ept i.i t .s,ell to one single point, from whence the peacefully they t silently by his side, )kffig of D.y sends forth at once a triple weaving vainia „ into dreams. _ light, one single substance. When he woke, they came with the lark, to bid him good morning, and he gave a ,Bond to each. 11e la , catike a man. Every day ifope guided him to his labor. and every night he supped with Memory at the table of Knowledge. But, at leitgthA!re found him and turn ed his temples gray. 'l'o his eve the world seemed altered. .Nletnory sat by his el how chair, like an old and tried friend.— le looked a t her seriously, and said, [last thou not lost something that I entrusted to thee f" And she answered, "I fear so : for the lock of mr casket is worn. Sometimes I ant weary and sleepy, and Time pur loins' my key. But the gents thou didst give me when life Nvas new—l can account for all—see how bright they arr." While thus sadly eonversed, qpe put forth a wing that she hail not worn, folded under her garment, and tried its strength in a heavenly blight. The old watt laid down 'to die, and when his soul went forth front th e h ot ly, t h e gels tool: it. And 11einory walked with it through the open gale of heaven. But I lope lay down at its threshhold and irent lv .expired, as a rose giveth out its last odorg 11("i : p:111111 4 ,4" 51 , 411 NV:IS like the music of a seraph's harp. She hreutlietl it into a glorious fornt and Baia. "Immortal happi ness ! I hring then a soul that I have led through the world. it is 110 W Witte. .le ,lts rutletined .:• :. 11111 ;Is g . r.1 . f . :11: 1, azt• xvirr. 'I :!atitleter. a ~ . . .. ..... • . <43 . ; , . . .•/ . , • 5.,.. . . ..., -'• :, . - . . •• • . . . ' • ''... ' • . . 4 ~_ - . 4 1 . .. r. . '• .•••,- t . i. an:ll,yr • I*, ' ...it( 1 . , ~. it. • :sr 'Of. •