Gazed on that glorious shadow of her youth!
And youth had perish'd from her—but there stay'd
With it a changeless bloom that could not fade;
The winters had not breath'd upon its prime-
For life's first roses hung around it now,
Unblanch'd by all the waves and storms of time
That swept such beauty from the living brow-
And withering age, and deeply-cankering care,
Had left no traces of their footsteps there.
The loved one and the lover both were changed,
Far changed in fortune, and perchance in soul;
And they whose footsteps fate so far estranged,
At length were guided to the same bright goal
Of early hopes: but, oh, to be once more
As they had been in that sweet vale of yore!
They cast upon each other one long look;
And hers was sad-it might be with regret
For all the true love lost; but his partook
Of woe, whose worldless depth was darker yet,
For life had lost its beacon, and that brow
Could be no more his star of promise now.

And once again the artist silently

Pass'd from her presence. But, from that sad hour,
As though he feared its fading heart and eye,
Forsook all mortal beauty for the power

Of deathless art. By far and fabled streams

He sought the sculptured forms of classic dreams,
And pictured glories of Italian lore,

But looked on living beauty never more.

"Miss Brown," says the learned Dr. Kitt, "user shade and shadow as synonymous. Of shade she could have an idea, from having herself, when under a tree, realized the consciousness of being screened from the warmth of the sun; but of shadow, as distinct from shade, she does not appear to have had a idea, for whenever she does use it, shade is meant. ́ ́

One of the present writers, who has been blind fron birth, adds, "I have always had a notion of some difference between shade and shadow. Shade appears to me much darker, and more confused than shadow. Shade has no particular form, while shadow takes the shape of the object by which it is cast." We see no reason why Miss Brown should nave had a less distinct idea of the difference between shade and shadow than of the difference in the two primary colors, yellow and orange. We are not willing to believe that she was totally ignorant of the import of the words shade and shadow. We give, however, a brief extract from her "Lessons of the Louvre,' and leav the reader to judge for himself:

"So spake the sun of Gallic fame,
When, on his conquering noon,

No dimly distant shadow came

Of clouds to burst too soon-
But o'er the crown'd and laurel'd brow
There passed a shade the while,
That dimm'd the dark eye's haughty glow.
And quench'd the scornful smile."

THE LAND OF LIBERTY

Where may that glorious land be found
Which countless bards have sung-

The chosen of the nations, crown'

With fame, forever young

C Earth hath many a region bright, And Ocean many an isle—

But where on mortals shines the light Of Freedom's cloudless smile!

The search is vain! From human skies

The angel early fled

Our only land of freedom is

The country of the dead i

MISS FRANCES JANE CROSBY,

AN AMERICAN AUTHORESS.

"Tis bright where'er the heart is;
Nor chain nor dungeon dim,

May check the mind's aspirings,

The spirit's pealing hymn.

The heart gives life its beauty

Its glory and its power,—

'Tis sunlight to its rippling stream,

And soft dew to its flower."

THE poems of this blind lady have been so much and so justly admired by all who have read them, and have so frequently drawn from the pen of reviewers acknowledgments of their superior excellence, almost amounting to adulation, that a few glimpses of her early history will be received no doubt by our readers with interest. To her assiduous efforts as a teacher, the Institution for the Blind at New York, with which she has long been connected, owes much of its present prosperity; and to her aid in many other respects it is, no doubt, indebted for its worldwide reputation.

No one can read her poems and not be struck with the simple beauty and elegance of her style, the correctness of her imagery, and her giddy flights of