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THE QUEEN OF MAY.

Young Queen of May! robed in the radiant light
Of beauty's sheen, and holiest innocence;
Meetly the laughing loves of eyes so bright,
The homage of the votive crowd, excite,

And waken heart-devotion, pure-intense !
Upon thy blue-vein'd brow, the trace of thought
Gentle and sweet, sits throned in loveliness;
While woman's softness, blent with smiles and wrought
With hues of promise from youth's rainbow caught,
Beams forth the light of hope and happiness.
There are no passions in thy guileless breast
To mar its peace, and breathe of worldly care;
But all is tranquil as an infant's rest,
And in thy heart's sweet sunshine richly blest,
Thou deem'st not it may e'er be thine to share,
The withering blights of life—and yet the glow

Of earthly love, steals o'er thy cheek of rose;
Its blushes mantle to thy brow of snow,
But gentle maiden, little dost thou know

How oft its spell destroys the mind's repose.
Oh! 'tis too like those flowers which strew thy way,
(Gems from the coronal of gorgeous spring)
As fair yet fading, and although the play
Of its young morning smile is blandly gay,

A thorn is lurking 'neath its radiant wing.
But oh! 'twere sad to cast a thought of gloom,
Sweet girl! upon that spirit-dream of thine;
Or throw around thy hopes a visioned tomb,
Rather smile on amid their placid bloom,

And future years, perchance, for thee, may twine. Full many a wreath to consecrate the day,

Whose beauteous dawning hailed thee "Queen of May."

MARIE

MY SISTER.

"When musing on companions gone
We doubly feel ourselves alone."

I was educated at one of our principal Universities and while there contracted an intimacy with Lord Maningham. He was a few years my senior and, at the time of my entrance, had alienated from him by the violence and unsociableness of his temper, all his fellow students. Somehow, from being myself fond of solitude, I often shared his lonely hours, in preference to mingling in the parties and merriment of the other students. We were soon something more than friends; he poured out his whole soul to me, and received my confidence in return. I admired him for his candour, pitied him for his faults, and loved him because there was a void in my own heart, and I could not exist without something to take an interest in. Walter Maningham was a model of manly beauty-tall, almost to an excess, with a high intellectual brow, and eyes whose expression varied from tenderness to fire. He would often lament to me, almost with tears, that his passions were so ungovernable, but he made no vigorous effort to subdue them, nor prayed to heaven for strength; consequently they became even more violent. All rejoiced when he quitted the University, even the very governors, all but me, and I was inconsolable. He promised to write often, and on his return, for he was going on the continent, to stay some weeks with me at my father's house. We parted with regret, and I shortly afterwards returned home. Even the short time I had been absent had wrought a change; my mother's raven hair was tinged with grey, and my father looked older and thinner. Isabel, my only and beloved sister too, was altered; she had become more beautiful, more enchanting, and as she threw herself into my arms, and welcomed me with passionate kindness, I thought I had never seen any one so lovely. She had a thousand things to tell me I but one to relate-my friendship for Maningham. I dwelt on his perfections with blind enthusiam, and glossed over his faults until the heart of my gentle auditor was moved, and she longed to see her brother's friend; thus by my thoughtlessness did I sow the first seeds of that fatal passion which destroyed her.

I will pass over the period which elapsed before Lord Maningham made his promised visit. He came at last; my parents

received him with delight, as my friend, perhaps, my future patron, Isabel with timid joy. It is strange how a being so meek and child-like as my sister Isabel could have charms for such a man as Walter Maningham, and yet I am convinced that he loved her with all the deep feeling of his enthusiastic soul, and Isabel returned that affection with confiding tenderness. My parents consented to their union-I hesitated when mine was asked; I looked upon the fairy form of my idolized sister, as she sat encircled by the arms of her lover, her meek young face, buried in his shoulder, her hands extended in supplication to me.

"Do you fear to trust me with your sister?" said Maningham, half reproachfully, "I confess that I am unworthy of such a boon, and yet my friend, judge me not by what I have been, forget the past and in future I will be all you could wish me to be."

"Hold!" said I, "ere you promise, and remember, my Lord, how often you have made such resolves and broken them. For my sister's sake Walter, for your own, I dare not consentleave us but for a short time, but for one year, and if at the expiration of that period you return an altered and a better man, the hand of my Isabel shall be your reward."

"Bella, love!" said Maningham, turning fiercely from me and falling at her feet, " you will not surely consent to this cruel separation? Speak my beloved? Say it shall not be so!"

She glanced beseechingly at me, and for the first time I looked sternly on her; she started up and flinging herself into my arms exclaimed, " Walter, leave me-forgive me-pity me! I cannot disobey my brother!"

Lord Maningham paced the floor with rapid strides; his countenance grew dark and fearful. My sister shuddered at its expression and clung closer to me; at length he paused and snatching her hand kissed it passionately, murmured an inaudible farewell, and rushed from the room. My sister looked sadly after him, and then turned her tearful eyes on me. I tried to sooth her, and spoke of future happiness, when he should return worthy of her love. It seemed to cheer her, although myself I had no hopes of any change in him, but only looked forward to the effect of time to cure this ill-fated attachment. When I met my sister in the evening every trace of her recent agitation had disappeared, but she looked confused whenever I addressed her and coloured violently if my eyes rested for a moment on her downcast features, she

wept when she bade us good-night, and lingered again and again to receive her parents blessing and my kiss. The next morning she was missing. The sophistry of her lover had triumphed over every sense of duty. For my sister's honour I had no fear, it was her happiness I trembled for.

It was in vain we sought some trace of the fugitives, we found none; and it was about a twelvemonth after my sister's departure that I received a short sarcastic note from Lord Maningham, informing me, that the year of probation being expired, I was at liberty to visit Lady Maningham, whenever it was most convenient to myself.

But for my sister's sake I had not noticed this cold invitation-but I was eager to see her-to assure her of my forgiveness-to watch over her happiness as in other, earlier times. It was late when I arrived at a princely mansion, in a romantic part of Wales. I sent in my name, and was shown into a spacious, gloomy looking apartment. Lord Maningham entered almost directly; he offered his hand which I involuntarily grasped, and my first words were an enquiry for my sister.

"She knows not of your coming-I intended it as a surprise for her."

He rang the bell, and ordered the servant to summon Lady Maningham. How my heart beat as her light footstep ap. proached the door opened and uttering a scream of joy she fainted away in my arms. Her husband looked displeased, and flung open the window, and I laid her on an ottoman. She soon revived and greeted me with affectionate warmth, looking her thanks to Lord Maningham. When we were more composed, I beheld with alarm the alteration which had taken place in my sister. She was pale and languid, and seemed to move, nay even to speak with difficulty. I noticed too, that if she caught the eye of her husband fixed on her while she spoke, she paused suddenly, and remained silent for a while. I told Lord Maningham that I feared she was ill, very ill, and requested that she might have advice.

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"Put no whims into her head," he replied impatiently, you are well enough, are you not Bella?"

She bowed her head, but a tear fell on the hand I held. He looked keenly at her, and then offering to ring for her attendant supported her to the door. A kind good-night in his own peculiarly sweet voice and the accents of a kiss reached my ear as they stood a few moments together; my inconsistent friend soon returned to me, and after a few moments silence,

"Tell me De Lisle, I conjure you by our former friendship, do you sincerely think that your sister is in danger. I have at times fancied she was ill, but she never complains, and I drive away the idea as maddening—still it will intrude when I gaze on the pale cheek, and wasting form, of her I so idolize."

I spoke soothingly to him, and said I hoped there was no immediate danger, but that I certainly thought Isabel, very ill, or very unhappy"- -as I pronounced the last word he started and turning deadly pale, remained silent for a few moments ; at length he said—

:

"You know that from my infancy my unbounded passions, my insanity! in mercy call it no worse name-has alienated from me every friend, broken every tie, and left me almost an isolated being surely the scarcity of objects to love, makes us cling with greater tenacity to those which remain. As a flower in the wilderness--a moon upon a black waste of waterssuch is my pure, beautiful Isabel to me. The best, the sweetest, and the last! That which has estranged all other hearts, has but bound her's the closer. She has soothed my impetuosity and in my wildest moments her words have fallen like gentlydropping waters, and cooled the fire of my soul! When I was harsh-when I wounded her meek spirit, she answered only with her tears-when others became the objects of my fury, she stepped like a ministring angel between me and the objects of my wrath, and saved them." "De Lisle," he continued, with increasing vehemence, "Is it possible that one so fair, so good, should die?"

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Every thing is possible with God!" I began, but he impatiently interrupted me.

"You must preach, I suppose, because it is your vocation! but I am in no mood to listen to you."

He arose hastily, shewed me to my apartment, and, having paced the gallery until past midnight, retired himself.

The following morning the change in my beloved sister, was even more perceptible. She did not appear surprised when the servant told her that his master had been out ever since dawn.

We enjoyed our tête-à-tête breakfast, talking over past times and old friends, she did not seem once to regret the step she had taken, only as the cause of our long separation. She spoke of her husband as her "Dear Maningham," her "kind Walter." No mention of those sufferings which had destroyed her health escaped her lips-you would have thought her, from her words, a loved and happy wife, had not the fading cheek, the shade

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