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LITTELL'S LIVING AGE-No. 538.-9 SEPT., 1854.

FRIBURG CATHEDRAL.

FROM THE AMERICAN IN EUROPE.

FRIBURG possesses a magnificent cathedral, prayer, hearing the sound of horses' feet, looked the carving and ornaments of which are by some below, and beheld her father's troopers climbing supposed to surpass those even of Strasburg, the zig-zag path. She hastily rose to her feet, which at least speaks very highly in their favor. but, naked, tender, and bleeding, they refused to Certainly, if not so stately, it is extremely beau- bear her onward, and she fell exhausted to the tiful. From the terrace of a hermitage without ground. the town, a certainly splendid view is commanded, while the river which runs beneath, (and over the valley of which, elegant suspension bridges are thrown here and there,) give an air of picturesque lightness to the whole, heightened by the sight of cattle grazing in the meadows, and peasant maidens chatting together in the open air.

The following tradition is told of the Grotto of St. Odille, which is in the immediate neighborhood of Friburg

In her agony and alarm, horrified at the possibility that she, who had intended to become the bride of heaven, should be compelled to accept the hand of an earthly lover, she prayed fervently for deliverance. The rock opened, and when again it closed, she had disappeared. Presently she heard her father's voice, in his bereavement, calling upon her.

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'My child! my child!" he cried, "where art thou gone to?"

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My father," her voice replied, while he tremOdille, daughter of the Duke of Alsace, hav-bled at hearing these familiar tones coming ing been brought up in a convent to the habits of from the mysterious shelter she had found a religious life, resolved to devote herself to hea- -"My father, you persecute him who loves ven by taking the veil, and one day departed me." from her father's court for this purpose, leaving all the noble young knights, her suitors, in the greatest grief.

Among the number was a German prince, on whom her father, Duke Attich, had looked with favor, but to avoid whose suit she had set forth habited as a beggar, and thus passed the Rhine in a small boat. The Duke discovering this, in his anger and disappointment set out in pursuit; and, from the boatman's description, had no doubt but that he was on her track, and continued to follow with fresh energy.

Odille, climbing one of the forest mountains, had sat down to rest, and, while engaged in

Recognizing in all this the will and influence of a superior power, Duke Attich swore to respect his daughter's vow, and promised to build for her a convent. The rock opened, and, arrayed in garments of a heavenly brightness, Odille came forth, and fell upon his bosom.

From that day the rock remained open, a spring bubbled forth, a medicinal brunnen (profitable spec.) was established, and (English) pilgrims went to visit it, and to play cards there. If there is a moral in this good old story, let the reader discover it; for my part I didn't try.

MINE!

FOR A GERMAN AIR.

O How my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,

And I drink up joy like wine;

O how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,

For the lovely girl is mine!

She's rich, she's fair, beyond compare

Of noble mind, serene and kind;

| She owns no lands, has no white hands-
Her lot is poor, her life obscure;

Yet how my heart is beating as her name I keep
repeating,

For the dearest girl is mine!

Chambers's Journal.

TO MARY RUSSELL MITFORD.

The hay is carried; and the Hours
Snatch, as they pass, the linden-flow'rs;

O how my heart is beating as her name I keep And children leap to pluck a spray

repeating,

For the lovely girl is mine!

Bent earthward, and then run away.
Park-keeper! catch me those grave thieves
About whose frocks the fragrant leaves,

O how my heart is beating as her name I keep Sticking and fluttering here and there, repeating,

In a music soft and fine;

No false nor faltering witness bear.
I never view such scenes as these,

O how my heart is beating as her name I keep In grassy meadow girt with trees,

repeating,

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But comes a thought of her who now
Sits with serenely patient brow

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