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Where the giants of yore from their mansions come | Weep, Freedom! in all thy last citadels, weep, down,

O'er the ocean-wide floor play the game of renown.

Hark! hark! how the earth 'neath their armament

In the hurricane charge-in the thunder of wheels;
How the hearts of the forests rebound as they pass,
In their mantles of smoke, through the quaking mo-

In the tent of Dembinski the taper is dim,

But no need for the dusk light of tapers for him;
In the mind of the chief-in his intellect's ray-
All the war stands revealed with the splendor of

God! the battle is joined! Lord of Battles, rejoice!
Freedom thunders her hymn in the battery's voice-
In the soaring hurrah-in the half-stifled moan-
Sends the voice of her praise to the foot of thy throne.
Oh hear, God of Freedom, thy people's appeal ;
Let the edges of slaughter be sharp on their steel,
And the weight of destruction and swiftness of fear
Speed death to his mark in their bullets' career!
Holy Nature, arise! from thy bosom in wrath
Shake the pestilence forth on the enemy's path,
That the tyrant invaders may march by the road
Of Sennacherib invading the city of God!

As the stars in their courses 'gainst Sisera strove,
Fight, mists of the fens, in the sick air above!
As Scamander his carcasses flung on the foe,
Fight, floods of the Theiss, in your torrents below!
As the snail of the Psalmist consuming away,
Let the moon-melted masses in silence decay;
Till the track of corruption alone in the air
Shall tell sickened Europe the Russ has been there!

Stay! stay!-in thy fervor of sympathy pause,
Nor become inhumane in humanity's cause;
If the poor Russian slave have to wrong been

Are the ties of Christ's brotherhood all to be

The mothers of Moscow, who offer the breast
To their orphans, have hearts, as the mothers of

Nor are love's aspirations more tenderly drawn
From the bosoms of youth by the Theiss than the

God of Russian and Magyar, who ne'er hast de-

Save one shedding of blood for the sins of man-

No demon of battle and bloodshed art thou,
To the war-wearied nations be pitiful now!

Turn the hearts of the kings-let the Magyar again
Reap the harvests of peace on his bountiful plain;
And if not with renown, with affections and lives,
Send the poor Russians home to their children and


But you fill all my bosom with tumult once more-
What! Görgey surrendered! What! Bem's bat-
tles o'er!

What! the horrible Haynau victorious!-Oh God,
Give us patience to bow to thy terrible rod !

From the Adrian mole to the Adrian deep;
And England, seducer, deserter! prepare
On the heights of the Koosh for the hug of the
Dublin U. Mag.

Dublin, August 22d, 1849.

From the Banner of the Cross.

Then we which are alive, and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; and so shall we ever be with the Lord.-1 Thess. iv. 17.

FOREVER with the Lord! O, can it be,
That this bright promise is for child of earth?
That for the sons of frail mortality,
Is given this heritage of priceless worth?
Forever with the Lord! Then to thy heart,
And guide thy steps, when e'er in life thy part
Believer, take this star of hope to cheer
Is dark with woes, and all around is drear.
Forever with the Lord! Let this sure word
Be a glad note, to quicken into life
Those dead in sin, whose spirits have not heard
Their Saviour's call to join the Christian strife.
Forever with the Lord! Soon shall the light
Of the eternal day in splendor dawn;
Then let us cast away the works of night,
And take God's armor ere that night be gone.
Forever with the Lord! Then, at the last,
We which remain shall meet him in the air;
The care, the grief, the joy of earth all past-
With his redeemed the bliss of heav'n to share.
Forever with the Lord! Ages shall roll
Onward in ceaseless flow, yet still with Him
We shall abide blest portion of the soul!
Equal to that of brightest seraphim!
Sept. 6th, 1849.


C. L.

I AM weary of straying-oh fain would I rest
In that far distant land of the pure and the blest,
Where sin can no longer her blandishments spread,
And tears and temptations forever are fled.

I am weary of hoping-where hope is untrue,
As fair, but as fleeting as morning's bright dew;
I long for that land whose blest promise alone
Is changeless and sure as eternity's throne

I am weary of sighing o'er sorrows of earth,
O'er joy's glowing visions, that fade at their birth;
O'er the pangs of the loved, which we cannot as-

O'er the blightings of youth, and the weakness of

I am weary of loving what passes away-
The sweetest, the dearest, alas! may not stay;
I long for that land where those partings are o'er;
And death and the tomb can divide hearts no more.

I am weary, my Saviour! of grieving thy love;
Oh! when shall I rest in thy presence above?
I am weary-but oh! let me never repine,
While thy word, and thy love, and thy promise are
Episcopal Recorder.



“LEON, you shall stay in this room because I bid you," said a tall, soldierly-looking man, imperatively, to a handsome, well-grown boy-ten years old, or thereabouts-who stood, with frowning brow and flushed cheek, in the middle of the apartment. "Do you hear, sir?"

The only effect of this command was the protrusion of a ripe under lip, and a flashing of the dark, lustrous eyes, from beneath long, black lashes of remarkable beauty; and as the father gazed on a form which already betrayed a promise of future strength and grace, and on features not strictly regular, indeed, but striking, and announcing in their general expression an unusual degree of firmness and daring, the symptoms of anger faded from his countenance, and the pride of a fond parent beamed from his eyes-in which he in vain tried to throw severe and reproving glances.

The boy stood his ground in stubborn silence; not daring to advance towards the door, but ready for a spring the moment the opportunity offered.

as to the French tutors we get hereabouts, they are so detestable, that withal he gets a pretty education a little music, a little drawing, a good Ideal of dancing and French reading, swimming and rowing ad libitum.”

"And shooting, papa; I can fire a gun, and the forester says I take a good aim," put in Leon.

"And fire a gun!' I beg pardon for not having enumerated this last fine accomplishment. But regular habits of mind are wanting, and their deficiency will be felt through life."

"Then why not send him to Lemberg?" said the mother, hesitatingly.

"To Lemberg! Are you in earnest, Vanda? Would you that my boy, my only son, my heir, were Austrianized, Teutonized, schooled into tame submission to the oppressor from his earliest years, when, God helping, I trust to make him one day fit to throw off the foreign yoke?”

The general, in great excitement, strode up and down the apartment, and the countess' pale cheek flushed with the glow of responsive sentiments. "Ah!" she murmured, "we should have Polish schools."

"Ay-native schools-native schools-that were our right—those the only places where our children can be properly educated. For, first and last, a home education is unfit for young men-it prepares them neither for the world nor for lifemakes neither scholars nor soldiers of them."

"Leon, will you not stay a little while with your poor, sick mamma?" said a low, soft voice, rendered still weaker by distance, for the speaker lay at full length on a couch at the extremity of the room; one of unusual dimensions, when compared with those of other countries, though common enough to houses of any pretension in Galicia. The feeble accents no sooner reached the child's ear than he flew to the sofa, knelt beside it, and "Well, that may be-nay," said the count, buried his face in the robe of the lady there ex-"I will candidly admit that it is so; but still our tended. Her snowy fingers played languidly with youths are obliged to put up, for the most part, his coal-black locks as she said, with a frivolous, incomplete education, unworthy

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No, mamma, no!" said Leon, large tears hanging like dew-drops on his dark lashes" not for all the beavers in the lake."

"Oh! Ladislas-all Poles are born soldiersthey need no teaching," warmly exclaimed the countess.

"There I knew you were a good boy, and their station, or to mingle with the oppressors. would not pain me." If driven to the latter alternative, then let it be as late as possible, that's all. So we now await our new French tutor; and, in the interim, between his arrival and the departure of the late one, I suppose I must not quarrel with your wildness, Monsieur Leon-eh ?”

"What have the beavers to do with it, Leon?" "Why, you see, mamma, the forester had promised to take me to the pond where they build so prettily, and I wanted to go with him-that's what made me so restless."

The child, with instinctive tact, saw that the wind was blowing in his favor, and flew into his father's arms, who brushed back the clustering

"But where are you come from so flushed and hair from his brow, and gazed his fill on the young heated "" face he loved so well.

"I have been riding my pony about the grounds." "But before that?"

"My boy," he said, patting the curly head, "it is of no use trying to deceive you; we are "Before that, mamma—why, before that I was fond of, and foolish with you, because you are our rowing down the river."

"Wild scapegrace!" exclaimed the father, "when you ought to be at your desk, doing something better."

"Sometimes he will pore over books whole days together," said the lady.

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"Oh, ay," replied her husband, shrugging his shoulders, over French novels, which you or his French tutor have the folly to leave in his way. My duties do not allow me to watch over him as I should; your state of health, my poor Vanda, precludes your being efficient in that respect; and

only child; but let your own reason, as you grow, guard you against the weakness of our love. Not another being in the wide world will feel for you as do the two beings under whose fostering care you are growing up-not one, Leon, be sure of that. And now I must away, Vanda, and look after my farming and bailiffs; for my young heir will have broad lands, but they must be worth the inheriting. Now, Leon, be good, and stay with mamma till I return-will you?" The promise was readily given.

"You see," murmured the countess, as the

The lady spoke these words in a tone of

general stooped to kiss her wan cheek, and press | sals." her feverish hand, "You see how gentle Leon is displeasure so unlike her usual languid meekness, when you treat him gently."

"Ay, but that won't do," said the count, shaking his head, with a smile. "The world is apt to rough it with us. Besides, Leon must one day be a soldier, like me; we poor Poles have no other chance or opening. Napoleon used to say he knew no prince in the army. I shall echo the sentiment, and say heirs and only sons are unknown in the army. But, my poor Vanda, how hot your hand is! I think I had better again have the physician from Lemberg. You seem very weak, my dearest." The tone of command natural to the general always gave way, when he addressed his wife, to accents of almost feminine solicitude.

Wasted as she was by the insidious disease that was hurrying her to the grave, the countess still bore in her elegant form and interesting countenance traces of great personal charms, and her whole air and manner had that aristocratic grace peculiar to the women of her nation; but more winning than the stamps of birth and the lingering evidences of beauty, was the soul that breathed from her dark eyes, and played in her mournful smile.

that even the boy was startled, and his attention,
already half roused by Seraphinka's remarks,
became completely withdrawn from his book.
Two crimson spots stained the cheeks of his
mother, and her look had fallen to the ground.
After a slight pause, which the maid did not ven-
ture to break, the countess said: "Tell the woman
to call again, in a week or so. I do not feel well
to-day, and can see no one. Mind, Seraphinka,"
she added with some severity,
say just what I
say, and no more; add nothing of your own, I
beg." Seraphinka withdrew in silence, and the
countess, sinking back on her couch, bade Leon
continue his reading; but the boy's mind ran on
the maid's errand.


"What a nasty, idle, filthy old witch is that Jakubska! I wonder, mamma, you do not get her whipped for coming up so often to the chateau."

The countess rose to a sitting posture, and fixed upon her son a long, melancholy gaze. At last her eyes filled with tears, and her voice trembled with emotion, as, taking his hand, she said, with an earnestness most rare with her :

"My poor Leon, do not speak thus you know not what you say; but it is very, very wicked. I am not well enough to make you feel how wrong it is, and what pain you give me." She laid her hand on her heart to stop, as it were, its throbbing.

"And why is what I say so very wrong?" demanded the boy; "my cousin Joseph speaks such things, and is never reproved for them."

When the general had left the room, the lady desired her son to bring the History of Poland from her own bookcase; but somehow he missed the volume, and brought one of the Arabian Nights instead. His mother smiled at the mistake, but made no comment. Gazing steadily at the youthful reader with eyes whose melancholy deepened as his countenance became irradiated with the growing interest of the tale, she seemed The countess, after a moment's pause, resumed. absorbed in some meditation apart from the occu- "How can you ask, Leon? Does not your pation of the moment. The languor of her frame, own heart tell you it is not the poor woman's however, could not resist the soothing effect of fault that she is destitute, any more than it is the reading; and the long lids drooped over the through any merit of your own that you are ricn thoughtful orbs so lately filled with intense, and happy? Your being so happy, and she so though, to the child, incomprehensible meaning. wretched, should induce you to pity her all the Carried away by his childish eagerness, the boy more. How can you hate the unfortunate, Leon? did not lower his voice, and the monotonous mur- You know not how unfortunate you may yourself mur kept his mother's senses lulled. Half an be one day, for sorrow is as much at home in the hour or more thus passed away, when a side-door halls of the great as in the huts of the poor. I was gently opened, and a female stole softly in. | hope, Leon, you have not a bad heart," she added, Leon, wholly engrossed with the fairy existence musingly. his soul was drinking in, did not become aware of the presence of this new-comer until her step, light as it was, roused the countess.

"I beg pardon, my lady," the maid began, "but the woman you pension is again here."

"The third time this month!" said the countess, querulously ; "she cannot possibly want anything this is really tiresome."

"After all the gracious countess has done for her, too!" exclaimed the Abigail, with upraised hands and eyes; 66 one must be an angel like you, my lady, to put up with it; other ladies would, long since, have cast her off, for she is the most impudent beggar—"

"Hush! Seraphinka, you know I do not

"Oh! mamma, I could like any one else; but Jakubska I can't help hating!-she is so very frightful;" and the boy, with the repulsion of childhood from personal disgrace, covered his face with his hands.

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approve your speaking thus of the count's vas-brow, rose hastily, and, folding an India shawl

closely round her emaciated, lofty form, leaning | mansion, and of trees, except those of his garon her maid's arm, slowly crossed the room. Her den, that rose immediately behind it. The garden silent acquiescence in what both the young heir was large, and well shaded; and as the countess and Seraphinka considered an impertinence that had not, for some years past, been able to extend deserved chastisement, caused an expressive glance her walks beyond its limits, it had been kept in to pass between them. Before opening the door better style than was to be expected from the disleading to her own apartment, the countess turned, orderly look of the house and the rest of its beand said: "Leon, now you may go and play longings. It had an aviary, a fine hothouse, about the grounds; I don't wish you to read any plenty of fragrant shrubs and flowers, some statues, longer, and you need not look for my return, for I and many a neat bower, which the poor lady called am going to lie down and sleep." her stages, for each seat marked the place where rest became necessary to her. Here Leon spent most of the time he devoted to his mother; though he hated its trimness, and was ever anxious to escape to the large pond, some distance off, over whose wide expanse he could manage a boat, unassisted by any one.

As the door closed on his mother, Leon darted through the opposite one, and in a minute had cleared the straggling corridors and stairs that separated him from the so-called pleasure-grounds. The Castle of Stanoiki-for the house bore this sounding appellation-like most of the mansions belonging to the nobility of that neighborhood, But, notwithstanding the neglected look of all was a long, low, irregular edifice, with so few around, the count was immensely rich. His pretensions to style, either architectural or decora-wealth, however, like that of most landed propritive, that it might have been mistaken for a farm etors towards the south of Galicia, chiefly conor manufactory; and, though by no means of a sisted in metal and salt mines, so abundant in remote date, it already bore an air of dilapida- these parts. This may excuse his having betion, owing to the want of timely repair. Where stowed so little attention on the improvement or a tile fell, there it remained, the servants being cultivation of land, which would have absorbed too idle to remove it, and the noble possessors deeming such trifles altogether beneath their notice. A huge hole in the roof allowed the rain to enter the upper chambers, which, however, being the apartment allotted to guests, in nowise incommoded the family. A visitor, on one occasion, being obliged to adjust a large umbrella over his bed, and to sleep beneath its protection throughout the night, informed his hosts in the morning of the circumstance, and his expedient. It was Besides the last-named all-engrossing object of laughed at as a good joke, but, with habitual care-tenderness, the general had never known but two lessness in such matters, was forgotten the next affections-the Emperor Napoleon, under whom instant. Large patches of plaster had fallen here and there from the walls, and revealed the red brick beneath, which greatly disfigured the general appearance of the building. The count once remarked that the house was getting sadly out of repair, and that a new one was becoming necessary; but the simple plan of fresh plastering and painting the old one never suggested itself to his mind, nor, indeed, to that of any one about him.

more time and money than its returns would have justified. His mines, and the intricate nature of the accounts connected with them, wholly engaged his attention when not visiting his friends and connexions whose intimacy he wished to keep up for Leon's sake; for the general, a good man in the main, but whose education had been most superficial, had no interest in life beyond his estate and his heir.

he had served, and Vanda, his first and only love. His existence had been under a spell. Whatever he most desired he obtained, indeed, but only after years of hope deferred, which proverbially maketh the heart sick; it produced on him, however, the contrary effect of strengthening, perhaps it might be said, of hardening, his character. Stanoiki being the younger son of a younger son, his cousin Vanda had been destined to another; and, landless, hopeIn front of the castle, a large waste of scanty, less, he had followed the banners of Napoleon at discolored grass extended in wearisome uniform-an age when most men are intent on their studies. ity-a type of the surrounding landscape-until, Thus he became the pupil of the drum, as he himby a rather abrupt descent, it sloped into a swamp, self termed it, and ripened to the din of arms; where the grass grew rank, and harbored under the real element of the Pole, the only one in its tall blades hosts of toads and water-snakes-which he can live content-never being at peace vermin and reptiles of all kinds and varieties. with himself except when he is at war with Beyond this swept a river; shallow or nearly dry others. in summer, a rapid torrent in autumn, hard frozen in winter, regularly overflowing each spring, and as regularly carrying away the many fragile bridges that intersected it and united that part of the count's domains with his lands lying on the other side the stream. The flats-sand-pits and bogs alternating-extended as far as the eye could reach, and gave the country a desolate, monotonous aspect, which was increased by the total absence of human habitation, except the count's

Vanda and he patiently waited years for the attainment of their most ardent wish their union. At his return from Moscow, death having thinned the ranks of his family with inconceivable rapidity, he became heir to the property which he now enjoyed.

Shortly after, he had the satisfaction to introduce Vanda as mistress of it. He might now have been truly happy, in spite of the sighs he gave to the fate of his country and his hero-Poland and Napoleon-had not destiny again baulked

her features, originally fine-for she had a touch of Armenian blood in her veins—but distorted by age, the indulgence of low habits, and the hardships of a rough life, became softened from their usually lowering expression as she said, with whining familiarity,

"Surely-surely-you'll let me kiss your robe; you'll not be prouder than the countess herself. Now do, my little lord, and such a handsome lord, too, as you are-it's a prince you ought to be, not a count, with that face and that air-do, now, let me but just feel that soft velvet!"

Leon drew himself up with all his father's severity. "Leave me!" he said; "begone, beggar! You get alms enough from the chateau, what more would you have?" "When you are

his legitimate desires. All he demanded was an heir to the family honors about to be extinct in his own person, and that heir Heaven had denied. In vain the countess spent hours kneeling on the cold pavement of her chapel-in vain did she open a bountiful hand to the poor, in order to call down the blessed boon from Heaven-it was still denied. In vain did the count resort to less spiritual means, dragging his wife to all the spas of Germany in succession, and tormenting her with a continual change of habit and regimen; his wishes were frustrated, and the countess, always delicate, grew weaker and sadder with every new voyage. At last, when the hope of both had well nigh given way to despair, and their domestic felicity was beginning to cloud over, the countess became a mother, and, oh joy! the mother of a son! The count was wild with delight; and not even in the days of early love had he so surrounded his wife with attention and tenderness as he did now. The countess, too, bloomed afresh under the tardy but welcome emotion; and though the child seemed to participate in her delicacy of constitution, the fond parents anchored their every hope on this solitary treasure-for solitary it proved. Towards the close of the first year the child grew hearty and robust, but the countess began to droop, and gradually sank into decline, towards whose last stage she was now rapidly progressing. She bore her sufferings with a resigned, if not a strong "Do not do not!" exclaimed the boy, hastily. heart, and was gentle and patient as ever; but," There," he added, drawing from his shirt front never buoyant, even in her best days, she gave way in time to a despondency from which nothing but her husband's presence could rouse her. Such Leon's birth and parentage, which may account for the lax education under which the weeds of his young mind were growing apace.

"Ay, alms," she muttered. master, I wonder if you 'll give me any." "I!" said he, impetuously-"I shall have yon taught with the lash to forget the road to the chateau."

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"Holy Virgin !" exclaimed the woman, young, and already so hard-hearted ! Do you know," she added, grasping with her long, bony fingers the stick that supported her, and fixing her wild black eyes intently upon those of the child, "do you know that I could find it in my heart to curse you?"

the small gold buttons which fastened it, "these
are valuable-take them, and do not cast an evil
eye upon me, for I see it—you have an evil eye;
or, if they do not satisfy you, take my watch"-
it was one belonging to his mother, which she
had given him but a few days previously-" take
this-take everything I have, but do not touch
me-do not look at me—and, oh! pray do not
curse me."

Leon stood on the lawn before the mansion, breathing health and enjoyment. What cared he for the absence of the picturesque? For him there were plenty of turreted castles in the clouds "Keep your watch," the woman sternly said, when the evening sun gilded them with a parting closing her hand the moment the gold buttons tinge, and he missed not those reared by human touched her palm; "it would be missed and rehands. He was at the age when trees are only claimed, and my lord, the count, would have me desired to be climbed-when the inexperienced punished like a thief for it—the buttons I will eye and heart feel the want of nothing, and the keep, and even endure a whipping for them, if fresh fancy conjures up the images it would feed they must be bought at that price. No! I will upon. But Leon was not in a dreamy mood. not curse you-not for your own sake, but for There were boats and boatmen at his command, your mother's"-she spoke the last words emgrooms and ponies in the stable, and, in the back- phatically-" take heed, however, young lordyard, a kennel full of dogs, a heterogeneous mix-ling, that your luck in life match your pride ;” ture of his own selection; and he was revolving so saying, she shook her rags about her, and, in his mind whether he should yield to any of these temptations, or seek the game-keeper and his beavers, gazing the whilst mechanically toLeon remained transfixed to the spot, gazing wards the river, when he felt a slight tug at his after the old woman, like one in a trance. velvet polonaise. The boy started; and, turning him she appeared little else than one of those round, perceived the hated Jakubska standing close wicked fairies he had so often read of, whose to him, and attempting, with the humility of a wand had the power of transforming diamonds Polish vassal, to kiss the hem of his robe. Cus- and rubies into ashes, and lovely young princesses tomary as was this token of respect, Leon shrank into hideous wenches; and, as he now beheld her, from her touch with a shudder of aversion which diminutive and spare in form, yet moving forward he did not feel for the various reptiles that crawled with a rapidity that would have baffled pursuit, across the grass. The woman perceived it, and and without any appearance of effort, striding

grasping her stick tightly, moved off without bestowing another look at the boy.


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