How faintly blaze its softly lingering fires !
How weeps the strain, when dawns the fatal day,
That bears her Hector from her love away ;
When her bright eyes dissolve in tearful smiles,
And Hector's voice her drooping soul beguiles ;
When for her boy her anguished bosom bleeds,
And all o’ercome, his outcast fate she pleads ;
Owns for that pledge a more than mother's fears,
And paints his doom in wild distracting tears !
O sacred sympathy! if tears be thine,
Here let them flow, and own the cause divine;
Then think of him who bade such incense rise,
And moist the dust where Nature's Poet lies !

SONNET.

BY JOHN GALT, ESQ.

FRANCIS I. AFTER THE BATTLE OF PAVIA. *

“All is lost but honour."

Yes! they may triumph, they have gain'd the day;
All, all is theirs, but the undaunted mind,
That still is mine, nor can false Fortune find
Her flight, the virtue of my heart dismay.
The hope of glory, as the vernal ray
In the dark cloud may for awhile seem gone,
But honour's orb, bright in its heavenly way,
Still shines as glorious as it ever shone.
Be mine the task then in this black eclipse,
To view serene the low'ring of my fate,
And see the dangers that around me wait,
But as some beingless apocalypse
Heav'n spoke in darkness and the light appear'd;
That heav'n is still, and the firm mind is cheer'd.

THE IRISH RECTOR.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

At a beautiful and romantic spot, on the border of the County Cavan, is situated the Rectory of K— . It was at this place, on a lovely evening in the month of August last, that one of those heart-rending scenes took place, which, to the eternal disgrace of Ireland, are so frequent.

Mr. B- , who, at that time, occupied the Rectory, was a man of a mild and unassuming disposition. He was beloved by his flock, and indeed by every one with whom he came in contact. My readers are aware, that it is the unpleasant duty of the Irish clergy to collect their incomes by tithe,—and they are also no doubt acquainted with the great difficulty and danger which often attend this collection. To obviate this difficulty, and in order that he might enjoy the affections of his parishioners, Mr. Bendeavoured, as far as possible, to have their tithes commuted ; and succeeded in this, to a great extent.

In all societies and communities, there are to be found some individuals, who are never satisfied with all the boons conferred upon them ; and, unfortunately, some of Mr. B 's parishioners belonged to this unhappy and irritable class. Notwithstanding his exertions to obtain their favor, there was still a something, which satisfied him, that although he appeared to have succeeded in this enviable object, it was but confined to appearance.

When my readers are informed, that the majority of the parishioners were Catholics, they will be at no loss to conceive the difficulty which he experienced on many occasions, in performing those duties which the Church required from him. He had laboured long in his parish, with an earnestness and assiduity which were alike honourable to his head and heart. At the time before mentioned, he was in his seventieth year, and the infirmities of age were falling quickly upon him. He was a venerable looking man. His appearance flashes upon my mind, at this moment, with a clearness only to be equalled by reality. His finely arched forehead was beautifully relieved by the silver hairs which were scattered over itand his soft blue eye gave to his countenance a striking benignity. His wife had died many years before; leaving him with a family of threema son and two daughters. The son was a tall, handsome, and amiable youth, about twenty years of age, and a fellow-student of mine at Trinity College, Dublin. The eldest daughter was about eighteen, and the youngest, fifteen

years of age; and, at the time I speak of, resided with, and managed the domestic matters of their father. Kathaleen the eldest was a beautiful blackeyed girl. Her sister was little inferior to her in beauty, or in mental accomplishments, of which they both possessed no ordinary share. They were the admiration and the envy of all the young ladies of the county, and were · familiarly known as the Rector of K- 's pretty daughters. They employed most of their time in visiting the poor, the sick, and the afflicted of the neighbourhood.

It was in returning from one of these visits, on an evening in the beginning of August last, that Kath- . aleen was obliged to take shelter under a tree to protect herself from a shower which was falling heavily. She had not remained long there, when she heard the sound of voices and the tread of footsteps approaching. Some individuals passed close by her, but owing to the darkness of the night, they were concealed from her view. They appeared to be quarreling. The loneliness of the place, her perilous situation, and the late hour, caused a strange feeling to come over her, and her whole frame trembled. The altercation now became louder, and a familiar voice struck her ear. It was that of James Murphy, a labourer on a farm adjoining her father's residence.

“ I'll never consint to that same Jim Birt, that's for yees—Och, murther, is it afther sich work thin