the army, and with a part of the money, Cathleen, who, among her other perfections, was exceedingly pious after the fashion of her creed and country, founded yearly masses for the soul of the poor Pedlar; and vowed herself to make a pilgrimage of thanksgiving to St. Gobnate's well. Mr. L. the magistrate who had first examined her in the little inn at Balgowna, made her a munificent present; and anxious, perhaps, to offer yet farther amends for his former doubts of her veracity, he invited Reilly on very advantageous terms, to settle on his estate, where he rented a neat cabin, and a handsome plot of potatoe ground. There Reilly and his Cathleen were living ten years ago, with an increasing family, and in the enjoyment of much humble happiness; and there, for aught I know to the contrary, they may be living at this day. MORNING. By D. L. Richardson. Behold glad Nature's triumph! Lo! the sun Hath burst the pall of night, and o'er the earth Reviving radiance scattered. Sleep hath done Her death-resembling reign-and thoughts have birth That fill the grateful heart with sacred mirth ! And mortals own the glory and the worth The scene is steeped in beauty-and my soul No longer lingering in the shroud of care, Doth greet creation's smile. The grey clouds roll E'en from the mountain's peaks, and melt in air. The landscape looks an Eden! who could wear The hues of sorrow now? This glorious hour Reveals the ruling God! The Heavens are bare, Each sunny stream, and blossom-mantled bower Breathes of pervading love, and shows the power That spoke him into life, hath blessed man's earthly dower. And here we get a bower, iz S Harean's ill reti, at, Pan with hour; alenad chose her lonely seat, poidered couche: lay 4, goula the pensive Moslem inaad. y the beauteous woodbines wound, 2%, bo us ht ronds the casement cund, Walter then tribute of perfume laughing in their roseate bloor: F. all neglected lay her lute Whose every moving strain was mute! |