HER GRACE OF RICHMOND.

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HER GRACE OF RICHMOND.

BY THE HON. MRS. NORTON.

HAUGHTY and beautiful! thy noble birth
Upon thy brow's smooth tablet may be read;
And thou with measured step dost walk the earth,
As though its dust were honoured by thy tread.

Majesty is thy soul. Thy very hand

Its share of graceful dignity obtains-
Seems as its wave sufficed for a command,

And carries freedom in its azure veins.

Thy robe's full sweep descends in ample folds,
As conscious of thy stateliness of place;
The very zone thy slender waist that holds
Seems proud. Oh! beautiful in form and face!
How long might idlers stand and gaze on thee,
Rapt in wild dreams of glorious deeds and days,
When such as thou cheered England's chivalry,
Or smiled reward upon the minstrel's lays!
How might the poet sigh who knew thee not,
And, all-forgetting in his listless trance,

Give to such regal charms a queenly lot,
And suit thy picture with a proud romance!

E

THE EMIGRANT.

BY S. C. HALL.

PART I.

He stood alone-and yet amid the crowd,

The noisy crowd that thronged the vessel's deck, Hailing with blessings, fervent, long, and loud, The far-off land, now dwindled to a speck. Still, as it faded, and a cheer went round,

He stood alone-from all aloof-apart;

And, if his ear had caught the joyous sound,
There seemed no echoing pulse within his heart.

Beside the helm he stood, still gazing back

Toward the red west, where the glad sun had set, Yet more intent upon the white foam-track Of parted waters, mingling as they met : Bare-headed there he stood-alone-alone

Arms folded, eyes half closed, and lips compressedA tattered cloak around his thin limbs thrown, The fierce wind beating his half-naked breast.