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--her brow was garlanded by the young

 years sweetest fowers-her yellow locks were hanging beautifully and low upon her

 bosom-and she moved through the crowd 1 with such floating and unearthly grace,

 that the bewildered Gazer almost looked to

 sec her fade away into the air, like a crea- tioh oii some pleasant dream. She seem-

 ed cheerful and even gay; yet I saw that galty was but the mockery of her feelings.

 She smiled, but there was something in her

 smile, which told that it's mournful beauty

 was but the bright reflection of and her eyeids, at times, closed heavily de#n us ifstruggling to repress the tide of agony, that was bursting up from her hearts secret urn. She looked as If she cold have left the scene of festisity, and gone out be- heath the quiet stars, and laid her forehead down upon the fresh green earth, and poured out her stricken soul, gush after gush, till it mingled with the eternal fountain of life andpurity.

 Days and weeks passed on, and that sweet girl gave me her confidence, and | became to her as brother. She was vast ing away by disease. The smile upon her llp was fainter, the purple veins upon her cheek grew visible and the cadences of her yolcebecame dailymore weak andtremulous. On quiet evening in the depth of June, | wandered out with hes in the open air. IL was then that she first told mo the tale of her passion and tho blight that had como down like miidew upon her lite. Love had been portion of her existence. It's ten- drIis had been twined around her heart in Its earliest years, and when they were rent. they left wound that flowed till all the springs her soul were blood. s'I am pass. ing awav," said she, and it should be SO. The winds have gone over my life, and the bright buds fhope, and the sweet blossoms of passion, are scattered down, and lie with- ering in the dust. And yet I cannot 20 down among the tombs without tear. It IS hard to take leave of the friends who love me, Ii IS very hard 10 bid farewell 10 these dear scenes, with which I have held com munion from childhood, and which from day to day have caught the color of my life, and sympathised with it's joys and sorrows. That little grove where 1 have so often strayed with my buried love, and where at times, even now, the sweet tones of his voice seem to come stealing around me un- til the whole air becomes intense and mourn ful melody-that pensive star, which wo used to watch in it's early rising, and on which my fancy can still picture his form looking down upon mo and beckoning me to his own bright home--svery flower. and tree, and rivulet, on which the memory of our early love has set it's undying seal have become dear to me, and cannot, without a sigh, close my eyes upon them for ever. I have lately heard. that tho beautiful girl of whom have spoken is dead. The close of her life was as calm as tho falling of quiet streams gentle as the sinking of the breeze, that fingers for time around bed of withered roses, and then dies ssas 'twere from very sweetness" Bright creature of my dreams in that realm shall see thee again. Even now thy lost image is some- times with me. In the mysterious silence of midnight, when the dreams are glowing in the light Of the many stars, that image comes floating upon tho beam, that fingers around my pillow, and stands before me in it's pale, dim, loveliness, till it's own quiet spirit sinks like spell from heaven upon my thodghts, and the grief of years is turned to dreams of blessedness and peace.