"Paul, lay thy noisy rattle by!"

Thus Margaret said. "Where are we? we

ascend!"

"Yes; seest thou not our journey's end? Hearest not the osprey from the belfry cry? The hideous bird, that brings ill luck, we know! Dost thou remember when our father said,

The night we watched beside his bed,

' O daughter, I am weak and low; Take care of Paul; I feel that I am dying!' And thou, and he, and I, all fell to crying? Then on the roof the osprey screamed aloud; And here they brought our father in his shroud. There is his grave; there stands the cross we

set;

Why dost thou clasp me so, dear Margaret?

Come in! The bride will be here soon:

Thou tremblest! O my God! thou art going to swoon!"

“What wouldst thou do, my daughter?”—and she started;

And quick recoiled, aghast, faint-hearted ; But Paul, impatient, urges ever more

Her steps towards the open door;

And when, beneath her feet, the unhappy maid.

Crushes the laurel near the house immortal,

And with her head, as Paul talks on again,
Touches the crown of filigrane

Suspended from the low-arched portal,
No more restrained, no more afraid,

She walks, as for a feast arrayed,

And in the ancient chapel's sombre night

They both are lost to sight.

At length the bell,

With booming sound,

Sends forth, resounding round,

Its hymeneal peal o'er rock and down the dell. It is broad day, with sunshine and with

rain;

And yet the guests delay not long,
For soon arrives the bridal train,

And with it brings the village throng.

In sooth, deceit maketh no mortal gay,
For lo! Baptiste on this triumphant day,
Mute as an idiot, sad as yester-morning,
Thinks only of the beldame's words of warning.

And Angela thinks of her cross, I wis;
To be a bride is all! The pretty lisper

Feels her heart swell to hear all round her whisper, "How beautiful! how beautiful she is!"

But she must calm that giddy head,
For already the Mass is said ;

At the holy table stands the priest;
The wedding ring is blessed; Baptiste receives it;
Ere on the finger of the bride he leaves it,

He must pronounce one word at least! 'Tis spoken; and sudden, at the groomsman's side,

"'T is he!" a well-known voice has cried.

And while the wedding guests all hold their

breath,

Opes the confessional, and the blind girl, see! "Baptiste," she said, "since thou hast wished my death,

As holy water be my blood for thee!"
And calmly in the air a knife suspended!
Doubtless her guardian angel near attended,
For anguish did its work so well,
That, ere the fatal stroke descended,
Lifeless she fell!

At eve, instead of bridal verse,

The De Profundis filled the air;

Decked with flowers, a simple hearse
To the churchyard forth they bear;
Village girls in robes of snow
Follow, weeping as they go;

Nowhere was a smile that day,

No, ah no! for each one seemed to say:

"The roads should mourn and be veiled in

gloom,

So fair a corpse shall leave its home!

Should mourn and should weep, ah, well

away!

So fair a corpse shall pass to-day!"