And hubbub, Muriel enter'd with it, 'See!

Found in a chink of that old moulder'd floor!'

My Miriam nodded with a pitying smile, As who should say 'that those who lose can find.'

Then I and she were married for a year,

One year without a storm, or even a cloud;

And you my Miriam born within the year;

And she my Miriam dead within the year.

I sat beside her dying, and she gaspt: 'The books, the miniature, the lace are hers,

My ring too when she comes of age, or

when

She marries; you - you loved me, kept your word.

You love me still "Io t'amo." - Muriel

—no

(Our old bright bird that still is veering there

Above his four gold letters) 'and the light,'

She said, was like that light' - and there she paused,

And long; till I believing that the girl's Lean fancy, groping for it, could not find

One likeness, laugh'd a little and found her two

A warrior's crest above the cloud of war'.

A fiery phoenix rising from the smoke, The pyre he burnt in.' — 'Nay,' she said, 'the light

That glimmers on the marsh and on the grave.'

And spoke no more, but turn'd and

loved;

So, following her old pastime of the brook,

She threw the fly for me; but oftener left

That angling to the mother. 'Muriel's health

Had weaken'd, nursing little Miriam. Strange!

She used to shun the wailing babe, and dotes

On this of yours.' But when the matin

saw

That hinted love was only wasted bait, Not risen to, she was bolder. 'Ever since

You sent the fatal ring I told her 'sent

To Miriam,' 'Doubtless-ay, but ever, since

In all the world my dear one sees but you

In your sweet babe she finds but you

she makes

Her heart a mirror that reflects but you.'
And then the tear fell, the voice broke.
Her heart!

I gazed into the mirror, as a man
Who sees his face in water, and a stone,
That glances from the bottom of the
pool,

Strike upward thro' the shadow; yet at last,

Gratitude loneliness - desire to keep So skilled a nurse about you alwaysnay!

Some half remorseful kind of pity too Well! well, you know I married Muriel Erne.

'I take thee Muriel for my wedded wife'

I had forgotten it was your birthday,

child

When all at once with some electric

thrill

A cold air pass'd between us, and the hands

Fell from each other, and were join'd again.

No second cloudless honeymoon was

mine.

For by and by she sicken'd of the farce,

Than ever you were in your cra moan'd,

'I am fitter for my bed, or for my gra I cannot go, go you.' And then rose,

She clung to me with such a hard e brace,

So lingeringly long, that half-amazei
I parted from her, and I went alone.
And when the bridegroom murmer".
With this ring,'

I felt for what I could not find, the k
The guardian of her relics, of her ring
I kept it as a sacred amulet

About me, gone! and gone in th

embrace!

Then, hurrying home, I found her na in house

Or garden up the tower-an icv air Fled by me.-There, the chest was ope

all

The sacred relics tost about the floorAmong them Muriel lying on her faceI raised her, call'd her, 'Muriel, Murie, wake!'

The fatal ring lay near her; the glazed

eye

Glared at me as in horror. Dead! I took