destiny hath wrought,
Ye wait me in that distant land,
And that ye long to have me there,
More that I pine your absence here,
Shall heal the touch of every care
And quench the sting of every fear.

No marble stands with towering shaft
To catch the stranger's curious eye;
No tablet graved with flattering craft,
Tells where your silent ashes lie;
But there is one secluded spot
In the deep shadows of my soul,
Where stranger foot intrudeth not,
Nor winter's wanton tempests roll.

And there in Friendship's burial-ground
The willow of remembrance bends,
And ye my sisters there have found
A home among my choicest friends;
And modelled with etherial grace,
The form of HOPE with heavenward eyes,
Stands calmly on your burial-place,
And points her finger to the skies.

I. G. HOLLAND.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.

EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.

It happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our Lord one
thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, PETER VON GEIST, found
myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on horse-back along
the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois. The space
between me and the house where I designed to stop, and the time between
then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate; so I pricked gallantly
forward; as gallantly at least as could be expected from a tired horse,
and a knight whose recreant thoughts were intensely fixed on dollars and
cents, supper, and other trifling affairs. By dint however of much
patience in the steed, and much impatience in the rider, we got over the
ground, and approached a house that had been in sight for some distance.

It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no smoke
from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or other
signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all around
the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible on its
side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the opportunity
of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and forced my way up
to the top of the knoll.

The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but the
chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had partly
tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the do