ughts of matrimony, "such a wife would I desire."--And such
a wife mayst thou obtain.--Clarine's husband fell sick--a dangerous
illness.--"No hope" said the physician, and shook his awful whig.
Bitterly wept Clarine. "O death!" she cried, "O death! might I prefer
a petition? Spare my husband; let me be the victim in his stead."
Death heard, appeared, and "What," said the grim spectre, "is thy
request?" "There," said Clarine sore dismayed, "There he lies;
overcome with agony he implores thy speedy relief."

_The Nightingale_, I-199, June 16, 1796, Boston.

[C. F. Gellert, _Die zaertliche Frau_. The introductory stanza not
translated.]

THE LASS OF FAIR WONE.
From the German of Buerger.

_Phila. Minerva_, II, Dec. 17, 1796, Phila.

[G. A. Buerger, _Des Pfarrers Tochter von Taubenhain_.

W. Taylor of Norwich, _The Lass of Fair Wone_ in the _Monthly
Magazine_, I-223, Apr. 1796, London. Also in Taylor's _Historic Survey
of German Poetry_, 3 vols., 1830, London. II-32, under the title _The
Parson's Daughter_.]

VIRTUE REWARDED:
A PASTORAL TALE.
(From the German of Gesner).

[Prose translation.]

_Phila. Minerva_, II, Dec. 17, 1796, Phila.

[S. Gessner, _Daphne_. W. Hooper, _New Idylles by Gessner_, p. 33,
_Glicera_.]

MISCELLANEOUS.
By FERDINAND WALLHIME.

THE WISH
(in imitation of Matthison).

Once more could I wish, ere yet my blest spirit
Sunk in Elysium, peaceful mansion of shades!
That spot t' revisit, where Infancy
In dreams aerial, play'd 'round my brows.

The shrub of my country, whose branches o'erspread
The cool nest of the patridge, waves gentler my friend,
Than all the gay forests of laurel
O'er the dust of the world's mighty conq'rors.

The streamlet of that mead, where in childhood
I cull'd early violets, more musically murmurs
'Midst the alders once rear'd by my sire,
Than the silver Blandusian fountain.

The hill, on which swains, in bands youthful and gay
Danc'd 'round the trunk of the sweet blossom'd poplar,
With greater rapture inspir'd my heart,
Than Alps dazzling heights in roset glimm'ring.

Therefore could I wish, ere yet my bl