wide
When Lyra died.
When sober Autumn, with his mist-bound brows,
Sits drearily beneath the fading boughs,
And the rain, chilly cold,
Wrings from his beard of gold,
And as some comfort for his lonesome hours,
Hides in his bosom stalks of withered flowers,
I think about what leaves are drooping round
A smoothly shapen mound;
And if the wild wind cries
Where Lyra lies,
Sweet shepherds, softly blow
Ditties most sad and low--
Piping on hollow reeds to your pent sheep--
Calm be my Lyra's sleep.
Unvexed with dream of the rough briers that pull
From his strayed lambs the wool!
O, star, that tremblest dim
Upon the welkin's rim,
Send with thy milky shadows from above
Tidings about my love;
If that some envious wave
Made his untimely grave,
Or if, so softening half my wild regrets,
Some coverlid of bluest violets
Was softly put aside,
What time he died!
Nay, come not, piteous maids,
Out of the murmurous shades;
But keep your tresses crowned as you may
With eglantine and daffodillies gay,
And with the dews of myrtles wash your cheek,
When flamy streaks,
Uprunning the gray orient, tell of morn--
While I, forlorn,
Pour all my heart in tears and plaints, instead,
FOR LYRA, DEAD.

From Fraser's Magazine.

MY NOVEL:

OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE.

BY PISISTRATUS CAXTON.

_Continued from page 126._

PART VIII.--CHAPTER XIII.

Mr. Dale had been more than a quarter of an hour conversing with Mrs.
Avenel, and had seemingly made little progress in the object of his
diplomatic mission, for now, slowly drawing on his gloves, he said,--

"I grieve to think, Mrs. Avenel, that you should have so hardened your
heart--yes--you must pardon me--it is my vocation to speak stern truths.
You cannot say that I have not kept faith with you, but I must now
invite you to remember that I specially reserved to myself the right of
exercising a discretion to act as I judged best, for the child's
interests, on any future occasion; and it was upon this understanding
that you gave me the promise, which you would now evade, of providing
for him when he came into manhood."

"I say I will provide for him. I say that you may 'prentice him in any
distant town, and by-and-by we will stock a shop for him. What would you
have more, sir, from folks like us, who have kept shop ourselves? I