ISHONOUR BEAUTY.

The words chosen as the subject of the following verses, form the first
line of an antiquated song, of which the remainder seems not to have
been preserved.--See Mr Dauney's "_Ancient Scotish Melodies_," p. 227.

"Let never Cruelty dishonour Beauty"--
Be no such war between thy face and mind.
Heaven with each blessing sends an answering duty:
It made thee fair, and meant thee to be kind.

Resemble not the panther's treacherous seeming,
That looks so lovely to beguile its prey;
Seek not to match the basilisk's false gleaming,
That charms the fancy only to betray.

See the great Sun! God's best and brightest creature--
Alike on good and ill his gifts he showers:
Look at the Earth, whose large and liberal nature
To all who court her offers fruits or flowers.

Then, lady, lay aside that haughty scorning--
A robe unmeet to deck a mortal frame;
Mild be thy light, and innocent as morning,
And shine on high and humble still the same.

Bid thy good-will, in bright abundance flowing,
To all around its kindly stream impart;
Thy love the while on One alone bestowing,
The fittest found, the husband of thy heart!

THE LAST HOURS OF A REIGN.

A TALE IN TWO PARTS.--PART II.

CHAPTER III.

"A deep and mighty shadow
Across my heart is thrown,
Like a cloud on a summer meadow,
Where the thunder wind hath blown!"

BARRY CORNWALL.

At this period of French history, and even up to a period much later,
the bridges which crossed the Seine, and connected the two separate
parts of the city of Paris, were built over with houses, and formed
narrow streets across the stream. These houses, constructed almost
entirely of wood, the beams of which were disposed in various
directions, so as to form a sort of pattern, and ornamented with carved
window-sills and main-beams, were jammed together like figs in a cask,
and presented one gable to the confined gangway, the other to the water,
which, in many cases, their upper story overhung with a seemingly
hazardous spring outward. Towards the river, also, many were adorned
with wooden balconies, sheltered by the far-advancing angles of the
roofs; whilst beneath, upon the water, the piles of the bridge were
encumbered by many water-mills, to the incessant noise of which, habit
probably reconciled the inhabitants of the houses above.

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