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'Mid lonely by ways of the brain,
There, with its haunting grace, to seem

Set in the landscape of a dream.
The pines form an inexhaustible subject of gentle imaginings to
Mr. Hayne-

Low, flutelike breezes sweep the waves of light,

And lifting dark green tresses of the pines,
Till every lock is luminous — gently foat,

Fraught with hale odors up the heavens afar,
To faint when twilight on her virginal throat

Wears for a gem the tremulous vesper star. Midsummer in the South gives birth to the following picturesque lines :

I love midsummer uplands, free
To the bold raids of breeze and bee,
Where, nested warm in yellowing grass,
I hear the swift-winged partridge pass,
With whirr and boom of gusty flight,
Across the broad heath's treeless height;
Or, just where, elbow-poised, I list
Above the wild-flower's careless drift
My half-closed eyes, I see and hear
The blithe field-sparrow twittering clear
Quick ditties to his tiny love ;
While, from afar, the timid dove,
With faint, voluptuous murmur, wakes

The silence of the pastoral brakes. We wish we had space to quote two exquisite sonnets : Sunset, the Godlike artist," and After the Tornado. By the Grave of Henry Timrod has all the tenderness of an elegy an Adonais of mourning friendship. Mr. Hayne's affection for his friend seems to have been great. He writes of it becomingly in his charming memorial of Timrod. Poor Timrod was a rich sheaf for Death's garner. spread their fragrance over five graceful stanzas —

Here, where sunshine and coy shadows meet,
Outgleam the tender eyes of violets sweet,

Touched by the vapory noontide's fleeting gold.
A March morning suggests delicate word-pictures to the poet –

All maiden verdures, concords of sweet air,

Stealing as dawn steals gently on the world;
Breezes balm-laden, blown from distant seas,

With armies of blush-roses dew-impearled.
Firida and her Poet is full of “love's sweet blossoming

Love in Heaven's tongue means immortality

Of youth and joy. Preexistence is rich in mysterious monitions of an earlier life. A Thousand Years from Now reminds us of Alexander Smith in single passages. In the poem On the Death of Canon Kingsley occurs a striking line

On the feeble and the poor
He lavished the rich spikenard of his heart.

Violets

Does not Mr. Hayne in Visit of Mahmoud Ben Suleim to Paradise slightly confuse Greek and Mahommedan imagery? There is something in Our Humming-bird which recalls the exquisite poem of the Dane, Henrik Ibsen, “Agnes, min deilige Sommer-fugl.”

But it does Mr. Hayne injustice to pick out passages and display them ostentatiously to the reader as if the surrounding context were barren. Readers must get the book and judge for themselves. All lovers of poetry will welcome The Mountain of the Lovers, and the dainty imagination, the culture, the Southern fire, and the feminine delicacy and purity which abound in it.

J. A. H.

THE GREEN TABLE.

AS

S the painful remembrances of the late war begin to fade away,

we can look with less feeling of incongruity at the amusing features of it, which were certainly many. At the outset, few, not of the military profession, had a very distinct idea of what war was ; and the absurdest plans were broached and suggestions offered on both sides. But it is likely that there were few more grotesque devices than the following, copied from the original document captured by the Confederates when Banks's headquarters at Frederick fell into their hands, during Lee's march to Sharpsburg

" BOSTON, Sept. 12th, 1861. Gen. N. P. BANKS — Sir:

As a loyal stranger to you, I take the liberty of presenting two ideas which may be worth your while to put in practice should occasion require them."

[We omit the first “idea,” which is a recipe for making bridges fireproof, and pass on to the second.]

“My next idea is a sure and easy mode of rendering the enemy's cavelry almost harmless. It is well known by many dear bought accidental cases that the Sting of the Honey Bee upon the Horse will cause the animals to be totaly unmanageable by their riders. To put that idea into practical Loyal use I propose the following. Obtain 10 gallon kegs or

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they receive a slight blow. These Kegs or Boxes or Hives are to have a light hollow piece of wood A to fit loosely the bore of the cannon B. A few small

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gimblet holes should be made on the sides of the kegs or boxes in an oblique direction and for air. The obliqueness CC prevents the too great rush of air into the kegs or boxes. The head of the keg next the cannon's mouth may be of thick wood to support the shaft A. That shaft may be made of strips of wood nailed on to two circular pieces and the strips an inch or so apart, but any of your ingenious Yankee boys can easily supply the mechanical labor necessary to practicalize the idea. When fired among cavelry, it will cause such an “irrepressible conflict” as will place such an enemy entirely at the mercy of your troops. A small swarm contains about 20,000 Bees, so that 10 boxes of them would, if fired at the right time and place, put any number of cavelry in your power. No man can SET ON a horse that is stúng by even a single Bee. Hives of Bees may be transported any distance at night from any part of the country. Any good Bee master can obtain hives in any quantity and manage the handling of them. I have no doubt that there are many good Bee masters in the ranks of your regiments who would be able to practicalize the idea. One of the best Bee masters in the U. S. is a Mr. Quimby of St. Johnsville Montgomery Co. N. Y. He has been and I presume he is now so largely interested in their cultivation that he would be able to furnish any number of swarms from

to 5000, besides thoroughly understanding how to handle them for transportation &c. in case you should entertain the views I have presented.

I believe that the above mode of warfare would save life and win battles by making prisoners. With the belief and hope that you will be successful upon the field of battle I remain Yours with respect

T. J. LEWIS.

[Indorsed.]

T. 7. Lewis Boston On a process of making wood fire-proof and shooting Bees at the enemy, &c.

No answer. From this indorsement it would seem that General Banks decided the great question, “to bee, or not to bee,'' in the negative.

A THOUGHT.
As when, though swiftly fades the twilight's hours,

A sudden glory sets the west aglow;
As when, though sharp the rime and dead the flowers,

Beneath the sunny wall sweet violets blow;
As when, though past the summer's fervid beams,

A wondrous radiance sweeps the autumn skies;
As when, though lone and rest, the orphan dreams

Of the old home and a dear mother's eyes :
So is it Love! For Love still bids me love –

Hope lingers still in presence of Despair ;
So against all, the restrained currents move,

Nor hopeless quite the heart throbs forth its prayer :
! Hopes flash and gloom, but Love burns on – Oh yet

Belicve, Love never dies, nor ever can forget !

Roger GRAHAME.

A corRESPONDENT (Mr. L. Cruger, of Washington) informs us that its poem “ Byzantium,” published in our last number with an inquiry as to its authorship, was written by the Rev. W. C. Kinglake, of Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1830, and published in Cambridge Prize Poems, 1840.

THE

SOUTHERN MAGAZINE

OCTOBER, 1875.

,

SCOTTISH AND SCANDINAVIAN PICTURES.

III.

THE

PICTURES FROM NORWAY, FROM THE DANISH OF BjöRNSON.
"HE Norwegian Northland and Finland are so little known by

our people outside of the districts themselves and their business relations, that one can hardly ask of Danes and Swedes that they should know them. Meanwhile, I address this encouragement to spend a holiday up there to both. But I must immediately add that those whose means or time may be insufficient to make more than one or two extended journeys in their lives are, of course, not the ones to whom I suggest this journey; but the many, on the contrary, who have seen the European lands of culture, who have lost their longing for great cities, who no longer seek amusement, but a few months' refreshment amid extraordinary scenery. I address myself equally to those who will restore their constitutions, and who must accordingly. rather choose invigorating sea-journeys than the suffocating life of the Spas. A bit of sea-sickness may, to be sure, take passage with you, though seldomer in the still summer weather; but sea-sickness is not only a healthy sickness, but no excursion can be found less exposed to it than this, for with a few exceptions the whole way is shut in by islands; even in considerable storms the steamer floats along tranquilly for days; you live as if you were on your own floor, with the difference that you feed on rich sea-air and have before your eyes the grandest scenery of the North. The English have found it out; Americans, Frenchmen, and Dutch, too. Ten or twenty foreigners

sun.

visit these localities to each pleasure-seeking Northman. The English have bought or rented all the best salmon-fisheries and huntinggrounds up there.

The old German painter Preller, who in his time sought in the Northern lands studies for his historical landscapes, said to me: “Whoever will see sea and earth and air in conflict with man and with each other, must make a journey to the North.” A pleasureseeker wouid, perhaps, not wish to see it, as its passionateness might easily break out over himself; but in the presence of these mountainforms, and with the suggestions which Naiure always takes the trouble to make, he may fancy it, and get full information from the people on the spot.

I mention this because the Northman's stories of his scenery and achievements are among the best reminiscences of my trip. His imagination has been brought up amid danger and solitude, and has kinship with the landscape.

A German, Alexander v. Ziegler, who had travelled extensively, was the first (be it to my shame confessed) that awakened a desire in me to see these districts. He named three places in the world which, each in its kind, he called the grandest he had ever seen, and one of these was Finland and the North of Norway.

The trip must be so arranged that you travel by land to Ramsos, either going or returning. In every event one must be among the Northlands by the last of June or beginning of July for the midnight

It is seen with full effect later too, but farther north and only on elevated or open places. The journey seems to me to be very dear. If the various steamship companies could agree upon a reduction for through excursionists from Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, in proportion to the length of the trip, and so one could on the way alight and then resume the journey at pleasure, it would be certainly to their advantage ; for this summer-route cannot fail soon to be one of the most frequented in the world. It cannot fail to be so ; for so truly as the Northman loves poetry and the Sagas, must he love to behold the scenery that gives the ground-tone to the Edda's finest poems or the mightiest action of the Sagas. Longing after drinking in such impressions of Nature is innate to every Northerner, whether he dwell by sea or mountain. As soon as you have sailed out of Ramsos Inlet

among the loveliest in our land -as it meanders on through fir-grown mountains and projecting meadows, and the Troudjem country is left behind, the scenery also changes. The larger growths of trees take refuge along the more protected fjords, where the sea-storms cannot break in, and where man's access to devastate is not easier. For it is beyond all gainsay that immense forests once throve along this entire coast, and that what men left was swallowed up by the storms of the

The belt of grass that extends on up to Finland is among the most luxuriant I have seen. It stands thick as the hairs on a reindeer, beautifully green and juicy from the salt sea that bedews it, often literally, always through the medium of the atmosphere. Cattle-tending is so weighty a factor in the life of the Northman that even a good fish cannot feed him when wet weather occasionally hinders him from getting the rich grass under cover. This circumstance is agreeable,

sea.

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