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SHE TOOK THE INSTRUMENT AND TOUCING FT WITH A REAR

OLS SOFTNESS" SANG TO IT A CANADIAN VESPER SONG"

LONDON

John Bennat Jun 9 New Sate Street.

1839

so attractive, that we resolved to devote a day to it. A house of entertainment there accommodated us all.

"When our carriages had been put up, and the mules fed, we sallied out, with three high-born ladies, known to the Italians with us, who lived in a villa near; and, being all in high spirits, chose a turfy rise convenient for our purpose, where we sat down on the dry grass, and partook, with great relish, and much lightness of heart, of a cold collation which our host provided.

“Afterwards, a lute was handed round, and rondeaus, and other French and Italian airs, having been sung by each of the company in turn, excepting Marie, they performed canzonettes together.

"The scene was a green vista, winding away before us to the edge of a lake, whose waters were dyed a splendid crimson by the sun, which was then approaching the end of its career for that day. Long lines of sunlight chequered the vista, and beautifully relieved that tender twilight which the shade of the trees, and the hour, had shed there. Groves of lemon, mulberry, orange, and chesnut trees, all in full bloom, and filling the air with their fragrance, clothed the high slopes on each side the path, and overhung it.

"Our gaiety increased as the sun declined, and when the moon arose, we were still in the same enchanting spot. Marie had not sang, but now being much pressed to do so, and unwilling to incur an imputation of affectation, took the instrument, and, touching it with ‘a religious softness,' sang to it a Canadian vesper-song, in a voice charmingly clear and flute-like. The praises that succeeded confused her, but I thought them well deserved. A repetition of the song was called for; she

would have excused herself; Nay, Marie,' said I, presenting the lute to her again, indeed you must comply.' She looked at me, as if to say, I cannot refuse you,' and, taking the lute, played, instead of her former air, one that was exceedingly melancholy, to which her voice gave suitable expression, in these verses, which I had given her at Rougemont, to the memory of the daughter of an Indian chief who lay buried there:

Hark! do you hear through the depth of the even,

A wail from the forest, a moan from the wave?
That is the wail of a mourner to heaven,

That is a moan over Neumaha's grave!

Oh! soft was the light of her eye in its beaming,
And bright were the smiles on her innocent lip,
And pure was her heart in youth's earliest dreaming,
As the wild-rose the honey-bee loveth to sip.

The lake that so tranquilly spreads itself near,
Reflecting the sky in its bosom of blue,
Was not more unsullied than she who lies here,
And her bosom reflected heaven's loveliness too.
She bloomed like the first tender flower of the spring,
And withered too soon beneath sorrows chill gale;
Now on Neumaha's grave-sod the moon loves to fling
Her brightest of beams when she lights up the vale.

No axe ever sounded where Neumaha lies;

The wild-pine bends o'er her-her pillow is green;
The dove to its nest on her turfy-couch flies,

And the red-deer and beaver beside it are seen.

Here doth she sleep through the long, silent hours,

Where the bittern and whip-poor-will raise their sad notes,
Where the lone dryad calls from his thick forest bowers
To water-nymphs gliding in pearly-shell boats.

Fall softly, ye dews! on the young maidens grave;
Softly murmur, ye winds! o'er her grass-pillowed head;
Disturb not her rest, nor the Indian brave

Who, stern in his sorrow, keeps watch by the dead.'

"One of the ladies then sang a sprightly French sonnet, with all that elegant and fascinating liveliness which distinguishes her countrywomen. It was now my turn to contribute to the amusement of the party, and, having rejected both the lute and mandolin which were proffered me, I took, for the sake of variety, a French bugle, an instrument on which I flattered myself I excelled, and played some of the favourite martial airs of my country, that were new to my listeners. On a sudden Marie interrupted my performance by an exclamation of alarm; she was more remarkably pale than ever I had seen her; by a look she imposed silence on me; it was supposed that she was ill through fatigue.

66

Apologising to the company, she expressed a wish. to return to the inn, that she might go to rest.

"We all proceeded together to the inn, where I and Marie left our companions in a room that opened on a balcony hung with jessamine, and the curling tendrils of the vine, intermingled with blushing clusters of grapes. They continued enjoying the luxurious moonlight, and the balmy and odorous air, until long past midnight; their combined voices in the canzonettes swelled exquisitely on our ears when we had retired to our chamber. "I saw, as soon as we were free from observation of

the

company, that Marie's manner portended some misfortune. Hardly had I the courage to question hernor did she give me time. With quick hands she locked the door on the inside, and to my surprise held the candle to it, searching for bolts to make it more secure; then extinguishing the light drew me to the window. Say not a word to me,' she articulated under her breath, 'but observe.' I looked out, and at first could distinguish

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