I used to hear the traveller's voice
As here he past along,

Or maiden as she loiter'd home

Singing her even-song.

I never hear the traveller's voice,
In fear he hastens by,

But I have heard the village maid
In vain for succour cry.

I used to see the youths row here
And watch the dripping oar,
As pleasantly their viols tones
Came softened to the shore,

King Henry many a blacken'd corpse
I now see floating down!

Thou bloody man! repent in time
And leave this leager'd town.

I shall go on, King Henry cried
And conquer this good land,

Seest thou not Hermit that the Lord
Has given it to my hand?

F

The Hermit heard King Henry speak
And angrily look'd down,-

His face was gentle and for that
More solemn was his frown.

What if no miracle from heaven
The murderers arm controul,
Think you for that the weight of blood
Lies lighter on his soul?

Thou conqueror King repent in time Or dread the coming woe,

For Henry thou hast heard the threat And soon shalt feel the blow.

King Henry forced a careless smile,
As the Hermit went his way ;

But Henry soon remembered him
Upon his dying day.

The AFFECTIONATE HEART.

By JOSEPH COTTLE.

Let the great man, his treasures possessing,
Pomp and splendour for ever attend:
I prize not the shadowy blessing,
I ask the affectionate friend.

Tho' foibles may sometimes o'ertake him,
His footstep from wisdom depart ;
Yet, my spirit shall never forsake him,
If he own the affectionate heart.

Affection! thou soother of care,
Without thee unfriended we rove;
Thou canst make e'en the desert look fair,
And thy voice is the voice of the dove.

'Mid the anguish that preys on the breast, And the storms of mortality's state; What shall lull the afflicted to rest,

But the joys that on sympathy wait›

What is Fame, bidding Envy defiance, The idol and bane of mankind;

What is wit, what is learning, or science, To the heart that is stedfast and kind ?

Even Genius may weary the sight,
By too fierce and too constant a blaze ;
But Affection, mild planet of night!
Grows lovelier the longer we gaze.

It shall thrive when the flattering forms, That encircle creation decay;

It shall live mid the wide-wasting storms, That bear all undistinguish'd away.

When Time, at the end of his race,
Shall expire with expiring mankind;
It shall stand on its permanent base;
It shall last till the wreck of the mind.

OLD CHRISTOVAL'S ADVICE,
And the reason why he gave it.

Recibió un Cavallero, paraque cultivasse sus tierras, à un Quintero, y para pagarle algo adelantado le pidió fiador, y no teniendo quien le fiasse, le prometiò delante del sépulcro de San Isidro, que cumpliria su palabra, y si no, que el Santo le castigasse: con lo qual el Cavallero le pagó toaa su soldada, ye le fió. Mas desagradecido aquel hombre, no haciendo caso de su promessa, se huyó, sin acabar de servir el tiempo concertado. Passó de noche sin reparar en ella, por la Iglesia de San Andrés, donde estaba el cuerpo del siervo de Dios. Fuè cosa maravillosa, que andando corriendo toda la noche, no se apartó de la Iglesia, sino que toda se le fuè en dar mil bueltas al rededor de ella, hasta que por la mañana, yendo el amo a quexarse de San Isidro, y pedirle cumpliesse su fianza, halló à su Quintero alli, dando mas y mas bueltas, sin poderse haver apartado de aquel sitio. Pidio perdon al Santo, y a su amo, al qual satisfizo despues enteramente por su trabajo.

Flos San&torum, por Alonso de Villegas.

If thy debtor be poor, old Christoval cried,
Exact not too hardly thy due,

For he who preserves a poor man from want
May preserve him from wickedness too.