glow! For O, how still is the summer sea, when the stars shine out and the sunset fades, giving place, with its gorgeous drapery, to the silver moon

and the evening shades!" Ah, true, Miss Percy! this charms you, then?" said Hunt, as he stepped to the maiden's side, and tossed the cigar, that he smoked with the men, into the gently heaving tide. Perchance for your sake I might bear the sluggish calm, and the silent seas, but O! I had much rather dare the mountain wave and the ringing breeze. There 's far more danger lingering here, than when, close-reefed, we are lying to; but, ladies, I would not cause a fear, so, Forbes, we will have a song from you." Dick Forbes could sing, and you may be sure, at Newport, where they for weeks had been, his light guitar and his songs from Moore had delighted the ladies and teased the men. With a nonchalant air his guitar he strung, and this was the song that Dick Forbes sung.

SONG.

"WHEN twilight dews are falling soft

Upon the rosy sea,

I watch the star whose beam so oft

Has lighted me to thee;

And thou, too, on that orb so clear,

Ah! dost thou gaze at even,

And think, though lost for ever here,
Thou 'It yet be mine in heaven?

II.

"There's not a garden walk I tread,

There's not a flower I see,

But brings to mind some hope that's fled,
Some joy I've lost with thee;

And still I wish that hour was near,

When, friends and foes forgiven,

The pains, the ills, we've wept through here,
May turn to smiles in heaven!"

O, soothing and sweet is the sounding strain that Moore has wed to immortal verse! for songs so good we shall look in vain, although we are often bored with worse. A murmuring hum of applause went round, while Forbes was tuning a recreant string, and the gentlemen there, as in duty bound, were begging Madame Passo to sing. She sang from "Lucia " a little gem. Hushed while

she sings the group remain; at the close, a mental diadem from the circle there she is sure to gain. The song was o'er. A strain arose from the deck of a schooner floating near. So still that hour of calm repose, each word sank deep on the listener's ear, and mingling with the manly tone, a maiden's voice was gently heard: upfloating to their Father's throne, this soft petition was preferred.

I.

"Day unto day doth utter speech,

And night to night Thy voice makes known;

Through all the earth, where thought may reach,
Is heard the glad and solemn tone,

And worlds, beyond the farthest star

Whose light hath reached the human eye,

Catch the high anthem from afar,

That rolls along immensity.

II.

"O holy Father, 'mid the calm

And stillness of the evening hour,

We, too, would lift our solemn psalm

To praise thy goodness and thy power;

For over us, as over all,

Thy tender mercies still extend,

Nor vainly shall the contrite call

On thee, their Father and their Friend." *

Dick Forbes could sing nothing so good as that, so he tuned his guitar with a careless air, and, sighing, declared the B string flat, and wondered what maid in the schooner there, possessed such voice, such feeling and skill, and who in the world the man was who sang with the maid and kept time so ill;- he was sure he could teach him a thing or two. "That 's malice prepense,' cried the gay Miss Wood; "I never heard better

time or tone; excuse me, but pray, Sir, be so good, ere you criticize others, to mend your own." Miss Wood was one of those fairies who can say whatever they choose in a certain way; when you gaze on her face, you are more than man, if you dare to dispute her magic sway.

Forbes felt all this, so he didn't speak, for he knew in a minute again she 'd turn and ask him to

"A Psalm of Night."-W. H. Burleigh.

come some day next week, that difficult passage in "Norma" to learn. So he whistled an air, and tuned a string, as Miss Wood approached and demanded when he was coming that little song to bring, that he wrote for her in the woodland glen. "You would n't care if you heard it?" "No, do sing it." "Yes, some time, not tonight, for I rather think I must go below, I've a cold." "Well, really, it must be slight, for you

never before

sung half so well as you did just now in Twilight Dews.' You know, Miss Prince, and you, Miss Bell, how well he sung, - now don't refuse." "But pray, Miss Wood, say how can I, who keep, as you say, such poor time, to dare to please you even try,- for now you'll scold both tune and rhyme? Ah! here's my sister; she will do better than I should think of doing. I feel, like indigo, somewhat blue, but Sue will sing without much suing."

Sue Forbes ! can pen and ink reveal the lovely shapes that haunt the earth, and through our morning visions steal, with smiles of love and