DIES BOREALES; OR CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS. BY PROFESSOR JOHN WILSON, PHILADELPHIA: -A. HART, LATE CAREY AND HART. DIES BOREALES. No. I. CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS. SCENE-Cladich, Lochawe-side. TIME-Sunrise. NORTH-BULLER-SEWARD. North. "Under the opening eyelids of the Morn!" Mefeels, Amici, at this moment, the charm of that Impersonation. Slowly awaking from sleep-scarcely conscious of her whereabouts-bewildered by the beauty of the revelation, nor recognizing her beloved lochs and mountains-visionary and nameless all as if an uncertain prolongation of her Summer's Night's dream. Seward. I was not going to speak, my dear sir. North. And now she is broad awake. She sees the heaven and the earth, nor thinks, God bless her, that 'tis herself that beautifies them! Seward. Twenty years since I stood on this knoll, honored sir, by your side-twenty years to a day-and now the same perfect peace possesses me-mysterious return-as if all the WUR TYFEB 36 14 interve: a conti Nort Memor blamel rence t into ob return but the Sew Sycam centurie down striplin Bull Nort mornin Bulle of bees yet no 1 one sing few wor The Gr Nort from hi populou though are the Bulle THE UNDEL CANTASS. I wa n it- marble block. theve me, gentlemen, I have s az emi di again. h: Tan yet boys-on the sunny sory you Seward, to act the guide to X- North what may be the name of that Call: LOCH-AWE, • ——tha: I talk nonsense. Polis muestion—but you know, sir, that zatairie mother I have been three times Sofian wthườn having seen Loch-Awe. us à voir aves now, sirah, and you to de cor That is Cruachan— making The sun is up, and AAT VOL over such shadows? And now how beautifully they © ip%w * 8* vo: the broad black forest, half-way up |