foul embrace—but an unseen hand raised me. Green woods—gardens, fountains, and grottoes were around me. Beautiful flowers—roses—hyacinths, and lilies clustering in immense beds, covered the ground with one great gem’d and emerald carpet. The gorgeous tulip, the amaranthus and moss rose vied with each other in fragrant rivalry, and the modest little violet, claimed protection in the embraces of the myrtle. Fountains poured mimic cataracts into their marble basins, or, spouting from the mouths of sphinxes and lions, ascended in crystal streams, irrigating with copious showers the party-coloured beds beneath. The long vistas were shaded with the magnolia and flowering almond, while snow-white statues watched the beautiful picture of happiness around. Birds of variegated colour and splendid plumage were flying from tree to tree, and it appeared as if in their sweet notes, and the fragrance of the flowers, nature was offering up her incense to the Creator. I was invigorated with new life—I ran from alley to alley—delicious fruits tempted my taste—the perfumes of Arabia floated in the earthly paradise,—music floated around,—trains of beautiful girls moved in graceful ballets before me,—their slender forms were clad in snow-white robes,—their girdles gemmed with diamonds—their alabaster necks twined with wreaths of roses.—A joyous laugh burst from them, as they danced—now in circles—now advancing—now retreating. The circle opened,—a veiled figure was in the midst,—I approached—the fairies disappeared,—the veil was slowly lifted,—one moment—my Cora!—we were alone,—we wandered from bower to bower—her small white hand with electric touch, was within my delighted grasp,—her golden ringlets mingled with my raven locks—her dark eyes melted into mine. I fell upon my knee—a cold and grizzly skeleton met my embrace—the groups of houris were changed into bands of shrivelled hags;—in place of wreaths of roses, their shrivelled necks were covered with the deadly nightshade and dark mandragora—forked adders and serpents twined upon their long and bony arms,—I shuddered,—I was chained in horror to the spot,—they seized me—they dragged me downward to the dank and noisome vault.—’Twas light as day—but ’twas a strange light—a greenish haze—sickly and poisonous as if the deadly miasma of the fens had turned to flame. The dead men with burning lamps were sitting on their coffins,—their chins resting upon their drawn up knees, and as I passed along the extended rows, their eyes all turned and followed me, as the eyes of portraits from the canvass. Ha! what cadaverous unearthly stare met me at every turn;—I looked on all sides to avoid them, but still, where’er I turned, the ghastly muffled faces with their blanched lips, and deep sunken eyes livid in their sockets, surveyed me with frightful interest,—and that fierce old hag—how she preceded me—step by step—her finger pointing forward, while her Medusa head was turned