Faded and gone are the ones that we cherished, Fondly and true, in our bosoms of yore! Slumbering buds may awake o’er the perished, _Their_ faded hearts shall unfold here no more! Sweet is the music that Memory flings O’er the oasis of Life’s early love, Where flew the Angel on fluttering wings, Bearing our lost through the starlight above; Oh! there’s a land where the perished ones bloom, Where cometh never a shadow of gloom! Fadeless and fair is that glorious dawn— Then we’ll not mourn for the faded and gone! Faded and gone are the sweet dreams of childhood, When the young wings of the Spirit were free, Folded or furled ’mid the shadowy wildwood— Sweeping the surface of life’s sunny sea. Time’s fading finger hath sullied the leaf, Stainless and lovely in childhood’s pure years; Pages of beauty once brilliant, yet brief, Wear its deep impress of changes and tears! Oh! but the blossoms of childhood will bloom Brightly again, o’er the shadowy Tomb! Infinite gladness flow endlessly on— Then we’ll not murmur for the faded and gone! * * * * * THE BOWER OF CASTLE MOUNT. A REMINISCENCE OF HEIDELBERG. BY AELDRIC. It was early in the June of 184-. I had been sitting in a German railroad-car since early morning, vainly trying to amuse myself in discovering a degree of singularity in some one of the many passengers that were picked up at the different stations between Kehl and Heidelberg. I had taken a seat in the third class car, expecting there to find a miscellaneous mingling of the busy classes of Germans; but, alas, for my entertainment! it was one class too high—I should have taken the fourth. After I had chosen a seat as near comfortable as the wooden benches would admit of, I perceived, to my disappointment, that I was surrounded by that class of people, neither high enough nor low enough to be interesting; every one seemed completely wrapped up in himself. There was scarcely any conversation, and each face soon settled in the repose of quiet German thoughtfulness. Meerschaums ere long made their appearance out of the depths of profound side-pockets; and, as far as dependence on my fellow-passengers was concerned, there was none, to beguile the tedium of a long journey. A long, heart-felt pull, a quiet wink of satisfaction thereat, a somewhat varied fingering of the pipe-bowl to press the ashes—that was all. Diagonally across the car and nearly facing me, sat a very pretty girl whom, from the timid wandering of her deep-blue eyes, I judged to be unmarried. I watched her some time to observe where she recognized a protector, but her eye rested nowhere particularly; it seemed uneasy, searching, and I concluded she was going but a short distance, and alone. Just as the