When the fairies from the Southland Bring from far the meek-eyed flowers— Undine trippeth o’er the waters, In the rosy June-day hours— As I watch her mellow glances Lighting up the fitful stream, I shall tell _her_ all the haloes Of a youthful poet’s dream; And I’ll gather on the lea-land, By the hill-side, in the grove, Gems she’ll prize far more than jewels, The bright flowers which I love, With the dew-drops heavy-laden, Sparkling in the red dawn light, As the molten glory beameth O’er the ebon wand of night. Oh, my heart throbs wildly ever, In its loneliness and wo, And I long me for the summer, When the Southland breezes blow; Gladly, quickly, then I’ll hasten, In the bright mid-summer day, To my love-light Northland sister, In my childhood’s home away. * * * * * =BLIND ROSA.= =BY HENRIK CONSCIENCE. TRANSLATED BY MARY HOWITT.= On a splendid summer day in 1846, the diligence was rolling along the great highway from Antwerp to Turnhout at the regular hour. The horses trotted, the wheels rattled, the carriage creaked, the driver clucked incessantly with his tongue in order to quicken the speed of his cattle, dogs barked in the distance, birds soared up from the fields high into the air, the shadow sped alongside of the diligence, and danced along with its peculiar motion amongst the trees and bushes. Suddenly the conductor pulled up not far from a solitary inn. He leaped down from his seat, opened the door of the diligence without saying a word, slapped down the step, and put out his hand to a traveler, who, with a knapsack in his hand, descended to the road. In the same silence the conductor again put up the step, closed the door, sprung again into his seat, and whistled gently to intimate to the horses that they must move. The horses trotted on; the heavy vehicle pursued its monotonous career.