Dear Florence! young and fair thou art, Thy cheeks are like the rose’s heart— The sweet, red rose, that’s newly born, When from the faintly dappled sky, Looks out the laughing glance of morn. Alas! dear one, I can but sigh To think how many years divide Thy happy turn of life and mine! A river rolleth deep and wide Between my destined path and thine. Still unto thee my fancy flies, With thee my thoughts and visions dwell, And from thy soft, celestial eyes Comes sunshine to my hermit-cell. I love thee! nay—turn not away! I dare not hope—’twere worse than vain To cherish in my heart a ray Of feeling fraught with grief and pain. All but thy image I resign; With that I cannot part—it glows With hues so lovely, so divine. That though upon my head the snows Of Age were cast, I yet should trace The lines of thy enchanting face; Still would thy form, instinct with grace, Before me rise, and I should see, In all things bright some types of thee! * * * * * THE TWO DUKES. BY ANN S. STEPHENS. (Continued from page 144.) A still more important scene than that which we have described in Lady Jane Seymour’s chamber was passing in the Lord Protector’s closet. A portion of those noblemen forming his council had been hastily summoned to assist in the examination of Lord Dudley, who was brought up from his prison in the new and damp rooms, near the Strand, where he had spent a night of discomfort, which by no means reconciled his proud spirit to the degradation heaped upon it. Though a member, and most powerful one, of his own council, the Lord Protector had neglected to summon the Earl of Warwick to the examination of his son, and Dudley was far too anxious for a good understanding between his own father and the family of his betrothed, to solicit his interference, or even send news of his arrest to the haughty earl. He dreaded the fiery indignation with which the intelligence might be received, and even felt a sensation of relief when he found his father’s seat vacant at the tribunal before which he was so ignominiously arraigned. He was sensible that the Earl of Warwick, as well as the duke, was willing to avail himself of any excuse which might terminate the contract existing between himself and the Lady Jane. His affection for the sweet girl was both sincere and ardent, and though he felt the insult offered by her father with the irritation of a proud, sensitive spirit, he suffered still more deeply from a consciousness that she was a sharer in his trouble, and that the proceedings to which he was an unwilling party were not only a degradation to his manhood but liable to separate him from the object of his affections forever.