Yet that sad wish—oh, would it not come o’er her Knew she the heart on which she now relies? Strong it is only in beating to adore her— Faint in the moment her lov’d image flies! Why should I murmur lest she may forget me? Would I not rather be remembered not Ere have her grieve that she had ever met me? _I_ only suffer if I am forgot! _May 183-._ * * * * * [Illustration: _PAINTED BY DRUMMOND., ENGRAVED BY SARTAIN._ _The Watchers_ _Engraved Expressly for Graham’s Magazine._] * * * * * THE WATCHERS. ILLUSTRATION OF A PICTURE. Sultana! Sultana! thy watch is in vain— With the sun that is setting in gloom o’er the main The empire from Selim is passing away: Ho! up with Mustapha! Death waits on delay! The morning that broke on the spires of Salles Saw his ships ride triumphant upon the blue sea; But the foam of the waves, ere the noon, was made red With the blood of the wounded, the dying and dead. They came from the mountains, as sand on the gale That sweeps o’er Zahara, his throne to assail; The fierce Otazi and the stern Almohade Were kind, to the war-bands that follow El Said. The courser of Selim flies wild o’er the plain, His flag on the seas shall ne’er flutter again; The reign of the son of Mohammed is o’er, And thine eyes shall delight in his presence no more! Then bind up thy tresses and dash from thine eyes The tear that betokens distrust of the skies; Nor deem that around thee one spirit’s so poor As to bend to a sceptre not swayed by a Moor. Away with thy watching! the son of thy lord Of the chiefs of Morocco is monarch and ward! Give him into their hands! bid them think of his sire, And his safety, their triumph—shall crown each desire! * * * * * DE PONTIS. A TALE OF RICHELIEU. BY THE AUTHOR OF “HENRI QUATRE; OR THE DAYS OF THE LEAGUE.” CHAPTER I. Beneath the vast superstructure of the _Palais de Justice_, a pile of buildings erected under various dynasties, now appropriated to the sittings of the several justiciary courts, and situate in the most unwholesome and dirtiest quarter of the city of Paris, is a low, narrow door—it may be seen on the right-hand of the grand staircase. This is the entrance to the _Conciergerie du Palais_, a prison famous in the annals of the French monarchy.