“But we were severed, from terrestrial bowers The angels called me early; yet was mine The sweetest task, to watch thy path of flowers, And yield thee visions of a land divine; And even the veil that hid my form from thee Oped the sealed fountains of thy heart to me. “I have been with thee still—at eventide Fanning thy temples till thy soul was free, While the clay slept, to wander at my side; And to its bonds at dawn restoring thee, A child of earth, till, for a holier shrine, Thy wings at length are fledged, and thou art mine.” Thus spake the spirit, and the veil of light, That round him hung, o’er Eva’s form was cast: The bark that bore her, ne’er to mortal sight Came up the stream from whence its keel had passed. They watched her from the shore-girt river glide, And float far westward o’er the boundless tide: And where the wave is mingled with the sky, In the bright pathway of the dying day, ’Mid clouds too luminous for human eye, She seemed to vanish on her airy way; While earth’s fair flowers, and ocean’s pearly shell, Breathed a low answer to some fond farewell. * * * * * THE ISLETS OF THE GULF; OR, ROSE BUDD. Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but Travelers must be content. As You Like It. BY THE AUTHOR OF “PILOT,” “RED ROVER,” “TWO ADMIRALS,” “WING-AND-WING,” “MILES WALLINGFORD,” &c. [Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Northern District of New York.] (_Continued from page 48._) PART X. _Shallow._ Did her grand sire leave her seven hundred pound? _Evans._ Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny. _Shallow._ I know the young gentlewoman; she has good gifts. _Evans._ Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts. Shakspeare.