Come then, Death, from the dark-brown shades Where thou hast lingered long; Come to the haunts where sins abound And troubles thickly throng, And lay thy bridal kiss on the lips Of a child of sorrow and song. For I can gaze with a rapture deep Upon thy lovely face; Many a smile I find therein, Where another a frown would trace-- As a lover would clasp his new-made bride I will take thee to my embrace. Come, oh, come! I long for thy look; I weary to win thy kiss-- Bear me away from a world of wo To a world of quiet bliss-- For in that I may kneel to God alone, Which I may not do in this. For woman and wealth they woo pursuit, And a winning voice has fame; Men labor for love and work for wealth And struggle to gain a name; Yet find but fickleness, need and scorn, If not the brand of shame. Then carry me hence, sweet Death--_my_ Death! Must I woo thee still in vain? Come at the morn or come at the eve, Or come in the sun or rain; But come--oh, come! for the loss of life To me is the chiefest gain. GOLD. BY R. H. STODDARD. Alas! my heart is sick when I behold The deep engrossing interest of wealth, How eagerly men sacrifice their health, Love, honor, fame and truth for sordid gold; Dealing in sin, and wrong, and tears, and strife, Their only aim and business in life To gain and heap together shining store;-- Alchemists, mad as e'er were those of yore. Transmuting every thing to glittering dross, Wasting their energies o'er magic scrolls, Day-books and ledgers leaden, gain and loss-- Casting the holiest feelings of their souls High hopes, and aspirations, and desires, Beneath their crucibles to feed th' accursed fires! FIEL A LA MUERTE, OR TRUE LOVE'S DEVOTION. A TALE OF THE TIMES OF LOUIS QUINZE. BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMAN TRAITOR," "MARMADUKE WYVIL," "CROMWELL," ETC. There was a mighty stir in the streets of Paris, as Paris' streets were in the olden time. A dense and eager mob had taken possession, at an early hour of the day, of all the environs of the Bastile, and lined the way which led thence to the Place de Greve in solid and almost impenetrable masses. People of all conditions were there, except the very highest; but the great majority of the concourse was composed of the low populace, and the smaller bourgeoisie. Multitudes of women were there, too, from the girl of sixteen to the beldam of sixty, nor had mothers been ashamed to bring their infants in their arms into that loud and tumultuous assemblage. Loud it was and tumultuous, as all great multitudes are, unless they are convened by purposes too resolutely dark and solemn to find any vent in noise. When that is the case, let rulers beware, for peril is at hand--perhaps the beginning of the end.