And in the distance to thy vision brightly Gleam happy homes beyond this land of graves, As airy domes and towers at sunset lightly Rise from Sicilian waves. When History, her task but ill-achieving, Fails some far epoch faintly to illume, Her thread the muse, like Ariadne weaving, Conducts us through the gloom. She fronts the sun—and on the purple ridges The virgin Future lifts her veil of snow— Looks westward, and an arch of splendor bridges The gulf of Long Ago. She speaks, and, lo! Italian sunlight flashes Over the dark expanse of northern skies— Death hears her thrilling cry, and cold, gray ashes Take mortal shape, and rise. When factions vex a state, and new abuses Bring to her drooping banner-fold disgrace, And Mind, forgetful of its nobler uses, Grows sensual and base— When the gray fathers of a nation falter, Muffling their faces for the funeral knell. A lightning-flash, from her poetic altar; The darkness can dispel. Then honored be the Bard!—a heavenly mansion Alone could be the birth-place of an Art That gives to deathless intellect expansion, And purifies the heart. * * * * * THE LADY OF THE ROCK. A LEGEND OF NEW ENGLAND. BY MISS M. J. WINDLE. (_Continued from page 255._) CHAPTER X. The sun was slowly sinking to the west Pavilioned with a thousand glorious dyes; The turtle-doves were winging to the nest, Along the mountain’s soft declivities. CROLEY. YOUNG STANLEY’S congratulations that he alone knew of the communication held by Lucy Ellet and her sister with the mysterious creature whom he had seen, were not destined to be of long duration. The lady of the vapor was soon beheld by various other persons of the village at different times—and the _Haunted Rock_ became an object of universal dread. The rumor, moreover, speedily grew rife that the object of her visitations was to hold unholy intercourse with the young nieces of the governor of the colony. These, therefore, from having been the idols of all classes in the place, became subjects of curiosity and vague apprehension.