As the blest hills of Neversink withdraw Their misty guardianship? Speech may not tell— For well I know its poverty to paint The rapture, when the homeward glance descries, That native land, whose countless novelties, And forms of unimagined life, eclipse The worn-out wonders of an Older World, That, with its ghostly finger, only points To things that were. Oh! great and solemn Deep, Profound magician of the musing thought, Release my strain, that to the beauteous Isle Which hath so long enchained me, thanks may flow, Warm, though inadequate. The changeful hand Of Autumn sheds o’er forest, copse, and grove, In gorgeous hues, the symbol of decay; But here and there some fondly lingering flower, Sweet resonance of Summer, cheers the rocks Where warm suns latest smile. Oh, fairest Isle! I grieve to say farewell. Still for the sake Of those I love, and for the memories dear, And sacred hospitalities that cling Around the mansion, whence my steps depart, Peace be within the palace-domes that crest Thy sea-girt hills, and ’neath the cottage roofs That nestle ’mid thy dells. For when I dream Of some blest Eden that survived the fall, That dream shall be of thee. * * * * * EVENING. Shades of Evening! ye remind me Of my own declining sun, And of scenes I’ll leave behind me When my sands of life are run! Should that change come ere to-morrow, Grant that I may sink to rest, And from Virtue’s glory borrow Hues to make my Evening blest. J. HUNT, JR. * * * * * WOODLAWN: OR THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MEDAL. BY F. E. F., AUTHOR OF A “MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE,” ETC. ’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view. Campbell. “What are you thinking of so intently, Annie?” asked Kate Leslie, of her cousin. “You have not spoken for the last half hour.” Annie roused herself and answered with a smile, “Only of last night’s Opera. Nothing very important, you see.” “And what of the Opera?” pursued Kate. “Come, I should like to hear a genuine, unsophisticated opinion of our most fashionable city amusement.” “I was thinking less of the music, Kate!” returned Annie, “than of the audience.” “And of the audience?” persisted Kate.