"Well, little Duchess," he said, softly, as she stopped and faltered; a slow smile crept over his face, and his deep-set eyes lighted up with tenderness. Not worthy, his little Duchess! Then the crimson rushed into her face, and she flung up her head defiantly. "I married the new shop-walker, four months ago!" _AUSTRALIA'S SPRINGTIME._ 'Tis a bright September morning, and Australia's golden Spring Is awak'ning every flow'ret, and retouching every wing; Everywhere the yellow blossoms of the wattle are in view-- Even has the solemn gum tree taken on a lighter hue; And the earth is cover'd over with a vest of fresher green, And the clear cool air adds brightness to the beauty of the scene. Now the cockatoo's hoarse screaming, and the magpie's cheery call Sound in chorus to the music of the plashy waterfall. Overhead the deep, clear azure is just fleck'd with snowy clouds, And the green and crimson parrots fly around in chatt'ring crowds; Far away is all the bustle of the smoky, restless town, And the timid kangaroo upon the grass lies fearless down; Nature calmly lieth waiting, in her peaceful solitude, For the dawning of the morning bright with hopes of future good: Lies as she has lain for ages, by the white man's foot untrod, Like a glorious new creation, freshly from the hand of God. 'Tis Australia's golden Springtime, and the vision, fresh and green, Of the lonely, peaceful country, is a swiftly changing scene; First a few white tents embosom'd 'mid the thickly growing trees, And the sound of human labour floating on the passing breeze. First a village--then a city--with an everswelling tide Passing thro' its busy markets--stretching outwards far and wide; And while the growing nation overspreads the smiling land, Nature opens up her treasures with a free and lavish hand: O'er the verdant fields are roaming flocks and herds of sheep and kine-- Deep beneath the sunlit surface works the toiler in the mine-- Education and religion build their temples o'er the plain, And the iron horse moves swiftly past broad fields of golden grain, Where a plenteous harvest ripens to reward the toiler's care, And each honest, willing worker may obtain a rightful share. Blessed peace and glorious freedom banish far the warrior's sword-- Fancy seems to gaze enraptur'd on a Paradise restored!