THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER.

The first from her face the shroud-veil took, And gazed upon her-a mournful look.

"Ah! wert thou but living, thou lovely maid, I would love thee from this time," he said.

The second covered the altered face,
And turned him, weeping, from the place:

That thou should'st lie on the funeral bier, Whom I have loved this many a year!"

FLORENCE VANE.

But the last still snatched away the veil,
And kissed her on the mouth so pale:

"I loved thee ever-still I love thee,
Thee will I love through eternity!"

JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND. (German.)

Translation of C. G. LELAND and J. W. PALMER.

FLORENCE VANE.

I LOVED thee long and dearly,
Florence Vane;

My life's bright dream and early
Hath come again;

I renew, in my fond vision,

My heart's dear pain:
My hopes, and thy derision,
Florence Vane!

The ruin, lone and hoary,

The ruin old,

Where thou didst hark my story,

At even told :

That spot, the hues Elysian

Of sky and plain,

I treasure in my vision,

Florence Vane!

I loved the long and clearly.

Florence Vane;

life's bright dream, and Early,
Hath come

again;

My

That spot - the hues Elysian

Of sky and plain

in

I Treasure in my

Horence Vane.

vision,

Philip Pendleton Cooke.

FLORENCE VANE.

Thou wast lovelier than the roses
In their prime;

Thy voice excelled the closes

Of sweetest rhyme;

Thy heart was as a river

Without a main.

Would I had loved thee never,
Florence Vane!

But fairest, coldest wonder!
Thy glorious clay

Lieth the green sod under:
Alas the day!

And it boots not to remember
Thy disdain,

To quicken love's pale ember,
Florence Vane!

The lilies of the valley

By young graves weep;

The daisies love to dally

Where maidens sleep.

May their bloom, in beauty vying,

Never wane

Where thine earthly part is lying,

Florence Vane!

PHILIP PENDLETON COOKE

ALL day long till the west was red.

Over and under the white-flecked blue : "Now lay her into the wind," he said; And south the harbor drew.

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