"But life had gone out. Not, however, till the loss of blood had so relieved the agonizing pressure on the brain, that reason had evidently returned—for she opened her eyes, with a sweet, sad smile, looked at us all—saw every thing—knew every thing that had passed. She raised her hand to her neck, and then pointed upward, and breathing more and more softly, like the dead child who had gone before her, in its baptism of blood, she slept in peace.
"I thought of all that had passed in the hearts of the two young persons for whom life had so early closed. They had suffered much, but I did not see how any good could occur to the dead or the living by further communication. If Mary had desired it, there had been opportunity enough. She might have left the letters for her husband to read. On the contrary, she had burned them immediately after I had left the room. Her woman had brought her a lamp, and she saw her setting fire to letters—and, in fact, the relics of them were still in the chimney.
"I therefore said no more to Mr. Gardner. He had been much shocked with the events of the day, and for some time was depressed. But he recovered the tone of his mind, and to this day, I suppose, has very little comprehension of what was about him and around him for years—of the broken-heart that was so long breaking."
THE PROPHET'S REBUKE
BY MRS. JULIET H. L. CAMPBELL.
In a cedar-ceiled palace, the proud arches rolled,
O'erlaid with vermilion, and blazoned with gold,
While their graceful supporters in colonnade stood,
Like the children of giants, a grand brotherhood:
Around them the lily and pomegranate wreath,
In delicate tracery, while far beneath
The siren-voiced fountains beguile the long day,
And the tessalate pavement is gemmed with their spray.
The East from her treasury joyeth to bring
Her magnificent gifts to a world-renowned king;
Her birds, like to meteors, as brilliant and fleet,
And her rainbow-hued flowers are laid at his feet,
While he, in regality's power and pride,
Sits enthroned with the symbol of pomp by his side.
The beauty is glorious that beams in his face,
His mien is majestic, his movement is grace!
Before him a prophet, with hair long and white
Falling down o'er a mantle as sable as night,
With a glance of stern loftiness, cheek cold and pale,
And a gesture of earnestness, thus told his tale.