Alas! that star-light should fade from the sky!
Alas for the parting that draweth so nigh!
Glide slowly—ye ripples—flow softly, oh tide!
For the silence of death, must the living divide.
MEMORIES.
Again, but alone, I am out on the sea—
I come, where so often I floated with thee;
I list for the tones of thy low evening hymn—
But the breeze hath a moan—and the starlight is dim.
I think of thee here, of thy deep mournful eyes,
That spoke to my own in mute, thrilling replies;
Of thy gentle caress, and thy cold brow, so pale,
When I pressed that last kiss—but I utter no wail!
I garner in silence the memories of years,
With yearnings too tender, too hopeless for tears;
For down 'neath the stillness and hush of its waves,
The tide of my life, like the sea, hath its graves!
[THE DUTCH GOVERNORS OF NEW AMSTERDAM.]
COMMUNICATED TO THE INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE
BY JOHN ROMEYN BRODHEAD.[2]
In the year 1649, there appeared in Holland a small anonymous pamphlet of forty-two pages, bearing the imprint of Antwerp, and entitled Breeden Raedt, aen de Vereenighde Nederlandeche Provintien, or Plain Counsels to the United Netherlands' Provinces. It is very rare; the only copy I know of, in this country, is the one with which I have been kindly furnished by my friend Mr. Campbell, the Deputy Librarian at the Hague.