"Adored Zorilda! thy Lionel is here, and Clara is at this moment seeking her best beloved friend at Drumcairn. Oh speak! Raise those precious eye-lids, and look on one who is devoted to thee! Speak, oh say but one word, and relieve this agony of dread!"
She heard not; saw not; felt not. She had fallen asleep to wake no more, and at her feet the pencil lay, with which she had just traced an urn, veiled in clouds, through which the name of Zorilda was faintly discernible, and on its pedestal were engraved the words,
"Who was she?"
"What is she?"
THE YOUNG REFORMERS.
"Boys immature in knowledge
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
And so rebel to judgment."Shakspeare.