Published by William Pickering Chancery Lane London Aug 3.2829.

W. Ensom sc.

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

AUTOR, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.

MILTON DICTATING TO HIS DAUGHTERS.

147

The first, the fated pair-and o'er them beams
A hallowing light, for God is in their dreams.
A laugh, a horrid laugh! Hell triumphs now,
And sin's dread mark is fixed on mortal brow,
And shame weighs down the heart-a low'ring gloom
Falls on the soul in that hush'd hour of doom.
Hark! the loud trumpet!

But the trance is o'er

And that deep voice is musical no more;
Closed is his gorgeous vision, and again
His spirit seeks the haunts of earthly men.
His reverent daughters mark his changeful face,
And the last fading rays of glory trace

Left by his heavenward musings,—and once more
Milton is desolate, and blind, and poor.

W.

THE DESERTED MOURNER.

"There is a kind of mournful eloquence

In thy dumb grief, which shames all clam'rous sorrow."
LEE.

A CROWDED metropolis presents few scenes which touch the heart, or call into action either its sympathies or affections. Misfortunes which in the country need only to be seen to command our compassion and to open our purse strings, are passed unheeded by the busy throng. Whether this callousness to the calamities of our fellow creatures arises from the manner in which the mind of every one is constantly occupied, from the numerous impostors which assume the garb of wretchedness, or from these causes combined, it is not my intention to inquire; but simply to relate a circumstance which made a deep impression on my feelings.

Coming one day from a public institution, I met a young mother returning from the funeral of her child,

attended only by an old woman, who seemed to have acted as the poor infant's nurse; and preceded by an undertaker, carrying under his arm the cloth, for it could not be termed a pall, which had covered its remains. The humble appearance of the procession at once showed that it belonged to the lower orders; but the most pompous funeral never excited so much of my interest. The assumed gravity of the man was equalled only by that of the old hag, who, having fulfilled one part of her functions, was now closing them. Both wore the semblance of official sorrow, but the veil was too thin to hide the heartless apathy within they plainly evinced that they were merely performing a part in a tragedy for which they were to be paid, and they were only anxious that their deportment should be sufficiently decorous to deserve the wages of their services. But what a contrast did this form to the bereaved mother! She was not more than twenty, and though not beautiful, her face was unusually pleasing It was manifest, from her being unattended by any of her own kindred or friends, that she had borne

:

"unhusbanded a mother's name;"

and a consciousness of her situation was no less marked on her expressive countenance than grief for the loss of her child. It is true that the poor babe was the inheritor of nothing save the stain of illegiti