than face of earth;

What was the thing to liken it to?

A lily just dipped in the summer dew?

Parian marble—snow's first fall?

Her brow was fairer than each,—than all.

And so delicate was each vein's soft blue,

'Twas not like blood that wandered through.

Rarely upon that cheek was shed,

By health or by youth, one tinge of red,

And never closest look could descry,

In shine or shade, the hue of her eye,

But, as it were made of light, it changed

With every sunbeam that over it ranged."

 

 The midnight stars were over all the heaven, O, wildly, wildly bright! Orion, like a flaming monarch, led up "the host of palpitating stars" to their proud zenith, while, far in the boreal regions, danced strange, atmospheric lights, with flitting, fantastic motions and ever-changing forms and colors. A young girl stood in the deep recess of a large window, with the rich, blue-wrought damask curtains wrapped closely about her slight, fragile form, gazing intently on the splendors of the midnight heaven. Long she stood there, and no sound broke the stillness, save now and then a half-audible sigh. At length she said, "I cannot endure this solitude and the depression which is stealing over me. Would that I had a mother to love and bless me! Father is often so strange and silent, and Rufus cannot sympathize with my feelings. I must call Sylva to bear me company, for one of my nervous attacks is upon me, and I cannot sleep." Softly opening a side-door, she said, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, "Sylva, are you awake?" 

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