But hark! her sentry's passionate words,

The sound of shields, and the clash of swords!

And slow she comes with her head on her breast,

And her two hands held as to plead for rest.

Where, O where, are the Juno graces ?

Where, O where, is the glance of Jove,

When the Queen comes forth from the sacred places,
Hidden away in the heart of the grove?

They rallied around as of old-they besought her,
With swords to the sun and the sounding shield,
To lead them again to the glorious field,

So sacred to Freedom; and, breathless, they brought her

Her buckler and sword, and her armour all bright
With a thousand gems enjewelled in gold.
She lifted her head with the look of old,
For an instant only; with all of her might

She strove to be strong and majestic again :
She bared them her arms and her ample breast,
They lifted her armour, they strove their best
To clasp it about her; but they strove in vain.

It closed no more, but clanged on the ground,
Like the fall of a king, with an ominous sound,
And she cried, "Alas!"—and she smote her breast-
"For the nights of love and the noons of rest."

And her warriors wondered; but they stood apart,
And trailed their swords, and subdued their eyes
To earth in sorrow and in hushed surprise,

And forgot themselves in their pity of heart.

"O Isles of the Sun," cried the blue-eyed youth,

"O Edens new-made and let down from above! Be sacred to peace and to passionate love, Made happy in tears and made holy with truth.

66

'O gardens of God, new-planted below!

Shall rivers be red? Shall day be night?" And he stood in the wood with his face to the foe, And apart with his buckler and sword for the fight.

But the fair Isle filled with the fierce invader;

He formed on the strand, he lifted his spears, Where never was man for years and for years, And moved on the Queen. She lifted and laid her

Finger-tip to her lips. And O sweet

Was the song of love, and the song new-born, That the minstrel blew in the virgin morn, Away where the trees and the soft sands meet.

The strong men leaned and their shields let fall, And slowly they moved with their trailing spears, And heads bowed down as if bent with years, And an air of gentleness over them all.

And the men grew glad as the song ascended,

They leaned their lances against the palms,

And they reached their arms as to reach for alms, And the Amazons came-and their reign was ended.

They reached their arms to the arms extended,

Put by their swords, and no more seemed sad, But moved as the men moved, tall and splendidMingled together, and were all made glad.

Then the Queen stood tall, as of old she had stood, With her face to the sun and her breast to the foe; Then moved like a king, unheeding and slow,

And aside to the singer in the fringe of the wood.

She led him forth, and she bade him sing:

Then bade him cease; and the gold of his hair

She touched with her hands; she embraced him there, Then lifted her voice and proclaimed him King.

And the men made fair in their new-found loves,
They all cried "King!" and again and again,
Cried "Long may they live, and long may they reign,
And be true to their loves as the red-billed doves :

"Ay, long may they live, and long may they love,
And their blue-eyed babes with the years increase,
And we all have love, and we all have peace,
While the seas are below or the sun is above.

"Let the winds blow fair and the fruits be gold,

And the gods be gracious to King and Queen, While the tides are gray or the Isles are green, Or the moons wax new, or the moons wane old!"

FINIS.

LEAVES FROM A LOST DIARY.

BY M. BETHAM-EDWARDS, AUTHOR OF "KITTY," " DR. JACOB," &c.

June 15th, Morning.

my

T is hardly light, and yet I am up and dressed, counting with anxious heart the hours that must elapse before husband's return. All night long I lay awake, trying to see some way of escape out of the misery and shame before me; but could discover none. Before nightfall he will be here, and will have learned all from my own lips. As I look at myself in the glass I start back, horrified at the ghost of the once happy creature I used to see there. Will Harry recognise in this woe-begone, hollow-eyed spectre the young wife he left a few months ago? Were my hair only grey I should look quite old.

How shall I tell him? In the first hour of his home-coming, or a little later, when we sit before the fire in the twilight? Will he send me away from him, and bid me never cross his path again? Will he let me stay in his home still, his wife in name, in all else his burden, his curse, his enemy? I do not know; I have never yet seen my husband angry.

As I look back I can recall the beginning of temptation. We had been married only a few months when we went to London, and Harry introduced me to his friends and relations. He was not rich, and in marrying a country vicar's daughter without a penny had affronted his own family, who had hitherto boasted of having no poor relations belonging to them. I was now that poor relation. "Put on all your finery," he said to me a day or two before my introduction was to take place; "my cousin John's wife is a grand personage, and I do not wish her to say that I have married a dowdy." I ransacked my poor little wardrobe with dismay. What else could I be but a dowdy? I cried with vexation as I saw how poor a figure I should make at Lady Mary's in my cheap silk dress and coral ornaments. No; to go in such attire was impossible. I sat on my trunk, debating in my mind which of two things was best to do-to go sullenly to Harry and say that unless he could give me some money for a new dress I must stay at home, or, what was much easier, to procure a dress and jewels without saying anything about the

matter, and to pay for them by quarterly instalments of my allowance. Surely there would be nothing wrong in that! When Harry promised to give me fifty pounds a year he made no bargain as to the manner of spending it. I put on my bonnet and shawl and went straight to a jeweller's shop, whither Harry had taken me to choose my betrothal ring. The man recognised me, and when I asked, blushing and hesitating, if I might pay for the things I wished to buy in a short time hence, he assured me nothing would be more agreeable to him. I was persuaded to take away what seemed, amidst the splendour before me, a very modest set of pearl and ruby ornaments; then I went to a milliner and ordered a white satin dress, returning home intoxicated with the foretaste of my triumphs. All that Harry said on seeing me ready dressed to go with him was, "So; you have got some new clothes-and they well become you! But you must make your allowance do, my poor little girl, and not get into trouble." I suppose the bare suspicion of debt just occurred to him. This was the beginning of harm. My first appearance was successful, and Harry came away better pleased with me than ever.

"It is highly desirable that you impress my relations favourably," he said, as we drove home. "They are all rich, and half of them are childless"—and then he stopped, as if shocked at his own suggestion. It was a worldly thought, but I could not help dwelling upon it; and the more I saw of the luxurious world outside our own, the more discontented I felt. Bouquets, flowers, jewels, and perfumes never tired me. I looked upon our little home as a prison-house; and Harry, who had the reputation of being a wit, liked society for different reasons, and was welcome wherever he went. Thus we soon saw ourselves dragged into a round of dinners, soirées, and balls.

I suppose jewels excite the same passion in women as cards and wine do in men. I know that from the first time of procuring those fatal ornaments I felt an insatiable craving for others. Two or three gifts from my husband's aunts, mostly antiquated ear-rings and brooches, did not satisfy me. I wanted something more in keeping with my youth, that youth of which I had heard nothing in my country home, but which was always being praised now; to have smooth cheeks, red lips and dimples, seemed a virtue among my husband's relations, and to compensate in some degree for my sinful poverty; they petted me and flattered me- especially the men till I took great credit to myself for being pretty, and thought it only right that I should do justice to such good qualities. Thus