The hostelle and its sign lasted longer than the worthy
gentleman, and having gone shockingly to decay, was many years after
re-established. But alas! the numerous French words once mixed with our
language had vanished, barbarized, and ground down into a heterogeneous
mass of sounds; and _le Caton fidelle_ was no longer known to his best
friends when resuscitated under the anomalous title of the Cat and
Fiddle!!
XX.
* * * * *
THE BLIND GIRL.
_(For the Mirror.)_
As fair a thing as e'er was form'd of clay.
BYRON.
Sweet wanderer--we have known her long!
And often on our ear,
Has gush'd the cadence of her song,
As if some stream were near.
Her path was through our tranquil dell,
When breezes kiss'd the curfew bell.
We gaz'd upon the golden hair,
That o'er her white brow shone,
And beauty's tinge had cluster'd there,
A grace unlike its own.
We call'd it beautiful--that brow!
But rayless were the eyes below.
Those pale dim eyes, we would have given
Our flowers to see them glow--
They slept, as sleeps the summer heaven,
When the sun waxeth low:
And soft her glossy lashes were,
As stars within the crystal air.
Oh, call her not a phantom form,
Of deep sepulchral spells;
Her maiden lips with life are warm,
And thought within her dwells--
Thought, holy as the light that lies
In the rapt martyr's lifted eyes.
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