cloud of dust disappeared, had cast a hasty glance around, and perceived, among the groups who were felicitating each other on their escape, all but Victor! Instantly the whole party was in motion; the cloak, the hat, and some of the bridal ornaments of Victor were found, while some mangled reliques of his corpse told too soon, and too certainly, his miserable fate.

Annette, who followed as fast as her failing limbs would allow her, heard their exclamations of despair, and sank senseless upon the earth. Every effort that kindness and pity could suggest was used to recover her, but for months they could scarcely be said to restore her suspended animation; for the state of listless inanity in which she remained was much more nearly allied to death than life. At length, however, she regained the use of her corporeal powers; but, alas! her mind had wandered from it's dwelling. She would often, after remaining inactive for hours together, hurry suddenly to the Church, and there, standing before the altar, repeat that part of the Matrimonial service which is uttered by the Bride; then she would wait for a few moments silently, as if expecting to hear another voice, and at length, looking round on the empty Church, utter a dreadful groan, and hurry away. At other times she would wander through the Church-yard, count over the tombs

one by one, and read all the inscriptions, as if she was seeking one which she could not find; while it was observed that she was always more cheerful after having been employed in this manner. "He is not dead! I shall see him soon!" she would say; but as her path homewards led by the ruins of the fallen mountain, the dreadful recollection seemed to rush upon her brain, and she was often carried away from the spot as senseless as at first. The only occupation which seemed to impart any tranquillity to her mind was singing, or playing upon her lute, those little melodies which she and Victor used to chaunt together. The Song which I have translated was her especial favourite; and while singing the last verse she would look upwards, and, after she had finished it, remain silent for some time, as if she expected that the promise which it contains would be literally fulfilled, and that she should hear her lover's voice responsive to her own. In her wanderings she was continually penetrating into paths which were unknown to the Villagers generally, and some of these are now among the most beautiful spots pointed out to the curious traveller. At length she found a little Valley, composed of only one green field, and one gurgling rill which stole through it, and surrounded by picturesque rocks, which were clothed with a profusion of beautiful trees; larches,

firs, pines, and others of every imaginable form and hue. She sat down by the margin of the little stream, and sang her favourite ballad. The first two verses she warbled, or rather recited, in a low mournful tone, but when she came to the last, she raised her voice to the highest compass; and her tones, which were always beautiful, were described by those who followed her unseen, at a short distance, to be, on this occasion, of seraphic sweetness. As she elevated her voice, all the echoes with which that romantic spot abounds, were awakened; and every rock warbled, as it were, a response to her Song. Now the sound rolled over her head deep and sonorous; now it became softened and mellowed among the hills; now it returned as loudly and distinctly as at first; and at length died away in a faint and distant whisper. Annette clasped her hands in rapture; her eyes were raised to Heaven; tears, but tears of joy, stole down her cheek; her beautiful face, which sorrow, and sickness, and insanity, had robbed of many of it's charms, seemed now more beautiful than ever, and her whole form appeared animated by something which was more than earthly." "Tis he!-'tis Victor speaks !—

'Thou warblest notes from Heaven above,

To me, Love! only me!'

My Love! my life! where art thou?-I have sought thee long; my brain is strangely troubled, but now we will part no more.-I see thee beckon me!-Victor! my love!-I come!-I come!" The echoes answered "Come!-come!" Annette lifted her hands once more to Heaven; then sank upon the earth, and her Spirit fled for ever!

Since that time the spot on which she died has gone by the name of "Annette's Vale." The Villagers think it haunted, and never enter it but with uncovered head and naked feet; but more from reverence than fear, for who would fear the gentle Spirit of Annette de la Cluse? The Chamois which escapes into this place is in a sanctuary; and the flowers which grow there are never plucked but to strew upon Annette's grave; in every murmur of the wind, in every rustling of the leaves, are heard the voices of her and her lover; and, above all, the echoes among those rocks are listened to with awe, as the Songs or the conversations of Victor and Annette!

"NEW EUROPEAN MAGAZINE," 1822.

THE POET'S DREAM.

Oh! then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.-
SHAKSPEARE.

IT was in the forenoon of a sultry autumnal day, in the year 1638, that a person apparently about five and thirty years of age, handsomely, though not gorgeously clad in the costume of the country, and mounted upon a mule, was seen traversing the wild and romantic road which leads from Sienna to Rome. A slight glance at the Traveller would enable the intelligent observer to discover in him

more than marks the crowd of vulgar men." His forehead was high and pale; and his hair, of a light flaxen colour, flowed in rich ringlets over his shoulders. Although his complexion was considerably tinged by the southern suns which he had encountered in the course of his travels, it was evidently originally very fair, if not pale; and, together with the oval face and bright blue eyes, de