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distinction in this mansion of shadowy honours -the melancholy reward of a monument.

9. Two small aisles on each side of this chapel present a touching instance of the equality of the grave; which brings down the oppressor to a level with the oppressed, and mingles the dust of the bitterest enemies together. In one is the sepulchre of the haughty Elizabeth; in the other is that of her victim, the lovely and unfortunate Mary.

10. A peculiar melancholy reigns over the aisle where Mary lies buried. The light struggles dimly through windows darkened by dust. The greater part of the place is in deep shadow, and the walls are stained and tinted by time and weather. A marble figure of Mary is stretched upon the tomb, round which is an iron railing, much corroded, bearing her national emblem-the thistle. weary with wandering, and sat down to rest myself by the monument, revolving in my mind the checkered and disastrous story of poor Mary.

I was

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11. The sound of casual footsteps had ceased from the abbey. I could only hear, now and then, the distant voice of the priest repeating the evening service, and the faint responses of the choir; these paused for a time, and all was hushed. The stillness, the desertion and obscurity that were gradually prevailing around, gave a deeper and more solemn interest to the place :

"For in the silent grave no conversation,
No joyful tread of friends, no voice of lovers,
No careful father's counsel-nothing's heard,
For nothing is, but all oblivion,

Dust, and an endless darkness."

12. Suddenly the notes of the deep-labouring organ burst upon the ear, falling with doubled and redoubled intensity, and rolling, as it were, huge billows of sound. How well do their volume and grandeur accord with this mighty building! With what pomp do they swell through its vast vaults, and breathe their awful harmony through these caves of death, and make the silent sepulchre vocal!

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13. And now they rise in triumphant acclamation, heaving higher and higher their accordant 10 notes, and piling sound on sound. -And now they pause, and the soft voices of the choir break out into sweet gushes of melody; they soar aloft, and warble along the roof, and seem to play about these lofty vaults like the pure airs of heaven.

14. Again the pealing organ heaves its thrilling thunders, compressing air into music, and rolling it forth upon the soul. What longdrawn cadences! What solemn sweeping concords! It grows more and more dense and powerful-it fills the vast pile, and seems to jar the very walls-the ear is stunned-the senses are overwhelmed. And now it is winding up in full jubilee-it is rising from the earth to heaven-the very soul seems rapt away and floated upwards on this swelling tide of harmony!

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A MAIDEN gentle, yet, at duty's call,
Firm and unflinching as the Lighthouse reared
On the Island-rock,2 her lonely dwelling-place;
Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves,
Age after age, the hostile elements,

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As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.

All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused,

When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty

air,

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Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf,

Beating on one of those disastrous isles;-
Half of a Vessel, half-no more; the rest
Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there
Had for the common safety striven in vain,
Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick
glance

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Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern, 15 Clinging about the remnant of this Ship, Creatures-how precious in the Maiden's sight!

For whom, belike," the old man grieves still

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"Together they put forth, father and child!"

Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed
Where every parting agony is hushed,

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And hope and fear mix not in further strife.
"But courage, Father! let us out to sea-
A few may yet be saved." The Daughter's
words,

Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith,
Dispel the Father's doubts: nor do they lack 25
The noble-minded Mother's helping hand
To launch the boat; and with her blessing
cheered,

And inwardly sustained by silent prayer,
Together they put forth, Father and Child!
Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go 30
Rivals in effort; and, alike intent

Here to elude and there surmount, they watch
The billows lengthening, mutually crossed
And shattered, and re-gathering their might;
As if the tumult, by the Almighty's will,
Were, in the conscious sea, roused and prolonged,
That woman's fortitude-so tried, so proved-
May brighten more and more!

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True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, 4° Their arms still strengthening with the strength

ening heart,

Though danger, as the Wreck is neared, be

comes

More imminent.-Not unseen do they approach; And rapture, with varieties of fear

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Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames
Of those who, in that dauntless energy,
Foretaste deliverance. But the least perturbed 10

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