But hark!  I hear the boding owl,
     With fearful screams at distance cry;
  The evening breezes mournful howl,
     And bats their nightly circles ply.

  Thick, sombre clouds obscur’d the sky,
     And hid the moon’s refulgent light—­
  No sparkling star shed cheerful ray. 
     To light the lonely shades of night.

  I grop’d my way with careful tread,
     To shun the cold, unconscious urn,
  And left the mansions of the dead,
     Where soon or late I must return.

  For I must sleep with ages past,
     And ages yet to come,
  Till the last trump of God shall wake
     Each tenant of the tomb.

A Scene on the Kennebec River.

It was a beautiful morning in early June, and nature was dressed in her beautiful robes of pale green, as the leaves had not yet assumed that deeper hue that the mature rays of a summer sun impart to them.  No cloud floated over the blue vault of heaven.  The golden sun diffused a radiant light, and shed a sparkling lustre upon the deep, black water of the mighty river, that rolled on in gentle undulating waves, as it was tossed lightly by the sighing breeze that floated over its surface.

Far as the eye could scan were seen the snowy sails, as the mariners pursued their way over the black bosom of the waters to enter the briny Atlantic, that received the waters of the rolling river and mingled them with its own foaming wave.  The smaller sail boats were flying before the wind, while innumerable ships lay at rest in the harbor, with snowy sails unfurled, while the rough cry of the sailors broke boisterously upon the morning air.

At the wharf, before the flourishing village that lay reposing on the banks of the river, lay a ferry-boat, impatient to launch away upon the restless waters.

There was hurry and bustle as the time for the boat’s departure had arrive, and many wished to be borne to the opposite shore.

Among the rest came a gay group of laughing school girls.  Their joyous faces were lit up with bright smiles, and they were chatting gaily of the afternoon’s party, and the anticipated evening’s walk, heedless of the care worn man of business that shuffled in by their side, or prudent ladies who looked upon the gay party as pert or presuming.  They were, many of them, the children of wealth, and waved in their hands rich boquets of beautiful and rare exotics, while others were equally satisfied with more simple flowers.  They advanced to the head of the boat, and stood with their hands placed upon its edge, looking over into the deep waters.  One beautiful form attracted the attention of all who looked upon her.  Her form was slight and delicate.  Her complexion was transparent, but a slight tinge of pink rested upon her cheek.  Her azure eyes beamed with a sweet expression from their soul-lit depths, while her dark brown hair floated in heavy masses of glossy