The other pale and lovely as the moon Matchless alike in grace and symmetry. They seated them upon a knoll, whose feet The valley guarded by tall hills of blue, At length Mirth spoke, upon whose brow the crown "Unhappy dreamer," Melancholy said. Teach us devotion holy, calm, and pure, "I do not dream," said Mirth-"O that I could! "I often leave a gay and lighted hall Play sad disasters with their willing sire. "Then on long summer nights, when sleeps the world, And Heaven has crown'd with stars departed day, Near to some maiden's shady bower I roam, Where flitting moonbeams through the branches play. If on her bosom pensive thoughts do dwell, And long past pleasures to her memory cling, Love-songs like this to free her heart from care, Beneath her casement I make bold to sing """Tis good to be loving, come forth, come forth, Looks glorious, flooded with silver sheen. ""Tis good to be loving, come forth, come forth, Then Melancholy said, "Who talks of love He who so blindly can be led will find Tears fill the place where smiles were wont before. A sunbeam playing on the earth an hour, Just then a band of laughing reapers came, And echo answered to their tuneful roar. "Go, then," said Melancholy, pensively and sad, While Mirth, half feeling that the words were true, Paused in his merriment with comic grace, And spoke, as awkwardly he waived adieu,— "Without me what would be this harvest home? I saw him join them, and I heard the shout A dozen girls flew to their prize at once, And bore him laughing in their arms away. How long he tarried, needs not to be told, Nor will I trace the frolics of that night, For set the sun, and evening came apace, And closed the busy revel from my sight. W. B. A. As if to make amends for the misery we had suffered over night, the sun rose in all his splendour on the following day, and truly glad was I in seizing the first opportunity that day-light afforded for quitting my restless couch, where, in spite of all fatigue, I found it utterly impossible to obtain sleep. By what means I was effectually kept awake I leave to the suggestion of my readers, and those to whom a Spanish Venta may be familiar will not fail in speedily arriving at a correct conclusion. Bright as the morning was, we were destined to undergo disappointment, for scarcely had the greater portion of the party arrived at the Venta de los Domajos than the rain descended in torrents. After a miserable and thoroughly wet drive we at length drew near the town of Loxa, and slightly prepossessing as was its appearance, when viewed amid a heavy fall of rain, there was not one among the party who did not joyfully hail the spot destined for our shelter and repose. A good dinner will effect wonders, not only by invigorating the frame, but also in adding fresh force and animation to the mind; and if a man harbours within his bosom the least tendency towards communion with his fellow-mortals, it is at that period he will cast aside the accustomed reserve of his nature, and launch forth into friendly converse, with an opennesss and zest foreign to his more cautious hours. It was under some such inspiring influence that our party gaily laughed on recurring to the miseries they had suffered, yet, although they made light of the difficulties surmounted, not an individual present expressed the least anxiety for a second encounter, and to obviate so dreaded an annoyance it was unanimously agreed that the whole cavalcade should remain where it then was, be the period ever so protracted, until the weather promised a more agreeable journey. That point settled, the next question was, in what way the time could be passed, and as the ladies declared seeing sights in the rain at Loxa was quite a different affair to prosecuting our journey in the wet towards Granada, it was impossible to overrule so convincing an assertion, and a guide for the following morning was accordingly engaged in our service. There were few objects worthy of visitation that escaped our prying scrutiny next day, and so determined were we to behold all that could be shewn, that, ere noon arrived, our guide was sadly at a loss where to turn for further novelties, in order to appease what he justly regarded as the most extraordinary mania for sight-seeing that ever afflicted those whom it had been his fortune to escort. "Mateo!" exclaimed one of our party, after a long ramble, "Mateo, what are you to shew us now? for my part I am completely tired; and though we have walked all day, nothing have I seen in any degree sufficient as re-payment for such exertion,-where are you taking us now, Mateo ?" "Wherever you please, Senor," replied the obsequious cicerone, "I will show you whatever you please." "But what else is there to see;" exclaimed another of the group, "you have promised most liberally I allow, but how have you redeemed your word? Badly to-day, Mateo," he continued, laughing, "come confess that nothing remains to be shewn, and you will save your conscience the weight of telling an untruth, and relieve us from much additional fatigue,-come, Mateo, confess." "Ah! Senors," replied the cunning Spaniard, "you are so impatient you will not give me time; how can I show everything in a moment? Impossible! there is much yet to be seen, I can assure you," and here the poor guide, unwilling to lose such good customers, cast his eyes around, as if hoping that some extraordinary phenomena might arise to justify his assertion. "I can confidently assure you, Senors," he continued, "there is much more to excite your astonishment yet; and now I think of it," he added, his countenance brightening as some lucky thought crossed his prolific brain, "now I think of it, Senors, you have never visited the Church of Saint Juan-a splendid |