Said with voice that did not tremble, "I will follow you, my husband!"

In the wigwam with Nokomis,

With those gloomy guests, that watch'd her With the Famine and the Fever,

She was lying, the Belk ved,

She the dying Minnehaha.

Hark!" she said, " I hear a rushing,

Hear a roaring and a rushing,

Hear the Falls of Minnehaha

Calling to me from a distance !"
"No, my child!" said old Nokomis,
"'Tis the night-wind in the pine-trees!"
“Look!” she said; “I see my father
Standing lonely at his doorway,
Beckoning to me from his wigwam
In the land of the Dacotahs!"

"No, my child!" said old Nokomis,

""Tis the smoke that waves and beckons !"

“Ah!” she said, "the eyes of Pauguk

Glare upon me in the darkness,

I can feel his icy fingers

Clasping mine amid the darkness!

Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

And the desolate Hiawatha,

Far away amid the forest,

Miles away among the mountains,
Heard that sudden cry of anguish,

Heard the voice of Minnehaha

Calling to him in the darkness,

Over snow-fields waste and pathless,
Under snow-encumber'd branches,
Homeward hurried Hiawatha,

Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing
"Wahonowin! Wahonowin!
Would that I had perish'd for you,
Would that I were dead as you are!
Wahonowin! Wahonowin!"

And he rush'd into the wigwam,
Saw the old Nokomis slowly
Rocking to and fro and moaning,
Saw his lovely Minnehaha
Lying dead and cold before him,
And his bursting heart within him
Utter'd such a cry of anguish,

That the forest moan'd and shudder'd,

That the very stars in heaven

Shook and trembled with his anguish.

Then he sat down still and speechless
On the bed of Minnehaha,

At the feet of Laughing Water,
At those willing feet, that never
More would lightly run to meet him,
Never more would lightly follow.
With both hands his face he cover'd.
Seven long days and nigh's he sat there
As if in a swoon he sat there,
Speechless, motionless, unconscious
Of the daylight or the darkness.

Then they buried Minnehaha ;
In the snow a grave they made her,
In the forest deep and darksome,
Underneath the moaning heinlocks;
Clothed her in her richest garments;
Wrapp'd her in her robes of ermine,
Cover'd her with snow, like ermine:
Thus they buried Minnehaha.

And at night a fire was lighted,

On ner grave four times was kindled,
For her soul upon its journey

To the Islands of the Blessed.
From his doorway Hiawatha
Saw it burning in the forest,
Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks,
From his sleepless bed uprising,
From the bed of Minnehaha,
Stood and watch'd it at the doorway
That it might not be extinguish'd,
Might not leave her in the darkness.

"Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha !
Farewell, O my Laughing Water!
All my heart is buried with you,
All my thoughts go onward with you!
Come not back again to labor,
Come not back again to suffer,
Where the Famine and the Fever
Wear the heart and waste the body.
Soon my task will be completed,
Soon your footsteps I shall follow
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the Kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter !"

THE CLOWN'S REHEARSAL.-Part I.

"Midsummer Night's Dream."

[Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.}

QUIN. Is all our company here?

BOT. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.

QUIN. Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our inter. de before the Duke and Duchess, on his wedding-day at night.

BOT. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point.

QUIN. Marry, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe.

BOT. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll: masters, spread yourselves.

QUIN. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the

weaver.

BOT. Ready: name what part I am for, and proceed. QUIN. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. BOT. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant?

QUIN. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.

BOT. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it if I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms; I will condole in some measure. To the rest :-Yet my chief humor is for a tyrant! I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.

“The raging rocks,

With shivering shocks,
Shall break the locks

Of prison gates;

And Phibbus' car

Shall shine from far,

And make and mar

The foolish fates."

This was lofty!- Now name the rest of the players.-This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant vein; a lover is more condoling. QUIN. Francis Flute, the bellows mender.

FLU. Here, Peter Quince.

QUIN. You must take Thisbe on you.

FLU. What is Thisbe? a wandering knight?

QUIN. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.

FLU. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

QUIN. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.

.

BOT. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too! I'll speak in a monstrous little voice-" Thisne, Thisne.Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisbe dear! and lady dear!"

QUIN. No, no; you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisbe.

BOT. Well, proceed.

QUIN. Robin Starveling, the tailor.

STAR. Here, Peter Quince.

QUIN. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe s mother.-Tom Snout, the tinker.

SNOUT. Here, Peter Quince.

QUIN. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisbe's father; Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part:-and, I hope, here is a play fitted.

SNUG. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

QUIN. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

BOT. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar that I will make the Duke say: "Let him roar again, let him roar again."

QUIN. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek, and that were enough to hang us all.

ALL. That would hang us, every mother's son.

BOT. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the