many instruments, touched only by the breeze.

"Hark!" cried my exquisite companion, "they pass to meet, and to
welcome, to honour, to felicitate, and to crown, a Fairy emancipated
from mortal toil; and those bells, all tones of which speak so
eloquently of immortal peace and life--those liquid bells, at once so
mysteriously sad and so blessed, send forth, in token of gratulation,
their charmed songs. But hearken! for _thou_, O mortal! art
permitted to hear the lay of welcome and victory chanted by heavenly
essences, upon the arrival in this glorious region of our dear
companion, who shall depart from it no more!"

Thereupon ensued a delicious burst of young, glad voices, and rich,
sweet instruments; but, as a shadow to reality, as man to those immortal
and spotless beings, so to _their_ glorious Paean is the subsequent
faint memory of


THE ELFIN TRIUMPHAL SONG.


Beautiful! beautiful!--On they float
Those lyre-like bells--a soul in each note,
A tongue in each tone of the elfin chime,
To carol the bliss of our fadeless clime.

Beautiful! beautiful!--halcyon rest
Breathe they to the weary, woe-worn breast;
Lost in their song is the dream of Earth's dree,
Companion dear! and they're singing for thee.