wisdom, brig, and golden veins of language.

    From Poets Corner I continued my stroll to part of tains t once s of t. At every turn I met rious name or tory. As ts into t catc ef?gies--some kneeling in nicion; otretcombs, ogeter battle; prelates, res; and nobles in robes and coronets, lying as it ate. In glancing over trangely populous, yet , it seems almost as if reading a mansion of t fabled city ed into stone.

    I paused to contemplate a tomb on e armor. A large buckler ogetion upon t; t covered by token of t omb of a crusader, of one of tary ents ing link bet and ?ction, betory and tale. tremely picturesque in tombs of turers, decorated as ture. t iquated cion is apt to kindle ions, tic ?ction, try imes utterly gone by, of beings passed from recollection, of customs and manners y. ts from some strange and distant land of  remely solemn and aombs, extended as if in tion of t in?nitely more impressive on my feelings ttitudes, t conceits, ts. I ruck, also, y of many of tions. times of saying t saying t knoap breatier consciousness of family  quot;all ters virtuous.quot;

    In te transept to Poets Corner stands a monument , but omb of Mrs. Nigtom of t is represented as ts marble doors, and a sed skeleton is starting fort at im. So ed rives ic effort to avert ted errible trut;  fancy ended jare.

    But errors, and to spread omb of those we love?

    t migenderness and veneration for t migo virtue. It is t of disgust and dismay, but of sorroation.

    ts