presented to him. There are sliding pannels in the wainscoat for the purposes of escape and concealment, which are supposed to have communicated with passages leading under the moat with which the castle is surrounded. The whole air of the Ball-room, with the dim light struggling through its latticed and dirty windows, was melancholy in the extreme; and how was this feeling increased when, on being left in it by our guide, we sate down in one of its recesses, and called to mind how different it had been when the "proud beauty" with her royal lover had paced it, radiant with light, and filled with the sweet voice of music. What was it now? alas! how desolate and lonely! Where were the sweet sounds which softened all who heard them ?-where the glittering group that gathered round the daughter to see a monarch at her feet?where the pleased father, flattered by the homage ?-where the accomplished and ambitious son? All, all were gone, as though they had never been; all silent, save the rustling ivy, which made us sigh-" how desolate !—how lonely!" When the guide returned, we were shewn over another portion of the castle, but were less inclined to look on other objects than reflect on those we had already seen. We therefore left it, and, pausing under its antique gateway, could not but pity the poor doting father when he received the news of the judicial murder of his children-his pride-his hope-his all. From that hour, he drooped the world was worthless-and little more than a year sufficed to break his heart, and lead him to the tomb by the side of which we had stood that day. : We left Hever;-but with different feelings to those with which we entered itand, as we passed the church the last rays of the setting sun lingered on its tall spire, casting a faint shadow on the castle tower, and brought to our minds (in connection with the memory of its former lord, who slept within it "the sleep that knows no waking," the touching lines written by his son, and sung by him in his prison the night before his execution :— We set out on our way back to the station, and, passing again through the green lanes we have previously described, could not resist the temptation of sitting for a short time on one of their flower-spread banks: sufficient time and light remained for it, and we added to the impressions already received in our ramble those which could not fail to be made under such circumstances by the perusal of the following poem. It was read by my companion, in a tone of mingled sorrow and emotion, which increased the effect produced by the fact that they were written by the royal captive, Anne Boleyn, a few hours after she had been condemned. 'Oh, Death! rock me asleep- Let pass my very guiltless ghost "My pains who can express, Alone in prison strange! Woe worth this cruel hap, that I "Farewell my pleasures past, For its sound my death doth tell. Death doth draw nigh, Sound the knell dolefully, For now I die!" The least sensitive of our readers will have little cause to smile when he is told that we resumed our walk, and continued our journey for some time in SILENCE. A LECTURE ON POETRY, Delivered at the City of London Mechanics' Institution, Gould Square, Crutched Friars, on June 15th, 1846. I believe it is not usual for the Lecturers who address the members of such Institutions as yours, and on subjects like that which I have now the honour to introduce to your notice, to preface their remarks by any quotation which may answer the purpose of those portions of Scripture selected by preachers as their text, or theme of discourse; but, as I have met with a few lines which are well adapted for such an object, I shall, in this instance, without further |