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    The Lovers

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    Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; for lo the
    winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear
    on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and
    the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.

    SONG OF SOLOMON.

    To a man who is a little of a philosopher, and a bachelor to boot; and
    who, by dint of some experience in the follies of life, begins to look
    with a learned eye upon the ways of man, and eke of woman; to such a
    man, I say, there is something very entertaining in noticing the conduct
    of a pair of young lovers. It may not be as grave and scientific a study
    as the loves of the plants, but it is certainly as interesting.

    I have therefore derived much pleasure, since my arrival at the Hall,
    from observing the fair Julia and her lover. She has all the
    delightful blushing consciousness of an artless girl, inexperienced in
    coquetry, who has made her first conquest; while the captain regards her
    with that mixture of fondness and exultation, with which a youthful
    lover is apt to contemplate so beauteous a prize.

    I observed them yesterday in the garden, advancing along one of the
    retired walks. The sun was shining with delicious warmth, making great
    masses of bright verdure, and deep blue shade. The cuckoo, that
    "harbinger of spring," was faintly heard from a distance; the thrush
    piped from the hawthorn, and the yellow butterflies sported, and toyed,
    and coquetted in the air.

    The fair Julia was leaning on her lover's arm, listening to his
    conversation, with her eyes cast down, a soft blush on her cheek, and a
    quiet smile on her lips, while in the hand that hung negligently by her
    side was a bunch of flowers. In this way they were sauntering slowly
    along, and when I considered them, and the scene in which they were
    moving, I could not but think it a thousand pities that the season
    should ever change, or that young people should ever grow older, or that
    blossoms should give way to fruit, or that lovers should ever get
    married.

    From what I have gathered of family anecdote, I understand that the fair
    Julia is the daughter of a favourite college friend of the squire; who,
    after leaving Oxford, had entered the army, and served for many years in

    India, where he was mortally wounded in a skirmish with the natives. In
    his last moments he had, with a faltering pen, recommended his wife and
    daughter to the kindness of his early friend.

    The widow and her child returned to England helpless, and almost
    hopeless. When Mr. Bracebridge received accounts of their situation, he
    hastened to their relief. He reached them just in time to soothe the
    last moments of the mother, who was dying of a consumption, and to make
    her happy in the assurance
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