She wore on her head a garland, composed of her father's myrtles twisted
with her mother's cypress. One day as she sat musing by the waters of
Helicon, her tears by chance fell into the spring; and ever since, the
muses' spring has tasted of the infusion. Pity was commanded by Jupiter
to follow the steps of her mother through the world, dropping balm into
the wounds she made, and binding up the hearts she had broken. She
follows with her hair loose, her bosom bare and throbbing, her garments
torn by the briars, and her feet bleeding with the roughness of the
path. The nymph is mortal, for so is her mother; and when she has
finished her destined course upon earth, they shall both expire
together, and Love be again united to Joy, his immortal and
long-betrothed bride.
* * * * *
THE CONTEMPORARY TRAVELLER.
ACCOUNT OF THE VOLCANIC FORMATIONS NEAR THE RHINE.
_(From a Correspondent.)_
There is a volcanic country on the left bank between Remagen and
Andernach, highly interesting to the naturalist, but I believe not
visited by the generality of travellers. The late accounts, however, of
the formations of a similar kind in Auvergne and Clermont, in the centre
of France, and the speculations to which these phenomena have given
rise, determined me to explore this district whilst I was in the
neighbourhood.
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