As Night Descended, I Lay Me Down By My Bright Camp Fire In Peace To Sleep, Though Doubtless There Are Very Many Of My Readers Who Would Scarcely Like To Do The Same.

Such a situation might naturally lead one to consider how many people have lain similarly down at night, in fancied security, to be awakened only by the enemies' tomahawk crashing through their skulls.

Such thoughts, if they intruded themselves upon my mind, were expelled by others that wandered away to different scenes and distant friends, for this Childe Harold also had a mother not forgot, and sisters whom he loved, but saw them not, ere yet his weary pilgrimage begun.

Dreams also, between sleeping and waking, passed swiftly through my brain, and in my lonely sleep I had real dreams, sweet, fanciful, and bright, mostly connected with the enterprise upon which I had embarked - dreams that I had wandered into, and was passing through, tracts of fabulously lovely glades, with groves and grottos green, watered by never-failing streams of crystal, dotted with clusters of magnificent palm-trees, and having groves, charming groves, of the fairest of pines, of groves "whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm."

"And all throughout the night there reigned the sense Of waking dream, with luscious thoughts o'erladen; Of joy too conscious made, and too intense, By the swift advent of this longed-for aidenn."

On awaking, however, I was forced to reflect, how "mysterious are these laws! The vision's finer than the view:

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