[In one of the largest of our inland seas is a beautiful island, far remote from the mainland, - rich in its mineral treasures. There is a story clinging to it, which gives to its wild, picturesque beauty a sad interest. A young chieftain with his bride was borne there one early springtime, to guard the property during the summer. They were accompanied by their trusty dog only, and were to be taken away in the early autumn; but were forgotten, until too late to reach them.]

FAR to the northward, where the earliest rays

Of summer's sun from sylvan waters peep;

Where broad-winged gulls brood o'er the silent waste,

And seem, in wild, weird notes, a watch to keep


O'er a lone isle; where in wild grandeur rise

The stately pines toward a crystal sky,

And midst whose craggy heights the eagle bold,

With soaring wing, seeks its wild eyrie on high, -

The White Man owned the spot, and all the wealth

Beneath the soil, in glittering, precious ore;

And few the sail that spread their outstretched wings,

Or turned their prow unto this lonely shore.

But when one summer's sun of long ago

Had robed the trees in freshest garb of green,

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