gaze; and, in a voice more sweet than music, thus addressed him:
"Glenarvon," she said, "I come not to reproach you. It is Calantha's spirit hovers round you. Away with dread; for I come to warn and to save you. Awake—arise, before it be too late. Let the memory of the past fade from before you: live to be all you still may be—a country's pride, a nation's glory! Ah, sully not with ill deeds the bright promise of a life of fame." As she spoke, a light as from heaven irradiated her countenance, and, pointing with her hand to the east, he saw the sun burst from the clouds which had gathered round it, and shine forth in all its lustre. "Are you happy?" cried Glenarvon, stretching out his arms to catch the vision, which hovered near.—"Calantha, speak to me: am I still loved? Is Glenarvon dear even thus in death?"
The celestial ray which had lighted up the face of the angel, passed from before
