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ETHEL CHURCHILL.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A REQUEST.
Trace the young poet's fate
Fresh from his solitude—the child of dreams,
His heart upon his lip, he seeks the world
To find him fame and fortune, as if life
Were like a fairy tale. His song has led
The way before him; flatteries fill his ear,
And he seems happy in so many friends.
What marvel if he somewhat overrate
His talents and his state!
"She sleeps now heavily, nor will she waken for some hours; every thing depends upon that awakening," said the physician.
"You have, then, hopes?" asked Ethel.
"That the body," replied the other, "may recover; but not the mind. Young lady, it
