And just like one in age alone, The list of all his line, Bends sadly where the waters moan, De Lancey's ancient pine.

Oh, victim of misguided zeal

To tell thy former fame !

Who bids the fretted stone reveal

The numbers of thy name 1

Ere brightening up the eastern sky

Another morn shall shine,

In equalizing dust may lie

De Lancey's ancient pine. .

Wo ho ! the satiate traveller stays Where eve's calm glories shine. To weep as tells of other days, De Lancey's ancient pine.

At a short distance fro:n Lydig's mills, on the property of Mr. Leonard Mapes, may be seen the ruins of an old chateau, since the residence of Lewis H. Guerlain. The following inscription upon a marble monument liard by, so touching! y records the history of its former inmates, that any further account would be needless. A. D. 1798, sacred to the memory of virtue, merit and beauty; to Sarah Guerlain, the beloved consort of Lewis H. Guerlain.

Alas ! 'tis in vain ! the spirit has fled I

Sarah has sunk in the tomb,

The beauty of nature lies mix'd with the dead

Gods ! how severe is the doom :

As a delicate lily that blows in the vale,

That springs to perfection and dies.

So she bloomed, and then sickened; but, shall we bewaill

The grave of the pure is the path to the skies.

Eternity how long !

In 1798, 7th March, Sarah died in the West Indies, in the 20th year of her age, in the passage from St. Croix to St. Christopher's and was brought back by her disconsolate husband to this peaceful mansion, the place of their union, the 4lh of October, 1795,