I '~~~t /)v t'l" fiAl POEMS OF HAMILTON HAYNE Compt ctr L-bition WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS 1! BOSTON D. LO T H R OP AND CO M PANY 32 FRANKLIX STREET, CORNER OF HAWLEY 1882 PAUL COPIY WIGHT, 188, BY D. LOTHROP AND COMIPANY. PRESS OF L. N. FREDERICKS. 31 Hawley St., Boston. TO COLONEL JOHN G. JAMES, PRESIDENT OF THE STATE AGRICULTURAL AND MECHANICAL COLLEGE OF TEXAS, These rts, IN WHICH HE HAS TAKEN SO UNSELFISH AN INTEREST, ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. IT had little to do with Byron's success as a poet that he was born in the purple of the English aristocracy; or with the quality of Shelley's genius that he was the son of a Sir Timothy, who prided himself on a descent from a long line of British squires; or that Algernon Swinburne's father was a baronet. And yet if our poets have gentle blood in their veins, other things being equal, we prefer that they should have it. Good birth, as a general thing, argues good breeding, refinement, education, fixed social position, and a wide margin of generous leisures; all of which have much to do with the outcome of a poet's life. We do not believe that Tennyson would ever have written as he has, if it had been his fortune to labor for his daily bread. Even had the genius all been there, the wide leisures would have been wantilng, and he would have produced his poemns, not as Goethe, at his " unhasting ease," -absolutely free fromnt all exigence,- but under the pressure of a goad, which would have destroyed all their beautiful spontaneity. It is therefore to the advantage of our poet, PAUL HAMILTON IHAYNE, that he had ancestors. It may sound somewhat unrepublican perhaps, to hear him wish, as he does in one of his keen sonnets, that these sanme ancestors had been content to stay in their four-hundred-year-old Shropshire Mlanor-House, enjoying the positive good England gave them, rather than go sailing over seas in quest of what might be of questionable benefit; but we can forgive him, in view of his antecedents on this side the water, of which he may be proud as' well. His English progenitors settled, early in colonial days, in Charleston, South Carolina, and from the first were of importance in the civil affairs of the young State. They furnished noble patriots, who shed their blood in Revolutionary days, for the liberties of their adopted country. The vi BIOURAPI]IUAL KETCTh name of the renowned statesman and orator, RIobert G. Hayne, who was the poet's uncle, has become the possession of the country. While in the Senate of the United States, he was not afraid to match his strength with Webster's, and he was governor of South Carolina when to be governor of the Palmetto State was an honor worth the winning. The subject of this sketch is the only child of Lieutenant Hayne, a naval officer, who died at sea when his son was an infant; his mother, recently deceased, was a South Carolina lady, of good English and Scotch descent. He was born in Charleston, January 1st, 1830, and educated at Charleston College, from which he was graduated. Inheriting the prestige of a noble name, high position, and a sufficient amount of wealth, the world was before the youth, and he was free to choose his path. From earliest boyhood his fondness for literature, particularly poetry, was pronounced, and there was everything around him to foster this love. The Charleston of thirty-five years ago was a very different place from the Charleston of to-day. The old Huguenot element, with its aristocratic names and associations, was strong, and the large admixture of good English blood helped to make its people just a little exclusive. Boston herself did not gather the mantle of her self-importance in a more queenly manner about her than did this city by the sea. There was a decided literary element, too, almong its hio-her classes. Legar6's wit and scholarship brightened its social circle; Calhoun's deep shadow loomed over it from his plantation at Fort Hill; Gilmore Simms's genial culture broadened its snympathies. The latter was the Mactenas to a band of brilliant youths who used to meet for literary suppers at his beautiful home; and here it wras that the love for old Elizabethan lore, and the study of the classics of the English tongue, which has always characterized Mr. Ilayne, found one of its best stimulants. No sooner had he graduated than he threw himself actively into literary life. He became connected with the journalism of the city, and when the enthusiastic group of young scholars established a Literary Monthly Magazine (Russell's) Mri. Ha yne was appointed its editor. His first volume of Poems was published by the old house of Ticknor & Co., Boston, in 1855, when he was some twenty-five years old, his second in 1857, and his third in 1860. These all met with such success as encouraged him to adopt fully a literary life as his vocation. vi BIOGRAPI]ICAL SKETCH. BIOGiRAPHIICAL SKETH CII. In the meantime he had married Miss Mary Middleton Michel, of Charleston, the daughter of an eminent French physician, who received a gold medal from Napoleon the Third, for services under the first Napoleon at the battle of Leipsic. Of tile poet's wife it is but the scantest justice to say that she has been the inspiration, the stay, the joy of his life. No poet ever was more blessed in a wife, and she it is, who, by her self-renunciation, her exquisite sympathy, her positive, material help, her bright hopefulness, has made endurable the losses and trials that have crowded Mr. Hayne's life. Those who know how to read between the lines can see everywhere the influence of this irradiating and stimulating presence. Then came the disasters of the civil war. Mr. Hayne, whose health, delicate from his childhood, would not allow him to take field service, became an aid on Governor Pickens's staff. During the bombardment of his native city, his beautiful home was burned to the ground, and his large, handsome library utterly lost. Even the few valuables, such as the old family silver, which hlie succeeded in securing and removing to a bank in Columbia for safe-keeping, were swept away in the famous "march to the sea;" and there was nothing left for the homeless and rutined man but exile among the "Pine Barrens" of Georgia. There he established himself, in uitter seclusion, in a veritable cottage (or rather slctitty, dignified at first as "Ilayne's Roost"), behind whose screens of vines, among the peaches, melons, and strawberries of his own raising, he has fought the fight of life with uncomplaining bravery, and persisted in being happy. Here, then, at "Copse Hill," nested amid his greenery and his pines, our poet has lived for fifteen years, content with little of this worldl's gear, happy in his chosen work, writing as ]his frail health would permit, and in mnanly independence. In 1872, tlhe Lippincotts published his Ieyeifens a, iI LyIrics, and in 1873 his edition of his friend Henry Timrod's Poems appeared, accompanied by one of the most pathetic biographical memorials of which literature gives an example. In 187a, The -1Iou(tcUin of the Lovers was published. A Life of Gilmore Simms (still in MS.) was also written, with Memorial Sketches of Governor Hayne and Mr. Legare, -so that these vears of seclusion have been well filled utip with literary labor; and duiing the past five years the names of not many writers have appeared more frequently, perhaps, in the pages of our current literature, than tlhat of the recluse of "Copse Hillo" Here he has interpreted Nature, we think, with as clear an VI'i viii B]()G]AIIII UAL HALibii. insight as the poet of Rydal Mount. He has made the melancholy moanings of his Georgia pines sob) through his verses. He has given voices to the icl'night T/t,i)cler; to the TVi)dless Rrcin; to the MJtsc(a(diies of the So ethert -Forests; to their WVoodl(tnd Pha(ses; to the Asl)ects of the Pines, as has not been heretofore done. It were superfluous to enter upon any criticism of his poems, nor is this the place for it. They are left with the reaider, who, if he cannot, of himself, find therein the aromatic freshness of the woods, -the swaying incense of the cathedral-like aisles of pines,-the sough of dying summer winds, - the glint of lonely pools, and the brooding notes of leaf-hidden mnockiing-birds, - would not be able to discern them, however carefully the critic might point them out. MAIAPGAIZET J. PRESTON viii B]3OGtl^llAi I C(i L v11. ............ .............. ~.. ~ ~~.. ~ o_ _ o _ ~__,..... 0~~ ~ ~ ~ o. ~......... .. * *~~ ~ ~ ~. ~ ~ *.... 0 0 - to to t; 00 0' to ----------- 0 .t. -.... - O O0 ~, c 7i It ci It tt tt ?I m 11 .1 ,. .... ., ~ ~z ~ -....... .~~~~~~~ ~. -.. .~~~~. ~..........'............' .................. -......... ~ o,,........ ~........ .. ~~ *~. ~.. -~~~ ~ - -. - - ~ — - -- -.CCCCCC C I- C, C?. C ~ -~ C, C C ~'- C C C C C C C~ - C C C C C C L - ~- 0 -0' 0'' 0..... q -... 0..... -......... 0.~...... I....... ~ - ~~.............-... .......... o~~~~~........................ 0 0 .. A... 000 .0 000 - I I ~t P ~ It co GON]'ENi'$. xi .. 207 The Visit of Mahmoud Benl Suleim to W. 208 Paradise...... 210 T. 208 My Daughter.......... 215 T. 209 Our "Hulnunilug-bird".... 215 ~. 210 On the Death of Calnon Kingsley When all has been said and done The Vision in the Valley.. The Arctic Visitation.. The Wind of Onset... LATER POEMS. n219 The Vision at Twilight. 250 222 An Hour Too Late..... 251 2 2.1 " Too Low and yet too High!"... 251 . 225 The Lordship of Corfu... 251 225 Tallulah Falls..... 253 225 The Meadow Brook... 255 2 t27 The Valley of Anostan.... 256 U227 Tw.2 Songs........... 256 228 Sonnets: ~ 229 Wr.229 I. Freshness of Poetic Percep The P..tion.... 257 * a..229 II. Laocoon.... 257 231 ft kpIII. At last..... 257 32?3) IV. A Phantom in the Clouds 258 23'e h V. Japonicas.... 258 *w2 3os. VI. The Usurper.... 258 2* f h t33 VII. December Sonnet.. 258 *.231, VIII. A Comparison.... 259 -9.23'.5 IX. Fate, or God?.... 259 *s A m235 X. Sornnet..... 259 The36 p..XI. Earth Odors —after Rain 260 C2369- XII. Sonriet..... 260 *n. 23'7 XIII. Poverty..... 260 Th 237- XIV. Waste...... 261 ~ 38 2 XV. A Morning after Storm 261 Th 239 XVI. Dead Loves.... 261 2*ea39 XVII. Nature at Ease.... 262 2h b40 XVIII. The Cnyd(lian Oracle. 262 *ac240 XIX. The Hyacinth.. 262 Tho241 XX. The Wood Far Illand. 262 *21A1 XXI. Sonnet.. 263 ~242'' 2k 2 L) XXII. Magnolia Gardens.. 263 Th At,e XXIII. England.... 263 . XXIV. Disappointi t...et 264 *h 2;12 XXV. The Last of the Roses 2. 264 1 XXVI. The Axe and the Pine. 26 2*e 14 XXVII. Betrothal Night.. 265 *,213 XXVIII. "The Old Mani of the Sea". 265 o.24 5 XXIX. Two Pictures.... 265 *i. 216, XXX. The Might have been.. 265 ~247 XXXI. Night Winds in Winter.. 266 e XXXII. To the Querulous Poets.. 266 XXXIII. In the Porch. 266 XXXIV. The Phantom Song... 267 XXXV. Small Griefs and Great.. 267 *P. 2,, XXXVI. The Shallow Heart!... 267 XXXVIL. The Storiiiy Night... 268 249 249 Personal Sonnets: . 249 I. To Henry W. Longfellow. 268 I 250 II. To George H. Boker... 268 Unveiled TI usDcad inesoe In a Spring Garden Ill Degree The Skeletoln a Vitless.. Storm Fragments.... Above the Storm.. Unldergrounld The Dryad of the Pine.. WVelcome to Frost The Piine's Mystery To a Bee. The first MNockinig Bird ill Spring The Red and the White Rose Before the Mairror... Two Epochs..... WVind from the East Peach Blooms The Awakening Love's Autumn The Spirea Coquette Skating...... The World within us Forest Quiet.. The Alockinig Bird, A Storm in the Distance The Vision by the Sea. The V'isioniary Face The Rose and the Thorn The Red Lily. Lake Wiininipiseogee Lake MNists The Inevitable Cali. The Dead Look Jetsam Faineless Graves. Winter Rose. -Tristraimi of the Wlood. Hints of Spring The Hawk Over the IVaters The True HIeaven.i. The Breezes of Julie A'Go,u,:taii1 Fanc.y Absence and Love The Fallenl Pine-Cone. Stern Truths Transfigured e. Distar- ce. Horizoins. In the Gray of the Eveninlg c 0 v, I'LI I IV I Is. xi Xii CONTEINTS. Personal Sonnets: III. To Algernon Charles Swi. burne.. 269 IV. To Edgar Fawcett... 269 V. Carl yle.. 269 VI. To Jea n Ingelowa... 270 Vl. I -I. To v I. P. 270 Mlacdoniald's Raid. 271 Tile Battle of Kilng's Mountain.. 274 The Hangin g of Bla ck Cud jo... 278 Charlesto nl Retaketn.. 280 To the Author of "the Victorian Poets". 283 -Ira a.......... 283 Below and Above.......2...84 Tile Woodland Grave..... 284 A Character 284.. 284 Lyric of Action........ 285 By a Grave i....... 285 Severance..........286 Twno Graves.......287 The World 2......... 87 The Encay Sky..... 288 A Lyrical Picture..... 288 Lamia Unveiled...... 289 lRache l........ 289 The SDnoaV Messengers..... 290 To Alexander H. Stephens.. 293 The Enchanted Mirror... 293 The Iiiiprisolied Sea-W~inds...294 Blanche and -Nell..... 294 The Dark...... 295 In the Studio..............296 Washington........... 296 In Memiioriam: III. Dean Stanley. 313 IV. Hirami H. Benner.. 314 V. W. (Gilmore Simnms... 315 VI. D)ickens...... 320 VII. To Bayard Taylor beyond us. 320 VIII. Bayard Taylor (upon death). 321 IX. Itichard H. Dania, Sel... 321 X. Bryant Dead!.... 322 XI. The Pole of Death... 322 XII. The Death of Hood... 322 Meditative and Religious: I. Christ on Earth... 323 II. Harvest Home.... 324 Ill. Reconciliation... 32,5 IV. A Vernal Hymn.. 325 V. C hristian Exaltation l. 326 VI. Solitude; in Youth and Age. 326 VII Denial.. eSa. 326 VIII. Lesson of Submissi on.. 327 IX. The Supreme Hour... 327 X. A Christlnias Lyric... 327 XI. The Pilgrim.i. 328 XII. Penuel...... 328 XIII. Patience.... 328 XIV. The Latter Pieace... 329 XV. Gautama... 329 XVI. Christ... 330 XVII. A Winter Hymn.. 330 XVIII. The Three IUrns.. 330 XlX. On the Decline of Faitl.. 331 XX. The Ultimate Trust.. 332 XXI. A Little WVhile I Failn Would l,inger Yet.... 332 XXII. Twilight Monologue... 333 XXIII. The Shadow of Death.. 334 XXIV. Fiinis.. 334 XXV. The Shadows on- the Wall. 335 XXVF. Consuinmatuml Est... 336 XXVII. The Broken Clor(s.. 337 XXVIII. The Rift Within the LLte. 337 XXIX. In Harbor.... 337 XXX. Forecastings.... 338 XXXI. Appealto Nature of the Soli tary Heart.... 338 hAm bush. Above. 297 South Carol ina to the States of the North 297 The Kin o rthe Plowth.. 299 The Return of Peace.. 300 Aorktown Centennial Lyric. 304 Onl tilePersecutionl of the Jew~s in Russia 30.5 Assassination...... 3(6 Enlglanld........307 To Lonlgfellow. 308 " Philip my KEing ".. ~. 308 X Plea for the Grav... e 309 Union of Bhte andSGray.... 310 The Plow..... 311 In Mlemoriam: I. Longfellow Dead... 312 II. On the Death of President Gar field...... 312 Poems for Special OccasionH s: I. To the Poet Whittier. II. To O. W. Holmes.. III. To Emerson.. IV. To Hon. R. G. H... IIUMOROUS POEMS. Valerie's Confession..... 343 Senex to his Friend..... 351 A Mleeting of the Birds.... 344 The Observant "Eldest" Speaks.. 351 A Bachelor Bookworm's Complaint.. 346 Lucifer's Deputy...... 352 Coquette and Her Lover.... 348 xii CO.LVTEY S TS. . 339 . 339 . 340 . 340 CONTENTS. xlii POEMS FOR CHILDREN. Little Nellie in the Prison.... 357 The Children....... 359 Will and I...... 359 Jaimiie and his Mlotlher..... 360 The Three Copecks....... 361 The Reason Why........ 361 The Silken Shoe......... 362 The Black I)estrier. 364 The Adventures of Little Bob Bonnyface 365 Kiss miie, Katie!.... 368 Caged............ 369 L ittl e Lottie's Grievace.... 369 A new Version of Why the Robin's Breast is Red.......370 The Little Saint.. 370 A new Philosophl, or, Star Showers ex plained......371 Baby's First Word..... 3,1 The Chameleon......... 372 Flying Furze....... 372 The New Sister..... 373 Hop, Skip, and Jumip, a Quieer Trio per sonifiel...... 373 Dancing........374 Motes... 376 The Ground Squirrel...... 376( Artie's Amen....3.... 77 Three Portraits of Boy,s... 378 Birds............ 380 The Dead Child and the Mocking-bird. 380 The Little Grand Duchies... 381 Roly Poly........... 382 The Imprisoned Innocents... 383 CONTENTS. xiii I LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PORTRAIT OF PAUL HIAMILTON HIAYNE..... HOMIE OF PAUL H. HAYNE...... COME! COME! AND SEEK US HERE.. WE REACHED AN ISLE....... GLADLY I HAIL THESE SOLITUDES.~~ BETWEEN THE SUNKEN SUN AND THE NEW MOON. THIS IS MY WORLD....... PAUL IH. IIAYNE'S BIRTHPLACE..... THE CANVAS SPEAKS....... COME, SWEETHEART, HEAR ME... ALMIGHTY NATURE THE FIRST LAW OF GOD THEY AROSE WITH THE SUN...... THE FLOWERS THAT WVREATHE MY RUMBLE HEARTH AND BY THEIR FAVORITE STIREAM....N LEAGUES OF GOLDEN FIELDS AND STREAMS.. VOICES LOW AND SWEET...... THE MOON, A GHOST OF IHER SWEET SELF.. UPVEILED IN YONDER DIM ETIIEREAL SEA.. COUNTLESS CORUSCATIONS GLIMMER.... THERE COMETH A DREAM OF THE PAST TO MlEo THOSE BRISTLING ROCKS...... HE TURNED TO W$AVE "FAREWELL...... ON THE FATEFUL STREAMLET ROLLED..... V\lIEW US WHITE-ROBED LILIES....... KING OF A REALM OF FIRS AND ICY FLOES.. OUR HOPES IN YOUTH........... No, NO! STANCH WIDDERIN........ EVERY DEEPEST COPSE......... THE KINGDOM'S PRINCELIEST YOUTH..... A MIONSTER MEET FOR TARTARUS...... THE WOVEN LIGHT AND SHADOWS..... PA' E Froiitis,viece xvii 5 8 14 27 30 40 46 53 159 73 76 96 101 106 109 112 118 125 132 138 145 149 156 161 168 174 183 190 xvi LJ~~~~~~~~~~~~~f OF JLLU~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~iTLA1YOY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~ UPLIFT AND BEAR MIE WVHERE THE WILD FLOWERS GROW. WHILE SAUNTERING THROUGH THE CROWDED STREET.. ON YESTERNIGHT OLD WINTER CAME...... HAVE I NOT FOLLOWED......... SOBER SEPTEMBER......... O MIASTERFUL WIND AND CRUEL....... AH[! MANY A GALLANT LOVED HIER WELL..... WHILE GRIMLY DOWN THE MOONLIT BAY..... O TWILIGHT SKY OF MELLOW GRAY...... GURGLE, GURGLE, GURGLE........ Now SERENE NATURE......... WINDS! ARE THEY WINDS?........ 'TWAS A MIORN COLD AND GRAY....... THAT IMAN MUST DIE......... THREE HUNDRED NOBLE VESSELS...... WE TURN, MY LOVE AND I........ To PASS ONCE MORE O'ER HAMPSIIIRE'S MIOUNTAIN HIEIGHTS You WVALK MY STUDIO'S MODEST ROUND.... WAR-WASTED LANDS......... OLD PASSIONS MAY BE PURGED OF BLOOD.... PALE MEMORY NEAR US........ O'ER ALL THE FRAGRANT LAND, THIS HARVEST DAY.. O WEARY WINDS!.......... MY THOUGHTS ARE WANDERING....... FOR FULL FIVE SECONDS....... NELLIE CLASPED HIS NECK........ MY SHOE, PAPA......... KATIE, PRETTY KATIE, KISS MIE.......... DANCING! I LOVE IT.......... ROLY POLY'S JUST AWAKENED.......... xvi LIST OF ILLUSI'PAI'IOIN,,S. 197 20-1 210 221 222 233 236 243 250 255 262 266 273 276 281 284 291 296 303 309 317 324 330 335 349 358 363 368 375 382 I IHOMiE OF PAUIL HA3IILTO. HAYNE, "Copse Hill," Ga. YOUTHFUL POEMS. 1800-1860. " THE LAUGIIING HOURS BEFORE - HE' FKEET." To have the will to soar, but not the wings, Eyes fixed forever on a starry height, WVhence stately shapes of grand imagin ings Flash down the splendors of imperial light; THE laughing IIours before her feet, Are scattering spring-time roses, And the voices in her soul are sweet As music's mellowed closes; All hopes and passions, heavenly born, In her, have met together, And Joy diffuses round her morn A mist of golden weather. And yet to lack the charm that makes them ours, The obedient vassals of that conquering spell, WVhose omnipresent and ethereal powers, Encircle Heaven, nor fear to enter Hell; As o'er her cheek of delicate dyes, Tle blooms of childhood h liover, So do the tranced and'sinless eyes, All cllildlhood's heart discover; Full of a dreamy happiness, With rainbow fancies laden, Whose arch of promise grows to bless HIer spirit's beauteous Adenne. This is the doom of Tantalus -the thirst For beauty's balmy fount to quench the fires Of the wild passion that our souls have nurst In hopeless promptings- unfulfilled de sires. She is a being born to r aise Those undefiled emotions, That whisper of our sunniest days, And most sincere devotions; In her, we see renewed and bright, That phase of earthly story. Which glimmers in the morning light, Of God's exceeding glory. Yet would I rather in the outward state Of Song's immortal temple lay me down, A beggar basking by that radiant gate Than bend beneath the haughtiest em pire' s crown! Why, in a life of mortal cares, Appear these heavenly faces, eWhy, on the verge of darkened years, These clear, celestial graces? 'Tis but to cheer the soul that faints Wit h pur e and blest evangels, To prove, if Heaven is rich with saints, That Earth may have her angels. For sometimes, through the bars, my ravished eyes Have caught'brief glimpses of a life divine, And seen a far, mysterious rapture rise Beyond the veil that guards the inmost shrine. THE JVILL -4N-D THE IVIVG. YOUTHFUL POEMLS. A room where sunset's glory deep, Enough!'tis not for me to pray That on her life's sweet river, The calmness of a virgin day Mlay rest, and rest forever; I know a guardian Genius stands Beside those waters lowly, And labors with ethereal hands To keep them pure and holy. E VE OF THE BRIDAL. YES! it has come; the strange, o'ernias tering, hour, When buoyant hopes, and tender, trem ulous fears Sway the full heart with a divided power, The flush of sunshine, and the touch of tears! Oh! for a spell to chlarm away thy care, As I coitll charm, were I but near thee now To chide coy flickerings of that half de spair Of virginal shamne upon thy downcast brow; A fitful gloom'mid blushes of bright joy, Like those transparent clouds in summlne r days, That cast their transient shadows of alloy Across the noontidle's else too dazzling blaze; Yet, from the fair hills of this foreign shore, I waft thee benedictions on the wind, Hopes that a peaceful bliss forevermore May rule the gracious empire of thy mind. And blessing thus, the dreary distance dies, And in a clearer than Agrippa's glass, The enamored fancy, -what pale vis ions rise, Brightening to shap e and beauty ere they pass? though dimi, Girds thy rich chamber with luxurious grace, Rounds the fair outline of each delicate limb, And crowns with chastened ray thine elo quent face, In shimmering folds thy raiments soft and rare, Swell with the passionate heavings of thy breast, O'er whose young loveliness, the en tranced air, Languidly breathing, seeks voluptuous rest. Thy hand -(in two brief hours no longer thine) - Gleams near a gossamer curtain, stirred with siglhs, And th e f ull, star-like tears begin to shine In the blue heaven of thy bewildering eyes. Tear s for the girlhood, almost past away, Its innocent life, its wealth of tender lore, Tears for the womanhood, whose opening day, May not reveal the untried scene before. Not bitter tears! for him tlhou lov'st is true, And all thy being quivers into flame, A swift delicious flame that thrills thee through, Whene'er thy memory lingers on his name. Ev'n now I see thee turn thy timid head, Luxuriant-locked, towards a dini retreat, Where twilight shadows veil thy bridal bed, And golden gloom and tender silence meet. 2 I MY FATHER-SONS 3 All, then! ofttimes a sadder scene will rise, A gallant vessel through the mist bound day, Lifting her spectral spars above the bay, Gloomily swayed against gray glimmner ing skies. MY father! in the vague, mysterious past, My boyish thoughts have wandered o'er ani o'er, To thv lone grave upon a distant silore, The wanaderei of the waters, still at last. Never in chlildhlood have I blithely spruni-g To catch my father's voice, or climnb his knee; He was a constant pilgrim of the sea, And died( upon it when his boy was young. O'er the dim billows thundering, peals a boom Of the deep gun that burstetli as a lkinell, hWhen the brave tender to the )brave fa re w ell - Anid strong armlls bear a comnrade to the tomb. He perished not in conflict nor in flame, No laurel garland rests upon his tomb; Yet in stern dulty's path hlie met his A life dooim; D n s o a Alife heroic, thioughl uLnwed to famie! Tlle opened sod: a sorrowing band be side - One rattling roll of musketry, and then, A man no more among his fellow-men, Darkness his chamber, and the earth his bride, First in vague depths of fancy, scarce defined, Love lilnned his wavering likeness on lily soull, Till thlrough slow growtths it waxed a perfect -whlole Of clear conceptions, brightening heart and mind. My father sleeps in peace; perchance more blest Than some hlie left to mourn him, and to know The bitter blight of an enduring woe, Longing (how oft!) with him to be at rest. His careless bearing and his manly face, Ilis cordial eye; his firm-knit, stalwart form, Fitted to breast the fight, the wreck, the storm; The sailor's frankness and the soldier's grace. FLY, swiftly fly Through yon fair sky, 0 purple-pinione(d Hours! And bring once more the balmy night, WN'hen froml her lattice, silvery bright, L, ove's beacon-star - her taper - shines Between those dark manorial pines, Above the myrvtle-bowvers. In dreams, in dreams we've mingled, and a swell Of feeling mightier for the eyes' eclipse. The rmusic of a blest Apocalypse, ThlrilledI throuighi my spirit with its mys tic spell: Fly, breezes, fly, Aind waft my sigh With love's warm fondness fraughlt, 'Twill stir my lady's languid mood, Where, in her verduirouis solitude, MY FA -Y'HER - SONG. 3 MY F,4 THE I,. ,50VG. YO UTIIFUL POEMS. 'Tis not life that I live, for the blood currents glide Through my wan shrunken veins in so sluggish a tide, That my heart droops and withers; what! lif e call you this? O! rather, consumlned by one keen thrill of bliss, Would I die with youthl's glory revivified round me, The deep eyes that blessed, and the white arms that bound me; O! rather than brood in this dusk of de sire, Sink down, like yon marvellous sunset, all fire, Thle soul clad with wings, and the brain steeped in light; Then come, potent wizard! I call on thy might, Breathe a mlagical mist o'er the ravage of Time, Roll back the sad years to the flush of my prime, And I'll (Irain thy brighlt draughlt for that vision (liviht e, Though Death, Death the Spectre, should hand me the wine! Sh e sit s and thinks, a roonlighlt giace Cast o'er her beauteous briow and face, Touched by a passionate thoughlt! Glide, rivulet, glide WAVitlh whispering tide, Tlhrouglh coverts low and deep, To woo hler withl the airy call, The lllusic faint, the far-off fall, Of fairy streams in fairy climes, Or pleasan t lapse of fairy rlhylimes, Soft as lher breath in sleep. Fly, swiftly fly T1I rough yon calm sky, O geitle-hearted (love! And pauising on her favorite tree, IIurnmur your plaint so tenderly, That, bolvr of that sweet tone, a ellarm Her very heart of lhearts mnay warm With rosy bliss of love. Fly, swiftly fly Thlouglh yvon fair sky, O purple-pinioned Iours lis! And bring,, once illOre the 1)aliiiy niglht, WVhen firoin hler lattice, silvery brighlt, Love's beacon-star — ler taper - shines Between those dark mianorial pines Above the imyrtle-bowers! BY THE G,RAVE. S0SOVG. [EFxtract from am unfinishied narrative poem.-] Ho! fetch ie thle w-inecup! fill up to the brim! For my heart has grown cold, and my vision is dim, And I fain would bring back for a mo ment the glow, The swift passion that age has long chilled withi its snow; Ho! fetch me the winecup! the red liquor gleamrs, WVithl a promise to waken youth's rapture of dreamns, And I'll drain the bright draught for that promrise divine, Though Death, Death the spectre, should hand me the wine. TIIIS is the place —I pray thee, friend, Leave ime alone with that dread grief, Whlose raven wings o'erarch the grave, Closed on a life how sad and brief! Already the young violets bloom On the light sod that shrouds her form, And Suiymiiier's awful sunshine strikes Incongruous on the spirit's stormn. She died, and did not know that I, Whose heart is breaking in this gloom, Had sllrined( her love, as pilgrims shrine A blossom fromn somie saintly tonb. i 4 4 0 SOXNG OF TIIE NAIADS-LETIIE. And, ah! indeed, it owas a tomb, The tomb of Hope, so ghastly-gray, Whence sprung that flower of love that grew Serenely on the Hope's decay. But, Lov e! a t last, all, all is clear. You see tlhe flanie of that fierce fate, AWicll blazed between my life, and yours, And left tllem botlh-how desolate.! A pallid flower that bloomed alone, With no warm light to keep it fair, 3tBut nurtured by the tears that fell, Even from the clouds of our despair. And well yoii comprehend that now 3iy heart is breakinig where I stand, But'mnid the ruin, shrines its faitlh, A relic from love's Holy Land. She perished, and her patient soiul Passed to God's rest, nor did she know "Come! come! ai(d seek us lihere, ln these cool deeps." Come! ere the earth grow s drear, The temipests rave, And the fast-failing year Is nigih its grave: Thy sulmmer, too, is past, SWouldst thouL have peace at last? O! here she dwells serenely in still caves, And waits to woo thee uiderneathl the waves. GAY is our crystal floor, Beneathl the wave, WAithl strange gems flaming o'er The Genii gave; Sw-eet is the purple light That lhauints our happy sighlt, And low and sweet the lullin, strains that sighl While the tides pause, and the faint zeplhyrs die. Come! come! and seek us here, In these cool deeps, WAhere all is cahlmly fair, And sorrow sleeps: Thylv burning brow shlall rest, Couched on a tender breast, And. charmed to bliss, thy souL slimll catchl thle gl eams Of mystic glories in Elysian dreams. A DUMBI, dark region throtgli whlose desolate lheart Creeps a dull river with a stagnant flood; Its skies are sonl)re-lhAed, and dreary cloLiads, No wind lhatlh ever stirred, lhang low and dim 5 I kept the faitli we could not plight In honor, or in peace below. SOVG OF THP' VA, IADS. -D L E TIIE. 6 YOUTIIFUL POEMS. Above the barren woodlands; all things droop In slumber; the little willow stoops to kiss The waves, but not a ripple murmurs back Its salutation, and wan starlike flowers Yield a white radiance to the failing sense, And odors pregnant with the charms of rest, And glamour of Oblivion; all things droop In slumber; for whate'er hath passed the bounds Of this miraculous kingdom, bird or beast, M[en lured from action, or soul-sick of life, Weary and hleartsore, maids in love's despair, Or mothers stricken by their first-born's crime - All sink without a struggle to deep peace. Prone in the gleam the river casts abroad, A gleam more pallid than the light of Hades, Lie those who sought this region ages since; Their upturned brows are smooth, and tranced with calm. Sounds likenn o the dying srges of the sea To ears far inland, or the feeblest sigh Of winds that faint on lofty mountain tops. This is the realm —" Oblivion" —this the stream Which mortals have called —" Lethe! " IN the realm that Nature boundeth Are there balmy shores of peace, Where no passion-torrent soundeth, And no storm-wind seeks release? Rest they'mid the waters golden, Of some strange untravelled sea, Where low, halcyon airs have stolen, Lingering round them slumbrously? Shores begirt with purple hazes, Mellowed by gray twilighlt's beams, Whose weird curtain s shrou d the mazes, Wandering through a realm of dreams; Shores, where Silence wooes Devotion, Action faints, and echo dies, And each peace-entraniced emotion Feeds on quiet mysteries. If there be, 0 guardian Master, Genius of my life and fate, Bear me from the world's disaster, Through that kingdora's shadowy gate; Let me lie beneath its willows, Oil the fragrant, flowering strand, Lulled to rest by breezeless billows, Thrilled with airs of Elfin-laind. And on their shadowy lips a waning smile Fitfully glimmers; round them rest the forms Of savage beasts; the lion all unnerved, Drowsy and passionless, his huge limbs relaxed, And curved to lines of languor: the fierce pard Tamed to a breathless quiet, whilst afar, Gloom the gaunt shapes of mighty brutes of eld, The world's primeval tenants; all things droop In slumber; even the sluggish river's flow Slulniber, flushed with faintest drealingis; De e o s o an eep that knos no answering dee, Unprofaned by phantom-seenings, - Mockeries of Protean sleep; - Noiseless, timeless, hlClf forgetting, May that sleep Elysian be, While ser-eher tides are setting, Inward, from the roseate sea. Hark! to mine a vo ice is calling, Sweet as tropic wiinds at night, Gently (lying, faintly falling Fromii some imiarvellous mystic height, YOUTHFUL POEMS. 6 0 THE RE.ALM OF L,EST. TiE ISLAND IN THE SOUTH. In a long swell of music; luminous skies O'erarched the place, and lazy, broad lagoons Swept inland, with the boughs of plan tain trees Trailing cool shadows through the dense repose; All round about us floated gentle airs, And odors that crept upward to the sense Like delicate pressures of voluptuous thought. I, with a long bound, leapt upon the shore Shouting, but she, pavilioned in dark locks, Sobbed out thanksgiving;'twixt the world and us, Distance that seemed Eternity outrolled Its terrible barriers; on the waste a Fate Stood up, and stretching its blank hands abroad Muttered of desolation. Did we weep, And groaning cast our foreheads in the dust? So it hacd been, but in each other's eyes Smiled a new world, dearer than that which rose Beneath the lost stars of the faded West. That very morn the white-stoled priest of God Had blessed us with the church's choicest prayers, And these did gird us like a sapphire wall When the floods threatened, and the ghastly doon Moaned itself impotent; free we were to love To the full scope of passion; a few suns, And in the deep recesses of the woods We built ourselves a cabin; the dimn spot Was fortressed by the tropic's giant growths, Luxuriant Titans of a hundred years; And the vines, laced and interlaced be t we en, Drooped with a flowery largess mi-any hued. Troubled Though lt's Lruhallowed riot By its wvianiderin, glamouir kissed, Feels a charmIn of sacred quiet Fold it, like enchanted mist. ''There's a realhni, thy footsteps nearing," [Thus the voice to mine replies,] " Where the heavy heart despairing, Breathes no more its life in sighs; Tis a reali, imnperial, stately, R-'efuge of dethrond Y ears, C'alhn as midnight, towering greatly, Flhroughl a moonlit veil of tears. ' Though an empire, freedom reigneth, Kingly brow-, and subject knee, Each with what to each pertaineth, Slumberiig in equality; 'Tis a sleep, divorced fro m dreamings, I)eep that knows no answering deep, Uniprofaned by plhantom-seemingsNoiseless, wondrous, timeless sleep. " On its shores are weeping willows, Action faints, and Echo dies, And the languid dirge of billows, Lulls with opiate symphonies; But beside that murmurous ocean ASI i-hc rest, repose in sooth, And no more the stilled emotion Stirs to joy, or wakens ruth. " Thou shalt gain these blest dominions, Thou shalt find this peaceful ground, Shaded by Oblivion's pinions, startled by no mortal sound; Noiseless, timeless, ALL forgetting, Shlall thy sleep Elysian be, WAhile eternal tides are setting Inward from that mystic sea." THE ship went down at noonday in a calhn, WVhen not a zephyr broke the crystal sea. We two escaped alone: we reached an i sl e Whereon the water settled languidly 7 THE ISL,4ND I-V THE SOUTH. 8 OUFUt POEMS. It was a place of Faery; songs of birds That glimmered in and out among the leaves, Like magical dreams embodied, wooed the winds To gentlest motion of benignant wings; And the sun veiled his radiance, and the stars Peered through the shadowy stillness with a light So spiritual, the forest seemed to wane In tremulous lines waved down the sil very aisles. There lived, there loved we, as none else have lived And loved, I think, since the primeval blight Rained down its discords, and death clinched the cur-se. No shallow mockeries of a worn-out age, Effete and helpless, bound young passion round With the cold fetters of detested forms: Civilization was not there to set Its specious seal of custom on our hearts, Prisoning the bolder virtues; we might dare To act, speak, think, as the true nature moved, Untutored and majestic; our souls grew To the stature of the spirit, that looks down From the inpolluited regnan cy of heavens That hold no curses; the glad universe Showered rare benedictions on our path; Matter was merged in poesy: the winds From the serene Pacific, the quick gales From mountainous ridges in the upper most air, The eternal chorus of far seas serene, The harmony of forests, the small voice That trembles from the happy rivulet's breast, [phy, All touched us with that sweet philosoWhich, if we woo the visible world aright, Blesses experience with new gates of s ense Where through we gain Elysium. So the year s Were winged and odorou s with a thou sand joys, Of which the poor slave to the hollow law We term society, hath had no dream; Our love was comprehensive, full, divine, Rounding the perfect or bit wherein life Should gravitate to God, even as the spheres Roll to the central fire; lo ve mastered life As maelstroms suck still waters, love thie one Electric current through act, reason, will, Throbbing like insp iration; no vain touch Of weak, fantastic passion, no thin glow Of morbid longing, flutterin g feebly up From sha l low brains, stirred to a dubious flame, And tortured with false thiroes of senti ment -- (That bastard whimperer to the deity, Love - As a changeling to the T itans)-no red h eat Of base desire, fusing the delicate thought To chaos; but a steadfast, genial sun, A luminous glory, gentle as intense, Making our fate a heaven of warmth, light, rest, Whose very clouds were halos, and whose stormis Were tempered into music. Thus time stole On muffled wings through the,till air of bliss, Gathering our ripened hopes, and sowing seeds Of joy to come. My innocent bud had flowered To beauty-oh! such beauty as these lips, Touched though they were with fire, might not profane With shackles of mean utterance. Oh, God! God! I'OUI'HFUL POEillS. 8 '&; ~ " We reached al isle IVhereon the water s settled laligu,lly." -~~~~OE 9 AWhv dtidst thou take her from me? why transform The passionate presence in my shielding arnls To this poor phantomn of a broken brain, MAockinig my woe with shadows? On a nightm s WAhen the still sea was calmest, the bright stars Most bright, and a warm breathling on the winld Spoke of perpetual summer, a strange voice 1 scair(e could hear, said: " It is eveningn tim~e," Andt a wan hand my eyes were blind to note Beckoned her far away. The awful grief Closed round me like an ocean. I was mad, And raveld my memory from me. When Ti again The world dawned, as a dreary landscape dawns Grotesquely through the sluggish mists of Mlarci, I walked once more in a great capital's streets, A savage'midst the civilized, a man.Slattered and wrecked, I grant you, still a man Amonogst the puppets that usurp the name Ani(i act the fraud so basely, that the Fiendm WAearies to death the echoes of his hell In laughter at them. I cool with you still, Emiasculate denizens of the stifling mart, Wlhere heaven's free winds are throttled in the fumes Of fturniaces, and the insuilted sun (;looius through the crowding vapors at midday, Like a God, re-collectiing to himself His immiortality; where nerveless limbs B3ear nerveless bodies to their separate (lensi Of torture, and lean, wide-eyed revellers Foster the hungering worimi that never dies, And fall the lurid fire unquenchable; aWhere stealthy avarice lurks in wait to sack The wifdow's ho us e; a nd lice nse of low iini ds, Loaded wnvith prurient knowledge, and no hiearts (Self-worship having killed themi), make the world A Pandemonium. I auie with you still; But the hours creep on to a more fortu nate time; At vessel swells her broad sails in the bay, Ain-d the breeze bloweth seaward; I will seek My island in the southern waves again; A thousand memories urge me, tones that slept Waken to invitation; I can feel The Hesperian beauty of that realhn of peace Flushing i my brain and fan,cy; but throulgih all The ruddy vision glides a tender shade, And pauses with mute meaning by a grave. D)elivered on the First Aniiversary of the Car olina Art Association, Feb. 10, 1856. TIIEPRE are two worlds wherein our souls may dwell, With discord, or ethereal music fraught, One the loud mart wherein men buy an(l sell (Too oft the haunt ef grovelling moods of Hell), The other, that immaculate realm of thoiught, In whose bright calm the master-work men wroughl t, Where genius lives on light, And faitlh is lost in sight, Where crystal tides of perfect harmony swell ODE. 9 0 0 I) I,". 7YOUTHWFUL POEMS. U,p to the heavens that never held a cloud, And round great altars reverent hosts are bowed, Altars upreared to love that cannot die, To beauty that forever keeps its youth, To kingly grandeur, and to virginal truth, To all things wise and pure, Whereof our God hath said, "Endure! endure! Ye are but parts of me, The 1h(th bleeni, and the evermore to be, Of my supremest Immortality!" We falter in the darkness and the dearth \\hich sordid passions and untamed de sires Create about us; universal earth (Groans with the burden of our sensual woes; fThie heart heaven gave for homage is consumnied iBv the wild rages of unhallowed fires; The blush of that fine glory which illumed Tlhe earlier ages, hath gone out in gloom; There is no joy within us, no repose, One creed our beacon, and one god our hold, The creed, the god, of gold; The hleavenw-ard winged Instinct that aspires, Like a lost seraph with dishevelled plnume, Pants humbled in the "slough of deep Despond;" The present binds us, there is no Beyond, No glorious Future to the soul content With the poor husks and garbage of this world; And are indeed the wings of worship furled Forevermore? Is no evangel blent, No sweet evangel, with the hiss and hum Of the century's wheels of progres s? Science delves ploires Realms arctic and an tarctic, the strange sh i ores Of re mot e seas, or with raised vision stands, All undismtayed, anoidst the st arry lands: Mlan too, material man, our baser selves, She hath unmasked e ven to th e s our ce of being; Alnost sh e seems a g od, Deep-searcinig a nd far-seeing; And yet how oft like some wild funeral aswail Which goes before the bur i al o f o ur hopes, Emerging from the starry-blazoned copes Of highest firmaments, or darkest vale Of the nether earth, or from the burdened air Of chambers where this mortal frame lies bare, Probed to the core, her saddening ac cents colle; "What! call'st thou man a seraph? nay, a clod, The veriest clod when his frail breath is spent, Mlan shows to us who know him; what is he? A speck! the merest dew-glol)e'midst the sea Of life's infinity;" Or, " we have probed, dissected all we can, But never yet, in any mortal man, Foutntd tee the spirit! thing of time and clay, Eat, drink, enjoy thy transient insect day! " Thus Science; but while still her mock ing voice Rings with a cold sharp clearness in our ears, Her beauteous sister, on whose brow the years Have left no cankering vestige of de cay, 10 Down to the eartli's liot vitals, and ex ODE. 11 From the deep bosom of the purpling air A lambent glory broke along the vast Horizon line,whence clouds, like incense, rolled Athwart a firmamental arc of gold And sapphire; clouds not vapor-born, But clasping each the radiant seeds of Illorn, Which suddenly, clear zenith heights at tained, Burst into light, unfolding like a flower, From out whose quivering heart a mystic shower Of splendor rained: A spell was hers to conquer time and space, For from the desert grandeur of that place A hundred temples rise, The marble poems of the bards of old, Whereon'twere well to look with rever ent eyes, Because they body noblest aspirations, Ethereal hopes, and winged imagina tions, Whether to fabled Jove their walls were raised, Or on their inner altar offerings blazed To wise Athena, or, in Christian Rome Beneath St. Peter's mighty circling dome, A second Heaven, the golden censers swing, The clear-toned choirs those hymns of rapture sing, Which, on harmonious waves of gratula tion, The outburst of the sense of deep salva tion, Uplift the spirit where the Incarnate Word Amid the praise no ear of man hath heard, The peace no mind of man can compre hl end, Awaits to welcome Time's worn wander ers homee! Eternal Art, she of the fathomless eyes Brimmiing with light, half worship, half surprise, In whose right hand a branch of fadeless palms, Plucked from the depths of golden shad owed calms, Points upward to the- skies, She answers in a minor, sweet and strange The while, all graces in her aspect meet, And Doubt and Fear shrink shuddering at her feet, "I bring a nobler message! Soul, re joice! PRise with me from thy troublous toils of sense, Thv bootless struggles, born of impo tence, Rise to a subtler view, a broader range Of thought and aim; Mline is a swn-av ideal, But still the works I prompt, alone, are real; Mline is a realm from immemorial time Begirt by deeds and purposes sublime, Whlose consecration is faith's quenchless flame, lWhose voices are the songs of poet sages, Whose strong foundations resting on the ages, The throes and crash of empires have no t shaken, Nor any futile force of human rages. "Come! let us enter in! Behold, the portal gates stand open wide! Only, from off thy spirit shake the dust Of any thought of sin, Or sordid pride, For sacred is the kingdom of my trust, By mind, and strength, and beauty sanc tified." She spake! and o'er the threshold of a sphere, A marvellous sphere, they passed; ODE. 11 YOUTHFUL POEMS. "But look again!" Art's eager Genius cried: Tlhou hast not seen the end, Scarce the beginning!" As she spake, a tide Of all the mighlty masters, loved, adored, From out the shining distant spaces poured, All those whlo fashioned, through an inward dower, The concrete forms of beauty and of power; Whether from white Pentelic quarries brought, The voiceless stone uprose, a breathing thought, Or, from the mystic rays of rainbows drawn, And colors of the sunset and the dawn, The painter's pencil his ideal fine, Had clothed in hues divine; Or, skilled in living words Mlelodlious as the natural voice of birds (But each a sentient thing, a mneani ng grand, It is not given to all to understand), The poet from the shade of breezy woods, From barren seaside solitudes, And from the pregnant quiet of his soul Otitbreathed the numbers that forever roll PeAeneipal, a s the fountains of the sea, And deep almost as deep eternity! Moves as he moved below, Save that his smitten vision Rekindled at the fount of fire Elysian, Burns with a subtler, grander, deeper glow; And yonder zschylus, with " thunder ous brow," Scarred by the lightning of his own crea tions, Wrapped in a cloud of sombre med(lita tions, Hath seized the tragic nmuse, as if to her He scorned to bend an humnble worship per, But would extort her gifts; Then Shakespeare mild, Blessed with the innocent credence of a child, With a child's thoughts and fancies un defiled, And yet a Mlagian strong To whom the springs of terrible fears belong, Of majesty, and beauty, and delight, To the weird charm of whose infallible sight, The heart's emotions, Though turbid as the tides of darkest oceans, Shone clear as water of the woodland brooksHe passed with wisdom throncd in his looks Attemnpered by the genial heats of wit; While close beside him, his grand counii tenance lit By thoughts like those which wrought his Judgment Day, Grave Michel Angelo His massive forehead lifts, In a strange Titan fashion, Iunto Heaven; Next Raphlael comes, with calmn and star like miiens. Fresh from the beatific ecstasy, His face how beauLiful, and how serene! Since God for hlim the awful veil had riven N ear and yet nearer the bright concourse camle, Their faces all aflame, As when of yore the quick creative thrill Did smite them into utterance, and the thrlong, Aw-ed by the fiery burden of the song, Grew reverent pale and still; O! solemn and sublime Apocalypse That wresteth, from the dreary death eclipse, T he s acred presence of these marvellous men! Yonder the visible Homer moves again, 12 QUEENV GALELA 4- THE POEI"S TRUST IN IIIS SORROVW. 13 QU sEoV GALEN,I, 011'ilE,S(,LTANA B,'E TI-E'l/). That shrouds Div-iniity, Anild rolled before his vwonidering minid atld eye V-isioIns that wN-e should gaze on but -to die! a eoI,I)! let tlie liearitless perjnirer go! Speak not! strike not' lie is ))iy foe, d!Fron me, mie only, comes thlle blow - I will repay himn woe for woe; Look in mbe y eyes! 0 liy eyes are dry, I breathe no plaint, I lheave no siglh, But - vill avenge mne ere I die. Thlley passed, and thousands more passed by with them; Agai Alrt's Genius spake: " Lo! these are they -Whlo, tlhrough stern tribulations, Ilave raised to right and truth the sub ject nations; Lo! these are they, Whlo, were the -whlole bright concourse swept away, Their faine's last barrier, built the surge to stemi Of chllaos and oblivion, whlelmed be neatlh The pitiless torrent of eternal death, \-ould yet bequeath to races unbegot The precepts of a faith which faileth not; Poiiliting, from troublous toils of time and sense, From bootless struggles born of impo tenie, To that fair realm of thought, In -whlose bright calm these master workmen wN-rouglht, Whlere crystal tides of perfect music s-ell U-p to the heavens that never held a cloud, And roulnd great altars worshipping hosts are bowed — Altars upreared to love that cannot die, To beauty that forever keeps its youth, To kingly grandeur, and to virginal truth, To all thllings wise and pure, Whereof our God hathl said:'Endure! endur e! Ye are but parts of me, The HATIt BEEN, and the evermore TO BE, Of my supremest Immortality!'" Thinik you tlhat I shall basely rest, Aiid know the bosom mine hatlh prest, Is couche(l tpon a colder breast? Thinik you that I shall yield the West, The Orient soul mi~y nature nurst, Till the black seed of treachery burst Andl blossomed to tllis deed accurst? tIy rival! O! her glance is meek, Her falterinig presence wan, and weak As the faint flush that tints her chleek. 'Tis not oIl hpler ithat I pouold ivreak Mly vengeance —sooner would I wring Life fromt an insect-birtlh of spring Than palter w ith so poor a thing. But he - I tell you if he flew, As it was once his wont to do, Repentant - plead(ing -quick to woo, With all his wild heart flamiing through The glance of passion - it were sweet, Yea, imore!'tw~ere righlteous, just, and Imleet, To slay hiIn kneeling at my feet! He shcall not wed her; by Ileaven's light lHe shall not; o'er my lurid sight Throbs a thick fire; the ancient might Of a stern race is stirred to-nighlt; 3dy sovere ign claim annul -disown! I will repay himii groan for g1roan, Or —stab him at tle altar-stone! O GoJ)! how sad a doom is mine, To huIan see-iinig: Thou hast called on mie to resign So imuch - n hcl! -(ll!- but the (livine Delights of dreaimling. 0 TIIEPOETIS I'PIUSTLVIII5,'YORROW. i- OU'IlYFUL POEMS. I set miy (dreamis to miusic w-ild, A w-ealthl of iieasuires; AIy lays, tlhank lleaveii aere undefiled, I sport Nithl Fancy as a chlild W0itli golden leisurles. Across ih-ltose in dperturl)dd life, A sod(len passion sftept, in st rife, Witlh w ildi, tinhlallow\ed(1 forces rife. It stilrred(l lheri iiatti'e's inmiiiost deep, That iieyel-ieroi e slha,ll rest or sleep, tlemiiorse, its rutigged bed of r-ock, O'er whlich for aye, w-itlh tlhunder-sllock, BThe ti(ldes of feelilng, fierce and fleet Are (uashtled to foaime i or icy sleet, A raginlg whlir of waters, rent By solnietlhing w orse tlhani discontent! Al-id long- as fate, not wholly stern, But this slhall grant imie, Still with perennial faitli to turii Wh-lere Song's tiunsullied altars burnAo N-ouglht, noughtl slhall daunt imie! Whlat tlhough mi w-oril(lly state be low Beyon(l redressing; I own anl inner flamie -whlose glow Makes a(lialt all the outi-ard slhow; MIy last great blessing! (aa,dsLADI,Y I hlail these solitudes, and breatle The inspiring breathl of the freshl wood land air, Most gladly to the past alone bequeath I)oiilbt, grief, and care; I feel a newv-boirn free domlo of the mind, Nursed at the breast of Nature, with the dew Of glorious dawns; I hear the mountain Clear as if elfin trumpets loudly blew, Peal through the dells, and scale the lonely height, Rlousing the echoes to a quick delight, Bending the forest monarchs to its will, 'Till all their pond'rous branches shake and tlhrill In the wide-wnakening tumult; far above The heavens stretch caln and blessing; far below The mellowing fields are touched with eveiiing's glow, And many a pleasant sight and sound I love AAWould gently woo me from all thoughts of woe: Suntilighlited meadows, music in the grove, From happy bird-throats, and the fairy rills That lapse in silvery murmurs through the hills; BUT yesterday this brook was bright, Alnd tranquil as the clear imoonlliglht, That w-ooes the palmls on Orient shlores, But now, a lhoarse, dark streamn, it pouIrs Iinpetuots o'er its bed of rock, And almnost withl a tliunder-sliock Boils into eddies, fierce and fleet, That dashl the whlite foamll round our feet, A raging- w-hIirl of w-aters, rent -Vs if witlh angry discontent! A tempest in the night swept by, Born of a inmurk and fiery sky, And while the solid wvoo(dlandls shook, It vwreaked its fury on the brook. The evil genius of the blast Within its quiet bosoni passed, And therefore this tranisfigured tide, Which used as lovingly to glide A,s thotglt throlg sir siits sanctified, Rolls now a whirl of waters, rent A.s if with angry discontent. I knew, of late, a creature, briglit And gentle as the clear mioonlight, The tenderest and thLe kin(lest heart That ever played Love's selfless part, J 14 i i I I I 0 NAY'U],'E CO-V,,50LEP,. I'IIE B l,'O OK. " Gladly I hail these solitudes, and breathe The iinspiring breath of the fresh lvcodland air." NATUlRE THE CONSOLER. A lovelier world! in the thronged space on highl, Dwells there indeed a fairer star than ours, Circled by sunsets of more gorgeous dye, And gifted with an ampler wealth of flowers? Can heavenly bounty lavish richer stores Of color, fragrance, beauty, and delight On mnortal or imimortal sight, In any sphere that rolls around the sun? See what a splendor from the dying day Through the grand forest pours! Now, lighlting up its veteran-crests with glory, Now, slanting down the shadows dim an(d hoary, Till, in the long-drawn gloom of leafy glades, At the far close of their impervious shades, The purple splendor softly melts away! Great circles of rich foliage, rainbow crown-edoh By autunn's liberal largess, whilst aroundo Grav-e sheep lie miusing on the pastoral gr-ounid, Or sending a mild bleat To o ther flocks afar, The fleeev comrades they are wont to meet Hoiiew-a-(l returning'neath the vesper star' Oh. genial peace of Nature! divine calm That fallest on the spirit, like thle rain Of Eden. bearing melody and balm To soothe the troubled heart and heal its pain, Thv infltuence lifts mie to a realm of joy, -AV moonlight happiness, intense but mnildsh T-nvisite(d )v slhadow of alloy, Anl flushed with tender dreams and fan cies undefiled. Now, overarched by dewy canopies, And awed by dimness that is hardly gloom, [lips, V We stand amidst the silence with hushed Watching the dubious glimmer of the skies Paled by the foliage to a half-eclipse, And struggling for full room, With intermittent gleams, that quickly die In throbs and tremors, waning suddenly To the mere ghosts of flame, to appari tiolls Inpalpable as star-beaiims in deep seas. Lost in the dark below the surface ruffling breeze. The universe of God is still, not dumb, For mianyv voices in sweet undertone To reverent listeners come; And IIaly- thoughts, wnithl truthl's ownk lhoiney laden, Into the w-atclier's wakeful brain have flown-i, Charming the inner ear WZith harmonies so low, and yet so clear, So ulndefined, yet pregnant with a feeling, An inspiration of sublime revealing, That they whose being the strong spell shall hold, Do look on earthly things Through atmospheres of rich imaginings, And find, in all they see, A mleaniing manifold; The forces of divine vitality Break through the sensual gloom About them furled, All instinct with the radiant grace and bloomp Caught from the glories of a lovelier world. [tionis, Latest of all these marvellous transiAnd crowning all with their ineffable grace, The eyes of the niglht's emnpress, witch ing sweet, Scatter the shadows in each secret place, 115 So that, whei-e'er her beamy glaiiees fleet, YO UTHF~UL POEMS. Shot through and thlrotugh, as if with arrowy might, The dusky gloaming falls before her shafts of lighlt. The seeds are warm of the churchyard flowers, That will blossom above her rest, And a bird that slall sing by the old church towers, Is already fledged in its nest! DEFEATED' but never disheartened! Ikepulsed! but inuconquered in will, Upon dreary d(liscoiiifitures builling tIer Viltue's strong battlements still, The souLl, through the siege of temnpta tions, Yields not unto fraud, nor to mniglit, UInquelled by the rush of the passions, Serene'miid the tumults of fight. And so, when a blander s-uininer shall smile, On somi'e night of soft July, W7e will lend to the dust her beauty awlhile, In the hush of a moonless sky. She sees a grand prize in the distance, She lhears a glad sound of acclaims, The crown wrought of bloomns amaraln tlline, The music far sweeter than Falne's. And so,'gainst the rush of the passions She lifts the l)road buckler of right, And so, through the glooms of tempta tion, She walks in a splendor of light. And later still, shall the churchyard flowers, Gleam nigh with a white increase; TAnd a bird outpour, by the old church towers, A plaintive poem of peace. TIIERE is a golden season in our year, Between October's lale and lusty cheers And the hloar frost of winter's emnpire drear; OVER her face, so tender and mieek, The lighlt of a prophecy lies, That has silvered the red of the rose on her clheek, And chastened the thoug-lt in her eyes! Which, like a fairy flood of mystic tides, Whlereon divine tranquillity abides, The kingdomn of thle sovereign months divides; Beautiful eyes, with an inward glance, To the spirit's mystical deep; Lost in the lang,uicl gleam of a trance, 31ore solemnn and saintly than sleep. TThe wailing autumn winds their requiems cease, Ere winter's sturdier storms have gained release, And heaven and earth alike are bright with peace. And, forever and ever, she seemns to hear The voice of a spirit implore, "Come! enter the life that is noble and clear; Come! grow to my heart once more." 0 soul! thou hast thy golden season too! A blis sfull interlude of birds and dew, Of balhnyv gales, and skies of deepest blue! And. forever and ever, she mutely turns Fromii a mnortal lover's sighs; 16 And fainter t,lie red of the rose-flush biiriis, And deepei- the thought in her eyes. i TII,F,' SOUL-(-'O-VFLICT. 7'HE 7'JVO S UlIl-[E]?S. 0 THE PPESE-VTI.IIEV7. UNES. t7 That second summer, whlen thy work is done, Thle harvest hoarded(l, and the mellow sun Gleamis on the fruitful fields thly toil has l-011; He longed to sing one inoble son-, To thrill, withl p)assioll's living breath, The fools whlose scorft hada wo rke d hid wrong, And baffle fate, and conquer death. AWliich, also, like a fair mysterious tide, AWhereon calmi thloughlts like shllips at anchor ride, Dotli the )broadl empire of thly years di vide. Dear God! dost tlou e ndow witli powers, Whlose aspirations mnock tlhe bars Of timne and sense, whlose vision towers Irradiate'miid thy sovereign stars, This passed, -what miore of life's brief patlh remainis, W0inds throtgli unliglited vales, and dis nial plains, The hlaunt of chlilling blighlt, or fevered painis. Only to furneislO solne f aint gleanms Of loftier beauty, (quick with,.lrawn, Leaving a frenzied hiell of (dreaimis, And wN-ailinigs for the vanished dawnIl? The oracles of fancy nite, Alubition's priests d(letlhroned and fled, I-le wanders daitl i a tuneless lute, Tlhrouglh dIreary regionis of the dead. Pray-, then, ye hlappy few, along wvhose w%-a y [ray, Life's Indian sunmmer pours its purpling u That ye miay dlie ere dawns thle evil day. Sink on that season's kind and genial breast, WVhile peace and sunshine rule the cloud less west, The elect of Godl, whom life and death have blessed! But from that place of bale uplooey 'The phanitomiis of inniburie(d years, The lhaunitinig care, the gr-ief, the gloom, The treacherous lhopes, the pale-eyed fears That stormed his spirit's brave design, That clogged its wings, betrayed its trust, DI)efaced its creedl, and dashe(dl thle wine In song's bright chlalice, to the dust. "Though dowered w-itlh instincts keen and high." Ah, hIeaven! could lie retrace his life From out this realii of doubt and deartlh, He would not court thought's eagle strife, But clasp the calm that clings to earth. " I weep My youtli, aind its brave hopes all deadl anid gone, Iln tears which burn." —PARACEL,S U,S. THOUGH dowvered with instiniets keen and high, WAithl buring thoutghlts that wooed the light, The scornful world hath passed him b y, And left himn lonelier than the nighlt. Above, the threatening thlsu (les wai t For dauintless souls that dar-e aspire, B3ut lowly lives are safe fronm lhate, And peace is wecl to imeek desire. Yes! cold and hopeless, one by one The stars of faitlh have quenched their flame, And like a waning polar sun, Declines the latest hope of fame. Yet, birds that breast the turbulent air Are worthier than the thlings that ecreep, And nobler is a highl despair Than weak content, or sluggish sleep. LINE S. 17 0 L I -V E,5. Y YO UTIFUL POEMS. Walk tle glooms of a ghostly shore, Meade w-ild by a pliaiitomn-latiiited brain, And a cloud(-encirled( sou-l; By a hlaunted brain and a cheerless heart, While thle years and tlhe ages roll? O! ~orn ey-es are deep and tender, O! youri charmned voice is low, But I've found your beauty's splendor All a m boc keny and a slpoi; Slighted heart and broken promiise Followi- whlieresoe'er you go. All youtr uwords are fair and goldein, All yourtt a ctio ns false an( g beoang, Not tile noblest soul's behol(leni To yotur wn-eak affections loing; Onlly truie in- lov er's fancy, Onily coinstanit i11- 1is soIng. No answer coImeOs to lny cry, Though oult of the depthls I call: Not the faintest gleaii of a hopeful beam Shines over' the shlirou(d and pall. My soul is clothed wiithl sackcloth an( (lust, And I look fiom niy wido-wed( hearth With a vacant eye on the tulnillt and stir Of this weary, (dreary earth; For my soul is dea(l and its llol)(s are (dust, And the joy of passioln, tlhe strengthl of trust, These passedI from the world with A wmidower nmuses over the likeness of his dead w-ife. THE face, thle beautiful face, In its li-ing flush an(d glow, The perfect face in its peerless grace That I worslhippedl long, ago; That I w-orshlipped when youth was strong and bold, That I worship Inow, Thoughl the pulse of youtlh growvs faint and low, And the aslhes of lhole are cold. TIIE pathlway of his iIourunftil life hatlh wound Beneathl a shadlow; just l)eyoind it play The genial breezes, ind( tlie cool brooks stray Into mielodious gisill,s of sweet solund, lWh dilst amiple floods of miellow sunshine fall Like a multe raini of rapture ove1 all. The face, tlhe beautiful face, E-er lhauntilln nily leart and( brain, Bringing ofttiines a d(Ireami of hleavein, Ofttimiies the pang of a pain Wlich dlartetlh dowi-n like a lightninig fl,ashl To tlle direadfutl deeps, Where the gems of a shipwrecked life Air cast, Aind its (lead cold pr-omiiise sleeps. Oft hath lie deemied the spell of darkness lost, And shlouted to the dayspring; a full g low [woe, ITatli rushed to clasp himi; but the slubtle Ulnvanquislied ever, with the nighlt of firost, RPegains its sad(l realmi. and with voice Sait l to the danin joy: " This life is Saith to thle dlawninlg joy: ";Thlis life is mline~'. ~'' Sweet face! slhall I imeet thee againi. Ini tlhe passionless land of palhnis, By the verge of Heaveii s enchanted streams In the huislh of its perfect calhnis; Or, forever and ever, and evermore, While the years depart, While the ages roll, 18 SONG. O-',- -4 11 0 I 7'. hei, 7'HE SIIAI)O If'. THIE }l7-IV'RP WINDS- UNIDEPR ASENTIVC1E. Still smiles the brave soutl. undivorced from hope! And, with unw-avering eye and warrior Ilnienl, WA-alks in the shadow, dauntless and serene, To test, tlhronugh hostile years, the ut most scope Of imal's endurance -- constant to essay ll hleights of patience free to feet of clay-. PLACE- Scotlan(t. TIMEi,- Thiriteentth (I'e I t II./. OFF! off! No treacherous priest for me! What's Heaven? whlat's Hell? Eternity! It hatlh no meaning to mile ear, Unless - Stay, father! (anst thou swear By holy Rood, that I slhall mieet hlimi there, whose crime miade mnurder sweet? Hi,i whose black soul I've hnrle(l be fore'. He's gone! IHow cold my dungeon floor! And the rack wrenches still! This hand, Which stiffened to a fire-lhot band( Of steel, crts l rcatg his base lrieatl out, They've foully mangled! See that gout Of blood there -thlere, too! What care I? It did its work well: let it lie! 5till siniles thlle brave soul, undivorced fromii hope! J'llt no-w, methiniks, the pale hope gath ers strengtlh; (r(l winds invade the silence; streamis, at length, FlashlI through the desert;'neath the sapphire cope ()f deepening heavens he hails a happier day, And the spent shadow mutely wanes ai-awy. I'd give teln mlortal lives, I trow, As full of sweets as mine of woe, To feel that quivering thlroat once more; To view the blue-tinged, strangling gore Spout from his lips! To watch the dim Film o'er those cruel eyeballs swi,, And the black anguish of his stare, Dashed blind with hlorror! Lords! be wvare Much trifling! Wc arc (logs, ye ken, Who yet may rise, and smiite like men. Tiil - winter winds may wildly rave, ltow n-ildly o'e r tlh y pl ac e of rest! Buit. lov-e! tlhoui lhast a lholier grave, Deep in a faithful hliuiiain breast. What's this? Ah, yes! the flowver I took From her! I think her dying look Baptized it, for it keeps so fair. I wonder if they decked her hfair With othler flowers like this, ere yet They lowered her beauty to the wet, Dark mould? If maiden dust to flown-eirs (Some say so) turnis, not all the b)oweis This spring shall warmn will equal thlios( To blossom from her pure repose! Tiere. the enil)alhnier, M\emoory, bends, Watcliing, withl softly-brIeathled sighs, Thle imystic light her genius lends To fadeless cheeks and tender eyes. lThere in a fathomless calm, serene, Thyv beauty keeps its saintly trace, The radiance of an angel mien, The rapture of a heavenly grace. And there, O gentlest love! remain ( No stormy passion round thee raves), Till, soul to soul, we meet again, Beyond this ghostly realm of graves. My nuptial night! G(od's blood! what right Itad I to nuptials? To the bright 19 U-,VDEI,' SEX7'EV,(-.'E. TIJE IT'I-VTEIL JVI-VD,5 IL-1 Y JVILDL Y PI A i IT". 1'0 UIfHF'UL P OEM,S. Keen joy that burns on wedded lips? MIv life-star could not break the eclipse NWherein'twas born! So thlat d(lark dooni AWliicli hounds me to a slhanieful tomib, Ordained that the fiend's trick they ultsed Slhotuld trap m-ie! Faitlh, love, peace Or Ofmasclse left to ll akedo so'ul, I'll strangle hiiin once moie; eniroll 3I3Ty ruthlless armiis r-ounid breast and tllroat, And wring fromii out his goige that note Of palsied fear! I'll (lo't, tlo' all Tlle (lev ils slhould pull m-ie back, and call Freslh tornlents on my anguished lhead: I)oubtless they'll take htis part instead. al)used, I woke to find my hleart bereft Of its o0le treasure! hliat was left? AWhat. but that mandate Vengeaince, hiissed W-ithl liot toligue tllro' a seething mist Of passioni; the fierce mancdate, " Kill? " Aye! but she, too, lay blauelled and still. Of )i iie, bleing devils, and hlie the worst; A prince amiionigst their tril)es acciir'st By tllis timne; for a imontll lhas sped, Beslhrew mie, since lie joined the dead, The damined dead! Full tinie I trow, For all the b)oull(ls of lhell to know That Satan's rivalled! Hark withlout! The gathering tramp, thle approaching slioldt Of thousands! Well, their scaffold's hiigli' Fair clhanice for all to see me (lie! Blalnchled on the couch I dreamed would be Ivy w-eddinrg couch! Oh, infamy! Hiis outrage smote her to the heart; It crashed the gates of life apart, WAhere througlh her shuddering soul took flight! But ere the (eathl-devw dimnimed her sight, She gave me, as I said, this flower, And -one long smile! To my last hour I've shrined her smile! If, if somc where There be a heaven, benign and fair, Its saints, I feel, must smile so there! TIIE glowing tints of a tropic eve, Burn on 0ler radiant cheek, And we know that lher voice is riclh and I low, 1 o~,v, Thouglh we never have heardl her speak; So full are those gracious veyes of liglht, That the blissful flooed runs o'er, And wherever her tranquil pathway tends A glory flits on before! Dread God! couldst thou have mnarked lly AvroIlg, Yet shlleathled thly lightning? I was strong And lusty as the hillside roe; Could w-ield the brand and bend the bowv So deftly, that his lordship deigned To show me favor! Was it feigned? I know not'! His laIst kindness took A strange shape truly; for it shook My hopes to atoms! Yet he fell Prone ith them! Shall?e meet in hell'? O! very grand(I are the city belles, Of a brilliant an(d stately miiien, As they walk the steps of the lang,uid dance, And flirt in the pauses between; [utit beneath the boughs of the hloary oak, Wlheni the minstrel fountains play, I thiink that the artless village girl Is sweeter by far than they. I ask again. Ha! if we do And there's a single nerve, or thew, I i 20 -a,- - I 0 TIIF L,'ILLAGE BEAUTY. O! very grand are the city belles, But their hearts are worni away By the keen-edgedl world, and their lives have lost The beauty and mirthli of MIay; They move where the sun and the starry denws RPeign not; they are haughty and bold, And they do not shrink fronm the cursed mart, Where faith is the slave of -old. I could not see my foe: but the whole space Was redolent of pestilence, and grace Of all things beautiful, and grand and free, Seemed lost in darkness evermore to, ine: I struggled with the invisible arm that wound So sternly round me, but could give no sound To the great agony that whelmed my soul In surges wilder than the eternal roll Of a w-or-ld's waters, thundering round the Pole. But the starry dews and the genial sun Have gladdened lhe guileless youth; And her blow is bright with the fluslx of hope, Her soul with the seal of truth; Her steps are beautiful oin the hills As the steps of an Orient morn, And Ruthl was never more fair to see Ini the midst of the autumn corn. Downward, still downward, the relent. less hand Pressed on my being, and the iron wand Of his malign enchantment struck my heart With a dull force that made the life-blood start Forever from its courses; then a sense Of coming rest, more dreamless and in tense Than ever wrapped mortality in still And throbless freedom from all thoughts of ill, Stole o'er the vanquished form and glim epering sig,ht, Till silence ruled, with nothingness and night! THE passionate sobs of the dear friends that calne To look their last upon mly living fiamne, And catch the fainting accents of my br-eath, That fluttered in the atmosphere of death, AWere hushed to silence, and the uncer tain lilght, That flickered o'er the arras to my sight, Grew paler and more tremulous, as life Suink'neath the power of that unequal strife, I DEA TR. 21 Which pits humanity a,ainst the spell Of one all flesh liatli found invincible! -4FTEP,, DE.4TH. S ON N AET S. f I 1)ff I (I SONNETS. And God's great pulses beat their music imiarlch. The heaven we worship dimily girt w-ith tears, The spirit-heaveni, what is it but a life, Lifting its soul beyond our mioital years ''lThat oft begin, and ever end withl strife: Strife we must pass to w,7in a happier heigllt, Nature but travails to reveal us - lig hllt. . - I)EATIT. TIIEN wlhence, 0 Death! thy dreariness? We know That every flower the breeze's flattering bi-eatlh Wooes to a bluslh, and love-like inur I 1111ing low, Dies but to imiultil)ly its bloom in death: The rill's glad, pr-att linig infancy, that fills The woodlands with its song of innocent glee, Is passing through the heart of shadowy hills, To swell the eternal manhood of the sea; And the great stars, Creation's minstrel fires Are rollin- toward the central source of lighlt, Where all their separate glory but ex pires To merge into one world's unbroken might; There is no death but change, soul claspeth soul, And all are portion of the immortal whole. OCTOBER. TIlE passionate sutiiinei's dead! the sky's aglowN\WitIli roseate fluslhes of matured desire, 'l'he -wil(s at eve are musical and low, As sw-eelpilig chords of a laimeninti ngi Ilye, Far up) amongi the pillared clouds of fire, AWhose poI)lp) of strange procession up w-ar(d rolls, A'ith gorgeous blazonry of pictured scrolls, To celebrate the slmmer's past renown; Ah, me} how regally the heavens look down, O'ershadowin-ig beautiful autumnal woods And harvest fields with hoarded in crease brown, And( deep-toned majesty of golden floods, That raise their soleimn dirges to the sky, To swell the purple pomnp that floatethl by. LIFE A-NVD DEA TH. I. - LIFE. SUFFERING! and yet majestical in pain; AMysterious! yet, like spring-shlowers in the sun, Veiling the light with their melodious rain, I~ife is a warp of gloom and glory spun; Its darkling phases are as clouds that mourn Beneath the loftier splendors of an archl Where deathless orbs in golden daylight burn, I 2(3 SONNETS.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Of our nmore gross perceptions. Oh, BECA-USE thley thought his doctrines were not just, Mankin(l assumed for him the chasten iiig rodl, Anid ty-rants r eared in pride, and strong ill lust, Wotund(led the noblest of the sons of God; The heart's most cherished benefactions riven, Basely they strove to humble and malign A soul lwhose chllarities were wide as hlea-en, lWhose (eeds, if not his doct-iiies, were divine; And inll the name of Him, whose sun sline warms The evil as the righlteous, deemed it g otl To wreak their bigotry's relentless storimis On one -whose nature was not uinder stood. Ah, well' God's ways are wondrous; it may be His seal lath not been set to man's decree. their strains Nerve and ennoble manhood! no sihrill cry, Set to a treble, tells of querulous woe; Yet numbers deep-voiced as the miighty inan in s Merge in the ringdove's plaining, or the siglh Of lovers whispering where sweet riwl lets flo. "NOJV, IVH1LE T'HE I?EAR-GUARI?D." Now, while the rear-guard of the flying year, nRugged December on the season's verge Marshals his pale days-to the mournful dirge Of mluffled winds in far-off forests dIrear, Good friend(l! turn with me to our in-door cheer; Draw niigh; tllhe huge flames roar upon the lheartlh, And this sly sparkler is of subtlest birth, And a rich vintage, poet souls hold dear; MNlark how the sweet rogue wooes us! Sit thee down, And we will quaff, and quaff, and drink our fill, Topping the spirits w-ith a Bacchanal crown, Till the funereal blast shlall wail no more, But silver-thlroated clarions seem to thrill, And shouts of triumph peal along the shore. POETS OF THE OLDEN TIlIE. TIIE brave old poets sillg of niobler themes Than thlose weak griefs which harass craven souls; The torrent of their lusty music rolls Not through dark valleys of disteiiinpered drealns, IB,ut murmiurous pastures lit by snilyi i streams; ()Or. rushing from some mountain heiglt of thought, Sw-ells to strange meaning that ourl minds have soulght Vainily to gather from the doubtful gleams $ "PENT IN THII,S (COJL[0ON SSPHEFRE." PENT in this conmlon slphlere of sensual shows, I pine for beauty; beauty of freslh mieni, And gentle utterance, and(I the clhan serene, Wher-ewitlh the hue of mystic dream-land glows; 26 SONNT,,'TS. SHELLE Y. BETW'E~l TN IE,NiS ILi'N SUN A.A-D f'/]L' N-k,IMW(IOON. 27 1 l,ine for!ulli lirs ic t-. reI)ose In whos(e fair lheaven a melioon of slla(ilowyy ()f low —voiced 11 watters. ill soLhe ricaln l he- roilm(l twe.n Wia(des tliroughi a fading fall of sunset 'lThe p-erfe'(t d(leine, andI this clot(led rain; [alm, s'eneoc Wh-lere droot)ing lotos-floweis. (listillig ()f love-'s sa(l loss. aud( passion's mourn- Gleam by the dirowsy streamilets sleep ftil tilloes: hath crown'(1, .A )leasanit counttry-, girt with twilight WVIile Care forgets to sigh, anld Peace calII. hatli balsaie(In 1IaiI. "BETIT-'EE THE SULVKEN SUN i-VD I TIIE NrE IV M1OON." BETIVEEN the sunken su11n and the new Alternates stormn with calni, and the loud( mloon. noon I stood in fields through lwhichl a rivulet With dewvy evening's soft and sacred ran lull: With scarce perceptible motion, not a Happy the heart that keeps its twn-iliglht span hour, Of its smooth surface trembling to the And, in the depthls of heavenly peace tune reclined, Of sunset breezes: "0 delicious boon," Loves to commune with thoughts of I cried, "of quiet wise is Nature's tender power; plan, Thoughts that ascend, like angels beaulWho, in her realm, as in the soul of tiful, man, A shining Jacob's ladder of the mind." SONNETS. The sunset girds mie like a gorgeous d(reamn Pregnant with splendors, by whose imar vellous spell, Senses and soul are flushed to one deep glowv, The golden mood of thoughts ineffal)le! ~- pleasant myths of Eld, why have ye fled? be earth has fallen fromn her blissful pli-iiie Of summer years, the dews of that sweet tithe Are witheredl on its garlandls sere and dead. No longer in the blue fields overhead WAe list the rustling of iimmortal wings, Or hail at eve the kindly visitings Of gentle Genii to fair fortunes wed: The seas have lost their Nereids, the sad streams Their gold-hlaired habitants, the inoun tains lone Those happy Oreads, and the blithesome tone Of Pan's soft pipe mielts only in our dreams; Fitfully fall the old faith's broken gleanms On our dull hearts, cold as sepulchral stone. "ALONG TIIE PA TU 7'1}' BLEEDIANG( FEE7'." ALI,ONG the path thy bleeding feet have trod, 0 Clristian iMotler! do the liartyr-yeals, Crowned with suffering through the nmist of tears [ God; Uplift their brows, thorn-cirledl, unto Most bitterly our Fatlher's chastening rodl Hath ruled within thy term of mor-tal (lays, Yet in thy soul spring up the tones of praise, Freely as flowers from out a burial-sold: Nor hath a tireless faith essayed in Xvaini 'To win from sorrow that diviner rest, Which, like a sunset, purpling through the rain Of dying storms, maketh thle darkness blest; Grief is transfigured, and dethroned Fe a rs, Pale in the glory beckoning from the West. 0 GOD.' ITHAT GLORIOUS SEDASOlVS BLESS THY IVORLD.' 0 GOD! what glorious seasons bless thy w-orld! bee! the tranced winds are nestling on the deep, The guardlian heavens unclouded vigil keep O'er the mutte earth; the beach birds' winigs are furled G(lost-like and gray, where the dim bil loN-s curled Lazily up the sea-strand, sink in sleep), bave when the random fish with light ning leap Flashes above them, the far sky's im pearled Inland, with lines of silvery smoke that gleamn Upward from quiet homesteads, thin and slow: " TOO OFT TIlE POET JI ELABORATE VEllSE." Too oft the poet in elaborate verse, Flushed with quaint images and gorgeous tropes, Casteth a doubtful light, which is not hope's, On the dark spot where Death hath sealed his curse In monumental silence. Nature starts Indignant from the sacrilege of words That ring so hollow, and forlornly girds Her great woe round her; there's no trick of Art's, 28 -4NClELVT MYTHS. 0 0 MOUNTAINV SOVNETS- COMiPOSED IN AUYTUMIN~ But shows most ghastly by a new-made tomb. [ see no balm in Gilead; he is lost, The beautiful soul that loved thee, thy life's blooim, Is w-ithlered( by the sudden blighting frost; O Grief! how mighty; Creeds! how vain ye are: Earth presses closely,- Heaven is cold and far. Of the clear stream beyond it, and the show Of endless wooded heights, circling the brown Autumnal fields, alive with billowy grain; Say! hast thou ever gazed on aught more fair In Europe, or the Orient? What do main (From India to the sunny slopes of Spain) Hath beauty, wed to grandeur'n the air, Blessed with all ampler chairm a Galore benignant reign? The rainbows of the heaven are not more rare, More various and more beautiful to view, Than these rich forest rainbows, dipped in dew Of morn and evening, glimmering every where From wooded dell to dark-blue moun tain mere; 0 Autumni! wondrous painter! every hue Of thy immortal pencil is steeped through With essence of divinity; how bare Beside thy coloring the poor shows of Art, Though Art were thrice inspired; in dreams alone (The loftiest dreams wherein the soul takes part) Of jasper pavements, and the sapphire throne Of Heaven, hath such unearthly bright ness shone To flush and thrill the visionary heart! COMPIOSED IN.4 UTUilEV. WITH these dead leaves stripped from a withered tree, And slowly fluttering round us, gentle friend, 31o IN -T.4L-V SO:ACNE TS. [AWritteni oln one of the Blue Ridge range of 3loun-taiins.] HIEnE let me pause by the lone eagle's nest, And breathe the golden sunlight and sweet air, AWhi(ch gird and gladden all this region fair Vith a perpetual benison of rest; Like a grand purpose that some god hath blest, The immemiorial mountain seems to rise, Yearning to overtop diviner skies, Though monarch of the pomps of East and AVest; And pondering here, the genius of the height Quickens my soul as if an angel spake, And( I can feel old chains of custom break, [ light; And old ambitions start to win the A calm resolve born with them, in whose might I thank thee, Heaven! that noble thoughts awake. Here, friend! upon this lofty ledge sit down, And view the beauteous prospect spread below, Around, above us; in the noonday glow How calm the landscape rests! yon dis tant town, Enwreathed with clouds of foliage like a crown i 29 Of rustic lionor; the soft, silvery flow SON'.ETS. Some faithless soul a sad presage might blend; To me they bring a happier augury; Lives that shall bloom in genial sun shine free, Nursed by the spell Love's dews and breezes send, And when a kindly Fate shall speak the end, Down dropping in Time's autumn si lently; -All hopes fulfilled, all passions duly blessed, Life's cup of gladness drained, except the lees, No more to fear or long for, but the rest Whiclh crowns existence with its dream less ease; Thus when our days are ripe, ol-h! let us fall Into that perfect Peace which waits for all! GREAT POETS A4:VD SMIALL. SHALL I not falter on melodious wing, In that my notes are weak and may not rise To those world-wide entrancing harmo nies, Which the great poets to the ages sing? Shall my thought's humble heaven no longer ring With pleasant lays, because the empyreal height Stretches beyond it, lifting to the light The anointed pinion of song's radiant king? [flight Ah! a false thought! the thrush her fitful Ventures in vernal dawns; a happy note Trills from the russet linnet's gentle throat, Though far above the eagle soars in might, And the glad skylark —an ethereal mote - S ings in h igh realms that mock our straining sight. JI Y S T'UD Y. TiIIs is my world! within these narrow walls, I own a princely service; the hot care And tumult of our frenzied life are here But as a ghost, and echo; what befalls In the far mart to mie is less than naught; I walk the fields of quiet Arcadies, And wander by the brink of hoary seas, Calmed to the tendance of untroubled thought: Or if a livelier humor should enhance The slow-timled pulse,'tis not for present strife, The sordid zeal with which our age is rife, Its mammoni conflicts crowned by fraud or chance, But gleamlugs of the lost, heroic life, Flashed through the gorgeous vistas of roiance. TO-. BELOVED! in this holy hush of night, I know that thou art looking to the South, Fair face and cordial brow bathed in the light Of tender Heavens, and o'er thy deli cate mouth A dewy gladness from thy dark eyes shed; O eloquent eyes! that on the evening spread The glory of a radiant world of dreams (The inner moonlight of the soul that dims This moonlight of the sense), and o'er thy head, Thrown back, as listening to a voice of hynins, Perchance in thine own spirit, violet gleams 30 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~I ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~~1 ___ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ji~~~~1~~~~ ~ ~~~~~ 7j~~~~~~~~I '~ {i~~~~~~~ ~~~'jj;'~~~~~~~ ~ - ~ TO W. H. H.-LINES. From modest flowers that deck the w-indow-bars, AWhile the winds sigh, and sing the far off streams, And a faint bliss seems dropping from the stars. O' pour thinie inmost soul upon the air And trust to heaven the secrets that recline In the sweet nunnery of thy virgin breast; Speak to the winds that wander every where,And sure must wander hither - the divine Contentmenlt, and( the infinite, deep rest Thrat swvay thy passionate being, and lift highpre To the calm realmn of Love's eternity, 'Tihe passive ocean of thy charmed thoughlt; And tell the aerial element to bear The biurden of thy whispered heart to I pray the angel in whose hands the suim Of mortal fates in mystic darkness lies, Th at to the soul which fills these deelp ening eyes, SLIn-croswstedlle and clear, the spirit of Song may c ome; That strong-winged fancies, wi thh i elo diouis hum Of pluanyd vanis, may touch to sweet sur prise His poet nature, bornii to glow and rise, And thrill to worslhil) though the world be dumb; That love, and will, and genius, all may blend To make his soul a guiding star of time, True to the purest thouLglht, the noblest end, Full of all richness, gentle, wise, com plete, In whose still heights and most ethereal clime, Beauty, and faith, and plastic passion meet. mne, 1By fairy alchemy of distance wrought To som —ethling, sacred as a saintly prayer, A spell to set my nobler nature free. How like a mighty picture, tint by tint, This marvellous world is opening to thy view! Wonders of earth and heaven; shapes bright and new, Strengthl, radiance, beauty, and all things that hint MIost of the primal glory, and the print Of angel footsteps; from the globe of dewd Tiny, but luminous, to the encircling blue, Unbounded, thou drink'st knowledge without stint; Like a pure blossom nursed by genial winds, Thy innocent life, expanding day by day, YE cannot add by any pile ye raise, One jot or tittle to the statesman's fame; That the world knows; to the far future days Belongs his glory, and its radiant flame Will burn, when ye are dead, decayed, forgot; Therefore, your opposition matters not; The thin-masked jealousies of present time, Unburied in his grave, survive to keep 31 Upsprings, spontaneous, to the perfect flower; Lost Eden-splendors round thy path way play, While o'er it rise and burn the starry Si-ns Which herald hope and joy to souls of power. 0 TO W. H. H. 6 L INF, S. SONNETS. In the broad world can point to nothing praise, And the rude clash of discord o'er his sleep; But for his great, wise acts, his faith sthubelim ie, All that the soul of genius sanctifies, T/hese mount where viler passions cannot Clilmb), T1he.se live whlere palsied malice faints aul (lies. Still nmust the common voice denounce tlhe deed, Thle colmmon heart swell with an out raged pride, That thle poor purchase of that paltry meel Hils country owed him should be thus denied; Shamie on the Senate! slhame on every Ahiclh dii not falter whenl recording there, Tlhe basest act achieved for many a year, To fire the scorn of the whole Southern land; Nor the South only, for our foes will cry Out on yo-e' petty pasteboard chivalry! The people who refuse to crownl the great And good w-ith honor, do themselves eclipse, And doubly shameless is the recreant St ate, Whose condemnation comes from her own lips. d one; No chartered corporations, no streets paved With very princel y sto ne-wo rk, no vast file Of warehousest no s lowly-hoarded pile Of pricele ss trea sure, no prloud sceptre wave(d O'er potent r ealms of stock, no tmagic art LavishedT on ctlrious gins o r works, of steaim; Only a few wild s on gs that mlie lt the heart,. Only the glow of sou e nuneartlsl r dieam, Eelsbodied and isi nge o l tal; elsa t are the se? Sneers the sage wols l; i as, scaffe oke, vain phantasies! Yet stock (tepreciates, even banks decay, oMercliant anld architect hiore low ly laid In pIurple palls, and the shrewd lords of trade Lament, for they were w iser in their (lay Th"an the clear sons of liglt; but prithee, how Dotlh stand the matter, whleni the years have fled; AWhiat means yon concourse tllronging whlere the (lead Old singer sle-eps; say! do they seek himi no\\w? Now that his (Idist is scattered on the br-eatl Of every wind that blows; what meanetl this? It means, thou sapient citizen, that death lleralds tlhe bard's true life, as with a kiss, AVakens two immortalities; then bow To the wN,orld's scorn, O poet, with calm brow. o "A-V IDLE POET DREAMIINVG." Ax- idle poet, dreaming in the sun, One given to muclh unhallowed va grancy Of thoughlt and step; who, when lihe comes to die. 32 P,aiiipant the hate he deemed his highest DRAMATIC SKETCHES. 6;-~Eo i~~ v I -, ..... ~,..... ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I!,... DRAMATIC SKETCHES. AN-TONiO MIELIDORILI. [AIONG the heroes of the modern Greek revolution, none, perhaps, were so distinguislhed for acts of individual daring, and a spirit of romantic and chivalrous adventure, as Captain AlItonio M\Ielid(lori, a native of Canldia. He waged against the Turks a partisan coinflict, which was ofteti eminently successful. His ownt deeds of strength, and reckless hardihood, miade him terrible to the foe, who were persuaded finally to look uponl him as one whose life was ~lcarmtted.." it did not prove so, however, as hlie fell a victim to thle rage and jealousy of some of his o\-it company-. Having been invited by the malcontents to a feast, Rousso (the chief of the e,iispirators. whoml Antonio at,pears to have rivalled successfully both in love and w-ar), wi-1ilst in the very- act of embracing the patriot, plunged a dagger into his b)osoim. There is a tradition that Antonio loved a beautiful maiden, Pliilota, w\1o1m1 in the stirring and anxious scenes of the revolution lie was ultimiately led to neglect, if not to forsake. A writer in "Cliatmbers' Journal T' has fromi this episode in the private career of the Greek partisan taken the material for a touching and graphic narrative, which has been closely, often literally fttloRwed in the conipositioni of thle enisuinig "sketch."]3 ANTONIO. Thou hast waited long, Philota, hast thou not? PIIIIl,OTA. 'Tis true, Antonio! but thou know'st an hour, Nay, a bare minute, drags the weariest ledngthi When thou art from me! ANTONIO. Thaniks, dearest, and, forgive me, I did but dream-i upon the hill-top yonder And, dreamiinig thus, forgot thee. PII I,OTA. SCEN-E I. [A place Ilot ftr from the summit of Moulnt Psiloriti iii the Isle of Canidia. Philota discov —ere(d withl a basket of grapl)es upoii hler hlead; sle looks eagerly upw-ard. Tiimie, a little before suniset.1 PIIILOTA. WN-iY cones lie not? Here on this emer ald sw-arl, Close to the cool shade of these ancient rocks, WAe have met, and fondly lingered in the sulnlset, Ev-e after eve. since first hlie said, " I love thee!' Nev-er, Antonio, hast thllou been ere now A loiterer! whlerefore should my heart beat fast. indI my breath thicken, and the dew of fear Stand chill upon my forehead? Is't an omen? ANTONIO. Nay, nay, I mean not that! thy face, thy smiles, Thy deep devotion, in my heart of hearts, I keep them sltrinied foreve r, but my thoughts Turned truant; whllo can hold his thoughts, Philota, In a leash alw ays? pritlhee reascend [At this miomiienzt Antonio is seen boutndling q?eickly (lot 7i tte 7oito tait it hlie reachlies I'lhilota and(l emibiraces her.] I I II I I Forgot me! D)AMLA AIAC SKEICH~ES. The mountain w-ith me, I would show tile place lWhicil tempted my weak tliloughts to wanader thus. [Tley reach the alost ele.ate(e })oetio I of thle ?1m0ou1t(tiir, wle/enice a ci(le circuit of laild (and sea becoles risiblbe.] I'IILIIOTA. How beautiful! how glorious! see, my love, Tllere's not a cloud, or slladow of cloud in hleaveni; Even ilele, the winls breathe faintly, and afar O'er the broad circuit of the watery calm, Peace broods upon the ocean, rules the air, And up the sunset's dazzling pathway w-alks Like a saint entering Paradise. ',Twese wseet, How sweet, Alntonio, amid scenes like thlese, To live and love forever L i' A-NTO-NIO Lqbse tly o Dost tlloll think so 9 Ay! - w-ell - perhaps PrIII,OTA. He lheedls me not, his eye Is cold and stern; what troubles thee, Antonio? ANTONIO. Trouble! I am not troubled. PIIILOTA. Bult tlhou art, I know thlou art; would'st thou deceive Plhilota? ANTONIO. Now by the saints, not so; dismiss the fear Which, like a tremulous shadow, breaks the calm Of those soft eyes! [aftel C p)CuOse] The matter, in brief, is this: Tracking our mountain patlhs at early dawn, WIitlh wolrds that sounded like tth e battl e tr um)ets; "It comles! " he cied; the ar-cloud rolls this w ay; We too slhall hear its thunders " PHII,OTA. Ay! and fee l Its bolts percha ne. - there's lightning in such clouel(s ANTONIO. What if there be! whlo would not brave thetmlleI all,All, for a cause like ouirs? Believe me, Love, Wahe stamte ibroe the brisk of teo ublo us tidlnes: All slhall be changed lhere: inei, - brave Grecian men,The blood of heroes in theme,-cannot pause, Storing the lhoney, harvesting the olive, Or humbly following the tamiie herds nflan~ s trade,] AWhilst Free doln calls to conflict. Look, Pllhilota! Dost mark yon lutrid flash across tlhe bay? Our soldiers test their cannoni! hark, belowX, The driumiis of Affenidouili- how they I'illg! Already thousands of bold mountaineers Have formed beneath his banniers; dost thou hear me? PI1 II,OTA. And wou,ildst thou wish to join them? Ali! I see, I see it all! —a trouble on thy br ow, Borne upward from the restless gloom within, IHath clouded o'er thy peace. I, -a frail giI'], And gifte(d only with the wealth of love, How can I satisfy the burning need Of a strong iman's ambition? Yes, tis so, "ris even so!-love is tle wA-omian's lheaven, Her hope, her god, her life-blood! yet Rousso - thou knowest him - hailed inoe , What is it blt a pasti, e? I What is it buit a pastimie? 36 from the rocks, ANTONIO JMELIDORL. Thrills at the deeds of heroes, -we may look For a "God speedl!" The prayers of nob)le IImein, The tears of women, l the whole world's apl)latise Do wait upon us! haethliinks I see th e en d, A f ree, gr and (C1omece onwr ealtl of Gtre cian States. Built upon chartered rights, - each sealed with blood! PIIIi,()TA. Enough! enough! Antonio, thou shalt go! Greec e is thy mistress, now. ,SCENE II. [The cottage of Plhilota, at the foot of Mount Psiloriti. Plcilota liscovere( at the window, looking out up)oin tim inighlt, which is bleak aid storistormy.] IIIIIL(OTA. Ha rk! how those lusty t r umpeters, the winds, Ur,e on the black battalions of the clouds; And see! the swollen ri vulets rushing down The sides of Psiloriti! Yesterday, 'Neath the clear calm of the serenest morn Earth ever stole from Paradise, they swept, Bright curves of laughing silver in the sunshine; But now, an overmastering rush of floods, They thunder to the heavens, that an swer back From the wild depths of gloom, —an awful tempest! [Entter ANTONIO hastily.] ANTONIO. Where is the priest, Plhilota? where is Andreas? Was he not here to-night? PIIILOTA. Ay! but left some half hour since! -NTONIO. Speak not thus Oh, speak not thus, Pliilota! I have loved Thee, only thee, - so help me, Virgin Mothler a But comlrdt(les from whose lips a taunt is bitter, Have dared to hint PHIILOTA. AVhat! .ANTONIO. That I chose to stav, Delving, like some base slave, our bar ren soil, When not a Sphlakiote that can carry armnls Has failed to seize them. Liars! pesti lent liars, I would have proved the falsehood were it not PHILOTA. For me- Phlilota! - well! I love thee dearly, Deeply, - God knows, - but I wvould have this love To crowvn thee as a garland, -not as a chain To bind and fetter —thou art free, An toulio! - AN'TONIO. But hast thou thought of all which fol lowsS this? Thou shalt be left alone, no bridal feast Can cheer the olive harvest! PHILOTA. I have thought, And am determined; - thou art free, Antonio! ANTONIO. Oh, thanks, thanks, thanks! - lift up thy hopes, Philota, Up to the height of mine! our cause is just, And a just Fate shall guard it; where soe'er Free thought finds utterance, and the patriot-soul 37 DRI)AIA TIC SKi,7i'CIE S. A&NTONIO. What say you? Oh,,he poor father!- thlen'tw-as liiiii I saw Pent'tw ixt the mountain torrents; hlie is lost! The good ol(l man!-anld yet, Inot so, niot so! Give mie yoI oaken staff, - and, hold; a f lask Of the best v-intage; I'll be back ainon, Aniid the dear farther wvitlh miie: ll()t'ss(). h syliv, whNlat nieans thlis? I looked for kiii(llie r NeNltuole! AVlWerefore, Pousso? What thotu hlast askedl, I grait, -i)ro tectiou, shlelter; Durst tlhou claiimi miiore than tlhese? IIO -'SS(). I' faithl thly teni-per is niost stIrange ali( waywair(d! Because, soiie iiiontlis agone, not (Iiiit( imyself, I veittire(d at the lharvest of tlhe, olive, Upon one innocent lil)(berty 1'111I,(:)TlA. No liberty, Witlh miie, at least, bol(hl iman! is rate(d tlus! Exit Anutonio. Philota kneels bef'ore an imaicege *C' the a'i ii'l, ad Pi-aysj,) the sf,'e,ty, of eIhe lover. 4.t'er the lapse of soie aimiuttes, enter p 1Jot,'so stealthilty, Iropp)ed it a cloak, Zihichi p(tatly concal,ts hIisfeatures.] ntortSsso [acsidle ]. Faitlih! a pretty picture! Now, were I w-hiat fools call poetical, 1'd worship iher, whilst she adlores the saint,A lovelier saint herself, and nearer truly 'lo the just standard of dlivinityi Than yonder painted image; there's the curve, The old Greek curve, in the voluptuous swell Of those full lips; the passion in hlelr eyes Is shadowed off to melancholy nieaniniig, Only to waken to meridian life, AWhen a like passion touches it to flame. PIIILOTA [I ip'(yiln]. Oh, mierciful Mother! save him,,- save Antonio! iiousso. [oside]. Oh, potent Devil! claimn himii, -claim Antonio! What! shall this inalapert boy dispute my love" t L' SS 0. I do repeat, that I was not imiyself; Blame the lhot wine of Cyprus; spare your slave! [Kneelixty.] lcoussO. [Ilota; But one who stoops to con(lii(uer, fair PhiIf I have knelt,'tis only that I may R ise thus, ai(nd clasp thee! 1lol(l, no foolish clries, No waeak, vaili strugglings! Tliiiik'st tlhou that the stormi Pealing adowii the miountain's'Llrged steeps Can bear these feeble wailings to thy friends? Come, come, Plilota!-if thou coull'st believe it, I am the very wvortliest of thy vassals: List for an instant, while I paint the beauty Of a far Eden waiting for the light, The sundawn of thine eyes: Amid the waves Of the AEgean, bosomed in the calni Of ever-d(unicg sumimer, sleeps an isle Whereon i tle ocean ripp les int o lusiC; Through whose luxuriant wilderness of blooms, [Philota, risinrl, (liscorers Pousso, tow?ardsb(i iwhoni (mistalkiig himi for Aintoito), she r7ctshes, as if rabout to cast hersel,f' ito his ariets, bett eliscorericig her error, she shriil,'s back-.] I'HILOTA. You here! i Pou,sso [advCtaciiJl. I I crave protection, shelter, - may I stay? e PHILOTA. At a safe distance, Sir! 38 I'IIILOTA. A slave, in(leecl! - I'OUSSO. A4VT'O iO L'LIDORI. The soft winds sigh their breath away in dreams, Where - (the deuce take me! I forget mly part)}Where - where - where - i' sooth, a place To live, to love, to die in, and revisit From the sad vale of shadows, with a touch Of mortal fondness, overmastering death: Wilt thou go thither with me? Nay, thou must! The general limit of our mortal lives, And thou be made to pass through all extremes Of multiform experience, it could never Enter thy sordid soul to comprehend! ROUSSO. Bravely delivered! by my soul, I think We both make good declaimers! Where did'st learn That pretty speech, Philota? PI'-11LOTA. Wilt thoui leave me? [4s I'oisso attempts to carry Philota from the alpartment, she recorers, and, by a sudden s eir,)rt, relectses herself fromn his arms.] RouMsso. Pshaw! thou art less than courteous. Leave thee? no! I will not leave thee! Hark ye, my proud damsel, I am not one with whom'tis safe to trifle, Thou knowest, or shalt know this; so, mark my words, Long have I wooed thee fairly, would have won thee, Yea, and endowed thee with both wealth and station; Twice hast thou heard my proffer, twice with loathing Spurned it, and me; I shall not woo thee thrice With honeyed words; no,'tis the strong ar m n ow. I am prepared for all; come on! ROUSSO. Par-don, Philota!'tis my eager love Which thus bath urged me on; thou tremblest! what? I would not make thee fear me. I'IIILOTA. Fear! fear! If my cheek pales, it is not cowardice That plays the tyrant to the exiled blood' If my framue trembles, there are other imoods Than that thou speak'st of, to unstring its firmness; Thy presence brings no terrors; dost thou talk Of fear to a Greek woman? NOUSSO. No! no! not fear, but love! [He seizes Philota a seco7zl time, but enter on the instant A4ntonio, with the Alonk Aindreas leaning upon him.] PHILOTA [faintly]. Saved! saved! PHILOTA. Man, man! I pray thee Blaspheme not thus! what canst thou know of love? 'Tis true thou speak'st it boldly; from thy lips The word falls with a rounded fullness off, And yet, believe me, thou hast used a phrase, (A sacred phrase, and wretchedly pro faned), Which, were thy years thrice lengthened out beyond ANTONIO. Ha, Rousso, I have heard it whispered oft Amongst thy watchful brethren in this isle, That underneath that smooth and flatter ing front There lurked a mine of blackest villany! Faith! I denied it once; what shall I say When next the public voice decries you, sir? 39 DPD,tVATIC SKETCHES. Ye nightly pray to heaven, whose name your infants Lisp in their very slumbers, hath be tirayed us! Hold! hear me out! I am no dubious witness; Thrice, whilst the battle raged along our fraont, I saw the traitor creeping like a dog Between the Turkish outposts! A jest! I do assure you but a jest! This cloak, which in your self-devoted flight To rescue the dear father, Andreas (How glad I am to see his saintship safe), You dropped some furlongs from the mountain's base, I cast, in sportive fashion, on my person, And deeming that Philota would rejoice To hear that thou had'st so far braved the force O' th' treacherous elements, I called upon her; She did me the vast honor to confound Your humble servant with Antonio, And'ere I was aware, spralng to my arms, With such a blinded ecstasy of rapture, That I had wellnigh sunk into the earth, From the mere stress of native modesty! A jest, a jest, and nothing but a jest. ANTON-Io. Such jesting may be dangerous, - be wvare! It is false! Here is your leader, Sphakiotes; what base s landerer Dares to pronounce nme traitor? I but paused To save this weeping innocent, whose mother Fell by some coward's sword! Ha, Sphakiotes, see, The noble MAelidori waxes tender, Soft as a woman! he must love the Moslem, VWho fosters thus their offspring! by the saints A lusty brat! He'll thrive, good friends, believe me, And grow betimes, to cut our infants' throats! [A year is supposed to have elapsed. The town of Sphakia after nightfall. Enter confusedly a band of Sphlakiote soldiers, with Roussoamongst them. The streets are crowsded with women, many of whom are heard lamenting the death of Antonio Melidori.] Let himn who speaks stand forth; I would confront My bold accuser. What! hlie clings to the dark! Fit place for lies and liars! Friends, I scorn To parley with this viper; there's a way, One only way, to deal with reptiles, cr ush thenl, Thus, thus, and thus, When they have crawled too near us; [Stamping violently upon the earth.] -P,ousso [in a disgitised voice]. Why will ye clamor thus, ye foolish jades? Your handsome favorite, your renowned commander, Is no more dead than I am! A WOMAN. Say'st thou so? Where then is -lelidori? Rousso [still dlisguiising his voice]. Would'st thou learn? Women of Sphakia, your immaculate captain, He for whose welfare, upon bended knees, Till then, why let the ugly beasts hiss 40 P"OUSSO. [Anto?ilo appears in the rear, with a child in his a?,?iis.] ANTONIO. ROUSSO. SCENE 111. ANTONIO. 011, And spit their harmless venom. Lj — ii;; __!;1$$L{i Ii> I.IH' A I[I~~) X~ I"111\"1]I I'[. I \V,I,,I ~):4I - I \, I - I I:I, I| ~ — -/-:-.: —— i~." -:-''::. 4 N].. O:t;' - - )OL 7 Is there not one amongst ye to lwhose tein(lalnce I mnay coiiimit this trembling casta xw-ay? PIIILOTA [reilCd]. Give me the chill, - I'll nurture him witlI lo -e, And gentlest usage. ANTON-IO |0t(t~ti1 ]. IIea,veins! lwhat voice is that? You here, Plilota? 1 had 1hoped you dwselt, Safely within the close heart of the miiouint~ains! PIIILOTA. The mountains are not safe. ANTONIO. Why then (lid'st thou Keep such strict silence? Answer i11e, Plhilota, How hlast thou lived. This peasant's dress PtIIILO'1T. Is fittest For me, Antonio, - by lly lhandliwork, And(l daily lalbor, I InowN ear n llmy biead. - For w-as it mieet anl unknown peasant girl Should claim. as her betrothed, great :3[elidlori, Captain of',phlalkia,? ATON10AIO. O0, thou generous heart! But stay.,- the rabble)l)l must not catcli our w,~ords; Take thou the b)abe. -i-under the city wi-alls I'll'neet thiee, in tlie, 7Iloajnling,. SC(-s EN E I V. [A place under the city walls, - time, an houir after stu,~set.] aANTONIO, c bitecili I'IIILOTA CO)I Itow1 kind t1lhou art! nI ILi,OT A. I b)uit obeyed -your ]'nandate! fTurtni,g to the wome~.] Alotlhers. ei es. .,laiclen7 of Sph akia, are tlhe]'e ]one aimongst ye R1ea(lv to take this poor unfortunate? ,Just for miyv sake, fair couuitr-y-oiiieii, list, List to the blesscd wvord: -" The merci- i ful ,Slhall obtain ]iierxcN-! IItOU 9'(). Ileed lilni not, I say, But seize the inifidel wl1elp, and let him rock ionais On a steel bayonet! What' have we re pelle(l The inv-ading foe, exteriliiiated -lwholly IIis forces aiintl his empiire, that w-e ldare Cherish his etibs aiiolig IIs? —and for whlat? Just for his sake, fair coiintrywonmen,i-oloea, - his, Anl(1 liiereT'c\S W lhlo slhow-ed mercy to ourn children. AVlieni the Tturk rav-agedl Scio? The y-olmig dev-il.Hear how lie shrieks!lo! send him dow-ni to hell! DoAiwn to his fatlher! hl's a grateful spir'it. And thlankful for stmall fav-ors! [The ciowd!,etri) to mrIurr,i?l. etd liove thireat i;inily towIo'dtis ANT )\ I1).] tA-TOX-IO. Slhami-e, -upon you! Though the poor boy werefifty timies a 5lIosleito. I'll rear himi as imy o-wn' lie shall not perishl' Perclhance, A-lwho knows, w-lenii I have (died for yon, For vou, and Grecian liberty, this babe, R)eared as a Gieek. imay vet avenge my deatlh. As none of you,l false baretlhren, dare av-enge it! Once more I sa -— [othlers, wives, PI niai,.ts of Sphiaki,a, 41 DRAMATIC SKLNT'CHErS. Yes, far mnore so than thou art: [_lf'teo(I i ( t hf,sC. I -Did'st thoen know The terril)ble] life I lead in this dread war fare, AN-TO-NIO. Nay, -hy so cold'? my trothl is thine, Plhilota, Dost thou reimemiber? PIIILOTA. Would'st thon have me (do so? .IethougIlt that dreaim -vas over, — by thiy wAl-sh. A-NTON-I(). By heaven! I lien-eve sai(i so! i' I ILOTA. Thr-oughi Nw-liat an atmosphere of blood and carnage It is my doom to move, as through the air Of some plague-stricken city, thick with curses; Did'st know the numberless dangers, that like demons (M\any unseen, —and therefore doubly fearful), WVhich hover'round the soldier, hour by hour O'ershladowing life with the black gloom of death; Dicl'st know the coarse companions, the rude manners Of vile extortioners, bent alone on prey, eAnd personal profit, and the thousand evils Gendered of strife, and strife's unhal lowed passions, O, thou woilld'st shrink from following such base courses, Even as an angel from the brink of hell! Yet thy heart, Thy heart, AiItonio, spake the keen de sire, I Althloulgh thly lips kept silence; -I have learnedf To read thy spirit like an open book, And canlnot be deceived; - all's chlanged( witlh us; Never again, as in the tiIme that's past, Shlall w-e, hand linked in hand, explore the vales, Or w-alk the shiiniig lill-tops; thou hast risen Far, far above iiiy level; a great man, Among the greatest, - thou wert mad t' espouse A lhimnble girl like ime I ask it not; Ivy love but burdens tlhy aspiring hopes, So. I beseech thee, cdw-ell no more upon it: Antonio, for thy welfare I would give -Iy sotl's life; shlall I then refuse to yield A- personal joy, that thlou may'st wina and w-ed The imlmortal virgin -Glory? Dream o it not! Oh! dreaml it not! Tlhou wrong'st my love, andl hast de ceived thyself; yWhere'er thllou art, to me that place is heaven'Antonio, God alone, God and my soul Knoiow what I might,, and would have been to tlhee! I would have shared thy fortunes, joined my fate For weal or woe, for honlor or disgrace, For life or death to thline; have tracked thy steps, (If need it were,) through seas of blood a nd carnage, Strengtheneed thy weakness, buoyed thy sinking hopes, -N'or, at the worst, have shed one wo Iiian's tear ANTONIO.myft Now, gracious God, forgive me! It -ere presumption, should I kiss thy feet, Thou puire, -unselfish w omani! yet thy words Are true, too true, and I dare not gain say tlhem. One thing believe, Philota, I am wretched, I 42 I PIIILOTA. AS7OVIO V ELIDORI0. h\Viereby Aitoliio saved him; 1'11 be lapI)y, h11, trust me, Lov-e! so very, very llap)l)y! AN'TONI10. Then be it so, I'liilota. I w-ould bless tll(t,'' 3But amn nlot worthly; still, thou slialt be blessed. P'lIII,OTA'.\ Anld tlhou, too, if tlhe V'ir gini hear my prayer-s; bAndl now that we are frie(ilIls, )ltt friendtls, tlhoug,hl firm nels, lBeseech thlee, list lmy tidiiigs. There's a foe, A deadly, treacherous foe in thline onlni cam-p, And one who vow-s thy l'uilu; it is Iotisso; loThou knowest lhow first lIis enivious, bit ter tenpler Was stung to liatired; since that time, thlly wNill Ilathl often claslhed wvitlh his; besides, tlhv famil(e I L these fierce wars liatli far o'ertoppeT his credit; So lie has sworn thy death; the voice wa'-1s hiis, 'I'hat goalded on thy soldiers to rebellion; -(en, as I t hreaded my inc(rtairs teath wN-ay, Az short lhour si nce, tltroutyge the ( lark str eets of Spllakiat I lheard tliy name in whlispers; twio dim forms (.\fen, as I kniewn by their hioarse tones,) conferred With hurried, stealtlhy,estures, and one sen~tence( Startled me like a kn(ell:-"TTIis tomb is op-ell", A deep voice sai(d; " Antonio's tomb is opell!" Oh, then, b)eN-ar-e. As lowvly as thou (leem-n'st li.e, I'll watch above thy safety; the soft dove .lay w,varni the eagle of the m lidniiglht spoileri! blessed thy cause, I woul(d have strivenl to miake miy spirit w-ortlhiy To imounit w-ith thee; so, -whlen the oirb(l d glory Shoue like the fire of sunrise round thy bi-oNN-, No man daie say that wvitl that lustre llingle(d One blu)isil of shame for Meli(ldori's wife! Thils nighlt llave been, and this shlall nie\et'l be. [ l!'ihl!/J. I I' tli namne of ileicy, by thy iiiotiher's soll. And( tll le ari past, I pray thee leave lie 110WoNAWliile still thou lov'st nie (dost thou not?) a little. _-ANTON-IO. And( tlhou - and thou, Phlilota? PIIILOTA. I shall (INNell In peace; [aside] ay! broken hearts are peacefutl! A-NTO-NIO. But where? PIIILOTA.Whlat matter where, so that I live in peace? Grieve not, -Antonlio. In miy hlumble station One tlhouhlit shall bring content;- " lie was not false," No miortal maildeil stole Antonio's heart! ANTONIO. B1lessed words! 'Tis true I love but thee! PIIILOTA. Then do not sorrow. Love, I forgive thee; thou hast wronge(Il mhe not. And for the child- ah, I shlall d(reamn it tline; Tend it as thine, and when the years have ripened That infant soul,'tis mine to lead to virtthe, I'll teach the boy how noble was the act 4'0' To sliake tliv n-ianlioo(',. llad heave i 4i)IA4 J IIA U' KSI~~_ &It'. AFFENDOUI,I. Thley givc A solet h-i feast of unity ando f ieilslhip, 'l'o wlhichl thou art invited. Go, 1 char-ge tliee. I alii here To spelnd( theim hotli for thee. Butl har k! thliv naliie Is shouted by thly comrades iii the valley. The hour hlas come that parts us. Fare tlcee wa-ell! ANTO-NIO. TIust nme, I s11all be thlere, what (lay's apploinited Whereoni to lhold this festival of love? AFFENI)()UI,I. This very day; tliou llox-vest tle caimp of Rousso? [.>'he,Jicc h E/b~, her hand.] -A-TONIO. 'Tw-as not our wolnt to part iin this cold faslio;ii Conle. one lmoie kiss. Philota! let ince feel Ne N-were indeed betiothed(l; one last, last kiss! [ The/y e(lb)itcr (t1(1i plrt.] ANTONIO. AY! I'11 be t11ere anon! [LEvxit 4Atoiiio. Eater, (tf(tei (t rief i terca t, Il'iilot((, wtith a hutrrlieda aa ci oti s iiieC~.] SCE —N-E'. [an apartment iii the house of Affe(ldotili, the (Governor-General of Caudia. Enter Au-i tolnio, anid Affend(louli, coniversing.] AFFENDOULI. These private bickerings are the fruitful cause Of all disgrace andl failure; let us endt theml! I'IIILOTA'. Oh, pardon, p-ard(oin! ilost graciouis (Goveirnor! hbut I comie to seek Ant -,\~lt —, thalt is, the (Captain l toe idori, W~ithl tidlings of gravre;import. Ila! Thlou luckless imessenger! he hlas de 1)al Ite(l. -,A-TON IO. Most w-illinilgly! I lhave no feud( with ally, SavingI one qiiarrel, forced(I upon ime, chief! AFFENDOULI. True. true! t)it evene now a courier waits, Charged w-itl a special message of good w-ill, Froii I'lousso, aid(I his brother, Anag nosti: They- sa, s AV(e plead for peace! all per sonal hate Hencefortlh )e iquelled hetween us:; -we w olll(l join Our' troop to MAelidori's. and our banliners Wav-e side hy side wAith his." Accept their proffer! I'nIII,(h)T [ih l t.shiiii(i (10t4. Tlheni is lhe lost,! () melrciful (;od, pro tect us! [wou open solc i[ a w -ool,- t'Tlles rrangle d for a i l- q uet,-lIottsso, Anagnosti, oio 5Ielidloi, ll(l tlir f(llowOers, discover ed feast A ANO.'TI. N sohliei' s life foire ve i! f ree to p1ass lii fe(ast or fiay! liowv glorious this wvild ),tlal(lllet Comipare(d to those dull, forlmal feasts of 01(l, I wvill! AFFENDOULT,I. To sh lo- tlh o art sinere,i fail not to test Their hlospitalityo 44 -V-',-TO-NIO. iitt tliy oin-n life ai,.d safety A N T 0 T -'O. I'llILOT-. -, F l) () U 1, 1. Goiie lll-illl()Illk Wliei-e, wliei.("? AFFI-NI)OI'T,I. 'ro f(,ast in-itli 1),ousso. S(IENE -\,I. -1il -NTO —N'10. ANlTONi O MIELIDORI. Held at the olive harvest! Speak, An tonio. Give us thy thloulght upon it: what! art silent? P-OUSSO. IUrge him no more; perchance Antonio pines For the sweet quiet of that mountain life, 1-ihichl thou last called so dull; its days of dream, Its nights of warm voluptuous dalliance! ANTONIO. No. no. by heaven! those times are dead to me; Thley had their pleasures, but not one to match The keen delights of glory, the true honor Whichl follows patriot service. PI OUSSO. Gallant words, Brave. and high-sounding; but for me and mine, Ae (To not fight for shadows! ANTONIO [coldly]. I'm at fault, Not clearly comprehending, sir, your meaning. ROUSSO. Oh' thou dost well to speak of glory, honors, WAVe know what rich rewards await thee, chief, WAhen the wNar's ended; spoils, and wealth and b(eauity\. But yestermiorn, I sawv thy winsome lady. The bride to be. old Affeindouli's daugh ter. Nay. shrink not, man, she is a lovely maild, Fair as her fatlher's generous; what an eye! Half arlch, half languishing; and what a breast! That heaves as'twould burst outward to the days, And strike men mad with its whvlite panting passion! No lovelier woman lives, unless, unlessIt be that poor young thing who doted on thee, Before the war, — what was her name? Philota? ANTONIO. Thy thoughts run on fair damsels; let us talk Like soldiers, not like brain-sick boys in love. P.OUSSO. With all my heart; only, one pledge to thee, And Affendouli's daughter! ANTONIO. I have borne This jesting with the patience of a saint, But now'tis stretched to license. Prithee, cease! ROUSSO. God, how he winces! if Philota - ANTONIO. Villain! Utter that sacred name again R,,ousso [rising suddenly and drawing his dagger]. Oh, ho! Wilt fight, wilt fight! I' m ready for thee; come. ANTONIO [aside]. (He shall not trap me thus.) Thou art my host; 'Twere shame, yea, bitter shame, this brawl should end In blows and bloodshed! when the time befits, [To Rousso]. Doubt not that I shall call thee to ae count For this day's work; meanwhile I leave a board Where clownish insult poisons all your cups! [As he is (albo1tt to dep]art, Anzaflniosti acpproaches, wvith a/l air of conciliation.] 45 st(.)': /hile it the act of eiib?racic(/, 1he st W nas himih iil the sidle. Philota rushes hue)ol thle sceete, ~ with qC cru (f Ctgo~ go, anid thtr-ow s hersel~ beside Astto;lio, hlose head( she SltJ)])O'tS.] We will not part again. I lbad a foe, Hiis namie is Rousso; but we are so haplpy, Let lls forgive all foes; invite himii thither, PIIlLOTA [twee-pi71|. Ile breaks miy heart PHILOTA. Too late! 0 God, too late! Hle faints, lie dies! lvhy stare ye thus upon Ius, cruel mien?i Wine, winle, aniother cup, lhow slow -ye move! 31v scarf is drenched w-ith blood, -ye pitiless fools! Will Iot a creature loan me whlerew-ithlal To biind his \wretched w7ound up? There, 'tis stanched, Anid lie revives! Antonio, speak to meoe, I ami Phlilota! A-TO-IO [his imiiid aediileeiniqi]. Where hlast thlou been, imy love, this w-eary time? Ami I not true? I charge thee, hleed them not! The girl is nothing to mne; Rousso's tonli-gte, His sharp false tongue first joined our names together' She loves another, and I love but thee; Draw nearer, let me whisper. I have dreamed, Oh, such a dream! the valleys flowed with blood, And ruin compassed all our island round, And ev-ery town was sacked, and, hark ye, nearer! I saw a mother murdered by a knave, A coward knave, because she would not yielld Her body to him; but I saved her child, ANTONIO. IloW keen the wind is! Keen, keeni, and clhill; it wsas not wont to blow So coldly at this seasoni: I amli sick, Yea, sick of very ioy; but joy kills not; ily lids asce heavy; I would sleep, Plhilota. Wake imie at early dawni-; I told my motler, That I would bring, thee home, to-mor row noloin. [Tlle hall of a cotgautry houdse in Westmoreland, surrotunlde(d Aw-ith portraits of the M.... faimiily. Allain Herbert, anid Jocelyni, ain old dom-testic, are seen standing before the likeness of a lady, younig, aiid wonderfully fair.] v l Iie d SEblT. The calnvas speaks! JOCEI,YX. Ay, sir,'tis very like; Was she not beauitiful? IIEPRB1ERT. Was; yes, and is; She had not lost one bloom when late I - saw her. [He dies.] ALLA-lN JIERBERT. SCE,NE 1. "Tlle canvas speaks." lighlt' 1Thus Al-ill shie look, o01 resurrection miorninig. wf~ JOCELY- [q.side]. Vlas. p)oor gentlem-tan-! howv many loved -ld( lo-ed lhei vailly! Pardon, sir, your namIe? tlll-es, Thelc rohe of dleatli was fluttered l)y thl w\illd7 A low- sa(l w-ailig win,il, that sw,ept asi(le Thle (Irapery for a moimenit, a(nd I inarke(l Thle glilimmer of the gold-edged pages p~lacedl liglit on her )osonii! MIaster, you are pale, You tremil)le(; I hlave rudely touchled tlhe springi Of somie deep-seated( sorirrow! Yes, ol mall; fr sorrovw most iunlike to omimnon griefs, That pass like clotu(ds or slhadowvs; m ine is imiingled AW itli the dark liues of tireachlery and re morse; A rayless, l)lank eclipse, thlrouglh whlicl I w and(ler, Accursed anId hopeless; somietimes in a vision Comes the sw-eet face of hler I foully wroniged,(, And stabs Ine witlh a smile! JOCEILY,N. Did('st wrong hler, Sir'? Didl'st wvrong my lady? IIER,BERT. Lea(ld me to the grave; I know'tis near at l hangl. JOCELYN. The grae! wliat grav(? Nol'eover, -if youi wN-ronge,(dl lher HERBERPT. AIv- naiie is Allanl Hierbert. JOCELY-NI. IIerbert, Herbert! 0l lere havit-e I hleard that dainty nlamee b)efore? (1tsitg) Ohl. iiow- I hlave it; mIIy younig mistress, sir,. lhe wN-ho is dead, was woont to read a book A delicate gold-edged volunie, that I'mi sll'e Bore sole si ie n iame withlin- it; slhe -woull( sit Btenieaitli you grap,le vine trellis towvard the south wogd Tlis winilow, sir, colmmands it), andc for hours, NaI dal-s. boend o'er hler favorite pages; onice slie left the b)ook behind her, and I saw its leiv-es -were touchled with tears. IIEI'IBP,EET. Wlhere is it now? That book your mistress loved? Let mie ehlold it! JOIn sooth, sr I ae neer seen it since. LY, I~n sooth, si"r, I hiave niever seen it since. I I wNext to some stream of Lethe, and re pos(e lin everlasting sltuibeirs! [lelt(or JOCET,Y-N.] wN-retched; Once miore. I pray thee, showv mne where shle sleeps. I m1ust obey him1; this way,- follow me. Come, let us henice! the d(larkness creeps upon us; See, Sir! there's not a spark of sunset left In all the w-,aingii AWest. [A forest. —Deep ini thle shIadle a single monlumen t tpl)pears, covered witll A-iltl-flowrses anti roses. IT EPIEP,T. Well, Im k at o f tme at! I live in dlarkness,- the liglht b)urn-ls my spirit, It imiocks and torturies mne! Begone, I 'Tis fit slie should I)e huried( in this )place So fragrant a(nd so p-)eaceflll (. miy love! Thou lhast grown dull of hlearingl!' I mlay call Till the lone echoes shiver with tlhy naille, Thoui wilt not heed mne; dust, dust, dust indeed! An(l tlhou — miore glorious thani the imorniniig star'; Alore tenlder than the love-light of tllhe eve! They tell mie tlhou shlalt rise again, Christ's i)rid e, Not miine, most beatitiful, yet clhanged; 1'erchance I shall not know thlee, orI per chllalnce, The lIulman love which made thline eyes like heaven'LIy heavene of hope and wolrship - shall be lost In somie div-iner splendor! all is hiushied, No smallest whisper trembles gently lup Fromi the d(leepl) grave to soothle me;'tis ini vain say, Anld leave iie. to the (lismnal shiade thou fear est! t o m('E gI,oSl. Good Sir. be counselled -stay not in the wvood; Thine eve is troubled, and thy visage wveay y;'Tis a raslh venture! IIEPREBEI,T. Sootlh to say, I tlhank thee; Thou could'st not serve long in the lhouse hiold blessed By her most merciful presence, and not Some ten(lermess of temnper; -take my thanks! Yet will I stay in tliis same dreary wood, Anid watch until the night is overpast. JOCELY —N. ,JOC,'ELY —N. ,SCE-NE 11. IIEI'BEI''T [(IIOIICI. iocillyin. Tliou'lt find it lonely. THE CONS PIRIA'TOR. She! Oh, thllou hlast a ladly-love! Cruel! Wotl(dst tlhout put by my passion thus, AVithi a feigned( jest? Catlharine, I stake my all, -Manhllood's strongI hopes and purpose, the hleart's wealth, -And tlhe mind's store of lhai-d-bougllt lor-e, my peace Of conscience, and mly soutl's imnlioital life, To lift thee to the sumnmit of thy wisll; (Oh!' I have proved thlee, and( I kniow thy thoughts), And yet, tllou feign,-iest ignoirance! CATItARINE. Dear De Mlalpas, Forgive me! let us both throw by the mlash! I hate the qutleen; even in our girlish days, She was my rival; her milld-manllnered arts Stole suitors from me; the old( priest, our teacher, T'lhoug,li I eclipsed her ever in the school, And shaimie(d her dullness with keen witted words And quicker apprehlension, shone on her With sunny aspect, sleeked her golden lhair, Fondled and soothed and petted, whlilst for me, The apter schlolar, lie reserved harsh looks, And harsher tones; (well, the old fool is dead! In after timi-e, some friend of holy church, Some zealous friend, proved that his saintship taug,Iht Schism and heresy, andl so-lie perished)! But for this queen, this Eleanor! our souls Nursed yearly a more fixed hostility; We sat togethler at the knightly jousts, And watched thle conflict with high beatinig hearts, IIEPRBEIRlT. Oli, I have imyv tllou-ghlts, A stirring comipany, that iiever- slunibeir. JOCELY-N. llhy, w-orse and -worse' I've hleard, suchl restless thouglhts Engelnder a sore siclkiess IIEIBEI,IT. Of the mind; Yet is iny case already d(lesperate, I'ast hlealing, and past comfort. Go tlhy wn-ay. hliou kind old Imani, tlhoui canst not slhake my purpose, But w-heln the last star wi-anes before the dawn tytogt) (laiN-ii, Come back; my nighlt wn-ill then be over past, And my w-atchl ended; till that lhour, farewell! FR,OMI THE CO-V,SPIPATOR, AN UNPUIBLISHED TIRAGEDY. SC'E -NE. [A garden; ~ rniold De 3[alpas and Catl harine discovered w-alking slowly tow-ards a suimmierhlouse in the distance]. C ATIIARIN E. Art tlhout prepared to risk all this, De MAlalpas? DE'AILPAS. Ay! this, and more, if I but thloulght [ttesitatiiifg]. CATtIARINE. What, Arnold? DE MALIPAS. If I )ut thoughl t that wvhen the strife was over, The feeble prince hurled down, the throne secured, Slhe, for whose love I braved the people's hate, Malice of rulers, and the headsman's axe, Would deign to share witlh mie that perilous height. 49 C I -k I', I N l". D bDi.'IA YV ~Kk''#]; Flulshed clheeks, and filutterilng pulses; she from fear, I with thle iimountig hleat of martial i)blood, Thrilled N\-it the ntusic of the battle's rOal'. iThbe rhig ef oiii.gity lallnces onl steel lil e lms, ('lali,,or of sliel(ds, and lueiigling of wild steeds: ()io ltcoi-rn inhy knight was victor; as lie placed 'Thel( crioN-li of geils and laurel on lily brew,eae ['letlhoiuht thllat I w-as born to be a queen, Not t,iie brief ruler of a festal tliroWig, l)ut'stabl)lislhed kingdolns, and a host of In iei1 Bonlud to mlly sw-ay forever! DE IAIkLI'PAS. A true thloulght! ). noble (Catlhariiie tlhy aspiring spirit Fires lmy purpose, and gives winigs to action - Thyl rival hoathl sped past thee in the race, Bunt shle sliall fall nmild-ay' the blinded( monarch WAalks on the brink of an al)byNsal deep, And soon sliall topple over; then, a vic tor, (N-ot from the conflict w-itlh hlalf-blunted spears, hi friendly tournament), but thle tumult fierce ()f revoluttion, and the crash of states, Sihall set a weightier crow-n about tliy l b)rolx-s, Aid liail thee l'mler, - not of festal throngis, 1Iut', tablisled kiilgdoms, and a host of t nien iiiid to tl say foreer! Bo0undt to thy- swzay forever! Bor T()X. llWhy, Maaster Ariiol(l, I' sootlh tlhey're muheli (divicled; somiie ats sert7 That tlhoui art mioon-stiruck; that soimie miior-bid fancy, AWlhetlher of love or prid](e, lhatlh seized( upon tlhee; Otlhers, tlhat tlhou liast siiuply lost thly trust dIn man atiil in tliyself; and others still, That tlhoui lhast sllllk to base, ingloriouts ease, Urg,ing the lanlguid currenits of the bloo(d Witlh fiery spuris of sense; a few tli(re a::'e~ Feew, lbut nesost faithful, who at dead of nlight In secret conclave, withl low-lwhisperid(l wsords An d p allid faces glancill, baek aghlast,e Speakl of s all tolls ronils anS, sluidde tliot, 1)1 on me A fIo,I' wS. [,Sfuli fri]ds Jonr, an1(1 shyi.t i hst 11oehe..o Unhla-ppy wr-(tchli! tlher-eiii tlhoui speall'st tlhy (oom11! That pr-yinlg, ciiurious spirit is tlhy faLtc. [,Statbs himt.d 17/.] Did I not warni tlhee of it? l.'Ol.TON. Ohi! I (ii(" Yet mly soul swvells and lighltens; all tlc future Flaslhes before Ille like a revelation. Arnold De -Malpas! thouL slhalt gain tlhine end~! The ag,ed( king slhall fall, tlie tlhronle be thline! But, as tlhou goest to claimn it, its thvIN foot Presses the lroyal dais (iiar-k imiy words)! A A bolt slhall fall fromi lheaveni, sudden), swift, Even as tlhy blow on imie, tlhoui'lt wr-itlhe I o N oi' t h sil dul st, D Iown-trodde~n b)y tlle h~ostile hleel of tll(ous;.,]~(ls;. I)E -AI1I,PAS. Speak. Tolton! hiliat say thllese, my faitlh fill frielllls, Touellingl myv presen.t life? all Cl'ralt 3lay evermuole he fonud I)y tlhose w ho seek tlleli, Peering too closely uInderneathl the mask Of multiforiii conventions, yet, by leaven, The wiorl('s a fair, good, reasoiial)le To all whlio followv reason! Yoire highl Wlliose goal is vagtc iiimpossil)ility, Of course muslSt miss their imaLrk! AWe li e iiot, sir, In Edenl, or tle goldlenii age. B. Iiglht! righlt! You talk as is mnost natural in onei To wlhoim- all life lhath been a g,ty pai-a(le, A frolic pastiile! -to whoml sultle for ttll0" HIatlh never tirne(ld hler (larlk and loi-wering fr-olit, Bltut rotiid wh-lose footsteps sowed wvithl gol(len show-ers Obsequious knaves and sweet-toingued servitors Ilave fawned a(nd lied and flattered, till oouir davys uIorne )rltav-ely onwarid over perfumied ticles Passed like a steady bark'twixt shlores of flowvers, OYoui know the world! its men an(d mod(es forsootlh! Wawit, sii', iuntil your purse grows lean as liIllCe, An d fate wvitlii the comeipass of one (vil (A gaunt and loathlsomie poverty), iii i elledes All ills that flesli is lheir to! dlisrespect \No. b)y- ouri la,y,.'tis a irievot-Ls fall!' "Yet )rile, tlhout know- st, sw-eet Cathlia 1.ine?" — '; -y,tv. ay,! "Pritilee, Francisco. wilt thou dance to niight? 1)E MAIALPkAS. AWhat. fool w'iilt prate forever? Hence, I sav. Aind elterltaill the devil witli thy dreaiiil in-igs! [Statbs him~ afjaiti~.] DIS 31'IAI.IAS. Thou ha.st bheen to cour't, Bernaldi, hlast thouI niot? BI,I-N tI, DI. A~y! a ll the foeli niool! DLE liA-PAS.fr Diclst thoui see the la(dy, Catharine of Savoy, wh-lose miraculo,us beautv Hatli set all Spain aflame? I did, myiv couisini, But, I am })old to speak it, like(d lher not; iHer )eauty is the beauty of thle seipent., -)Iaskiiig a poisonous spil'it; tlher-e's 11o deptlh Of wn-omiianily nature in her gleaming eyesf Falsest wh-lieln lllost tlhey flatter: ]nen lhave said She oy-ns t he lBoria's b lood; I knowu not that,? Bu,t, b)y St. MAark! she owns their tenmper, cotIsin t DRAMATIC SKETCHES. Bcetw-een extrenes; avoid the spend tlllift's folly As yo'id avoid the road of uitter ruini; For wealthl, or at the least. fair comipe tence, Is lioior, comfort, hope, and self-respect; All, in a word, that makes oure human life En durable, if not happy: scorn the cant Of sentimental Dives, wrapped in pur pjle, AlWho over jewelled wine-cups and rich fare, Affects to flout his gold, and prattles loosely Of sweet content that's found in poverty: As for the niser, he's a madmian simply, One vwho the means of all enjoyment holds, Yet never (lares enjoy: no, no, Anselmo, Use with a piudent, but still lib)eral hand That store the ogods have given you; thus, mi-y friend, 'T"1'wixt the Charybdis of a churlish mean ness. And the swNift Scylla of improvident waste, tYou'll steer your )baik o'er smooth, in nocUOllS seas, And reach at last a peaceful anchorage. LOVIE'S CAPRICE S. COMIE, sweetlheart, hear me! I have loved tlhe(e well, God knowethl.''Throughl all these years my holiest thouglhts, Like those piii'e (lov(s iinrtnred in an tiqule templlles, Have fluttered ever round thine image And found in thlee their shrine. No tendierest hope Of mine, which latth not warmed its radiant an,ing,s s Within that heaven, thy presence, and drank strlenigtlh And sunshine from it. From insolent curs that now you'd( hardly stoopl ''o soil ouir lorldlvy boot with! studied coldness Of alncient friends -whlose easy faithl de cliines W\itlh vour clecreasing wvinie-butts' covert sneers, Or open insult from the gaudy throng Of parasites, who breathe alone ill sun shine' Grief w itliout hgalhni, and paiin that knows lnot pity; Dark days, and maddening mildnlights, an(l the pailg Of outraged feeling, and the soul's de sl)pailr Ay' w-ait, I say, until from (leptlhs like these, The loniely tlhtunider growliing overhead, And misery like a cataract raging round Your patlh of ruinl, wild anid desperate eves Are lifted to the summiiiiits of past hope, PReceding ever w-ithl their shows of joy, Less real than the miriiage, or the djoines W-iellch sunset builds onl clouds of phlan tasy! Wait till the fiend that's born of famished hours Shlall grasp your hand in bony fellow ship, And( lead yvou through the mist of ghastly dreamns, Helpless and tottering, to the brink of death! Ha' lha! IvoL shrink! the picture does not please Your dainty fancy! Well, soft optimist, Confess there's somewhat you have still to learn Of this same fair, good, reasonable world! THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY. I'D have you use a wise philosophy, In this, as in all nmatters, whereupon Judgment may freely act; truth ever lies ) 2 I El tf tf) ;;;;~#;~~;;~;;;~~ ~~~~~~~~~~tf 0 O 10 I I ,ll 54 I)1AAA4ifC SKEI'CHE$. About some vacant chambers of tthy minnd, By idle thoughts left open, making harsh, Prude discord, where, if healthful will had sway, Angels, perchance, might lift celestial voices! Love, love, thou wrong'st thyself, and that sweet nature, Sweet at the core, for all such small de spites, AWherewithl kind heaven endowed thee; yet, bewvare! Caprice, though frail its shafts, a poi soned barb Hiatli bound on each; their points are sharp to wounid, VAnd the wounds rankle! Giants great as Love Have perished merely of an insect's venoln, And who through all God's universe can touch Love's pulseless heart to warmth and life again? THE UNIVERSALITYI OF GRIEF. I GRANT you that our fate is terrible, Bitter as gall. What then? Will lam entation, Childish complaint, everlasting wailinigs, Grief, groans, despair, help to anieud our doom? Glance o'er the world - the world is full of pain Akin to ours. If some dark spirit touched Our vision to miraculous clearness, sights Would meet our eyes, at which the cold est heart Mlight weep blood-tears; there's not a moment passes Which doth not bear its load of agonies Out to the dim Eternity beyond; The primal curse of earth, with heavier weight, Descends on special victims; yet, bethink you, All sorrow hath its bounds, o'er which there stands That friend of misery, gentle-hearted Death. Balms of oblivion holds he, and the reahl m Wherein he rules hath murmurous caves of sleep. CREEDS. FIEN-D),'mlid the complex and unnum bered creeds WAVhichl meet and jostle on this mortal scene, And sometimes fight a l'oitranice, I perceive Some precious seed of truth ennobling all: Encased, it may be, like the mummy's wheat, Locked in dead forms, yet waiting but a breath Of honest air, an inch of wholesome soil, To bloomn and flourish heavenward; therefore, friend, Walk hand in hand with clear-eyed Charity, And Faith sublime, though simple, like a child's, o THE PE.VITEX7'. THOU see'st yon woman with the grave pelisse Lined with dark sables? Is she not de vout? Her soul is in the service, and her eyes Are dim with weeping, -weeping for the follies 54 -DI4illAl'IC, SKEI'CIIL,,. Who feels through densest midnight, i,iext his own, The loving throb of a kind fatlier's heart. RE WA4RD OF FICKLENVl~S S. Of dim-relnemnbered childhood);-let it p ass! Our lot's the lot of millions; for on life A blight is preying, and a mystic wrong Hath set outr heartstrings to the tune of glief! Of a misguiided youth; thus saith the world, PBut I, who know her ladyship, know this: She weeps that youth itself, and the lost triumilpls Which followed in its train; the scores of lovers D)ead inow,- or married off; the rout, the joulst, The sweet flirtations, merry carnivals, And- (ohi! supremest memory of all!)The bandled serenaders'neatli the lattice, Lifting tile voice of passion in the night: Andc one among the minstrels loved her well. I,tit himn she laughed to scoirn, his heart Slie trampiled on the purest pearl of love, Aiid cast, it to the dogs; well, God( is just! Slle, scornedI his sacred gift, and so must ee -alk, IIenceforth a lonely woman on the earth! RE TDC4R?D OF t'ICIeLE:VESS. AL,TON. You see that man wvitlh the quick eyes and brow, Too pond(lerous almost for his slender frlnIa e, His dark locks tinged with gray; you'd hardly think it, But he's a moral dandy, d(ilett(tnte (As your Italians say), whose fickle taste Leads him, like some fastidious bee, from flower To flower of social pastimee! At fair girl, Pretty and piquanite, fills his heart to day; On airy wings of sentiment hlie hovers Lovingly round her, feeds the beauteous creature On honeyed notl-iings in a tone so sweet, They seem the genuine fruit of a strong soul Nurtured by passion, and true adoration; Then on the morrow when hlie meets once more "That Cynthia of the minute," a cold crust Of iciest form and etiquette o'erspreads olis words, look, bearing; the whole man is chan-ge(dAs if a Tropic landscape, bright with sunlight, Ilad grown to frozen hardness in an hour: - dA demon, fickle, trifling, and capricious O'erriiles his spirit always! with men likewise, It is his pride to play the same vile game I Why, sir, you, patience would be taxed to count DRAM.A TIC F-A G MIE.NT. WE might have been! ahl, yes! wve might have been Amnong the laurelled noblemen of thloulght, Who lift their species with them as they climb To deathless emipire in the realn of godls; But somne dark power -we will not call it FateWe dare not call it Providence - bath seized The helm of our strange destinies, and steered Right onward to the breakers. All is lost! Hlope's siren song of promise faints in sighs, And joy - (but she ne'er charmned us, save in (lays 55 DIRAIA TIC SKIETCHEES. His dupes w-ithin the year! he'll take a youth, Bright-minldedcl, trusting, w-holn per chance he imieets In casual fashion on the public square, Caress. solicit, flattel him -at lenigtlh Bear the poolr fool, elate and jubilant, To banquet at his own well-ordered board, Ply him w ithi curious questions, draw him out To make displlay of all his raciest wit, A nd whenl like a squeezed orange, all his sap s Exhausted, - faith! Sir Dainty down the wind h'listles his victim with a cool assur anice, AlVicli is the calhn sublime of imlpu (lence! In fine, the iman's a worn-out Epicurean, A- ceaseless lhunter after new sensations, To wn-holmi the w orld's a storehouse crammied w-itlh hlearts Anld miinds for his amusement! as for hlearts, He'll toss cmr up, as jugglers toss their balls, Proud of his sleight of hand, his impisl cunnling,en His matchless turns of quick dexterity! And if the baubles break, he's sore amazed That auglht should be so brittle! yet thanks God The earth is full of these same (lelicate tovs; And so he hurls the shattered plaything by, To re-assume his honest, jugglin-ig tricks, iAnd charii his w-eary leisure-timwe wvit, h lies; A silken, soft, fair-spoken, dangerous knave. MARCUS. Some day he'll find his match I ALTON. Ay! you may swear to that; Some woman versed in every social art, Sonme rare, majestic creature, whose rich beauty Will set his amorous senses in a blaze; Slowly around himi she will draw the ]let Of fascinationis, miiultiform-i andl strange; Enchant his fanicy iNcitlt h er regal wit, HIis tas t e with every clarin of female guile, Inflame hiIIw withl voluptuous blandish 11ienits, By turns, sooth, f l atter, lmadde, n voi she loves At one (leliciou s moingenft, then the next As warmaly swear slok r lo athe s i him! by a spell Invisible, buat p otent as the sun, Sae'll lead ashion, fawning, quivering to her feet, AnTl at the last, O! consumrmeation just! When on these -very brink of b le st frui tioll, Ie hlovers, airms oulltstretched, rand soul aglow, She'll freeze to sudlden marble, wave him off With such calmh haughtiness of queenly SCOl'll, Imyiperious, crushliinig, fatal, that, by heav en, I should not wonder if the terrible sting Of disappointment and dec(ived desires, Of ballled passion, wvounided self-conceit, And hol( so swiftly murdered by de spair-, Struck to the core of being, and this Illall Falser tlhan hell to others, perished wholly, By his own pestilent trickery done to death! A CHARACTER. A. HE is a man whose complex char acter Few can decipher rightly; but for me I have found the key at last! 56 A CHARAC7ER. The flying nilght-winds, when our graver A. As mournful an(l as l)ulrre(I a page, perchance, As ever pained the seeker after truth: Listen! this niain, wvheii like a factory slave I toiled for some bald pittance in the city, Came to ine (unsolicited, remceinber), WAithl words of cheer, and honeye(l cour tesies; His tone was soft as dulcet airs of May; His heart the very fount of sympathy! "What." sai(l lie. shall you grind your genius lhere, DowAn to the last faint ecdge; waste your rich thoughts (Mark von the subtle flattery of this language), Upon a thankless, ignorant, brutal fool, Wlho plays the patron with the grace of Bottom, His ass's head from out your flowering fancies Grinning in (dull and idiot self-applauses; By every gentle muse this shall not be!" Straiglihtw-ay, w-ithl hand caressing as a w'onlian' S, Ie led ime froni hard desk and stifling i air, Forth to his bowery lhome amnid the hills, There fed ine, sii', on kindness, day by (lay, Until this starved and tortured spirit grew Healthy and hale again! No wish had I, He (lid not hasten blithely to forestall! He called mne " brother," drew from shy reserves Of knowvledge, feeling, poesy, full stores Of all my -wealth - by heart or brain amassed - Ha! by Apollo! what rare tinies were those W11e spent in'rapt commnunioni with the bards Each worshipped, and what jovial laughl tr slhook books Were cast asi(le, andl he an artful mimic, A fameie(I coitelt1, many a humorous scene lEnlacted with such raciness of wit Despair itself had checkedl its tears-to smile; In brief, by every wile a man could ulse To knit his fellow's leart-strings to his own, Ile made me love him! other friends w(ere gone Forlornly mouldering in far churchyard shades And therefore - undivided, ardent, sure, Affection cen-tre(d all its warinths on him! f'nd now, when wholly his, I would have (lai-e(I For him all danger (you will scarce be lieve it), But suddenly, as somnetimes on calmn seas, The watcher from some lonely headland views A gallant bark sink swiftly in the deep, Dissolving like a vision - thus his friend sllil), Its glittering flags of promise flaunting still The tranquil sunlighlt, sunk before mine eyes And left me gazing like a man distraught Across the mocking solitude! B. What more? A. What more? Why, truly, sir, the tale is done. 'Twas a sharp close, I grant you, to a (dr-eaimi Which rose so fairly; yet there's comfort ini't! B. Comfort! A. Ay, ay! rare comfort in the thlought Tlhat thlo' miy years should reach the uttlinost verge Of mortal life, I slhall not dream again! 57 B. 117hat make yoti of it? 58 DBAMA TIC SKETCHES. But pshaw! push on the bottle,'tis the last Of a full bin that constant friend of mine, That loyal, noble, pure Samaritan, Gave me, w-ithl vow-s of everduring love, Three months ago at Clhristuas! Stay, a toast: "Fair health, long life, immortal lhonor crownao' The man whlo' s constant only to - him self! " You row asthmatic with a weibutlht like that Pressed on your gasping lungs; I'll free you from it; And ble sse d saints! but here' s a fair-knit purse, And fairly filled, too! Slhamiie it were il sootlh To keep this gift of your sweet p)ara mouir, Therefore, bellold me! I pouIIl out tlis coin; 0 Jesu! what rich music! but tlhe purse Dully return y-ou! haste, your wN-orshlip), haste, Or (,lse these itching palms will find fresh About yore' silkeni doublet, and bright lhose, Or those trussed points you needs must cla,sI) wNvitli jewN-els; o Ay, haste, and take voui comfort in the text Wlieli thle wise MAfesser Salvatore D)iuoltio Dinis in our cars each sacred Sabbath lmionlllilnl, That " blesse(l,'three times blessed, are the 1)001!'" M[O'AL,S OF DESPERA TI0VY. TiHE man A-whlo's wh-lolly rLuinled, sir, fears nlotlhing', How can lie when all's lost to hin al ready? There is a desperate gayety vihich comes To buoy one Lup in sucht a strait as this; Und(ler whose spell. it is a sort of witell craft, tleii lose all sense of iwrong, or rather take AV'rong for their right, rejoicing even in crime. Faithl, inow. I'd liardlv answer for my self, If in some garden solitude, like this, sir, At the hour of midnighlt (liark! the dleep church tower Is tolling twel-e), haply I cllanced to meet A pompous millionaire. a man who stag gers Under his goldel burden, like a ship Reeling'neatli too much canvass; I should ease My laboring comradcle, thus and thus, of all His glittering superfluities; this rin B Is a brave diamond, and will serve me bravely: And ha! by Pluto! what a massive chain Meandlers like a niiniatture Pactolus Ac ross your worsllip s vest; my lord, no wondel' 'IE ('O.N'DEJ.1IED). As in those lands of migh,ity inoutnti hleigh-ts, The streams, by sudden temnpests ov(r clhar ged, Sweep down the slopes, bearing swift l'lli Nitlh them, So I and all mny fortunes were engulf'(1 In sudden, swift, complete destruction; Th e myorning fo1und A e i e happy, ri( in, contented, But ere the sunset that black ruin camne, And stared Ilel ill the face. Sir, I had reaclh'd A stage of middle life. \when cllains of lla)it .DRAMATIC SKETCHES. 58 i i i I I THE CONE DEMNVED. 59 Broken, amazed, despondent. What had I, A scholar, recluse, dreamer, thou may'st say, In common with the work-day world of men? Cannot be broken, savv by giant wrenches, When to be rudely hurled fromn life-long grooves Of though t a nd progress, leaves the staunchest mind "Aliighty Nature, the first law of God, Perforce I followed." Yet, goaded on by fierce necessity, Would be assuredly answered. Alt I sought work in the crowded haunts of poor fool: cities, Too soon experience clove the shining Thllinking to draw on knowledge as a mist bank, Of hopeful fantasy, and like a wind, Exhaustless, opulent, whereby all needs, Sullen at first and slow, but raised ere Not born of random, loose extrava- long, gance, To tempest-madness, rent the veil away 60 D]?AJiA]C SKEIHES. O'er which a steel-blute melancholy heaven Glared on me, like a mocking eye in death: Then camne by turn mistrust, despon den-ce, dread, And last, despair, wiith frenzy; tile brute instincts, That sleep like tigers, jungled, in the loo1)100(1, With hale or pampered bodies, at the sting Of loathsomne famine, woke, and raged and tore, Till Conscience, whose fair seat is in the soul, Till Reason, whose deep life is in the brain, Lay silent, murdered. A mere animal thing - Hyena, tiger, wolf - whate'er thou wilt - I seized my prey and rent it. What to me The complex figments of your juggling laws? Nature with countless clamorous tongues cried out, "Thouhunigerest, diest; snatch thy food from fate, Though'twixt thee and the life-sustain ing bread A hundred sleek, smooth, sneering ty rants stand Laughing to scorn thine untold agonies!" Almighty Nature, the first law of God, Perforce I followed; the false codes of man Perforce I broke. And so, for this, for this, Man's law that fain would run a tilt at God, Its puny weapon shivering like a reed, 'Gainst the great bosses of Jehovah's buckler, Appoints me death. Well, well, I fear not death, Trusting that death, perchance, is but a night Shorn of all miorrow, a long, dreamless slumber, O'er which tie a-es, hoar and solemn IlUrses, Chant their majestic lullabies, that hold Spells of oblivion; either thus, or I, Whose life-sun rose in shadow, sets in blood, Shall find a nobler being in some star Beyond the silvery Pleiads. Friend, thy hand; Alone of all earth's chtrea tures do I loe thee: Tlhee, and the little soft-eyed, pensive child, Tly fairy daughter. Strange! but when I drink Light fromi) the founts of her large, seri ous eyes, I seem to near a trembling, spiritual joy, To thrill upon the utmost verge and brink Of mystic revelations. Prithee, there fore, Bring the fair child once more; I yearn to carrv. The dream of her sweet, pitiful, angel's face, To cheer the realh of shadows. Will she come? ANTIlPA TIIIIES. Love is no product of the obedient will, It liathl its root in those deep sympa thies, aere, ties of blood are powerless to con trol; I lovc thee not because around thy heart Anl A rctic natture l atlw built up the ice Of thawless winter: vail- it is to strive Against the law of just antipathies: The Tropic sunlight burns not at the Poles, Nor blooms the lustrous foliage of the East 60 DRA.3,IAI'IC SKL,'I'CIIES. MIISCONS Y1R U(C,1 T ON. V. Against some petty, I)amlpered, poor con. ceit, Unworthy, undefined, is straightway mnade To prove a vast obliquity of soul, And shallow disputants, with ponderous show Of judgment that provokes the wise to scorn, Exhort the virtuous by the foul abuse WThich damnns them to the level of their speech. Among the lrocky, storm-bound Hebrides; To all muy gods thou art antipodal, Therefore, again, good sir! I love thee not. -ISCON S TR UCTI VON. How man misjudges man! the outward seelining,, Gesture, or glance, or utterance that may jar I 61 POEMS OF THE WAR. *y>( 0; ~0 POEMS OF THE WAR. 1861-1865. These poems are republished with no ill-feeling, nor with the desire to revive old issues; but only as a record and a sacred duty: "Fi(eleis a(d uerias!" Thy careless sisters frowned, or mocking said: " We see no threatening tempest over head, Olnly a few pale clou(ds, the west wind's breath Will sweep away, or melt in watery death. " 3IY Blothler-land! thou wert the first to flingC Thyl virgin flag of freedom to the breeze, The first to front along thy neighboring seas, The imperious foeman's power; But long before that hour, While yet, in false and vain imagining, Thv sister nations would not own their foe, And turned to jest thy warnings, though the lowv, Portentous muttterings, that precede the throe Of earthquakes, burdened all the omiin ous air; While yet they paused in scorn, Of fatal madness born, Thou, oh, my mother! like a priestess bless'd With wondrous vision of the things to come, Thou couldst not calmly rest Secure and dumbBut from thy borders, with the sounds of drum And trumpet rose the warrior-call,(A voice to thrill, to startle, to appall!)"Prepare! the tisme grows ripe to meet our doom!" "Prelpac}e! the tingle y),otvs Xip)e to meet oIC} i00ooI! " Alas! it was not till the tlhunder-boom Of shell and cannon shocked the vernal day, Which shone o'er Charleston Bay,* That startled, roused, the last scale fallen away Fromii blinded eyes, our South, erect and proud, Fronted the issue, and, though lulled too long, Felt her great spirit nerved, her patriot valor strong. MY MOTHEP-1-4.YD. OI)ib?tsq?(e lltiati." Death! 1,Vliat of death? - Can lie who once drew honorable breath In liberty's pure sphere, Foster a sensual fear,.. When death and slavery meet him faee to face * Fort Sui-nter, March, 1861. POEMS OF THE WA4R. Saying: "Choose thou between us; here, the grace Which follows patriot martyrdomn, and there, Black degradation, haunted by despair." Who, led and guarded by a luminous fate, His armor, Courage, and his war-horse, Right, Dared through the lists of eloquence to sweep Against the proud Bois Guilbert of de bate! Tile very thought brings blushes to the cheek! I hear all'round about mne murmurs run, Hot miurmiurs, but soon mierging into o ne ".oul-stirrilig utterance-hark! the peo ple speak: " There's not a tone from out the teem ing past, Uplifted once in such a cause as ours, Which does not smite our souls In long reverberating thu(nder-rolls, From the far imountain-steeps of ancient story, Above the shlouting, furious Persian llass, Millions arrayed in pomlip of Orient powers, Rings the wild war-cry of Leonidas Pent in his rugged fortress of the rock; And o'er the murmurous seas, ComiCpact of hero-faith and patriot bliss (For conquest crowns the Athenlian' s hope at last), Come the clear accents of Mliltiades, Mingled with cheers that drown the )attle-shock Beside the wave-washed strand of Sala ]ills. Our course is righteous, and our aiims are just! Behold, we seek Not merely to preserve for noble wives The virtuous pride of unpolluted lives, To shield our daughters from the servile hand, And leave our sons their heirloom of command, In generous perpetuity of trust; Not only to defend those ancient laws, Whichl Saxon sturdiness and Normian fire WAVelded forevermore with freedoma's cause, And handed scathless down from sire to sire - Nor yet our grand religion, and our Christ, Unsoiled by secular hates, or sordid harms, (Though these had sure sufficed To urge the feeblest Sybarite to arms) - But more than all, because embracing all, EnsLuring all, self - government, the boon Our patriot statesmen strove to win and keep, From prescient Pinckney and the wise Calhoun To him, that gallant knight, The yotungest champion in the SeIate hall, " Where'er on earth the self-devoted heart Hatlh been by worthy deeds exalted tlhuis, We look for proud exemplars; yet for I t is enough to know Our fathers left us freemen; let us show The will to hold our lofty heritage, The patient strength to act our father's part. " Yea! thlou,ghl our chlildren's blood Rtain'round us in a crimsoin-swvelling flood, I I (i6 ITS * Vi(le the Senatorial debate on 11 Foote's Itesolution," in 1832. ODE. 67 Why pause or falter? -that red tide shall bear The ark that holds our' shrined liberty, Nearer, and yet more near Some height of promise o'er the ensan guined sea. When war and warlike lays At length shall cease, Before a grand Apocalypse of Peace, Vouchsafed in mercy to all human kind - A prelude and a prophecy combined! At last, the conflict done, The fadeless meed of final victory won, Behold! emerging from the rifted dark Athwiart a shining summit high ill heaven, That delegated Ark! No more to be by vengeful tempests driven, But poised upon the sacred mount, whereat The congregated nations gladly gaze, Struck by the quiet splendor of the rays That circle freedom's blood-bought Ara rat! " [In honor of the bravery and sacrifices of the:, soldiers of the South.] WITIi bayonets slanted in the glittering light, With solemn roll of drumls, With star-lit banner s rus tl ing win gs of might, The knightly con co ur se c omes! The flower and fruit of all the tropi c lands, The unsheathed brightness of their stain less brands Blazing in courtly hands, One glorious soul within those thousand eyes, One aim, one hope, one impulse from the skies, While silent, awed and dumb, A nation waits the end in dread sur mise, They come! they come! Thus spake the people's wisdom; unto lme Its voice hath come, a passionate augury! Methinks the very aspect of the world Changed to the mystic music of its hope. For, lo! about the deepening heavenly cope The stormy cloudland banners all are fuoled, And softly borne above Are brooding pinions of invisible love, Distilling balh of rest and tender thought From fairy realms, by fairy witchery wrought: O'er the hushed ocean steal ethereal gleams Divine as lighlt that haunts an angel's dreams: And universal nature, wheresoever My vision strays - o'er sky, and sea, and river - Sleeps, like a happy child, en i slumb er unda efiled, A premonition of sublimer days, The summer flaunts her vivid leaves above The unwonted scene, The summer heavens embrace with snmiles of love The hill-slopes green; Far in the uppermost realms of silent air Peace sits enthroned and happy, but op earth The cymbals clash, and the shrill trum pets blar e, And Death, like some grim mower on the plain, Topped by the ripened grain, Whets his keen scythe, and shakes it fearfully! ODE. 67 0 ODE. POEMS OF TIHE WAR. Onir serried lines marchl sternly to the front, VWhere decked as if they rose to celebrate A joyous festal morn, In glistening polmp and splendid bla zoniry, Slow moving as in scorn Of those weak bands that guard the pass bgelow,* Comlie gorgieoLus, flLushled and proud, the cohorts of the foe! Had fallen,-fallen in the terrible van, - Like wine the life-streams ran; "Back! back!" cried one (it was the voice of Bee, Lifted in wrath and bitter agony), "We're driven backward!" unto whom there caimie An answer, like the rush of steady flame, 'Twixt ribs of iron, " We will give them yet The bayonet! Thle sharp edge of the Southern bayo net! " At whilch the otler's face flushed up, and caught Lighlt like a warrior-angel's, and he sprang To the front rank, while swift as pas sioiiate thought Leaped forthi his sword, and this high SuilmlIllolns ralg: ' See! see! where fixed and grand, Like a stone wall the braves of Jackson stand! Forwi'ard! " and on he rushed with quivering breath, On to his Spartan death! They wNNheel! deploy, are stationed, down the cleft Of the long gorge their signal thun ders run! A sullen answer echoes from our left And the great fight's begun! O! Nh-lo shall picture the immortal frayi? Our Soutlherin host that day Breasted thie onset of the invading sea WAitlh w-ills of adamant; but stern wi-eiglhted strength, Like waves by some infernal alchemy Hardlene(l, transforlned to solid metal, burningquvrnbra, At -white heat as they struck, and aye returning Hotter and more resistless than before (All flecked atop with foam of human gore), Pierced here and there our crumbling ranks at length, Which as a mountain shore, Rock-ribbed and iron founded, still had stood. And outward hurled In bloody sprayings, that tremendous flood Which, with wild charge and furious br unt on brunt, Had dashed against us like a fiery world! Unceasing still poured down the fateful tide, And plumed victory ever seemed to ride O'er the red billows of the northland war! When faint and far, Far on our left there rose a sound that thrilled All souls, and even the battle's thunder olus pulse (Or so we deemed) for briefest space was stilled; A sound, low hissing as a mieteor-star, But gathering depth of volume, till it burst In one great flam elik e cheer, That seemed to rend and lift the cloud acCuIirst, The poisonouis-cling,ing cloud That wrapped us in its shroud, Unceasing still poured on the fateful tide, And plumed victory ever seemed to ride On the red billows of the northland war! Our glory and pride I 68 ODE. While wounded mien leaped on their feet to hear, And dying men upraised their eyes to see How on the conflict's lowering canopy, Dawned the first rainbow hues of vic tory! Frorm mo sritain fastness, and from wav ing plain, From wooded swamp an d mist-encircled main, From nhamlet, city, field, And the riclh nlidlandd weald, The spirit of thei antique iq hero time! O!'tvas a sight sublime To wat ch the upheaval of the popular soul, The stortny gatherinu, - the majestic roll Upward of i ts wild forces, by the awe Of Riglt and Justice stea d i ed into la v! Faitl lent our cause it s heavenly conse cratiol! Hope its omnipotent miught! And Fane sto od ready, with her flowers of light, To crotwn alike th e living and the dead, While in the broadening firmament o'er head We seemed to read the fiat of our fate, " Ye are baptized,- a Nation! Amongst the freest, free, - amongst the mnightiest, great!" An omninous hush! and then the scat tered clouds In the dark northern heaven (Clouds of a deadlier strife), Urged by the poison wind Of rage and rapine, sullenly com bined, Charged with the bolts of ruin! what were shrouds, Crimsoned with gore? the widowed spirit riven? The desecration of God's gift of life, To that one thought (three fiery strands uniting, Hot from a Haddan loom), 'Conquest! " " Revenge! " Suprema cy? " The blightinu Of untold promises, the grief, the gloom, The desolate madness and the anguish blind, All spreading on and on From murdered sire to subjugated son, Were less'than nothing to the arrogant Slave vou watched the condor leap Froml his proud Andean rock, And wraith hurtling pinions sweep On the valley-pastuL'ing flock? Have you watched an eygre vast On the rude September blast PRoll adown with curved crest O'er the low sands of the West? O! thus and thus they came (Four thousand men and more), Hearts, faces, - all aflame, And the grandeur of their wrath Whirled the tyrant from their path As the frightened rack is driven By the unleashled winds in heaven; Then, maddened, tossed about In a reckless, hopeless rout, The Northern army fled O'er their dying and their dead, And the Southern steel flashed out, And their vengeful points were red WAith the hot hleart's tide that flowed Where they sabred as they rode! And the news sped on apace (Whiere the Rulers, in their place, Sat jubilant, one and all), Till a shadow seemed to fall Round their joyance like a pall, And the inmost senate-hall Pealed an echo of disgrace! At the set of July's sun They stood quivering and undone, F or the eagle standards waned and the Southern " stars " had won! Thus looiined serene and large Upon that desperate contest's lurid mlarge Our orb of destiny; millions of hearts Throb with bold exultation, rlP/l1 fhn.- q-pfc 69 POEMS OF H'IIE WAl. Which treaties compacts, honor, laws defied, And aimed above tle n-irecks of temple and tower To rear the s-iymbols of its merciless power! Four deadly years we fougit,o o Ringed by a girdle of unfaltering fire, That coiled and hissed in lessening cir cles nigher. Blood dyed the Southern wave; From ocean border to calm inlan(l river, There was no pause, no peace, no respite ever. Blood of our bravest brave Drenched in a scarlet rain the western lea, Swelled the hoarse waters of the Tennes see, Incarnladined the gulfs, the lakes, the rills, And from a hundred hills Steamed in a mist of slaLughlter to the skies, Shutting all hope of heaven from mortal eyes. Tile Beaufort blooms wvere withered on the stein; The fair gulf city in a single night Lost her imperial diadem; And -lwheresoe'er nien's troubled vision solug-lt, They viewed MIGnT towering o'er the humbled crest of RIGIIT! But for a time, but for a time, O God! The innate forces of our knightly blood Rallied, and by the mount, the fen, the flood, Upraised the tottering standards of our race. O grand Virginia! though thy glittering glaive Lies sullied, shattered in a ruthless grave, How it flashed once! They dug their trenches deep (The implacable foe), they ranged their lines of wrath; -But wiatchftul ever on the immiiiinieint patlh Thy steel-cla(l genih-s stood; pNorthl. Soulthli, East, WAVest, -they strove to pierce thy shield; 7l'ho tt wotlll'st pot yliel(d! Until, - unco nquered, yea, unconquered still, Natiure's wealkeicd(l for(,es answere(l no, thy will, And gored with Mw-ound on wound, Thy fainting limbs and forehead sought the ground; And with thee the young nation fell. X pall Solemn and rayless, covering one an(d all! God's ways are marvellous; here wX stand to-day Discrowned(l, and sliorn, in wildest d(lis array, Tihle mo ck of e arth! ye t never slhone trhe Stlll On sterner deeds, or nobler -victories won. Not in the field alone; al, come withl me To the diimi bivouac by the winter's sea; Mlark the fair sons of courtly mothers crouch O'er flickering fires; but gallant still, and gay As on some bright parade; or mark the couch In reeking hospitals, whereon is laid The latest scion of a line perchance, Whose veins were royal; close your blurred romance, Blurred by the dropping of a imaudlin tear, And watch the manhood here; That firm but delicate countenance, Distorted sometimes by an awful pang, Born in meek patience; when the trum pets rang "To horse! " but yester-morn, that ar dent boy 4-0 CHAPRLESTON. 5p1rung to his chlarger, thrilled with hope and joy To the v-ery finger-tips, and now lie lies, hlie shladown-s deepening in those falcon eves, Blut calbn and undismiayed, As if the (ileathl that clills lilni, brow- and breast. -ei'e soei,,- fond bride who whispered, '.Let us rest!" CALMLeY r, besi(le her tropic straia.l An eglipoess, brave an(i loyal, I see tlhe wvatchlful city stand(l, AW'itlh aspect sternly royal; Shie kIn-ows her mnortal foe (drawi s near, Airmiior-ed by subtlest science, Yet deep, mnajestical, and clear, Itilings out lher grand (lefiance. Olh, glorious is tlhy noble face, Lit ul)p by prou(d emiiotion, And uinsurpassed tlhy stately grace, Our wN arri-ior- Queen of Ocean! ELouilh! tis ov-er! the last gleami of hope Ilatli mielted from our m0ournful hloro scope, Of all. of all bereft, Only to -Ls are left Our bl)urie(l lheroes and their matchless deecls; T1h.se cannot pass; they hold the vital seeds Whiclh in some far, untracked, uin i-isioned lhor 3Ma- burst to vivid bud and glorious flow-er. 5leainw-hile, upon the nation's bro ken heart Her miart-yrs sleep. O! dearer far to lher, Than if each sonI, a w-reatlhed conqueror, P,ode in triumphant state The loftiest crest of fate; O! dearer far, because outcast and low, She vearns above them in her awful woe. One spiring its tender blooms [lath lavished richly by those hallowed A tombs; One summner its imperial largess spread AIloIg our heroes' bed; ()Oe autumn wailing, with funereal blast, The withlered leaves and pallid dlust amassed All round about them, till bleak winter noil' hIangs hoar-frost on the grasses, and the bottgh In dreary woodlands seems to thrill and start, Thrill to the ang,uish of the wind that rav-es Across those lonely desolated graves! First from thly lips tlc siiilumons cat.ne, Wlicll r-oused out' Southl to action, And, withl thle quenchless force of Talne, Consumed(l thle deinoii, Faction; First, like a riutslh of soverej,igni wind, That renldls dull wavves asuiiiilei, Tlly prescient warm ilg struck the blilit, An(d woke the deaf w-ithl thunder:; Thlley saw, withl swiftly kin(dling eyes, The shameful dooiii before thelm, And lheart-d, borne wild from Nortltheni skies, The deatlh-gale hurtling, o'er them: Wilt tlhou, whose virgin banner rose, A imorning star of splendor, Quail when the war-tor-nado blows. And crouch in base surrender? Wilt thou, upon whose loving, breast Our noblest chiefs are sleeping, Yield thy dead patriots' place of rest To scornful alien keeping? No! while a life-piulse throbs for fame, Thy sons will gathler round thee, Welcome the shot, the steel, the flame, If lhonor's hand hatlh crowned tlhee. Then fold about thy beauteous form The imperial robe thou wearest, And front with regal port the storm aThy foe would dream thou fearest; If strength, and will, and courage fail To cope with ruitlhless numbers, 71 CIIAI,'LE!57'0-N-. 72 P()~11J$ Of 111~ t&AI. And thou must bend, despairing, pale, Where thy last hero slumbers, Lift the red torch. and light the fire iAmid those corpses gory, And on thy self-made funeral pyre, Pass from the wor-ld to glory. Do the autumn sunbeams play, And the devil nmust sharpen his keenest wits, To rescue " his own " to-day. Ho, ye who dwell in the fertile vales Of the pleasant land of Penn, Who feast on the fat of her fruitful dales, How little ye dreamn or ken That the southern Murat lhas bared his brand, That the Stuart rides again. A CrP of yourl potent " mountain dew," By thie camip-fire's ruddy light; Let us drink to a spirit as leal and true As ever drew blade in fight, And dashed on the foeman's lines of steel, For God and his people's right. "Close up, close up! we have travelled lon1g, B3ut a jovial niglht's in store, A night of wassail, and wit, and song, In yon ofsy town b efore. Quick, sergeant! spui' to the front in haste, And knock at the mayor's door." Bv heaven! it seems that his yery name Emiibodies a thlouiglht of fire; It strikes on the ear withitl a sense of flame, And the life-blood boutndetli higher, AWhile the pulses leap and the brain ex pands, In the lowv of a grand desire. Behold, he comes withli a ghost-like grace, And his knee-joints out of tune; And the cold, cold sweat runs down his face, I' the light of the autumn moon, WVhile his husky voice, like an ancient crone's, Dies in a hollow croon. Hark! in the day-dawin's misty gray, Our bugles are riniging loud, And hot for the joy of a coming fray, Our souls AN-ax fierce and(I proud, As we list for the -word that shall launch us forth, Like bolts fronm the mountain-cloud. Ile cannot speak; but his buxom dame, With her tremnblinig daughters nigh, Shrieks out, " Oh, honor their virgin fatlge, Pass the poor maidens by." (Whereon, with a grievous heave and sob, She paused in her speech —to cry.) We list for the word, and it comes at lenigtlh, In a strain so mighty and clear, That we rise to the sound with an added strengtlh, And our hearts are glad to hear, And a stir, like the breath of the boding storm Thrills throug,l us, fromn van to rear. " Rise up! we leave to the churlish brood Our vengeance hath sought ere now, The famne which springs from thelic ruth less moold That crimnsons a womnan's brow; For sons are we of a kindly race, And bound bv a knightly vow. Then, with the ruislh of the whirlwind freed, We rush, by a secret way, And merry on sabre, and helmnet, and steed-, I I I I -i 2 POL"-,Illli O-hl IJIL" [[I.41". 0 s 7' U-4 PI T. BE}~O-D TIE POTOMIAC~ 73 RPise up! we war with the strong alone' There's coning — (hush! lean thee For where was the caitiff found, neat'r! )To sport w-ithl an outraged -woman's There's coling a raid( that shall drive moanl. then lna(l, W1here the southern trumpets sound? And cover their land witi fear; And you and I, by the blessing of "Enough! while I speak of the past, my God, lad, Avy, you and I shall be there." 'They arose w-itli the sunl, and caught life froim his light." BEYOND 7TIE POTOMAC. THEY slept on the field which their valor They arose with the sun, and caught life had won, from his light, But arose with the first early blush of Those giants of courage, those Anaks in the sun, fight, For they knew that a great deed re- And they laughed out aloud in the joy mained to be done, of their mighlt, When they passed o'er the river. Mlarclinig swift for the river. w-ould rise, Anld, king,-like, flaslh up to the sun in the skies, O'er thleir pathl to the river. fo rlo i- oi, And slhe turi ned on tlhe foemien, full statm'edt iin scorn, Poinitilng steirni to tlhe iriveri. Aul( Potoinac flow ed c.liinly, scarce heavilo - g hi r b rigtsi. AWitlh her low-lying bil'low\-s,ill brighlt in the e-(st, For a charmii as from Go-d lul!et Il( waters to rest Of the fair rollinig r-iverl-. Buit their banner,3, sh1ot-scai-ried, and all darkened wiaihl gior,e. On a strong wind of iiiorniiig streamed wildly before, Like wings of death-alngels swept fast to the shlore, The green slore of the river. _s they mnarch, from the hlillside, tlhe lhamlet, the streamii, (;aauit thlrongs whomi the foeimen had manacled, teenim, Like men just aroused from some ter riible dream, To cross sternly the river. Passe(lt! pa ssed! the g lad tliodsands marelh safe tlirouglh the ti(le; Itaik, foemiiani, and lhear tlle (d,eep knell of youre pr-i(de, Riniging w.eirdI-like and wil(l, p(ealinig iip fr-omIl tle side Of tlle calimi-flowing river. Tliev behold the liroad )anlners, blood darkenedl. vet fair, Aknd a momnenit dissolves tlle last spell of despair, AWhile a peal, as of victory, swells on the air, Rolling otut to the river. 'Neatlh a b)lowv swift a,ttl ~::, ty the ty rianit miia) fall: Vain. vaini! to hlis gods sw-ells a desolate call; Hatl his grave not beeni lhollowe(d, and wxNoveni his pall, Sinc(e they passed o'er the river? And that crv. with a thlousand strange echloings, spread, Till the ashes of heroes w-ere thlrilled in their bed. And the deep voice of passion surged up fr om tlhe d ead, ' Ay, pr ess oxt to the rice?,'" YE h! ssic ce t f ll e n(el is )itter, Talke (dow-ni thlost~ saced(l bells, Wlhose muiiisic speaks of hallowefl joys, And passion,atte farewNells! - 0 BEAUP,EGAIID', APl'E.4L. TH I,SUB, S' I'TE. 1But ere ye fall (lisinantleld, I-iling out. deep bells! onice I1o10e: Anal pour oni the w-aves of the passing winiid The symiiplhoniies of yoire. [TtlE crime of McNeil, lerl)etratted in one of our W estern States, has i(oNN- iet wvithl the reprobatioii of Christe n d(omi. itt at the time the following verses- cast, Cs tlhe reader will perceive, in a partly dratnn itc iould-were composed, ten Confederates had been hastily exeecuted by order of a Federal cmiienmailder, on et charge afterwards proveln to be false; and oi,e of thle unfortunate victims (a miere youth) voluntarily sacrifice(l his life to rescue his frien(dl, a ii manl advanced in years and witlh a large family. In the )(poem this latter in(lividual is represented as iiiamwtre of the youthl's resolve until it has been executed. Between the first and second parts of the piece, about twienty-four hours are supposed to have elapsed.] I,et tie la test )ol n lie fewelco ecl ByJ pmealinigs glad and long, i,et tlle latest dead in the churchliyard bed l,e laid with solemniii song. Anail the b)ells above tlhemi tlhrobl)inig, Sliould souild in mournful tone, .Ts if. ill grIief fo r a hu ilan deat h, They proplhesie(d tlleir ownA-i. -Whlo says'tis a desecration To strip the teml p le tovers, Anld invest tlle metal of peaceful notes W\ith death-coimipelling powNers? [PLACE-,A Fe(leral Pr isoee-A Coi.~federate chained. aid at Visitor. his Friied(l.q " How say'st thou? die to-inorrrow? Oh! mlly fr ield! The bitter, bitteri dooimi! OAWhat hast thou (lone to tempt this ghastly e end This death of slhame and gloomii? " A truce to cant aid( folly! Otir I)eople's ALi,iL at stake, Shall w-e heed(I the cryI- of the shallow fool, Or patise for the bigot's sake? I What done? J)o tyrants wait for guilty dee ds, To find or prove a crimeThey, wwho lhave cherished hatred's fiery seeds: Hot for the harvest-tinme? Then cIriush the strtiuggling sorrIow! Feel hiill vour fturnace fires, A11(I 111ouT(ld inllto deep-mnoutlhed -t ns of ibronze, The 1)ells from a hundlred spires. "A sneer! a smile! vaguie trifles light as air - Somne foolislh, false sullrmiseLead to the hliariowing (drama of despair Wherein - the victim (lies! -A(etlfiinks 110o co1iIO0 v-eni-geance, No transient w-ar eclipse, Will follow- the avwful tlhunder-burst Fromii their adamiiantinie lips. A- cause like ours is holy, An,iid it iiseth lholy thlingis; AWhile over the stormi of a righteous sti ife, MAay shine the an,gel's w-ings. "A 4nd I shall perish! Comrade, heed me not! For thus my tears lmust start - Not for the misery of my blasted lot, Buit hers who holds my heart! Whlere'er our duity leads us, Tlhe grace of (;o(I is there, And the lurid shrine of war may hold Tlie Euicl(aiist of prayer. "And theirs, the flowers that wreathe llny hlumbl)le hearth With roseate( 1)lsllsl and(I I)loom~ 75 7'IIL,' 7'1 7'U TE. PART 1. POEMIS OldF To-morrow eve, they stand alone on earth, Beside their father's tomb! W'E T VA IA-. " And now, farewell! The sentry's warning hand, Taps at my prison bars. We part, but not forever! There's a land, Comrade, beyond the stars! " "There's Blanche, my serious beauty, lithe and tall, With pensive eyes and brow - There's Kate, the tenderest darling of them all, Wvhose kisses thrill me now! " Yea!" said the youth, and o'er his kindling face A saint-like glory came, As if some prescient Angel, breathing grace, Had touched it into flame. " There's little Prose, the sunshine of our days A tricky, gladsome sprite - How vividly come back her winsome ways, Her laughters, and delight! [PLACE - Thle same Prison. PERSONS - Confederate Plrisoner, together with IlcNeil and the Jailer.] " And my brave boy - my Arthur! Did his armii Second his will and brain, I should not groanl beneath this iron charm, Clasping my chains in vain! The hours sink slow to sunset! Sud d eenly Rose a deep, gathering hum; And o'er the measured stride of soldiery Rolled out the nmuffled drum! The prisoner started! crushed a stifling siglih, Then rose erect and proud! Scorn's liglhtning quivering in his stormy eye, 'Neath the brow's thunder-cloud! " Oh, Christ! and hath it come to this? WAill none WAard off the ghastly end? And yet roetlhinks I heard the voice of one Who called the old man -Friend! " May all the curses caught from deepest hell Light on the blood-stained knave Who lau,lghs to hear the patriot's funeral knell, Blaspllhemingl o'er his grave! " Awav! Such dreams are madness! My- pale lips Had best b)esiege Heaven's ear, But in the ttiumoil of my mind's eclipse, -o thloughlt, no wish is clear. "Dear friend, forgive nme! Sorrow, frenzy, ire My bosomn's raging guests - By turn have whlelined me in their floods of fire, Fierce passions, swift unrests. 76 PAP,.T IT. And girding round his Iiinbs and stal wart breast Each iroii chain and ring, I-le stood subliine, iiiipei-ial, self-pos sesse(I - And haughty as a kin-! The "dead i-tiarcli " wails without the prison gate T-Tp the calm evening sky; And ruffian jestin,s, born of ruffian hate, 11 Make loud, unineet reply! The Iiired bravocs, Avllose pitiless features I,)ale In front of arined men, But wliose )i,i,(tfljiaiii))iotts courage will not quail Wliere none can strike a-aini. "The flowers that wreathle liy humible hearth With roseate blush and bloom." I BAT7'LE OF CHA4RLES'OX HARBOR. Thle " dead miarch" w'ails without the prisoIn wall, tp1) the cin evening sky: An,-l timed to tle dread dirge's rise and fall, MAove the fierce imurderers by! They haltecl where the woodland slhoweredl arounldl Dank leaflets on the sod, And all the air seemed vocal with the sound Of wild appeals to Go'3. Tley passedl and wN-onderin.g at his doom deferred,. T'li c.i'tvi-e's lofty fire ,',! i i. lis heart, by torluri-ig memories Of osd and of sire! Of hutibalnd, and of sir-e ,Heaped, as if coI1mmon cairrioni, in the gloom,i Nine mang,led corpses lay All speechless now —but wvithl what t,ongues of dloomn Reser-veJ for,- juidgmiientl day-. Btu ha:l' the claslh of bolt ancl opening door'o Tl(e tramljp of hostile leel!. W'lieii lo' ulpo)n the darikeiiing prison floo e. Glare l t.lie false loun f -McNeil. Andl near tlhem, bu' apart, one youthful foli' ll Pressed a fa:r- uplan(d slope, O'er wvliose wlhite brow a sunbealma flicker ing wi-armiii, Played like a leavenly h<>p)~e. And next himi, like a banldog scenting bloo, l, lRoutsel from his drunkenii ease, Thle gr,ilily, low —bro-wedl jailer gloweri,ng h stood., (lank Ii~ his iron keys. Thller e, aitl the saine granl look wolicl yestei-ni iglht That face a,, parting- wvore, The self-iimade imialrtyr in the sunset lighlt Slept oln his couch of goCe. " tuick! jailer! strike yon rebel's fetters off. And let the old( fool see \hliat rausoni [w-itli a low acnd bitter scoff], Whalt ransoni sets him free." Thle suline set a ied; thli wakeclie forest wvaved, Struck hy the nior-thl wivnd's iiioani, AWlhile lhe, wVhIose life thli3 s tchless deatl lhas sav,ted Klnelt by the corse-alon ie. As the nighlt traveller in a lanjl of foes 'Fhe wNarning ilnstinet feel -. ''Thlat thlroughl the treachlrous dimness andl repose A slii'outed horror steals. P,ATTLE OF (IIAlLE,S T'ON IlAl,BOn, ,e, at these veiled wAords, the captive's soull Slioolk w-ithl a solemin dreald, nil gh.ostly voices, prophlesying dole, MNoaned faintly overhlead. lTwvo hours, or imore, beyond the prime of a b)litlhe April day, The Nortlhmnen's mailed "Invincil)les" steamievl up) fair (hllai-lestoiin Bay; 'Thley caime in sullen file. a0 l slow, low breasted on0 the ws ave, 13lack as a imii(lniglhlt front of storm, and silentv as tlhe grave. Ilis limbs are freed! ills swarthly, scow,l iags tro te silent tow, T,e,a~ls tlirouigh thle s-ilent townNi, 77 i Wliei-e fi-om diiii caseiiiei-its. black witli ivi-atliftil pi-ide, Stei-ii eyes gleaiii (larkly dowii. APIIIL 7,1863. 78 POETS OF THE WAA. A thousand warrior-hearts beat high as these dread monsters drews 3Iore closely to the gamie of death across the breezeless blue, And twice tell thousand hearts of those T l ho w atch the scene afar, Thrill in the awful hush that bides the battle's broadening star. There's not, in all that line of flame, one soul that would not rise, To seize the victor's wreath of blood, though death must give the prize; There's not, in all this anxious crowd that throngs the ancient town, A maid who does not yearn for power to strike one foeman down! Each gunner, moveless by his gun, with rigid aspect stands, The reedy linstocks firmly grasped in bold, untreinbliiig hands, So moveless in their marble calm, their ste rn, heroic guise, They look like forms of statued stone with burning human eyes! The conflict deepens! ship by ship the proud Armnada sweeps, Where fierce from Sumter's raging breast the volleyed lightning leaps, And ship by ship, raked, overborne,'ere burned the sunset light, Crawls in the gloomn of baffled hate be yond the field of fight! Our banners on the outmost walls, with stately rustling fold, Flash back from arch and parapet the sunlight's ruddy goldThey mount to the deep roll of drums, anid widely echoing cheers, And then, once more, dark, breathless, hushed, wait the grim cannoln eers. WHIAT! still does the mother of treason - uprear Her crest'gainst the furies that darken her sea. Unquelled by mistrust, and unblanched by a fear, Unbowed her proud head, and un bending her knee, Calm, steadfast and free! Onward, in sullen file, and slot, low glooming on the wave, -Near, nearer still, the haughty fleet glides silent as the grave, Whien shivering the portentous calm o'er startle d f lood and shore, Broke from the sacred Island Fort the thunder wrath of yore! * Ay! launch your red lightnings! blas pheimie in your wrath! Shock earth, wave, and heaven with the blasts of your ire; But she seizes your death-bolts yet hot froin their path, And hurls back your lightnings and mocks at the fire Of your fruitless desire! The storm has burst! and while we speak, more furious, wilder, higher, Dart from the circling batteries a hundred tongues of fire; The waves gleam red, the lurid vault of heaven seems rent aboveFight on, oh, knightly gentlemen! for faith, and home, and love! Ringed round by her brave, a fierce cir clet of flaine Flashes up froii the sword-points that cover her breast; She is guarded by love, and enhaloed by fame, * Fort Moultrie. 78 POEMS OF THE WA I,'. I - 0 CHAI?LESTON AT THE CLOSE OF 1863. SCENE IN A COUNTliY HOSPITAL. 79 From the storied profound of past ages arise, And the pomps of their magical music outpour O'er the war-beaten shiore! And never, we swear, shall your foot steps be pressed, Where her dead heroes rest. Her voice shook the tyrant, sublime from her tongue Fell the accents of warning! a prophet ess grandOn her soil the first life notes of liberty rung, And the first staleart blow of her gauLntleted hand Broke the sleep of her land. Then gird your brave empress, 0 heroes! with flame Flashed up from the sword-points that cover her breast! She is guarded by Love and elnhaloed by Fame, And never, stern foe! shall your foot steps be pressed AWrhere her dead martyrs rest! What more? she hath grasped in her iron-bounid will The fate that would trample her honors to earth; The light in those deep eyes is luminous still With the warmth of her valor, the glow of her worth, Which illumine the earth. SCENE LV A COUNTR Y HOSPITAL. HERE, lonely, wounded and apart, From out my casement's glimmering round, I watch the wayward bluebirds dart Ac ross yo n fl owery ground; How sweet the prospect! and how fair The balmy peace of earth and air. And beside her a knight the great Bayard had loved, "Without fear or reproach," lifts her banner on high; He stands in the vanguard majestic, un moved, And a thousand firm souls when that chieftain is nigh, Vow "'tis easy to die!" But, lowering over fields afar, A red cloud breaks with sulphurous breath, And well I know what gory star, Is regnant in his house of death; Yet faint the conflict's gathering roll, To the fierce tempest in my soul. Their words have gone forth on the fet terless air, The world's breath is hushed at the conflict! Before Gleams the bright form of Freedom, with wreaths in her hair And what though the chaplet be crim soned wi th g ore We shall prize her the more! I, who the foremost ranks had led, To strike for cherished home and land, Groan idly on this torturing bed, With broken frame and palsied hand, So nerveless,'tis a task to scare, The insects fluttering round my hair. 0 God! for one brief hour again, Of that grim joy my spirit knew, When foemen's life-blood poured like rain, And sabres flashed and trumpets blewOne hour to smite, or smitten die On the wild breast of vietorv! And while Freedom lures on with her passionate eyes To the height of her promise, the voices of yore SCENE IAT A COUNTRY IIOSPITAL. 79 sPO~(EJS OF IE' AI E. It may not be; my pulses beat Too feebly, and mily heart is chllill. Death, like a thief with stealthy feet D)iaws Ilighl to work his ruthless will; Ilope, Ihonor, Glory, pass ime by, But he stands near with miocking eye! Then turi-led in the silver y laugh ter To the sports which chil(lreni love, Thrice-mailedi in the sweet, instinictive thought That the good Goal watche( above. Yet the hailing bolts fell faster, FAoII scores of flame-cla d ships, Anld about us, denser, dlarker, Grew the conflict's wild eclipse, Till a solid clouid closed o'er us, Like a type of dooii an(d ire, Wlhelnce shot a tlhouisand quiveriiig l ongues Of forked and( vengaeful fire. Ay. smooth the couch! - pour out the draughlt,Al That, lhaply, for a season's space, fIatli i)ower to charm his fatal shaft, And swarn the deathl-daimps off my face, A blest reprieve!-a woiondlrous boon, Thanlk Heaven! this - all - encts with me soon. Buit the ilseel hand(s of angels Those death-slhafts w-arne(l asid(le, And the (love of heavenly mercy Buule(t o'ef the )attle tide; In the houises ceased the wailing, And tlhrouiglh the war-scarre(I marts The people strode, witlh step of hope, To the music in their hearts. FoR sixty days and upw-ar(ls, A stoeim of shell and shot Rained round us in a flaming shower, But still we faltered not. "If the noble city perish,"T Our grand yoniig leader said, "Let the only walls the foe shall scale "Be ramparts of the dead!" THE early springtime faintly flushed the earth, And in the woods, and by their favorite stream The fair, wild roses blossomed modestly, Above the wave that wooed them: there at eve, Philip had brought the womnan that lihe loved, And told his love, and bared his burning heart. She, Constance, - the shy sunbeams trembling oft, Through dewy leaves upon her golden hlaiir, - Made him no answer, tapped her pretty foot, And seemed to muse: " To-mor row I depart, " Said Philip, sadly, " for wild fields of war; For sixty days and upwards, The eye of heaven waxed dim; Aild e'en throughout God's holy miorn, O'er Christian prayer and hymn, Arose a hissing tumul t, As if the fiends in air Strove to engulf the voice of faith In the shrieks of their despair. There was wailing in the houses, There was trembling on the marts, While the tempest raged and thundered, 'Mid the silent thiill of hearts; But the Lord, our shield, was with us, And ere a mon th had sped, Our very women walked the streets AVith scarce one throb of dread. And the little children gambolled, Their faces purely raised, Just for a wondering moment, As the huge bombs whirled and blazed, I i i I I I so I 6 T'IC'KSBUP,G.-A B,4LLAD. 0 7'Hl,- L[7'7'LE IVRI7'F- GLOTIL,. i i THE LITTLE WVIITE GLOVE. 81 Shall I go girt with love's invisible A soft mist filled her eyes, and over mail, flowed Stronger than mortal arminor, or, all In sudden rain of passion, as she stripped stretched Of love and hope, march reckless unto Her delicate hand to his, and plilghted death?'' troth, "And by their favorite stream, The fair, wild roses blossomed modestly Above the wave that wooed them." With lips more rosy than the sun-bathed This little glove upon our marriage flowers; eve." And Philip pressed the dear hand fer- And Constance heard him, smniling vently, through her tears. Wherefrom in happy mood, he gently Another springtime faintly flushed the drew earth, A small white glove, and ere she guessed And in the woods, and by their favorite his will, stream, Clipped lightly from her head one golden The failr, wild roses blossomed modestly curl, Above the wave that wooed them: there And bound the glove, and placed it next at eve his heart. Came a pale woman with wild, wander ing eyes, "Now I am safe," cried Philip; "this And tangled, golden ringlets, and weak pure charm steps Is proof against all hazard or mischance. Tottering towards the streamlet's ripHere, yea, unto this self-same spot I vow pling mniarge, To bring it stainless back; and you shall She seemed phantasmal, shadowy, like wear the forms 82 POEM$ ()' IJIE fVL411. To flush the golden pathways of the sky; All things are lost in dread eternity,States, empires, creeds, the lay Of master poets, even the shapes of love, Bear ever with them an invisible shade, Whose name isDeath; we cannot breathe nor nlove, But that we touch the darkness, till dis mayed, We feel the imperious shadow freeze our hearts, And mortal hope grows pale and flutter ing life departs. All things are lost in dread eternity, Save that majestic virtue which is given Once, twice, perchance beneath our earthly heaven, To some great soul in ages: O! the lie, The base, incarnate lie we call the world, Shakes at his coming, as the forest shakes, When mountain storms, with bannered clouds unfurled, Rush down and rend it; sleek conven tion drops Its glittering mass, and hoary, cob webbed rules Of petty charlatans or insolent fools Shrink to annihilation, - Truth awakes, A morning splendor in her fearless eyes, Touching the delicate stops Of some rare lute which breathes of promise fair, Or pouring on the covenanted air A trumpet blast which startles, but makes strong, While ancient Wrong, Driven like a beast from his deep-cav erned lair, Grows gaunt, and inly quakes, Knowing that retribution draws so near! By moonlight conjured up from a place of graves; There, crouching o'er the stream, she laved and laved Some object in it, with a strained regard. And muttered fragments of distempered words, Whereof were these: "He vowed to bring it back, The love-charm that I gave him- my white gloveStainless and whole. He has not kept his oath! Oh, Philip, Philip! have you cast me off, Off, like this worthless thing you send nle home, Tattered and mildewed? Look you! what a rent, Right through the palmn! It cannot be my glove; And look again; what horrid stain is here? MIy glove; you placed it next your heart, and swore To keep it safe, and on this self-same spot, Return it to me on our marriage eve; And now - and now - I know'tis not my glove, - Yet Philip, sweet! it was a cruel jest, You surely did not mean to fright me thus?e For hark you! as I laved the loathsome thing, To see what stain defiled it -(do not smile, I feel that I am foolish, foolish, Phil ip) But, God of Heaven! I dreamed that stain was blood! " THE fashions and the forms of men decay, The seasons perish, the calm sunsets die, Ne'er with the same bright pomp of clou(l Or rqv i I I I 82 POEMS O-P' IV,41,'. STONEIVALL JICKSON. Whether with blade or pen Toil these immortal men, Theirs is the light supreme, which genius wed To a clea,r s-nirittial dower, STONEWALL JACKSON. Itlath ever o'er the aroused nations shed Joy, faith, and power; Whether from wrestling with the god like thought, They launch a noiseless blessing on mankind, Or through wild streams of terrible car nage brotught, No longer crushed and blind, Trampled, dishevelled, gored, They proudly lift, where kindling soul and eye Mlay feast upon her beauty as she stands (Girt by the strength of her invincible bands), And freed throughl keen redemption of the sword, Thy worn, but radiant form, victorious Liberty! WVhen in his knightly glory " Stonewall" fell, And all our hearts sank with him; for we knew Our staff, our bulwark broken, the fine clew To freedom snapped, his hands had held alone, Through all the storms of battle over blown, - Lost, buried, mlouldering in our hero's grave. O soul! so simple, yet sublime! With faithI as large, and mild As that of some benignant, trustful child, Who inounts to heaven on bright, ethe real stairs Of tender-worded prayers,Yet strong as if a Titanii's force were there To rise, to act, to suffer, and to dare, O soul! that on our time Wrought, in the calm magnificence of power To ends so noble, that an antique light Of grace and virtue streamed along thy way, Until the direst hour Of carnage caiiughlt from that imlmaculate ray A consecration, and a sanctity! Thou art not dead, thou nevermore canst die, But wide and far, Where'er on Christian realln3 the inorn ing star Flames round the spires that tower towards the sky, Thy name, a household word, In cottage homes, by palace walls, is hea rd, Breathed with low murmurs, revelren tially! We bowv before this grandeur of the spirit; WVe worship, and adore God's image burning through it ever more; And thus, in awved humility to-night,* As those who at some vast cathedral door Pause with hushed faces, purified de sires, AAe contemplate his merit, Who lifted failure to the heights of fame, And by the side of fainting, dying right,. Stood, as Sir Galahad pure, Sir Lance lot brave, The quick, indignant fires Flushing his pale brow from the passion ate Imind -No strength could quell, no sophistry could bind, Until that moment, big with mystic doonm (Wlliose issue sent O'er the long wastes of half a conti nent Electric shudders through the deepening gloom), Even as I raise this faltering song to on e, Who now beyond the emipir-es of the sun, I This O)de was origiually written to be (deliveredt before a Southern patriotic associat-oii. 83 84 POEMS OF TilE WAR. Looks down perchalnce upon our mourn ful sphere, WA-ithl the deep pity of seraphic eyes, Falecy iunveils thle future, and I see MLillions on millions, as year follows year, Gatler around our w-arrior's place of rest In the green shadows of Virginian hills; Not with the glow- of martial blazonry, AWitlh trmunrp and miiuffled drum, Those pilgr-im millions come, But w-itlh l)ow-ed heads, and measured footsteps slow, As those whlo near the presence of a shrin-ie, And feel an air dlivine, All round about them blandly, sweetly blowpac, AWhile like dreamn-mnuisic the faint fall of rills, Lapsing fromi steep to steep, The wood(-dov-e'plaining in her covert deep, And( the long wlhisperings of the ghostly pine (Like ocean-breathings borne from tides of sleep), WAitlh every varied melody expressed In Nature s score of solemn harlmonies, Blends witll a feeling in the reverent breast AWhich cannot find a voice in mortal speech, So deep, so deep it lies beyond the reach Of stammering words, - the pilgriims only know That slumbering, O! so calmly there, below The dlewy grass, the melancholy trees, Moulders the dust of him, By whose crystalline famne, earth's scar let pomps grow dim, The crowned lheir Of two majestic immortalities, That which is earthly, and yet scarce of earth, lWhose fruitful seeds Were his own grand, self-sacrificing deeds, And that whose awful birth Flowered into instant perfectness sub liim-ie, Wvhen done with toil and tiine, He shook frotn off the raiments of his so ul, The weary conflict's desecrating dust, For stern reveilles, heard the angels sing, For battle turinoils found eternal calm, Laid down his sinless sword to clasp the paln, And where vast heavenly organ-notes outroll Melodious thunders,'imiid the rush of wing, And flaslh of plutmie celestial, paused iin peace, A rapture of ineffable release To know the long fruition of the just! ON TIIE CIIIVALR-Y OF TIIE I'IESENT TIMIE. AII! foolish souls and false! Iwho loudly cried "True chivalry no longer bre athes in time. " Look round us now; how wondrous, how suiblimne The hero ic lives we wit ness; far a nd wide, Stern vows by ste rner deeds are justified; Self abnegation, calmness, courage, power, Sway with a rule august, our stormy hour, Wherein the loftiest hearts have w rioughlt and diedWrought grandly, and died smiling. Thus, oh God, From tears, and blood, and anguish, thou lhast broughlt The ennobling act, the faith-sustaining thought'Till in the marvellous present, one may see POEMS OF I'RE WAR. 84 0 SO-VEI',. 1. SONNETS. 85 A mighlty stage, by knight and patriots t rod, lhlo had not shunned earth's haughtiest chi-valry. In a wild and weird procession They sweep by my startled eyes, And stern with th eir Fate's fruition, Seem imeltinig in blood-red skies. HIave they come from the shores super nal; Have they passed from the spirit's goal, 'Xeatlh the veil of the life eternal To (lawn on my shlrinking soul? IIave they turned from the choiring angels, Aghast at thle woe and deartlh, That war with his dark evangels tIath wrought in the loved of earth? ELLIOTT IN- FORT SUM AITER. A\D high amongst these chiefs of iron grain, Large-statured natures, souls of Spartan mlien, Supecbly brave. inflexibly serene, Man of the stalvart hope, the sleepless brain. Well dost tlhou guard(l our fortress by the mlain'.t And -whlat, tlhough inch by inch old( Stiimlter falls, There's not a stone that forms those sacred w-alls, But holds a tongue, vwhichl shlall not speak in vaini! A- tongue that tells of such heroic mnood, Such nerved endurance, such immaculate w-ill, That after times slall hearken and grow still, With breathless adlniration, and on the e (Whllose stern resolve our glorious cause iolade g ood). Confer an antique immiiortality! Vain dreaiu! amid far-off moultains They lie where the dewv lIlists weep, And( the iimurmur of mouirnful fountains Breathes over their p~ainiless sleep; On thle breast of the lonely meadows Safe, safe, from the despot's will, They rest in the starlit shllaows, And their brows are white and still, Alas! for outr heroes perished! Cuit (lown at tlheir golden prime, With the luminous hopes they cherished, On the height of their faith sublime! For them is the voice of wailing And( the swxeet blush-rose departs From the chleeks of the miaidens paling O'er the wreck of their broken hearts. I A_M sitting alone and weary, By the hlearthl of mny darkened room, And the low wind's iiiser-er-e, -Makes sadder the midnight glooim. "Tllere's a namieless terror nigh me There's a phlantomi spell on the air, And mietlhilks, that the dead glide by me, AndI(I the breath of the grave's in my lhair!" And alas! for the b.i vnislhe( glory Of a thousand household spells! And alas! for the tearful story Of tlhe spilit's fon-d farewells! By the flood, on the field, in the forest, Our bravest have yielded breath, Yet the shafts that have smitten the sorest, WN'ere launched by a viewless death. Olh, Thlou! that hlast chlarms of hlealing, Descend on a widowed land, And binid o'er the woun-ds of feeling, The balms Of thy mnystic hand; 'Tis a vision of ghastly faces, All pallid and worn with pain, Where the splendor of manful graces Shines di]n thlro' a scarlet rain: — 85 SONNETS. II. 10 0 U, I,' illa l,T Yl?,5. POEiMS OF IIE WAR. Till the lives that lament and languish, Renewed by a touch divine, From the depths of their mortal anguish, May rise to the calm of Thine. FOR, G 0 TTENV. FORGOTTEN-! Can it be a few swift rounds Of Time's great chariot wheels have crushed to naught The memory of those fearful sights and sounds, WAVith speechless misery fraughtWheretliro' we hope to gain the Hespe rian height, AWhere Freedom smniles in light?o Forgotten! scarce have two dim autumns veiled With merciful mist those dreary burial sods, AWhose coldness (when the high-strung pulses failed, Of men who strove like gods) Wrapped in a sanguine fold of senseless dust Dead hearts and perished trust! Forgotten! While in far-off woodland dell, By lonely mnountain tarn and murmur ing stream, Bereaved hearts with sorrowful passion swell - Their lives one ghastly dream Of hope outwearied and betrayed desire, And anguish crowned with fire! Forgotten! while our manhood cursed with chains, And pilloried high for all the world to view, AVWritles in its fierce, intolerable pains, Decked with dull wreaths of rile, And shedding blood for tears, hands waled witlh scars, Lifts to the dumlb, cold stars! Forgotten! Can the dancer's jocund feet Flash o'er a charnel-vault, and maid ens fair Bend the white lustre of their eyelids sweet, Love-weighed, so niglh despair, Its ice-cold breathl must freeze their blushing brows, And hush love's tremulous vows? Forgotten! Nay: but all the songs we sing Hold und(ler-burdens, wailing chords of woe; Our lightest laughters sound withi hollowv r'inig, Our bright wit's freest flow, Quavers to sudden silence of affrighlit, O r, wh en we do, farewell to Honor's face, To Hope's sweet tendance, Valor's uii paid debt, And every noblest Grace, Which, nursed in Love, might still be nignly bloom. Above a nation's tomb! Forgotten! Tlho' a thousand years should pass, Alethinks our air will throb with mei ory's thrills, A conscious grief weigh down the falter ing grass, A pathos shroud the hills, Waves roll lamenting, autumn sunsets yearn For the old time's return! 86 I LEGENDS AND LYRICS. -t LEGE-NDS AND LYRICS. 1865-1872. Naught of the secret charm, the subtle stress Of beauty wed to warmn unselfishness, Which, in her hour of trial, wrapped the Queen Safely apart in golden air serene Of deep devotion, and fond faith of those The steadfast hearts betwixt her and her foes. The oldest courtier, schooled in state claft guile, Some loyal fire at her entrancing smile Felt strangely kindled in his outworn soul; Far more the warrior youths her soft control apoulded to noble d(leed(s, till all the land, Aroused at Love's and Honor's joint colmmand, Bristled with steel and rang with sounds of war. AN AR-GIVE STORY. O-XCE on the throne of Argos sat a maid, Daphlles the fair; serene and unafraid ,lhe ruled her realh, for the rough folk were brought To worship one they deemed divinely wrought Inl beauty and mild graciousness of heart: Nobl)les and courtiers, too, espoused her part, So that the sweet young face all thronged to see, (;lanced from her throne-room's silken canopy (Broidered with leaves, and many a snow-white dlove), Nosily conscious of her people's love. Only the chief of a far frontier clan, A haughty,v. bold, ambitious nobleman, By law her vassal, but self-sworn to be From subject-tithe and tribute boldly free, And scorning most this weak girl-sover eign's reign, Now from the mountain fastness to the plain Summoned his savage legions to the fight,Wherein he hoped to wrench the imperial might From Daphles, and confirm his claim thereto. But Doracles, the insurgent chief, could know Still rashly trusting in his fortunate star, This arrogant thrall who fain would grasp a crown, Backed by lhalf-barbarolus hordes, marched swiftly down 'Twixt the hill ramparts and the WVest ern Sea. First, blazing homesteads greet him, whence did flee The frightened hinds througth fires them selves had lit 'Mid the ripe grain, lest foes should reap of it; Or here and there, some groups of aged folk, I DAPHLES. JLEGENDS AND LYRICS. Womllen and men bent down beneath the yoke Of cruel years and babbling idiot speech. Methilks," cried Doracles,'" our arms will reach The realm's unshielded heart; for lo! the breath, The mere hot fume of rapine and of death Which flames before our legions like a blight Withers this people's valor and their might." The fifes played shriller; the wild trumpet's blast Smote the great host and thrilled them as it passed; While clashing shields, and spears which caught the morn, And splendid banners in strong hands upborne, And plumed helms, and steeds of match less race, And in the van that clear, keen eagle face Of Doracles, firm set on shoulders tall, Squared like a rock, and towering o'er them all, With all the pomp and swell of martial strife, Woke the burnt plains and bleak de files to life. So phalanx after phalanx glittering filed Firm to the front: their haughty leader smiled To see with what a bold and buoyant air The lowliest footman marched before him there, Till his proud head he lifted to the sun, And his heart leaped as at a victory won That self-same hour, o'er which bright hovering shone The steadfast image of an ivory throne. But the Queen's host by skilful cham pions led, Its powers meanwhile concentred to a head, eye, Ready to ward or strike whene'er the cry Of coming foemnen on their ears should fall, Nighl the huge towers which guard the capital. Not long their watch: one bluff October day, There rose a blare of trumpets far away, And sound of tihronging hoofs which imuffled came, Borne on wid li the wind, like the dull noise of flaimie Half stifled in dense w ood lands; t he n the wings Of the Queen's host, a s each swift section flings Thde impe r i al b anner proudly fluttering out, Spread from the royal centre. Hark! a slhouit, As fromth those thousand hearts in one great soul Sublimely fused, rose thunder-deep, to roll, In wild acclaim, far down the quivering van; And wilder st ill the heroic tumult ran From front to rear, when through her palace gate, Daphles, in unaccustomed martial state, A keen spear shimmering in its silver hold, And on her brow the Argive crown of gold, Flashed like a sunbeam on her warriors' sight. Girt by her generals, on a neighboring height She reined her Lybian courser, while the air Played with the bright waves of her meteor hair, And on her lovely April face the tide Of varied feeling-now a jubilant pride 90 Lay, aii embattled force witli wary DAPHLES. 91 In those strong arms and stronger hearts below, And now a prescient fear did ebb and flow, Its sensitive heaven transforming mno incuntly. But soon the foeman's cohorts, like a sea, With waves of steel, and foam of snIow white plumes, Slowly emerged from out the forest glooms, In splendid pomp and antique pageantry. An ominous pause! And then the trumpets high Sounded the terrible onset, and the field Rocked as with earthquake, and the thick air reeled With clangors fierce from echoing hill to hlill. Bloody but brief the contest! All the skill Of Doracles against the steadfast will Planted by love in faithful hearts that day Frothed like an idle tide that slips away From granite walls! His knights their furious blows Dischiarged on what seemed statues Nwhose repose Was iron, or their fated coursers hurled On spears unbent as bases of a world! Mleanwhile the whole dread scene did Daphles view With anguished, tearless eyes. But when she knew The victory hers, down the hill-slopes she urged Her restless steed, where still but faintly surged The last worn waves of tumult; there her bands Of conquering captains she with fervent hands And o'erfraughlit swelling breast did proudly greet; Yet her pale face was touched with pity sweet worn and sore With ghastly wounds, and shivering in their gore. But when, untamed, uneowed, in'midst of these, The grand, defiant form of Doracles Rose like a god discrowned, her wan cheeks flushed, And through lher heart a quick, hot tor rent rushed Of undefined, mysterious sympathy. Viewing that haughty brow, that unbent knee, " O kingly head! " she thought, "too well I know How bitter-keen to him the signal blow This day hath dealt! O kingly resolute eyes, Shrining the sov'ran soul!'twere surely wise To change their glance of cold vindictive gloom To grateful light, and make what seemed a doomn Heavy as death, the clouded path to fame, Lordship, and honori! " Ah, but pity came To crown admiring kindness with a flame Of subtler life; for he, the vanquished one, On whom that day his fate's malignant sun Had set in storms, that night would slumber, kissed By a fair phantom girt with golden miist, A new-born delicate love, but dimly guessed Even in the pure depths of the maiden breast, Whence the sweet sylph had'scapedi her unaware. But when the evening silence drew anear, And round about the borders of the world DAPHLES. 91 While the cliained rebels passed lier LEGENDS AND LIRICS. Or comprehend her mercy's cordial test furled Its brooding shades, the young Queen, all alone, Paused by the dungeon floor whereon were thrown, At listless length, the limbs of Doracles. "How, how," she murmured, "may I best appease His stricken pride, or touch to tender calm His fevered honor? with what healing balm Allay the smart wherewith his spirit groans? " Perplexed, and yearning, on the dismal stones WAVithout the prison door she walked apart, Love, doubt, and shamne, all struggling in her heart, Till the large flood of mingled love and woe Rose to her snowy eyelids and did flow In soft refreshing tears like spring-tide showers; Then, bright and blushing as the nmoss rose bowers Of dewy May, she pushed the huge grate back, And through the dusky glooms, the shadows black Dawned glowingly! Next for a moment she Stood in a timnid, strange uncertainty, Changing from rosy red to deathly white; When, as a Queen sustained by true love's right, She spake in imild, pure, steadfastness of soul: "I come, 0 Doracles, with no mean dole Of transient pity, but to show thee how Thy mistress would exalt the abased brow Of one who knows her not!" There with she freed Iis fettered limbs,or yet his brain could heed scope: His soul had shrunk too low for dreams of hope, Such swift misfortunes smote him: still, when all The Queen's fair meaning on his mind did fall, The locked and frozen sternness of his look Broke up, as breaks the deathli-cold win try brook Its icy spell at noonday; yet his face WTas lighted not by thankful, reveren t grace, But flashed an evil t r i umph wh ere he stood Spurning his unloosed chains. In such base mood, One eager foot pressed on the ducngeon stair, Wh" at terms," le asked, " 0 Quee n, dedei al(ud'st thou her e? I pled e thee f aith!" Silent were D)aphles' lips, An d all hei gentle hopes by swift eclipse Wiere d arkened. Wi th a deathl y smile she signed The chief farewell, as one who scorned to bind Her mercy with set terms. tie turned to go, Self-centred, callous, dreaming not how low Her heart had sunk at each cold, shallow word With which his barren nature, faintly stirred By ruth, or love, or pardon, dared repay Her matchless mercy. On his unchecked way Hie turned to go, when, with one shud dering sob, And deep-drawn, plaintive breath, which seemed to rob Life of its last dear hope, the Queen sank down, Wrapped in a deathlike trance. With sullen flown, 92 The second ni,ht since that great con DAPHL~. 93 Anld mniany a muttered oath, he raised her formn, Frail now- as some pale lily by the storm AWid(-blown- and beaten; for at woomant's love lie could but vaguely guess, and no poor dove Pierced by the woodman's shaft was less to him Than this fair spirit struggling in the dimii nii(l tortured twilight of unshared de sir-e; Nor could hlie part the pure romantic fire Of such high passion from the lukewarmi flaime That feebly burns in sordid hearts and tailne, Not of love's heat, but vacant flattery's born, To feed his pride, yet stir the latent scorn Of that roughl manhood such hard na tures kno-w. WaVked froni her trance, with wandering eyes and slow The Queen looked round, but dimly con sciouls yet, Until at last her faltering glance was set On Doracles, to whom-that he might see How a soft ruth to love's intensity Had strangely grown -she laid her deep heart bare: Then, with a sweet but nobly queen-like air, She said, " O Doracles, in just return For all this love and pity, which did yearn To lift thee fallen, and to find thee, lost, And slowly sickening under neath the frost Of bleak despair, I well might ask of thee Thy heart, with all its rarest freight in fee, Save that I feel my virgin fame and life Must count as pure, when thou hast made me wife, alone. Behold, O clief! I proffer, too, my thrlonle, oNot as thy freedom's sole condition given, But that nien's eyes and scornful thoughts be driven Away fromi what in me may seem as ill, If - if - perchance, thou shliouldst reject me still." At which hard word she droops her head, and sighs, While patient tears bedew her downcast eyes. Now, with sly semblance of a soul at ease, IHer liberal proffer crafty Doracles Freely embraced. They passed the prison-b o uund, And that same day with silver-ringing sound Of trump and cymbal, the state heralds cried Abroad through all the city, far and wide, The Queen's vast pardon; whereupon her court,Nobles and dames, each quaintly gor gIeous sport, Known in the old time, bold or debon air, With feasts, and mimic strifes, and pa geants rare, Did hold in honor of their sovereign's choice; A choice none there would question! Not a voice, Gentle or simple, but was raised to bless, And pray the kindly gods for happiness And peace on both! Meanwhile the thrall made king, Albeit a secret anger still would wring His thankless soul, in princely fashion -DAPELES. 93 Thougli but ti wife in state and i-iame took The general lioma-e, nor by word or look LEGL'NXDS AND LYliiC,. Betrayed the festering consciousniess within: So gracious seemed he. Da)lphiles' lopes begin To wake, and whisper folnd, sweet. fool ish words Close to her heart, that flutters like a bird's Wooed in the spring-daw-n: yet, alas! alas! For joy that dies, and dreamy hopes that pass To nothingness! In'midst of this, her trust, Came a swift blow wh-ich smote her to the dust; News that her ingrate love had basely fled, Whither none knew. Scarce had this shaft been sped From fate's unerring bow, than swift again Hurtled a second steeped in poisoned pain; For now the whole dark truth caime sternly out: Leagued with her bitterest foes, a savage rout Of mountain-robbers o'er the frontier land, He unto whomi she proffered heart and hand, Kingdom and crown, had bared his treacherous blade, And of the great and just gods unafraid, Upreared his standard'neath the blood red star, And raised once more the incarnate curse of war! So from that day all gladness left the heart Of broken Daphles; she would muse apart From court and friends, her once blithe footsteps slow, Hier once proud head bowed down, and such wi ld wo e Crouched in the clouded depths of lmoiurn ful eyes wNsitlh sigl ls Deep almost as her own. At last, s he wrote (For still F h r soul lhaile(l, watery ani(l re ]note. Oie' b)eaimi of lp(e) a missive tender sweet, Clcarlsedo wa!F itll such pathos, to her d eli cate feet It might have lured a s pirit, nigh to death, And straight imbued wit h waro m coutpas sionate brieatlh A heart as cold as spires of Arctic ice! Ah, futile hope! Ah, fond and vain de vice! Not all the pl eading elo quence of wrong, Veiling its wounds, and goldect-soft as song Trilled by the brown Sicilian niightin gales, In dusky nooks of melancholy vales, Could melt the granite will of Doracles. Each tender line she sent him did but tease And sting his obdurate temper into hate, As if the deep harmonious terms that wait On truest love, were wasp-like, poisoned things: Her timorous hints, her sweet imagin ings, Far thoughts, and dreams evanishing, but high, Filled with the maiden dews of sanctity, He crushed, as one might crush in mad dened hours The fairest of the sisterhood of flowers; No further answer made he than could be Couched in brief terms of cold discourt esy, Holding all love —the noblest love on earth Of lesser moment than an insect's birth, 94 That few could i iark lier iiiisery bitt DAPHLES. Of wintry moonlight on Siberian snows; Her quivering mouth and chill con tracted brows Bespoke an inward torture, while from all The shrewd debate within that council hall Her dim thoughts wandered vaguely, lost and dumb. But when her pitying maidens round her come, And gently strive on her drooped head to place The self-same laurel garland which did grace Her warmn, white temples on that morn of strife And woeful victory, her sick brain seemed rife Once more with memories; in her hand she pressed The half-dead wreath, and o'er her flowing vest Strewed the plucked leaves those aimless fingers tore Unwittingly; which on the marble floor, Down fluttering, one by one, lay blurred and dead, Like the sere hopes her withliered heart had slhed, Smitten of love; for now she touched the close rOf the soul's dreamy autumn, and the snows Of winter soo0 would clasp her eyelids cold. Yea, soon, too soon! for while her fin get-s fold The garlan l loosely, and in fitful grief She still wolil( strip the circlet, leaf by leaf, Till now one-half the wareath is plucked and bare, She lifts her dim eyes, hearkening, as though'ware Of mystic voices calling on her name; Therewith her clieek, whence the quick, feverell flaie dark. That letter stifled the last healthful spark Of the Queen's flickering reason, turned her wit To wild and errant courses, sadly lit IB,y wandering stars, and orbs of fantasy. Deemninig that she full soon must sink and die, Daplhles. still true to that one dominant thought And firm affection which such ill had brought, Stimniioiied her learned scribes and bade themi draw After strict form and precedents of law, Her soleun testament; whereby she gave Her throne to Doracles, whene'er the grave Closed o'er her broken heart and huiim bled head. But now her chiefs and nobles, hard be stead By- circumstance, and dreading much lest hlie, The renegade, and rebel, who did flee Fromi love to league with license, yet should sway 'lhe honored Ar,give sceptre, on a (lay ('alled forth to solemn council and debate Lords liegemeni, ministers, to save the state From threatened tyranny and upstart rule: Thereto the wan Queen, powerless now to school Featutres or mind to subjugation meet, ~'aiie weakly tottering; in her lofty seat Slhe sank bewildered, listless; all could mark 13enieatlh her languid eyes the hollows dai-k. Aid - save that sometimes as she slowly turned IIer wasted formii, the fires of fever burned. Deatli's prescient blazon, on each sunken cleelw k Iler face, was palli,l as a cohl white streak 95 Btizzin- its life o,,it,twixt the dawn and 9(3 LEGENDS AND LYi?ICS. Had quite pulsed out, withl one last quiver, she Drops on the cushioned dais, passively; For death, more kind than love, lath brought her peace. Long was it ere her stricken realm could cease To mourn for Daphles; yet her burial rites, With all their mournful pomp, their sombre sights Funereal, scarce were passed, when her last will, Despite its hulLbling ternms, which ran kled still In all men's minds, her faithful courtiers sent, With news of that m6st sudden, sad event Which made him king, to restless Dor acles. What recked he then that to its bitterest lees A pure young soul had quaffed of mis ery' s cup, And after, death's? " MIy star,' he though,lit, " flames upl, Fronting the heights of empire! All is well!" Thereon, impelled by keen desire to dwell In his new realm, with reckless haste he rode From town to town. till now the grand abode, The palace of the royal Ar,ive race, Did rise before him in its lofty place, O'erlooking leagues of golden fields and streamns, Fair hills and shadowy vineyards, by great teams Of laboring oxen rifled mnorn by morn, Till the bared, tremulous branches swung forlorn 'Gainst the red flush of autuimn's sunset sky. Housed with rich state therein, full re gally The king his sovereign life and course began, Striving at one swift bound to reach the van Of princely fame; his rare nagnificence Of feasts, shows, pageants, and high splendors, whence The wondering guests all dazzled went their way, Grew to a world-wide proverb for dis play And costly lavishness. Yet one there was O'er whose gray head thlese days of pomp did pass Like purpling shadows o'er the faded grass: Wit touched him not to smniles, gay mu sic' s flow Fell powerless on his closed heart's secret woe, While at their feasts silent he sat, and grim. Ofttimes the king a cold glance cast on As one who marred their mirthful rev elr'y, And in the boisterous spring-tide of their glee Rose like a boding phantom! AIore and more He felt a vague, dimi trouble at the core Of his rude nature stirred, wlieue'er lie saw Phorb)as draw near; somiethingl akin to awNe, If not to dread, for this old( nman did stand Chliefest of I)apliles' mourners in her land, As chief of her life's friends, ere that black doom Stole from her heart its joy, her cheek it s bloofm. Just where the mellowed rays of noon day light Streamed through the curtained gloom, obscurely bright, 96 LEGENDS A-VD LYPICS. "Leagues of golden fields and streams, Fair hills and shadowy vineyards, by great tealils Of laboring oxen rifled miorni by more." DAPHLES. Aliil princely wise than he? Or art thou bold To deeIn 171e all iinwvortliy to behold tly brave forerunner?" Thereupon he knit I-lis rugged brows, the -whlile his soul was lit To keen, inipatient wrath. With trem b)liiig hands - I'ut not for fear - I'Phorbas unloosed the ballds, Studdedl w-ith diamondl points. which clasI)e(I tlle veil Close to its place. Thle startled prince grew pale, As there, ill all her fresh young grace, did shlinie The face of Dal)hles, with a smile di vine, Into arch diml)les rippling joyfully! Some faintly-penlsive memlory seemed to vie NhWithl deeper feelings, in the low, quick toile, Wherewith the king spake, whispering to his ownz Half-wakene(d heart, -" Certes, it could not be, That she, whlo owned the glorious face I see, Bright with all brightness of a young (delight, Yet pined and withered'neatli the fatal night Of starless grief!" To which, " Thy pardoni, sire," aThe old mail said, ";but ere my life's low fire HIlath quite goie out, I fain would free mlly Soul Of that which long hathl borne me care a i gnd ( 1o le; So, sovereign lord, list to the tale I tel!" And therewvitlhal did Phorb)as de(en it well To show how Daplhles' darkened life did wane; Itow love, first touclhed by doubt, soon changed to pain, riehlyl roiund, bl There lhungl, miii( many a stately por tr-ait, bound In fianies of costly ivory, carved and A picture. h-lichl the king's eyes oft had sought, W-itl auiotis w-oi(ler: for day following (1a v AWould Pliorl)as. muitely sorrowing, make (lelay (;oin 1' or ( foIing froiii the coIIIuncil-hall To v-ie- that muffled mystery on the wall. ()x-er it flowi-ed a veil of silvery hlLe, WAithl lhere and there fine threads of gold shot through The delicate w-oof; and -whoso chanced to turn .-A glalnce thereon, wvould feel his spirit burn To pierce the jealous veil w-hose folds mioight hideo Somiie priceless marvel. Nowv, at high noontide Of one calhni auitumi-in day, the kingi again tIet Pliorl)as - his w-orni features drawn wn-itlh pain. Aind in his eves the slharI) salt-rheuni- of agestill poring on the picture! "TlThou a sage'" Snleered Doracles, "yet idly bent, for sootlh, On vaporiing fancies?" Then, more harsh. "The truth! The ti,ith, old( i man! What strong spell drags theel here? (Some chairm. rethinks,'tw-ixt passion and(( despair:) MAorn after morn., forcing thine eyes to strav ()'er you b)lank mystery? Prythlee, Pliorbas, say What ilnage lurks beneath that glinmmer ing shroud? Perchance the last king's?' Well! am I less -p d ota(d )7 AVIiieli wrapped the great ai-t-,,alleries LEGENDS AND LYIRICS. Of ruder thoughts, but thickly mutter illg, laid On the fair portrait of the sovereign miiaid A reverent hand; fromn'midst the painted dome Of the great gallery forth he bore it home tUnto the secret clamber of his rest; There next his couch he placed the beau teoiis guest; There feasted on its sweetness; and since naugtlt Of public imlport now did claim his thought, uNo fierce war threatened, no shrewd trea ties pr-essed, Strangely the picture mastered him; it grew, As days, then weeks, and seasons, o'er him flew, A part, an inmost essence of all life, Whlichl touched to joy or thrilled to shuddering strife The soul's deep-seated issues: yet, at last, Stronger the fierce strife waxed; the bliss was passed; And, wlieresoe'er the king went, night or day, One hauniting plhantomu barred his dooiiibd way! But ere hlie reached the worst wild stage of MWOe, Through many a change of passion, swift or slow, The king passed downward, nearing treacherous deatlh; And thus it happed, our old-world legend saith: The more hlie gazed on Dapliles' blooming face, All flushed withli happy youth and Hebe grace, The more her marvellous image seemed alive; Ile saw, or dreamed he saw, the warm blood strive, stress WArecked and made bare her perfect loveliness, O'erwlihelmiig wit with beauty. "Still," said lie, "0 sire! to her last hour most tenderlv She spake of thee, her twilight reason set On the sole thought,'MIy love.Iicty lore li,, yet: Fc)' 1)-'s lore comies twith kizotle(flge, s.o I (lee))i, iStoit-he.t'te(1.)qIffs!' Ah, heaven! she coull not dream, But thly name filled her dreams. When madness stole Like a dread mist about her, and her soul, ANounid in its viewless cerement-folds accursed Mladness!" the king cried in a sharp outbnU'st Of wild amazement: " madness! Ihave known The mad impatience of a wvill o'ergrown, When sternly thwarted in its fiery zeal, But dreamed not how these fairy creat uires feel, These soft, frail-iiatured women, if, per chance. Love turn on them a cold or lukewarm glance Of brief denial " Then the impatient red, In a swift flood,- but not of anger, spread O'er the king' s face; convulsed it seemed, and stern. But wlhen from garrulous Phorbas he did learn How the queen's laurel wreath half bare became, The hot blood ebbed, and o'er its waning flame Coursed the first tear his warrior-soul h ad shed. Nor could he rouse again the lustihead 98 And, last, blank desolation, -,N-liose wild DAH-.9 Distempered, moody, sometimes nigh distraught r vWith ceaseless pressure of one harrow ing thought, He grew, and hapless thrills of lonely pain; Her picture, imaged on his heart and brain, Ruled all his tides of being, as the mioon Draws changeful seas; now ill a clear high noon Of memories bitter-sweet his soul would swimi, Anon to sink in turbulent gulfs and dim Of wild regret, or as the dead to lie Locked in a mute, life-withliering leth argy. Creator sweet of all his fortunes high, Ohl, that in Hades she could hear his cl'y PReiinorseful, and come back in pitying guise To ease his grief and caln his tortured sighs! A thousand, thousand times this wild desire Would wake, and surge through all his veins like fire: Followed, alas, too soon, by such deep sense Of powerless will, and mortal impotence, As in red hurry up fromt soul to cheeks uilns riotin,, and ever harshly seeks To drag them into gaunt, gray lines of care! bMIonths sped eventless, with his dark despair Grown darker; till, one sad November l,lorn, Set to the rhythmic wail of winds for lorn, They found, just where the morning's shadowy gloom Had gathered deepest in the prince's room, His prostrate body, cold and turned in par t Upwards, -the blade's hilt glittering o'er his heart, dye tier lovely brow and swanllike n-eck, or vie Weith Syrian roses on her cheeks of flame; The mole lie gazed, the more her lips became Instinct with timorous motion, till a sigh, New-born of lioneyed love unwittingly, 5eemed lhovering like a murmurous fairy bee About their rich, half-parted comeli niess: ANWhat slight breath softly stirs the truant tress, Which like a waif of sunset lighlt did rest In -wanidering golden lustre on her breast? And -whlat dealr thought her bosom gra cioulsl)lleaves into gentle billows, like a sea MNooii-kissedl. and whlispering? Thus the king would task Lndie hodU s c-it i do t ig usting qestios, advhee the mask Of (lull state forims and ceremonial play AFith wieari ed br ain and nd han h as ceast away, Anld lie a d ead maild's c rafty image turned To breathing life, and blissful love that burned From her w ildl pulses and fond heart to his, Anid on her mouth he pressed a bride groolll's kiss. Then the sweet spell was broken; con science spoke; And in her burning depths pale memory woke. Evsen in that gentle shape his cold self w-ill Had strangely turned, and wrought him direful ill; .., -..! DAPHLE,. 99 In rtiddier tide, with conscious hues to LE(GENDS AND LY1RICS. Where his own mnad right arm had sent it home. Beneath hiim, in soft-tinted, fadeless bloollm, lBeneatlh hii smiled the portrait he had torn Madly from off the wall, his wan face borne Next the clear brightness of that life like one For whose fair sake lie lay, at last umi done; But whose glad smile, could she have lived that hour, Itad waned and withered inward, like a flower The stormi-wind( blights, at stern re veOn ge, like this, Of love' s cold scorn and passion's unpaid kiss. scorn! Weighed down by anxious thoughts, one sultry eve The warrior - his rude helmet cast aside - Rested his weary head upon the lap Of his fair wife, who loved him ten derly; And there hlie drank a generous draught of sleep. Slhe, gazing on his brow all worn with toil And his (lark locks, which pain had silvered over With glistening touches of a frosty riime, Wept on the sudden bitterly; her tears Fell on his face, and, wondering, he woke. "0 blest art thou, my Atlthra, my cleai skcy," He cried exultant, "fromn whose pitying blue A heart-lain falls to fertilize iny fate: Lo! the deep riddle's solved -the gods spake truth! " So the next night hlie stormed Tarentuin, took The enemoy's host at vantage, and o'er threw His mighltiest captains. Thence with kindly sway He ruled those pleasant regions he had WOll, - But dearer even than his rich demnesnes The love of her whose gentle tears un locked The close-shut mystery of the Oracle! aElNE s tED. WrELCOMZIE, rippling sunshine! Welcomiie, joyous air! Like a denioni shadow Flies the gaunt despair! ALS THPRA. IT is a sweet tradition, with a soul Of tenderest pathos! Ilearkenii, love! - for all The sacred undercurrents of the heart Thrill to its cordial music: Once, a chief, Phlilantus, king of Sparta, left the stern And( bleak defiles of his unfruitful land - Girt by a band of eager colonists To seek new homes on fair Italian plains. Apollo's oracle had darkly spoken: '17Wheite'er fr omit cloitdIess skies a pleniteouis shio?wer Otpt)ozt)'s, the Fates decree that ye shout(l pcatcse A-4i( recar yoder hou(se71ol(d c7eities!' Racked by doubt Philantus traversed with his faithful band Full many a bounteous realm; but still defeat Darkened his banners; and the strong w-alled towns i! *:'*-'.*: 100 His desperate sieges gi-iiiily laughed to, h1LNLWLD. lol Heav-en, through heighlts of hlappy calImo Its heart of hlearts uncloses, To win eartlh's answering lov-e in )baloi, H1r blushingi thlaniks -in roses! Voice s low an ds sweet Firomii the far-off str'eamIi, Wlhere two rivulets imieet WN'ith the IIiui-iiiur of a dream; Voices loud anid free Fromn every b)uislh ancd tree, Of sportive for-est bards olltpoUrlilg sonlgs of gladness; Butt over tlhemi still Witlh its passionate trill,. The iiock-bird1's jocund imiadinesss! VAoices frloml tlTe pine-grove, \Ahlere the pheasant's drumining, Voices firoi the fern-l hlills Ali-e wi-ithl ilisect liuiminilihg; Voi ces low aili sweet F10o11 the f ar -off streaml." Thle lone sea-eagle, circlilng proud and slow, Towers in the sapphire glow-; From out whlose dazzling beami, His resonant screamln; Heard even here, - a note of fierce desire, - Huishes to silent awe the sylvan choir. Till bird aind note in airy deeps u) drawn Are m-ieltinig toward the (aIwn! Deep (don-n the sw-ampy brake Ev-ien the poison-snake, lUncoiled anId b)asking in the noontilde splendclor, 3Iay feel. perclhance on this auspicious dav (All d(lark clouds rolled aw-ay), Tlhrouiglh his stagniant blood, Warmiiefl by the sunllighlt flood A faint, far sense, ComIing he knows nlot wlhence, Of (lim intelligence,The thinnest conscious thrill that humnan is, and tender! And heair! O! hear! No longer wxildly teirile and dlrear, But as if mnerriy pulses timed their beating, The fiolic sea-waves near, Look! where on luminous -wing The ether's stately king, lR E NE WE D. 101 LEGESDS AND L1RIICS1. Dancing along like happy maidensao playingce AWhlen blithe lov-e goes "a-Maying,,"' AnId wreaking on the shlore their pant in, blisses In coy impulsive kisses; Whilst lie - poor dullard - cannot catch 1nor hold tlleni, Nor in hlis massive, earthen armis en fold tlhem, The laughing virgin waves, so archly, swiftly fleetiig! This subtle atmosphere, So magically clear, MIelts, as it were upon my eager lip; From some invisible goblet of delight Idly I sip and sip A wine so warm and golden (From some enchanted bin the wine was stolen), A w-ine so sweet and rare, -Methinks a nobler birth Illuminates tlhe earth, And in miy heart I hear a fairy singing; Yet well I kno-w tis but mly soul renewed, Rel)orn and bright, From grief and grief's malignant soli tude! Yet well I know.- Joy is the Ganymiede, lhlo in ii-iy -yearning need, Turns to a cordial ichli the balmy air; And'tis but Hope's, diviinest Ilope's return, WhVlich makes niy inmost spirit throb and burn, -and I Hope's t wiumpl hant song, So sweet ancld strolg, That all creation seems with that wveird music ringing! "Test thou thy servants' wisdom; long in dreams, Tnsto magi y cldaBorn ofr the waters of thy Stream of Trance, Hav e we, thy fond handmaidens wai der-ed fr-ee~ And lapped in airiests wreaths of fantasy; Now would we. viewless, bearing each some gift Illumintes theearth, o eachine tdreams, dinodew Fr om thiee, our father, seek the world of Tran, The w orl d of man and' pain, whichan wAho so leaves Better or brighter, for thy gift bestowed nlost orthily, shall claim thy jus t re - wNNardl, The Crow n of W visdloml!" Krishna heard, and gave To each one tiny drop of diaIfond dew, Drawn from the fouints that feed tile S~tr-eamii of Trantice, Wh~erewithi, on waftage of miraculous Blnreatlhng full south, they sought the world of maa, The world of man and pain, that shrank in dro ught, Palsied and withered, like an old mae's face Deathi-silnitten. And the first handmaiden saw oA monarchl's fountain, sparkling ini the waste, Glowing and fresh, though all the land was siclik, Gasping foi- rain, and famishled thlou sands (lied: " O brave," she said, " 0O beautiful briglit wvaves! Like calls to like;" and so her dewdrop glanc ed, And glittered downward as a fairy star L,oose(d from a tress of Cassiopeia's lhair, IDown to the glorious fountain of the king. E'LS'H-VA 4-XD HIIS THR EE T4AND 311-4I-DE.NS. A,-\-) wNihere he sat beneath the mnystic stars, .Nigh the twin founts of Immortality, That feed fair channels of the Stream of Trance, 102 UNDER TIIE PILVE. Over the passionless bosom of the Of happy ether, echoing fair and far, eRang the charied music of the nightin gale. And so, where crowned beneath the mystic stars, Nigh the twin founits of immortality, Krishna, the fathler, saw what ruthl was her-s, And, smiling, to his wise handmaiden's rule Gave the great storm-clouds and the miiists of heaven, Till at her voice the mighty vapors rolled Up from the mountain-gorges, and the seas, And cloudland darkened, and the grate fll rain, Burdened with benedictions, rushed and foamed Down the hot chainnels, and thle foliaged hlills, And the frayed lips and languid limbs of flow,ers; And all the woodland, laughed, and earth was glad! U-NIDEER THE PlVE. T0 THE IE3IORTY OF HENRY TIAIROD. TIIE same majestic pine is lifted high Against the tw iligmlt sky, Tilhe same low, ielancloly mnusic grieves Amid the topmost leaves, As when I watched, and inused. and dreamed with him, Beneath these shadows diin. 0 Tree! least thou no memory at thy core Of one who comes no more? No yearning memory of those scenes that were So richly calm and fair, When the last rays of sunset, shimmer in-g down, Flashed like a royal crown? sea, The Indlian Sea, cerulean, crystal-clear, And calm, the second handmlaid, hover ing, viewved - Far through the tangled sea-weed and cool tides Pulsing tw ixt coral branches- the wide lips Of purpling shells that yearned to clasp a pearl: So where the oyster, blindly reared, awaits Its priceless soul- she lets the dewdrop fall, Thenceforth to grow a jewel fit for courts, And shine on swanlike necks of haughty queens! But Krishna's third handmaiden scarce had felt The fumie from parched plains that made the air As one vast caldron of invisible fire, Than casting downward pitiful eyes, she saw, Crouched in the brazen cere of that red hleat, A tiny bird -a poor, weak, suffering thing (Its bright eyes glazed, its limbs con v-ulsed and prone),Dying of thirst in torture: "Ah, kind Lord Krishna," his handmaid murmured, 'speed thy gift, Best yielded here, to soothe, perchance to save The lowliest mortal creature cursed with pain! " Gently she shook the dewdrop from her palm Into the silent throat that thirst had sealed, Soon silent, sealed no more, -for, lo! the bird Fluttered, arose, was strengthened, and thllroughl calms 103 LL(EGELVNDS AND Ll'I,l'CS. And lie, w-itli hand ouLtstretchled and eyes abllaze, Looked forth w-itlh hurning gaze, And seemed to drink the sunset like strong wine.iis Or, hushled in tiraice divinie, Hailed the first slhy and timorous glance froiom far Of evening's -virgili star? But speaks of hiiim, and seems to bring ollce ollOre The joy, tlhe love of yore; But most whlen breathed from out the shyauset-lan d The sunset airs are bland, That b)lowv between the twilight and the Esight;t, Ere yet thle stars are brighlt; O Tree! against tl\-hy miglhty- ttrunk liehe lai(ld His w-eary hlea,:l tly shade Stole o'er himi like the first cool spell of sleep: It bi)ouglit a peace.so deep The unquiet passioll died froiii out his eyes, As liglhtniini-g fromii stilled skies. For thle tat qid iet eve cou es ba ck to iiie, AlVhen, (leeply, tlhrilling'ly, Ile si)ake of lofty hopes wN-hiiclh vanquish Death; And( on ihis mitortal br-eatl A lagtua,e of immiiiiortal miieaniings hung, That fire(,d his heart and toniguie. For telei iuneaitlily breezes stir anl( Mh'rIIluii ingi, "Look up!'tis I: TlWy frieiid is ni(tr thliee! Ali, tlhou ca lis]lt 1s1t s(a(!? s AIn(i tlhrouighl tlle satcr-ed tree Passes wh-liat seeims a w-ild anid senitient tlhrill - Passes, anid all is still! And in that calin lI, lov-ed to rcst, and hiear The soft cind-angels, clear And sw-eet, anloig tlhe uppermost b)rauch es siglilu,*g: Voices lie lhear(d replving (Or so lie dreanied) far uLp the mystic hleighlt, And pin ions rustling lighlt. Still as the grave whichl holds his trall quil fornm, lluslhed after myiany a stor'm,Still as the caliii that (rowns his iimarble brow, -No paini can wN-riiikle noNw - Still as the peace —pathetic peace of God That wraps the holy sod, 0 Tree! lhave not his poet-touch, his dreaisns So full of heavenilv gleams, WAroughlt throulgh the folded dullness of thyllv bark, And all tlhy nature dark Stirred to slow- throbbings, and the flut tering fire Of faint, unknown desire? Where every flower from our dead nin strel's dust Shlould l)looni, a type of trust,That faithl whichl waxed to wing,s of hebave nwar(li might To bear his soiil fromy night,That faitlh, (dea,r Chlrist! whereby we pi-,,)y to meet Itis spirit at God's feet! At least to me there sweeps no rugged ring That girds the forest-king No immiemorial stain, or aw-ful rent (The mnark of tempest spent), No delicate leaf, no litlie bou1gh, vine o'ergrowvn, No distant. flickering cone, 104 17I TR]' JIS T. A DI'E 41r OF TIlE SOU'H IfI3,DS. For behold! its spirit flieth, And its fairy murmiur dietl, And the silence closing round mie is a dull and soulless calm! O FRESII, how fresh and fair Throughl the crystal gulfs of air, The fairy South Wind floateth on her subtle w-ings of balm i! n(d the green earth lapped in bliss, To the iiaagic of her kiss ceeills yearning upward fondly throuhli tlle goldeni-crested calmii! gIORE fearful grow-s the hillside way, T'he gloomy no softening breeze lihtl kissed! I glance far upward to the day, tit scarce can catch one faltering, ray FIo111 out the miiist! Fi-roui tlhe distant Tropic strand, WAhere the billows, brighlt and blanid, (o creep ing, curling round the palhIs w-ith sweet, faint undertul e Fromi its fields of purpling flowNers Still a-et A-ith i fra grant sh swes-ers, The happy Soutlh AWiind lingering sweeps the royal blooms of June. Alih, heaveii! to thlink youth's morning primiie, All flushled w-ith rose and amethyst, Its tender lov-es, its hol)es sublime, Srhould sliilk to this (dull twilight-tinme Of cold anid iiiist' A11 heavenly fancies rise ()ii the perfumne of her sighs, \Wh-ichl steep the iinmost spirit in a ian gtuor rare and fine, Andl a peace imiore pure than sleep's Uiito dimi, half-conscious deeps, T'ransiports me, lulled and dreaming, on its tw-iliglht tides divine. -No tranqutil evenng lioiiiu descends, Wlheln p)eace with memiory holdcs her tryst, Bl'ut douibt w,vith prescient terror blends, And grief hler mournful curfew sends Along the mist! Thlose direanims! ah me! the splendor, Sio myiistical and tender, WAlrewle-ith like soft hleat-lightnings they gird their meaning round, Anld those waters, calling, calling, WAithl a namieless charm enthralling, Like the ghlost of music mnielting on a rIailnbow spray of sound! WVeird shapes arnd wild, stalk strangely And say, what bodeful voices hissed Whlere yonder blasted pine-trunks lie? Whlat mystic plhantoms shuddering fly Far down tlle miist? Dark omens all! they bid ine stay, Unsheathe resolve, pause, strive, re sist Theat poisonous charnm which haunts my way; Alas! the fiend, more bold than they, Still rules the nmist! Touch. touch me not, nor wake iie, Lest grosser thoughts o'ertake mie, Fromi earth receding faintly with her dreary din and jars, Whlat viewless armins caress me? AWhat whispered voices bless me, With welcomies dropping dewlike from the weird and wondrous stars? And now from gulfs of turbulent gloom A torrent's threatening tlhuiider; list! That ravening roar! that hungry boomi! Down, down I pass to meet my (loom Within the mist! Alas! dimi, dimn, and dimnier (Grows the preternatural glimmer Of that trance the South Wind brouglht me on her subtle wings of balm, 105 ly, TIIEI 31]Sll. by, 106 LEGENDS AND LJIC. To edge our cares, whNilst we, the proud "Now, by my faith a gruesome mood, for sunmmer! "- THOMIAs HEYWARD (1597). AH, me! for evermore, for evermore These human hearts of ours must yearn and sigh, While down the dells and up the mur miurous shore Nature renews her immortality. The heavens of June stretch calm and blanid above, June roses blush with tints of Orient skies, But we, by graves of joy, desire, and love, Mourn in a world which breathes of Paradise! The sunshine mocks the tears it may not dry, The breezes -tricksy couriers of the air - Child-roisterers winiged, and lightly flut tering by Blow their gay trumpets in the face of care; And bolder winds, the deep sky's pas sionate speech, AXoven into rhythmic raptures of de sir e, Or fugues of mystic victory, sadly reach Our humbled souls, to rack, not raise them higher! The field-birds seem to twit us as they pass WAVith their small blisses, piped so clear and loud; The cricket triumphs o'er us in the grass, And the lark, glancing beamnlike up the cloud, Sings us to scorn with his keen rhapso dies; Small things and great unconscious tauntings bring and wise, Envy the inseet's joy, the birdling's wing! And thus for evermore, till time shall cease, Man's soul and Nature's- each a sep arate sphereRevolve. the one in discord, one in peace, And who shall make the solemn mys tery clear? MIDNIGHHT. The Moon, a ghost of her sweet self, And wading through a watery cloud, Which wraps her lustre like a shroud, Creeps up the gray, flunereal sky, Wearily! how wearily' The Wind, with low, bewildered wail A homeless spirit, sadly lost, Sweeps shuddering o'er the pallid frost, And faints afar, with hleart-sick sigh, Drearily! how drearily! And now a deathly stillness falls On earth and heaven, save when the shrl ill, Malignant owl o'er heath and hill Smites the wtan silence with a cry, Eerily! hlowv eerily! THE BO.NNY B0O!f T'N ItAND. OiI, drearily, how drearily, the somnbre eve comes down! And wearily, how wearily, the seaward breezes blow! But place your little hand in mine - so dainty, yet so brown! For household toil hath worn away its rosy-tinted snow; I 106 LEGEY-DS -4ND LYRICS. ,I SU-JI-IJEJ? MOOD. i i i i i "The Moon, a ghost of her sweet self,.. Creeps uLLp the gray, funereal sky, Wearily! how wearily." SONYI;fS. 17 Till the joy of love's coinl)leteness In this fltushl of fireside sweetness, Shall brimi otur lhearts witlI spirit-wilie, outpotured beside the hlearth. So steal youri little lhaiid in miile, while( tw-ilight falters donvi,That little hland(l, that fervent lha(l, that ihand of bolniy brown,The hand which poilits the path to heaven, yet miakes a lieavenii of earth. BT tt I fold it, vife, the nearer, An d I feelho, ny loe,'tis dea-er Tllan all deal' thingi-s of earth, As I wn-atchl the pensive gloaming, e and ty -tw-ild tiholuhonts cease from and Olllilleli Aind birdlike ftliI their pinions close be side otir peaceful hearth: Then rest youir little handi( in imiine, while tw'ilighlt shlimim,iiier-s dow nThat little hanld. that fervent hand, that hand of boliiv br-own,The hand that hohls an honest heart, and rules a happy hearth. S O NN-E T,S. Ohl, merrily. hoiw merrIily, our children's v-oices rise! And clheer-ily, how cheerily, their tiny footsteps fall! But, hand, youL must not stir awhlile, for there our nestling, lies, S81111 in the cradle at your side, the loveliest far of all; And she looks so arch and airy, So softly pure a fairy, She scarce seems bound to earth; And her dimpled mouth keeps smliling,, As at somie child fay's beuuilinng, lWho flies fromi Ariel realms to light her sliuiibers onI the hearth. Ha, little hand, you yearn to miove, and smooth the bright locks down! But, little hand, -but, treimbling hand, -but, lhand of bonny bhrown, t, Stay, stay w-ith me! - she will not flee, our birdling on the hearth. ON a steep hillside, to all airs that blow, Open, and open to the varying sky, Ou1' cottage homestead, similing tran quilly, Catches miorn's earliest and eve's latest glowv; Heere, far froni worldly strife, and pompous show, The peaceful seasons glide sereniely by, Fulfil thleir missions, and as calmly die, As waves on quiet sliores when winds are low. Fields, lonely patls, th e one s mall glim ieringy w, rill That twinkles like a wood-fay's mirth, ful eye, Under moist bay-leaves, clouds fantas tical That float and change at the light breeze's wn-ill,To me, thus lapped in sylvan luxuiry, Are more than death of kin,s, or empires' fall. Oh, flittingly, how flittiingly, the parlor shadows thirill, As wittingly, half w-ittingly, they seem to pulse and pass! And solemn sounds are on the wind that swi-eeps the haunted hiill, And Ilmurmurs of a ghostly breath from out the grav-eyard gr-ass. Let me feel your glowing fingers In a clasp th at te arfl s and l ingers WitlI the full, fond lov-e of earth, WITHIN the deepblue eyes of Heaven a haze Of saddened passion dims their tender lig htlit, For that her fail queen-child, the Sum inet bright, I i SOAT-'V,El'S. 107 — 4 TIIE COTT-X(',E O —Nr TIIE iiii,r,. 1\'O V E -N I P, E P,,. LEGENDS AND LYRICS. And near ine, where thle wild "queen fai ie s " * buil' in, The tlhrush's bridal passion, warmn and I soft! bays: The sullen Autumn lifts no voice of praise To herald AVinter's cold and cruel Ilight, But winds foreboding fill the desolate night, And die at dawning down wild wood land ways: Thle sovereign sun at noonday smilethli cold, As through a shroud lie lath no power to part, AWhile huddled flocks crouch listless round their fold; The miock-bird's dulllb, no iniore with cheerful dart Upsoars the laik through morning'sr qui ver lin g-old, Alnd dumrb or dcead, roethinks, great -Nature's heart! POETS. So.iE thunder on the heights of song, their race Godlike in power, while others at their feet Are breathing measures scarce less strong and sw eet Than those whichl peal from out that loftiest place; Mieantimne, just midway on the mount, his face Fairer than April heavens, when storms retreat, And on their edges rain and sunshine lneet, Pipes the soft lyrist lays cf tender grace; But where the slopes of bright P'ainassus sw-eep iNear to the comlnion ground, a various tllroing Chant lowlier measures, - yet each tlune ful strain (The silvery minor of ear-th's perfect son-ig) Blends with that music of the topmost steep, O'er whose vast realhn the master miiin strels reign! SYLVA-.-N- 3IUSINGS.-IN M1AY. COUCCHED in cool shadow, girt by billowy swells Of foliage, rippling into buds and flowers, Here I repose o'erfaiined by breezy bowNers, - Lulled by a delicate stream wvhose music wells Tender and low thlrough those luxuriant dells, WAherefrom a single broad-leaved chest nut towers;Still imusing in the long, lush, languid hllors,As in a dream I heard the tinkling b)ells Of far-off kine, glimpsed through the verdurous sheen, Blent with faint bleatirigs from the dis tant croft,The bee-throngs murmurous in the golden fern, The wood-doves veiled by depths of flickering green, SONNET. BEIIOLD! lhow weirdly, wonderfuilly gran(d The shades and colors of yon sunset sky! R,are isles of light in crimson oceans lie, vWhose airy waves seem rippling, bright and b)land(l, Up the soft slopes of mnany a mystic strantld, - * "Queen fairy," the name given popularly to an exquisite Soutlherni w il(d flower. 108 Lies a waii corse aiiii(Ist her iilouldei-ii-i i i I I i i i I i I I I i i i i i i 1 1 i i i I i I SONNETS. 109 While luminous capes, and mountains towering highan In golden pomip and proud regality, O'erlook the frontier of that fairy land, But inow, in transformations swift and strange The vision changes! Castles glittering fair, An _( sapplire battleiienits of loftiest range Comiimingle with vast spire and gorgeous (dom1e, Round whiclh the sunset rolls its puriplinig foamii, Girding this transient Venice of the air. "Upveiled( in yionder dim ethereal sea, Its airy towers the work of plhantom spells, A viewless belfry tolls its wizard bells." Laden with one strange note that sinks or swells, Now dread as doom, now gentle as fare wells, Time's dirge borne ever toward eternity. Each hour its measured breath sobs out and dies, AVWhile the bell tolls its requiem, aThe sole sad burden of their long refrain," Thle sole sad burden of their long refrain UPVEILED in yonder dim ethereal sea, Its airy towers the work of phantoml spells, A viewless belfry tolls its wvizar(l bells, Pealed o'er this populous earth perpet ually. Some hear, some hear them not; but aye they be 109 S 0 N-NE TS. TIHE PHA-NTOMN BELLS. LE1(E,.L,kA51 AN,D L}IlU,~C. still. w-ithl those ihours each palg, eacIh Hollow, yet sweet as if a ritan piied(l O'er deathless wvoes, yon mniglhty w-oo(l, conisigned To autuin'iis blighlt, benioans its perished bloomii; Thle dim air creeps withli a vague sl(ud deIrlug thrill Down frolm those monstrous mllists tlhe sea-gale brinlgs, Ipalf forII(l(,ss, iilai(l, poisoinIg eariti ai(l sky; rlost fromi i yoi black (lo(l, shlal)e(l lilke vamir ae, d l illgs O'er a lost anigel's visage, deathlly-still, Uplifted toward some dread eternity. pleasure flies, Ilrief sw-eet, hrief hitter, -all our (lays are i vaits, Kniolled illto drear forgetfullness at last. TIlE LIFE-FOIIJEST. iN spriigtilie of our -youth, life's pur pling shade, Foliage and fruit, (lo hlang so thickly rotuld, \Ve seem glad tenants of enchanted ground, ()'er w-lich for aye dreaim-v-lhispering winds have played. Then suumher comes, her full-blown chlarm is laid On all the forest aisles from bound to Floats woodland music, and the silvery sound Of fountains babbling to the goldeen glade. Next. a chill breath, thle breath of Au-i tilIliln s doom ,trips the fair sylvan branches, one by one, Till the bl)are landscape broadens to our v\iewN; P,elind(l. black tree boles blot the twiliglht bhtle. B,efore. iiufoliaged, bald of light and Our patlhw-av darkens towards the dark eiingl sun! SN()NE T. I FE-,AI' thee n-ot, 0 Death! nay, oft I pinei To clasp thy passionless bosom to mine sond on tlvy heart sob out Imy latest 111Oa112 Ere lapped and lost in thy strange sleep (di'11vine; But much I fear lest that clill breatlh of tliiie Should freeze all tender ineiiories into stone,Lest rutlhless and mialign Oblivion Quencl the last s pa rk that linger s o n love's sllline: O God! to miiouldler tlhrough dark, date less years, The while all loving ministries slh~all cease, And tinme assuage the fondest mo urner's tears! Here lies the stingi! - this, tl7 is it is to (lie And yet great nature rounids all strife w i th peace, And life or death, each rests in myiystery! CLOUDD FAN'TASIES. AWTI,D. rapid, dark, like dreams of threat ening doom, L,owN- c louLd-racks sced before the level wind; Bleneath them. the bare moorlands, bIlank andl l)lind, $~t r ehll. mioiinfful, through pale lengitlhs of glimimering gloom; Afar. giranid miiiiC of the sea waves' })ool001, SONNET. OF all the woodland( flowers of earlier s prinag, These golden jasmiinies, eaclh an air-lhung boN-er. tio I FIRE-PICTURES. Mleet for the Queen of Fairies' tiring hlour, eein loveliest and most fair in blossom inig; How yonder mnock-bird thrills his fer vid wing And long, lithe throat, -where twinkling flower on flower Rains the globed dewdrops down, a dia mond shower, O'er his brown head poised as in act to sillng; Lo! the swift sunshine floods the flowery urns, Girding their delicate gold with match less light, trill the blent life of bough, leaf, blossom, bun'ns; Then, then outbursts the mlock-bird clear andl loud, Ialf-druniik with perfume, veiled by ra diance blight, -A star of music in a fiery cloud! Sicken at the blight! Pales the flame, and spreads the vapor, Till scarce la rger than a taper, Flares the waning, struggling light: O! thou wan,, faint-hearted fire, Sadly darkling, Weakly sparkling, Rise! assert thy might! Aspire! aspire! At the word, a vivid lightning, Threatening, swaying, darting, bright ening, Where the loftiest yule-log towers, - Bursts once nlloire, Sudden bursts the awakened fire; Hear it roaig! Roar, and mount high, high, and higher, Till beneath, Only here and there a wreath Of the passing sinoke-cloud lowers, Ha! the glad, victorious fire! O! the fire! How it changes, Changes, ranges Through all phases fancy-wrought, Changes like a wizard thoug-lt; See Vesuvian lavas rushing 'Twixt the rocks! the ground asunder Shivers at the earthquake's thunder; And the glare of Hell is flushing Startled hill-top, quaking town; Temnples, statues, towers go down, While beyond that lava flood, t)ark-red l ik e blood, I behold the children fleeting Clasped by inany a frenzied hand; What a flight, and what a meeting, On the rulined strand! 0! THiE rolling, rushing fire! 0! the fire! How it rages, wilder, higher, Like a hot heart's fierce desire, Thrilled with passion that appalls us, HIalf appalls, and yet enthralls us, 0O the madly mounting fire! Up it sweepeth,- wave and quiver,Roaring like an angry river, - 0! the fire! AWhichl an earthquake backward turneth, Backward o'er its riven courses, Backwvard to its mountain sources, While the blood-red sunset burneth, Like a God's face grand with ire, O! the bursting, billowy fire! O! the fire! Eddying higher, higher, higher From the vast volcanic cones; O! the agony, the groans Of those thousands stifling there! "Fancy," say you? but how near Seenm the anguish and the fear! Swelling, turbulent, pitiless fire: Now the sombre smoke-clouds thicken To a dim Plutonian night; - O! the fire! How its flickering glories sicken, I ill 6 FIRE-PICI'URES. 112 LEGENDS AND LJV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ICS.~~~~~~~~~~~ 'Tis a mad northeastern breeze Raving o'er the prairie seas; How, like living things, the grasses Tremble as the stormi-breathl passes,. Ere the flames' devouring magic Coils about their golden splendor, And the tender Glory of thie miellowving fields To the wild destroyer yields; Dreadful waste for flowerilng blooms, Desolate darkness, like the tomb's, Over which there broods the while, Instead of daylighlt's happy smile, A pall malign and tragic! Sits a top er, stout and y ellow, Blinking o'er his steamy bow,el; Hugely diri nking, Slyly Mwinking, As the pot-louse Hebe passes, AVitlh a clink and clan,g of glasses; Ha!'tis plain, the stout old fellowAs his wont is- -axes mellow, Nodding'twixt each (dreamiiy leer, Swaying in his elbow clhair, Next to one,- a portly peasant,Pipe in hand, whose swelling clheek, Jolly, rubicund, and sleek, Puffs above the blazing coal; While his heavy, lhalf-shut, eyes AVatchl the simoke-w-reatlhs evanescent, Eddying lightly as they rise, Eddying lightly and aloof Toward the great, black, oaken roof! Marvellouis fire! Changing, ranging Through all phases fancy-wrought, Chlanging like a charmied thought; A stir, a mnurnmur deep, Like airs that rustle over jiungle-reeds, Where the gaunt tiger breathes but half asleep; A bodeful stir,And then the victim of his own pure deeds, I mark the mighty fire Clasps in its cruel palns a miartyr-saint, Christ's faithful worshipper; One mortal cry affronts the pitying day, One ghastly arm uplifts itself to hleav en - When the swart smoke is riven,Ere the last sob of anguishl dies away, The worn limbs droop and faint, And o'er those reverend hairs, silvery and hoary, Settles the semblance of a crown of glory. Dreaming still, from out the fire Faces grinning and grotesque, Flash an eery glance uponi me; Or, once more, mletliinks 1 sun me On the breadths of happy plain Sloping towards the southern main, IWhere the inmost soul of shadow Wins a golden heat, And the hill-side and the meadow (Where the vines and clover meet, Twining round the virgins' feet, While the natural arabesque Of the foliage grouped above them Droops, as if the leaves did love them, Over brow, and lips, and eyes) Gleam with hints of Paradise! Ah! the fire! Gently glowing, Fairly flowing, Like a rivulet rippling deep Through the meadow-lands of sleep, Bordered where its music swells, By the languid lotos-bells, And the twilight asphodels; Mingled with a richer boon Of queen-lilies, each a moon, Orbed into white completeness; O! the perfume! the rare sweetness Tireless fire! Changing, ranging Through all phases fancy-wrought, Changing like a Pr6tean thought; Here's a glowing, warm interior, A Dutch tavern, rich and rosy With deep color,- sill and floor Dazzling as the white seashore, Where within his armchair cozy I I I i I i 112 LEGENDS AND LIllICS. ____ A —A~'- I ___ -- ___ I ~>ffiffifflffiffi ifimififfiffiffi ~mA —A>ffi ~-" — ffi- ji -I<~~ffi~ffiffiffiMffi~ffi~~IQ 0;~)~Y ~ ~ I t2 \ ~3 CD~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I T'HE WIIFE OF BRITY'AN\Y. O brav-e oldl poet! genius frank and u bol(l Sustaii mie, cherish and arouncd ime fold Tliiiie on-ii hale, sun-warm atmosphere of soIng, I,est T, wA-ho touch thy nmiLibers, do thee wron'g' Speed the deep mieasure, mnake the mlean-i ilg slhine Ruddy an-id high wvith healthful spilit winee, Till to attemipered senise and quickening T ears Myv strain some faint harmnonious echo bears Fromi that rich realm w-herein thy cor dial art T hrobbed w,N-itlh its pulse of fire'gainst youthful England's heart. wron4: ~~~~~And iiild obe~isailce, his observance eignhy He hardly fai rst before will,er bend ( thaicy knlee In passion'sed an or an kesw e ring pity to dis Still, at the madelast, this gentle suitorthinessoul's And ile, thaobt thenisace thei r happy fates hlighl Of shouan ly fait, fim will, ad constracy AThrou pastures beauteous aspity the fieds of Mlay, sighs, Tillr- epity, e rore n to loeveess, or sharp jeal-t from genlial eyeos. Thus wity pm'e trust, and cheerful calm accordl, SVex the tclear-flowig currentl ofi her sos lorcl; sdold stray hood, he ~~~~~She thanlked himi- in- a hundredT winning AThrough I," she said, " wll beateous as the fieldsloyal of May, TSworake of his my vows,n free miny solen trothe right HO ercy gave hnorn inm, w hen the verduroulish might, sN or e'er in wanton fcoreaks of dew-lit masolitudes, l ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~iiie ruhiretaiwetldtoldbiumred almost as with a humian Ire-bred perversene ssly, low, to frolic breezes stealing ousy, Vex the clear-flowing current of her days. Sherthanked hi sl in a hundrept oinnig ways: " And I," she said, "will be thy loyal wife; Take here my vows, my solemn trotw for life. " On a June morning, when the verdurous woods Flushedl to the core of dew-lit solitudles, M~urmluredl ahlnost as wvith a hulman feeling, Tenclerly, low, to frolic breezes stealing Thlrough dlappledl shades and dlepths of dlainlty fern, Crushed here andl there l~y somle low wlfimper in, )111'1, THE STORY. WHEERE the hoarse billow-s of the north land Sea Sweep the rude coast of rockbound Brit tanym, Dwelt, ages since, a knilght whose wvar riot-famie Mighlt w-ell have struck all carpet-knights w-ith shamiie; Vowed to great deeds and princely man hloocl, he Burgeonedl the topmiost-flowver of chiv alry: Yet gentle-hearted, nursed one delicate thought Fixed firm in love: with anxious pain he sought To serve his lady in the noblest wise, And mnanyi a labor, miany a grand em prise He wvroulght ere that swveet lady could be won. feig She was a maiden bright-aired as the And graceful as the tall lake-lilies are Flushed'twixt the twilight and the ves per-star; I I!) but bori-i to sucli i,are state aiid sover I LEGEINDS AATJD L1,il'IUS. Tlh y reason! nay thly very ]life's at stake! ]By love, and love's (lear pleadings, for his sake Who yearns to clasp thee scathless to his breast, WVe pray thee, sootlie these maddening cares to rest " Ev en as the patient graver on a stone, Laboring witlh tireless fi-igers, sees anon The shape embodying his rare fancies grow 91'OIV' Ai-id lighten, thus upon her stubborn woe Their tireless comforts wrought, until a trust, Clear-eyed( and constant, raised hier from the dust And ashly slii-od(I of sorrow; her despair Gave place to twi-iliglht gladness and soft clheer Confirmed ere long by letters from her love: " I)ear Ioleine! " le wrote, "thlou tender dove That treimblest in thy chlilly nest at hlome, Pritlihee embrace meek patience till I come. Lo, the swift winds blow fresheiing o'er the sea, From out the sunset isles I speed to rest with thee! " The knight's ancestral home stood grimi and tall Beyond its shladow-y nioat anid frowning wNiall; It topped a gradual summit crowned wvitlh fil, Green murmurous miyrtle, and wild jun i, ipe r, Fronting a long, rude, solitary strand, Whereon the earliest sunbeam, like a hlandl Of tremulous benediction, rested blanid, And warmly quiiverinig; o'er the wave worn lea Gleamed the broad spaces of the open sea. shlrinie. O saffron-vested IIymen the divine! Did aughlt of gloom or boding shadow weiglh Upon thy blushing consciousness that dav? No! thv frank face breathed only hope and love^; Earth lauglhed ill wave andl leaf, all lheaven wi as fair above. Homie to the land wherein the knight was bsorn Blithlely they rode upon the morrow nlorni, Not far from Penmnark; there they lived in ease And solace of matured felicities, Until Arv-iragus wvhose soul of fire Not ev-en fruition of his love's desire Could fill w-ithl languorous idlesse, cut the tie, Which bound to silken dalliance sud (lenly, Sailing the straits for England's war torn strand, There amipler bays to pluck from vie-c tory's " red right hand. " Bit Iolene, fond Iolene, whose heart Can beat no longer, lonely and apart From him she loves, save wvith a sicken ing stress Of fear o'erwrought and brooding ten derness, 3Iourns for his absence with soul-weary in- plaint, Slow, pitiful tears and midnight mur imurings faint, And thus the whole world sadly sets at naught. 3leanrwhile her friends, who guess what canker-thought Preys on her quiet, with a mnild essay Strive to subdue her passion's torturing sway: "Beware! beware, sweet lady, thou wilt slay I i 120 These tavaiii AN-ere -Ni-edded at a forest HIL'E lVfiF' OF BRII'TANI_f. Now- often, with her pitying friends beside, She walked the desolate beach and watched the tide, Forth looking through unconscious tears to view Sail after sail pass shimmering o'er the blue: And to herself, ofttimies, "Alas!" said she, 'Is there no ship, of all these ships I see, Will bring m e home my lord? Woe, woe is me! Though w-inds blow frIeshl, and sea-birds skimn the main, Thou still delav'st, mily liege! Ah, t!iltl tlhoui come again?" Sometimes would she, half-dreamfing, sit and think, Casting her dark eyes downward from the brink; And when she saw those grisly rocks beneath, Pound which the pallid foam, in many a wreath White as the lips of passion, faintly curled, Her thoughts would pierce to the drear undiler-wiorld, ' Mid shipw-recks wandering, and bleached bones of those O'er whom the unresting ocean ebbs and flows; And though the shining waters'lushed and deep, Mlight slumber like an innocent child asleep, From out the North her prescient fancy raised Huge ghostlike clouds, and spectral lightniings blazed I' th' van of phantom thunder, and the roar Of multitudinous waters on the shore, heard as in dreadful trance its billowy swells Blent with the mournful tone of far funereal bells! Her fr iends perceiving that this seaside walk, Though gay and jovial their wunstudied talk, But dashed her dubiou s spirits, kindly took And led her -hwhere the blossom-bordere( brook Babbled through woodlan ds, a nd the limiipid pool Lay crouched like some shy Naiad in the cool Of mossy gladces; or when a tedious hour Pressed on her with its dim, lethargic powver, They wooed her wr i th gla d games or jocund song, Till the dull deholn ceased to do her wrong. So, on a pleasant Mlay morn, while the dew Sparkled on tiny hedgerow-flowers of blue, Passing through many a sun-brown orchl ard-field, They reach a fairy pleasaunce, which revealed Such prospects into' breezy inland vales, The natural haunt of plaining nightin gales, Such verdant, grassy plots, through which there rolled A gleeful rivulet glimpsing sands of gold, And winding slow by clumps of plumed pines, Rich realns of bay, and gorgeous jas mine-vines, That none who strayed to that fair flowery place Had paused in wonder if its sylvan grace, Embodied, beauteous, with an areI em brace Had stopped, and smiling, kissed them face to face. 121 LEGNENDS AND LYRfICS. A buoyant, blithesomie company were they, Gwrouped round the pleasaunce on that morn of May; \-it. solg, and rippling laughter, and archl looks Thalit might have lured the wood-gods froini their nooks, Echoed and flashed like dazzling arrowsi tipped Witlh amorous heat; and now and then there slipped Fioin outt the whirling ring of jocund girls, AWreatlhing white arns and tossing wan-t ton curls, Somie mnaiden -ho w-itlh mionentary Inien Of coy dem ureness bent oer Iolene, And whliispered sunniest nothings in her ear. And all -unkniowni to her, his hear-t's desire, This youth lhad loved with wild, delii ous fite, The lonely, sa(l, unconscious Iolene. Hle durst not show how love llad brought hiiim teen, fNor prove how deep his passion's inw-ard(l mnight; Thiniking, half mnaddened, on her absent knight; Save that the burden of a love-lorn lay AVWould somewhat of his stifled flame betray, But in those vague complainings poets use, Wlhen charging Love with otitrage and abuse Of his all-potent witchery. " Alh," said lhe, "I love, but ever love despondently; For though one vision haunts le, and I boI i rn To hold that (dreamn incarnated, I yearn In vain, in vain; love breathes no bland retur n! " First'mlid the brave gallants assembling there Aurelian camie, a squire of fair degree, Tail, vigorous, handsome, his whole air so free, Yet courteous, and suchl princely sweet ness blent With every well-timed, graceful eompli nllent, That sooth to speak, where'er Aurelian went, To turbulent tilt-yard and baronial hall, Sporting afield or at hiigh festival, Favor, like sunshine, filled his heart and eyes. Thnus only did Aurelian strive to show Whlat pangs of hidden passion worked below The surface calhnness of his front seirene; Unless perhaps he met his beauteous Queell, Scarce brightening at the banqu-et or the (lan-ce; When, with a piercing yet half-piteous glance, His eyes would search, then strangely slhuAs i her face, As one condemned, who fears to siie for grace. Thuls nobly gifted, high-born, opulent, w-ise, One hidd(len curse was hils: for troiiblous years, Seceretly, s-wayedl in turn by hopes and fears, But on this self-same day, when hoinme ward bound, leer footsteps sought the loneliest path tha t h oun(l Trhirouigh tangled copses to the upland ground -* We rre to suppose that Aurelian had seen loleiie p.revious to her marriage, and that circumestances had prevented his becoming intisate it l her, or i n any wtay prosecuting his suit lholnestly and frankly. I 122 TIIE WIFE OF BRITTANY. Andl orchard close, - her fair compan One sees perchance the spectral slhadows ineet, Cast by a darkened heaven whose lower ing hush Broods, tlhundeer-clhargeed, above its gold en flush,So, a dark wonder, a subliime suspense, Of gathering wrath at this wild inso lence, Dimimed the miild glory of her brow and lips; iHer beauty, more majestic in eclipse, Shlone withl that awful lustre which of old, In the god(s' teniples and the fanes of gold, Blazed in the Plythia's face, and shlook lher formiii With throes of baleful prophecy; a stol'll She stood inrnate, il whose omninous gloont Throbbed thle red lighltniing onl the verge of doom. But as a current of soft air, Iunfelt On the lower eartlh, is seeli ere long to melt The up-piled surge of teilpes' s slowly driven In scattered vapors through the deeps of heaven, Thulis a serener thought tenderly played Across her spirit; its portentous shad(le, Big witlh umittered wrathl and mneanlilngs dire, 13egan with slow, wan pulsings to expire; A far ethlereal voice she seemed to lhear luiiting its mercifuil accents in her ear, Subtly liariioniiious: "Ye,'," shle thought, "in truth, e lag,e,:t i madness holds hilni, thle poor youth Is drunk w-ithl passionI! Shlall I, deeply l)lessed By all love.'s swN(ee(ts. its balmii and trustful Ire'st. ions kissed AWithli tearful thanks, and all kind friends dismissed, - Vurelian, whlo the secret pathw-ay knew, Thlrough the dense growth and shrouded foliage drew Near the pale Queen, the lady of lhis dreams: 'rThe evening's soft, pathetic splen(ldor str ealllS O'er her clear forehead and her clhestnut h1air, .All glorified a, in celestial air; iBut the dark eyes a wistful light con fessed, And some soft inlurmuring fancies heaved her breast Beiig,iily., like enamored tides that rise And sink mielodiouts to the west wind's sighls. lie gazed. and the long passion hlie lhad nursed, hInpetuous, sudden, unrestrained, o'er burst All bo(nds of custom and enforced re straint: 0 lady, hear ine: I aiii deadly faint, Yet wild with love! such love as forces ii-an To beard conventions, trample on the ban ()f partial lawvs, spiiin with contemptuous lhate Wlhate'er would bar or bliglht his bliss ful fate. -And( in the feverous frenizv of his zeal, Even fromi tlhe slhriinkin,g floAwer he dotes on,. steal Blush, fragrance. andT lieart-(iew! For giv-e! forgive! hAVlat! have I dared to tell thee this, to live For ave hereafter in thy cold regard? Yet veil tlhy scorn; nor inake more cold and hard The anguished life now cowering at thy feet. " 123 As o'er a billonvy field of ripened wheat LL,'(;,i V)S AN 1, — (,VS. Crtishl the less fortunate spirit! utterly Blight and destroy him, (ll ori 1O)r c ot' His hopes, if hopes hlie hath, must surely die; Still w-ould I nip their blossoms tenderly, With a slight, airy frost-bite of con tempt. God's miercy, good Sir Squire, art thlouL exempt Of courtesy as of reason? What weird spell l)oth work this madness in thee and compel Thy nobler nature to sulch base de spites? Forsooth, thou'lt blush some day the flon-er of knights, Should this thy l)budding virtue w-ax and growTo natural consummation! Coime! thy flowv Of w-eak self-ruthl might slhamie the vel est clhlil, A six years' peev-ish urchliiii; wiimpeiii tr n w-ild. And scattering his tornl locks, because afartlie sees and yearns to clasp, but canniot clasp. a star i' She ceased, w-ith shaiiie and p)ity weigh ing downlol Her dovelike lids denraiirely, and a frowntt Just struggling fainitly in-itlh as fainit a smile (For the miute trembling squire still knelt the while) Round the archl dimples of her rosy mouth: AVhiereon, in fitful fashion, like the South AVhich sw-eeps with petulant wilng a field of blooms, Then dies a heedless death'linong gold en brooms And lavish slhrtubbery, briefly she re su8mes, of her speech: "Aurelian, rise! Bellold'st thlou yon der beach, And thle l)lue waves beyond? those bristliftg rocks, O er which t t e clafe( sea, itc quic(k tllhwl der-sliocks, Leaps passiongateb, pantipa g tlhrougli the slow l er y s pray, Pcoariap (letiarnca to the to h(altmu-eyed (lay? Al, woel, el fa eltastic boy! I blit hely swear oWhen yoth rms de coast beneatll us rises ('le'ar (Downe to tlle far tles t ls osmlw(t s o f wild Of tihat lwlack rafilpant o ark(ain t skv and(l iii,in, I'll pay tlhy vowN-s with anlswelring v1ow0-s A'ni b(.'-(o(l save the mIarllik!-tlhy 1)ai-aiiOliir. " IleIr words stru(k keen and (leep, even to t]lle core Of tli(, raslh listenier'is soIIl; they seemed to 1)e MIlore fatal ini tleir (ar(,less ir-on-iy Than if the levini bolt, hiuriled from above, Ila(l slaini at once his manhood and his love. AVWhat more lie felt in sooth'twe-cre vain to tell; IIe only heard her wlhispering, "Fare tllee-well, Alndi Iteavent assoil thee of all sinful sor row! " Tlhen-i witlh a grace and majesty which borrow Fresh lustrous sweetness from an inward stress Ai-id hii(ldden m-iotion of cllaste gentle ness, Slhe glidet l like some beauteous cloud ap)art; Aureliani saw ler pass with yearnin, 1,aiigs at heart. I,-14 AN'itli (Iiilck-(-IraiN-ii the courses OF BRITI'ANIr 125 Then, like a wounded bird by the rude wind Clutched and borne onward, tortured, reckless, blind, Too frail to struggle with that passion ate blast, A We take wild, wavering courses, and at l as t Are dashed, it may be, on the rocky verige, PARPT II. Soul-epochs are there, when grief"s piti less storme O'erwvlhelmiis the amazed spirit; when the wariab Exultant heart whose hopes were brave and high, Shrinks in the darkness witlering all its sky: " Thlose bristling rocks, O'er vwhicil thie eliafed sea, in quick tliundier-shiocks, Leaps passionate, panitinig through thie showery spray." Or hurled o'er the unknown and perilous All night he wandered in the forest drear. su'ge Till on the pale phantasmal front of morn Of some dark doom, when, bruised and The first thin flickering day-gleam tempest-tost, glanced forlorn, WAe sink in turbulent eddies, and are Wan as the wraithl of perished hopes, lost. the ghost Of wishes long sustained and fostered Urged bv a mood thus desperate, care- most, less what Now gone for evermore. "0 Christ! Thenceforth befell him, from that hlate- that I, ful spot, He muttered hoarsely, "might unsought The scene of such stern anguish and de- for lie spair, Here, in the dismal shadows and dank Aurelian rushed, hlie knew not, recked grass, not. where. And close my heavy eyelids, andl so pass LEGENDS AN-D LYRiCS. W1ith one brief struggle from the world Aurelian pass to madness or the grave, While care and wit of man perchance might save; So, pondering o'er what seemed a des perate case, At length there leapt into his kindling face The flush of a bright thoughit. I Heaven!" cried lie, ' O brother, there may still be holpe for thee; Therefore, take heart of grace, for what I tell Doubtless preludes a health-inspiring spell; And thou, released fromnt this long, sor rowful blight, Shalt feel thie stir of joy, and bless tihe morning light. "Ten years —ten centuries sometimes they would seemPassed idly o'er me like a mystic's dream; Ten years agolie, v-leln these dull locks of mine Flowed round broad shoulders with a perfumiiied slhine, And life's clear glass o'eribrimmed with purp'ing wine, I met in Orleans a shrew(l clerk-at-law, One all his comrades loved, yet viewed with awe, To whoml the deepest lore of antique ages, The stored secrets of old seers and sages In Greece, or Ind, or Araby, lay bare; From out the vacant kingdoms of the air, He could at will call forth a hundred forIns, Hideous or lovely; the wild wrath of storms; The zephyr's sweetness; bird, beast, wave, obeyed The luminous signs his slender wand conveyed, of men, Never to grieve or languish, -never again i Never to sow live seeds of expectation And joyous promise, to reap desolation; But as the seasons fly, snow-wreathed, or crowned With odorous garlands, rest in the mute ground, Peaceful, oblivious, - a Lethean cloud Wrapped round my faded senses like a shroud, And all earth's turmoil and its juggling shows Dead as a dream dissolved ten thousand years ago!" Long, long revolving his sad thoughts he stood. When gleefully from out the lightening w-ood Came the sharp r ing of horn and echoing steed; A score of huntsmen, scouring at full speed, Flashed like a brilliant meteor o'er the scene, In royal pomp of glimmnering gold and green; Whereat, with wrathful gestures,'neath the dome Of the old wood he hastened towards his home, Where day by day he grew more woeful pale, Calling on Ileaven unheard to ease his bale. Among his kinsfolk, many in hot haste, To salve an unknown wound with babns misplaced, Came the squire's brother, Curio, —a wise scribe, Modest withal, and nobler than his tribe; With heart as loving as his brain was wise: H e could not see with cold, indifferent eyes 1.-)6 T'E WIFE Ol BLRI'T'ANY. A-t whose weiird touch mnen sick in flesh or brain Became their old, bright, hopeful selves aga in. Aurielian. rise! shake off this vile disease, And ri(le with me to Orleans; an' it please God and our Lady, we may chance to meet 3Iine ancient comrade, who with deftest feat Of imagic skill may cut the Gordian knot That long hath bound, and darkly binds thy lot." 4'But,," said Aurelian, with a listless turn Of his drooped head, and wandering eyes that burn With a quick feverish brilliance, "dost thou speak Of thine own knowledge, when thou bid'st me seek This rare magician? Hast thott looked on aught Of all the mighty marvels he hath wrought?" 'Yea! I bethink me how, one summer's day, He led me through the city gates, away To the dark hollows'neathl a lonely hill: So hushed the noontide, and so breath less-still The drowsy air, the voice of one far stream Came like thin whispers murmur ing in a dream; The blithesome grasshopper, his sense half closed To all his verdurous luxury, reposed Pendent upon the quivering, spearlike grain; Steeped in the mellow sunshine's noise less rain, All Nature slept; alone the matron wren, From the thick coverts of her thorny den, ing low: Miy inmnost soul accordant, seemed to grow Langtuid and dumb within that mystic place. At length the Wizard's hand across my face Was waved with gentle motion; a vague niist Flickered before me, on a sudden kissed To warmth and glory by an influence bright; The strangest glamour hovered o'er my sight, Wherethrough I saw, methought, a palace proud, Crowned by a lightning-veined thunder cloud, Whose wreaths of vapory darkness gleamed with eyes Of multitudinous shifting fantasies; Its pinnacles like diamond spars out shone The starry splendors of an orient zone; And, leading towards its lordly entrance, rose Through slow gradations to its ma rbled close, White terraces where golden sunflowers bloomed; Above a ponderous portal archway loomed, High-columned, quaint, majestical: we passed Within that palace, gorgeous, wild, and vast. Ah! blessed saints! w hat wonders weirdly blen t Did smite me with a hushed astonish ment! A troop of monsters couchant lined our path, Their tawny manes and eyes of fiery wrath Erect and blazing; an unearthly roar Of fury, shaking vaulted roof and floor, 127 Teased the hot silence with her twitter LEGENDS AND LYRICS. Freight the fair zephllyrs, as they shyly thliroat, In sullen echoings lost thllrou,lgh halls and courts remote. 'At the far end of glimmering colon nadles That gleamled gigantic through the dusky shades, Two mighty doors swept backward noise lessly; There heaved beyond us a vast laboring sea; Not vacant, for a stately vessel bore Swift down the thlreatening tides that flashed before, Thronged with black-bearded Titans, such as moved In far-off times heroic, well-beloved Of the ol( gods; there at his stavlwart ease, Shouldering his knotted club, great Her cules Toweredl, his fierce eyes touched to dewy light, And rapt on HIylas, who, serenely bright, WAVith intense gaze uplifted, tranced and mute, Heard, in ecstatic reverie, the lute Of Orpheus plaining to the waves that bow And dance subsiding round the blazoned prow; Till the rude winds blew meekly, and caressed The mimic golden fleeces o'er the crest Of bard and warrior, on their secret quest Bound to the groves of Colchis; and the bark, Round which had frowned a threatening shape and dark, Now seemed to tllhrill, like some proud, sentient thing That glories in the pirowess of its wing. The gusty billows of that turbulent sea Their wild crests smoothed, and slowly, pantingly, Sunk to the quiet of a charmed calmn; AVhat odors Hespere6aan, what rich balmhn run O'er the lulled waters dimpling in the sun! And murmurings, hark! soft as the long drawn kiss Pressed by a young god-lover in his bliss On lips immortal, when the world was new; And, lo! across the pure, pellucid blue, A barge, with silken sails, whose beaute ouis crew, WVie fays aned COupids, cuel their sportive arms O'er one, more l ovel y in mheu noontide clhams Than youngest nyo mphs of Paphos; fra gr ant sl lowers Of freshenilg roses, all luxuriant flowers That feed on eastern dewvs, their fairv bands Scatter about her from white liberal hands; While o'er the surface of the dazzling water, Dark-eyed, mysterious, many an ocean daughter Flashes a vanishing brightness on her way, Half seen through tiny tinklings of the spray; And imusic its full heart in airy falls Outpours, like silvery cascades down the walls Of haunted rocks, and goldeln cymbals ring, And lutelike measures oil voluptuous wing Rise gently to the tranced heavens, re plying From azure-tinted deeps in a low pas sionate sigling,. "Then were all climes, all ages, wildly blended On blood-red fields, wherefrom shlrill shouts ascended I "-) 8 Burst froiii eacli sava!ze, ii-iai-ticulate THIE IVIFE OF? BR I T TA N Y. '' Throughl breezy copses, and the shad owy 1)0011oo Of mighltier wood(s, when, as the latest n hglance Of sunset, like a level burnished lance, Smote their steel morions, sauntering near the town, AaWitl thloulghtful miienl, robed in his schlolar's gown, They mlet a keen-eyed( man, ruddy and tall; O'er his grave vest a beard of w-avy fall Flowe(l like a rinshing streamilet, ripplilng dowisn: e Welcome! " he cried in mellow accents deel); " Tlhe stars lave warned me, and my visioned sleep Foretold your mission, gentles. Curio, what! TlIine ancient, loving comnrade quite forgot? Spur thy dull memory, gossip! " By St. Paul! The learned clerk, the gracious Artevall, Or glameour's in it," shouted Curio; "v yet Thou look'st as hale, as yolmg, as firmly set In face anl form, as if for thee old Time Ha(d stopped hllis flighlt." A lofty glance, sublime gn(Ad sw-ift as liglihtiing, fr om the Mlagi an's eye D)arte(l some latent meaning grave and Hcle spake not, but the twain lie gently led AVhiere grassy pathways and fair ineads were spread, Skirting the city walls, till near them stood, Fronting the gloomy boskage of a wood, The wizard's lonely home, I need not Lifes colisciousness, witlihi my lonely ling orow. pause All day they rode till walling, afternoon, To tell how ilagic an(1 the occult laws 129 Of naked wi-arriors, lhge and swart of LE GL'NDS AND LYRICS. Of sciences long dead that sage's lore Did in the spectral midnight hours ex plore. Enough, that his strange spells a mar vel wrought Beyond the utmost reach of credulous thotughlt. At last hlie said, "Sir Squire, my task is o'er; Go when thou wilt. and view the Breton shore, And thou shalt see a wide unwrinkled strand, Smooth as thy lovely lady's delicate hand, Washed by a sea o'er which the halcyon aWe st Broods like a happy heart whose dreams are dreams of rest. " alarms Here rested in those white, encircling arms, And oft his stro ng heart thrilled, his eyes grew dim, To know, kind heaven! h ow deep her love for him. Thus month on month the cheerful days went by, Like carolling birds across an April sky, A fairy sky undimmed by clouds or showers. But on a morning, while her favor ite flowers Iolene tended, i n the garden-walks Pausinig to clip d ead leaves and prop the stalks Of drooping plants, herself more sweet and fair Than any flower, the br-ightest that hl t)tsl ied th ere, Her lord stole gently on ler unaware; His haughty grace all softenied, he bowed down To kiss the stray curls o of her locks of brown, Thick sown with thread s of tangled, glimmering gold: "At need, " he said, " thou canst be caln and bold; Therefore, thou wil t n ot yield t o foolish wo e If duty parts us briefly. Wife, I go To scourge some banded ruffians who of late Assailed our peaceful serfs, and our es tate - Thou knowest it well- northwest of Penimark town, Ravished with sword and fire. Thy lord's renown, Yea, and thy lord, were soon the scoff of all, If in his own fair fief such crimes befall Unscourged of justice; so, dear love, adieu! Nor fear the end of that I have to do." PART III. Meanwhile Arviragus, a year before Returned in honor from the English shore, Led with his faithful Iolene that life Harmonious, justly balanced, free from strife, Which crowns our hopes with a true hearted wife. Ne'er dreamed he, as she laid her happy head Close to his heart, what cloud of shame and dread Gloomied o'er his placid roof-tree; but content To think how nobly his late toils had spent Their force beneath Death's gory drip ping brow Through shocks of battle, a fresh laurel bough Plucking therefrom to flourish green and high About his war-worn temples' majesty, 130 Gladly f.,-oin bloodshed, conflicts, a d THE WIFE OF BRIT2'ANY. Thus spake the knighlt, who forthwith raised a shout, And bade them bring his stalwart war horse out; Whenl, on the sudden, a steed, tall, jet black, Led )by a groom came whinnying down the track, 'Tw-ixt the green myrtle hedges; at a bound lie vaulted in the selle; smilingly round He turnedtl to wave "farewell" with mailed hand, And then rode blithely down the sunlit land. That evening, at the close of vesper prayer, Wanda(lering along through the still twi light air, Iolene, somewhat sadl and sick in mind, Met in her homeward patihway, low-r-e clined Beneath the blasted branches of an oak, Aurelian, her wild lover of old davs: She started backward in a wan amaze. But he, uprising calmly, bowed and spoke; "Ha! thou recall'st me, lady? I had deemed These bitter years which have so scarred and seamed Whate'er of grace I owned in youthful prime, Had razed me from thy memory. See a rime Like that of age hath touched my locks to white; Yet never once, - so help me heaven! by night Or day, in storm or brightness, hath my soul Veered but a point from thee, its starry goal. A mighty purpose doth itself fulfil, Wise men have said. Lady! I love thee still, And Love works marvels. Prithee come witlh mle, see I am no falsehlood-ms,ondter. Yea, colle, COmlle! I His woLrds, his sudden passion, smote her duslb, And froS h her cla eeks, those delicate gar dells, wa ne The rare twin roses, as when autumn lrain, Fatally sharp, sweeps o'er some doomed domain Of matron blooms, and their rich colors fade Like rainbows slowly dying, shade by shade, IUnto wan spectres of the flowers that were. With languid head and thoughts of pre scient fear, Passively following where Aurelian guides, She hears anon the surge and rush of tides On the seashore, and feels the freshen ing spray Bedew her brow. "1 Lady, look fortlh, and say If, to a love unquenched, unquenchable, Eternal Nature yields not; its strong spell Hath toiled for me, till the rocks rooted under Those heaving waters have been rent asunder, And the wide spaces of the ocean plain, Down to the farthest bounds of wild Bretaigne, Rise calnly glorious in the day-god's beam. Look, look thy fill! it is no vanishing dream: Lo! now I claim thy promise!" I'll 0 Ay, quickly conic, thco.'3.iiyjelf slialt A keen gleam Shot its victorious radiance o'er his brow. But sl-ie, bewildered, tremulous. shrink ing low, LEGENDS AND LYRICS. Borne down as by a demon's hand which ger-tips, Pressed on her blinded eyes and faltering lips, Sued in a voice like wailing wind that breaks From aspen coverts over lonely lakes, In the slint heart of iimmeinorial dTells, - A fitful, soblbing voice, whose anguLishl swells, Iiid(eied wA-ithl deep upyearnilig suppli cation, Col(llv across his evil exultation. hlie pleads for brief delay, withl frenzied pain (Graspiilg at some dimi phantom of thl e br-aiin, Shalil(owingi a v-ague deliverance. "IAs thoul wilt," I-te answered slowly. " Well I knowthe guilt Of b)roken -vows can never rest on thee! Pass by iunthurt Mlutely she turned to flee, Nor paused until her chambered privacy She reached with panlting sides, pallid as death, And gaspiing with short, anguished sobs for breath. C Catught am I, trapped like a poor flut tering bird, Or dappled youngling from the innocent hierdI Lured to a pitfall! Yet such oathl as this Were surelv void? If not, he still shlall miss - WAliate'er betide - his lolng-expected bliss! ,etter pure-folded arms, and stainless sleep Where the gray-droopinlg willow branches weep, Than mieet a fate so hideous! Let me think! Others,-pure wives, brave virgins, on the brin k Of slhamiie and ruill, have struck home pressed Invisible, but stifling on her breast, With brain benumbed, yet burning, and a sense Of utter, wearied(l, desperate impotence, Her forlorn glance around the darkening l'OOI1l paovi in haelpless search, from out the g,loo Cauglth tllh e )l e glitter of a lalft-shieatled bla(le, A small but trenchant steel, whose lustre played hdalefully bright, and like a serpent's eye Fixed on hTer switl malilgn expectancy, I)reth lhe perforce toward s Deat h, - t hat death whsicd s eenmed The sole, stern means through which lher famiie r(lcedieeed, Should soar in spiritual beauty o'er the tolnl) Wherein might rest her body's moulder ing bloom. Ah, me! the looks distraught, the passionate care, The whole wild scene, its misery and despair, Come back like scenes of yesterday. Italf bowed Her queenly form, and the pent grief allowed A moinent's freedom shakes her to the core, The illnost seat of reason. "All is o'er," She murmurs, as her slender fing-ers feel The deadly e(dge of the cold shliiimImering(, steel. At once her swvift arm flashes to its heighlt, While the poised death hangs quivering, and her sight Grows dazed and giddy: when from far, so far It sounded like the weird voice of a aTo fin el ed, t wit the ead." To find( uniend~ing quiet with the dead."' 132 Iler eliiielied hands pale e-v en to the fin stai,, I//~,, /;$,/ j '~ ~ "He turned to wave'fares-ell' witlh iianil(I hald, And tlhen rode blithely dowll the suilit land." I Ilj I / I ,<,d7Z z, U THE WIFE OF BRITTANY. lMuffled by distance, yet distinct and deep, About her in the terrible silence creep Accents that seize as with a bodily force On her white armn suspended, and its course To fatal issues. with arresting will IloldI rigidl, till supine it drops and still, 1Back to its drooping level, and a clang Of the freed steel through all the cham ber rang iSharply, and something shuddered down the air Like wings of baffled fiends passing in fierce despair. A warning blent of prescient wrath and prayer Those accents seemed, where through a palpable dread Ran coldly shivering. "Pause, pause, pause! " they said; Iar not thy hopes'gainst chance of happier fate! The circuit vast which rounds life's dial plate Itath ianya lights and shades; its hand which lowers So threatening cos?, may move to golden hours, And thou on this sad time may'st look like one siiiling on mortal woes from soime upsetting sun." Motionless, overcome by hushing awe, Slhe heard the imystic voice, and dreamed she saw,. Just o'er the dubious borders of the liglt. A- wavering apparition, scarce more bright Than one faint moon-ray, through the iuistv tears Of clouded evenings seen on breezeless mountain Ineres. hearts The solemn counsel sank: with guilty starts, She thought how near, through grief's bewildering blight, How near to death, to death and shamie, this night oIer reckless soul had strayed. Yet short-lived hope Maoved hour by hour through paths of n-arrowing scope, As, day by day, her term of grace passed by, Like phantom birds across a phantom sky; Her lord still absent, and Aurelian bound (For thus lie wrote her) to one weary round, p r[orn after morn, of pacings to and fro, Within the wooded garden-walls below The city's southward portals. "There," said he, " Each day, and all day long, impatiently I wait thy will." As when in dewy spring, 'Mid the mioist herbage closely nestling, Ofttimes we see the hunted partridge cling, Panting and scared, to the thick-cover ing grass, The while above her cou(lh dotlih (larkly pass AViWhat seemneth the shadow of a giailnt wing, And she, more lowly, with a cowering stoop, Shivers, expecting the fell, fiery swoop Of e,uni, a u the gaunt hawk, that corsai of the breeze, And feels beforehand his sharp talons seize And rend her tender vitals; so at lHome, Iolene, trembling at the stroke to c(,;mie, Touched by the lurid shadow of her doom, Lingered; until, upon a sunny dawn, tter lord returning, gayly up the lawn 133 listlike it wane(i; but in her heart of i I LEGEN0DS AND L YRICS. gis pitiless voice, sliarp-ecloinig round about The clanging court, leaped like a falcliioii out. " Thllou hlast played with honlor as a jug gler's ball; God strikes thee from thy balance, and the tlhrall Art thlou, hlenceforth, of one vainglorious deecl. What! shlall we plant with rashl caprice the seed Of bitterness, nor look for some harsh fr'uit To spring untimely from its poisonous root? AWhat! a lewd spark, a perfumed pop injay, Dares in the )road-browNed, honest gaze of day, To dashl a foul thought, like the hideous spray Of Ilell, right in thy forehlead,- and thy hand, AV Whichl should have towered as if the levin-bIrand( Of scolni and judgment armed it, but a blan(d Dismissal signs him! not one hint -hlicli tells Thy lord, meantime, whlat loathsome secret dwells He Ire, by his hearthstone, mulled up, concealed, And like a corse corrupting, till, revealed By vengeful dooml, its pestilent odor steals Outwardl, while alI the wholesome blood cong,eals To a chlill hlorror, and the air grows vile, And even the blessed sun a death's-hlead smile Assunes in our distempered fantasy? By Ileavenii! this withering curse which lhangs o'er tlhee, O lolene! "-but here his angry voice Broke short,-" There is no choice," lihe inoaned, 5' no choice. ing, cale l-])oln ler. warmly gloing, all aflame WAithl lhope and love. But as her dreary eyes Wvere tuin'ed on his, a quick, disturbed surplrise And tlien a terror, smote him, and the voice All jubilant, full-bareatlhed to say, "Re joice,. Our foes are slain! "' clave stamiimerling in hlls throat. But she. lier loose, dishevelled locks afloat Pound the fair-sloping shoulders, her lhands clasped Al)ouit his naild knees, brokenly gasped Ilir tliguisli forth, and told her sorrow ftul tale. D)izz-y and mute, and as the marble pale -Wlieicoii lie leaned, mIIto the desperate ('lose 'rhe kl]ighlt heard all, locked in a cold repose 3tore d(read than stormiest passion; life and stren gth Seemed slowly ebbing from him, till at length Hils soul, like one that w-alks the fatal sand (Whose treacherous smlootlm-ess looks a solid strand, But tempts to ruin), felt all earth grow dimi, And round him saw, as in a chaos, swiita Joy's fair horizon melting in the cloud. But soon his stalwart will, rugged and proud, WVoke lionlike to action; a swift flush P,Rushled like a sunset river's reddening glow O'er the tempestuous blackness of his brow, Pregnant with thunder; through the dis mal hush, l';)'4 Ui-,(,(l Iiis I)Iitlie coursei-, and, disiiioiint TIIE TI~E OF BlRITTANY. Thlrough ilmoments dceeined ilmeniding while they passedcA, l When passed, a flickering point! Ilark! The doomed hour at last! An afternioon it was, stirless and( calhn: From field and garden-close rare breatlhs of balhin lAfade the air moist and odorous. Nature lay Divinely peaceful; only far away In the broad zenith, a strange cloud unfurtled Its )bodling banner weirdly o'er the worl(l; AVlWhilst Iolene, her veiled head sadly bowved, Passed through the gay thorpe and its motley crowvd, To where a great wall towered this side a wvoodl. All things her.mazed, chlaotic fancy viewed Looked dreamlike; even Aurelian lin gerinig there, To mneet her in the shadiest forest-lair, Gleamed ghlostly diiim, a dreadful ghost in sootlh,For still a hideous tralnce appeared to press cUpon her and a nightmiare helpless n1ess,To whom she knelt in sad mechanic guise, Pleading for mercy with such piteous eyes, And such soft flow of self-)ewailing Aurelian felt his passion's (quivering, clhords Stilled at the touch of those pathetic words, That glance of wild appealing agonies. Stirred by his nobler nature's grave coinmaud (That fair, indwelling angel sweet and grand, Born to transmute the worn and blasted soil Of sinful lhear-ts by his celestial toil lie, To endless, as niowN keen calamity, ]lut thlrough this troublous gloomn my mind discerns One lonelv I ighlt to guide us; lo, it burns Lturid, yet clear, by whose fierce flame I see - Ahl, grief imialigni! ah, bitter destiny!As if God's own right hand the blazing paini And fiery b)ale did stamp on soul and braiu f l These terms of doom: ,5'hameof *csnd dletslqir for bo,th, 0o)-.0ot) ()1(I h1e()t7l))te(tk! ThoiotlUelh cll, keep) th ii e oatth, IThott 10t11o1, setf-inlrolr(ed, self-lost; (III(1 so Fece the I)lock,f)'oit of this t'eC)1lC)l(lOtts ?/ oe?' She b)owi-e(d as if a blast of sudden wvincl, Breathing full w-inter, smote lher cold and blind: Then as one w-an(leriiug in a sotul-eclipse, Feel)ly she rose, and wvithl her quivering lips Kissed her pale lord(l, stifling one desolate cry. Anonll she moved around him noiselessly Benit on the small, sweet offices of love; And sometimes pausing, she would glance above WAith tearless eyes, for soleimn griefs like this, Blighting at once both root and flowvers of bliss, Are arid as the desert, and in vain Tlhirst for the cooling freshness of the raiin, Fitfully led from treasured nook to nook Of her dear home, she walked with far off look, And absent fingers, plying household tasks: Bravely her sunless wretchedness she masks 135 Y(,a, wife! niav Cliiist,tdjud-e ine if I LEGENDS AND LYRICS. To Eden places and the haunts of God), He stooped, and, courteous, raised her from the sod, Anid whispered closely in her eager ear WAordls which his guardian genius smiled to heal; WAords of release, and balmy breathingr cheer. iAnd while his softening gaze a grateful m-irst Feelingly dimmed, with knightly grace hlie kissed tier d(rooping forehead, and loose tresses thrown In rippling waves adown the heaving zone; Once, twice, hlie kissed her thus, with reverence meek; But when her brimming eyes uplifted, seek Aurelian now, with eloquent looks to tell lWhat tenderest wordls could not convey so well, She only hears the tree-stenis, tall and brown, The golden leaves come faintly fluttering down, And onily hears the wind of sunset moan: Mid(most the twilight wood the lady stands alone. Stn-ng by his misery into frenzied nio tioll, IHer lord meantime beside the restless ocean Roained, hearkening to the mournful undertone Of the sea's mighty heart, which touched hil own, O God, how sadly! when abruptly lift ing Ilis furrowed brow, long fixed upon the shifting And mimic whirlwinds of loose sand that flewo Hither and thither, as the brief win-ids blewa waste, He saw, as if she spurned the earth in haste, His gentle wife returning, with a face Whereon there dwelt no shadow of dis grace; A face that seemed transfigured in the lisht Of Paradise, it shone so softly bright. Beautiful ever, round her now there hovered A subtle, new-born glory, which discov ered A shape so dazzling, yo u had thought the plume Of some arcleangel's pinion cast its bloom About her, and the veil of heaven with drawn, She viewed the mystic streamls, the sapphire dawn, And heard the choirs celestial, tier on tier Uptoweiring to the uttermost golden spher-e, Sing of a vanquished dread, a blest re lease, The effluence and the solenm cllarmii of peace. Evening closed rou-ind them; o'er the placi.(l reach Stretching far northward of the sea-girt beach, They passed, while night's first planet in the sky Faltered fromn out the stillness timidly, And perfumed breezes rustled murmmir ing by, 'Twixt the grimn lheadlanids up the glens to (lie, And wlite-w-iinged sea-biid(s, with a long drawn cry, Wlich spake of hiomieward flight and billowy nest, Glanced through the sunset down the wavering AVest. 136 .A,t fitful whiles from o'er the watery THE BIVE]?. 137~~~~~~~ Evening closed o'er themi, mniellowing Sf inlto dark; Along the hoiizol's edge, a tiny spark, Dull-red at first, but broadening to a white And tranquil orb of silver-streaming light, .Slow-ly the Night Queen fair her heaven ascends: The outlines of those loving forms she blends Into one luminous shade, which seems to float, [iligle and mielt in shining mlists remote; Type of two perfect lives, whose single soul Outbi'eatlies a cordial lmlsic, sweet and -whlole, One will, one mind, one joy-encircled fate, And( one winged faith that soars beyond the heavenly gate. So that whate'er of frenzied grief and pain IMarred the pure currents of the crystal str-ain, Transfiguredi shines thlrough fancy's mel lowing th a ince, Touching with golden haze the quaint old-world r-omanice. NOTE.- Of "The Frankleines Tale," the plot of which has beein followed iin " The Wife of Brittainy," RIicliar(l IIeliry Horlie, thle autlhor of "1Orion-," says: " It is at noble story, perfect in its mioral purpose, ali(l chivalrous self-devotioii to a feeling of truth and honior; but it w ouln have beedl more satisfa ctory id ani intellectual selise had a (listiiietioii beeni miiade betw eenl a sincere pledge of faith aiid a' merry bond!' " ["Man's life is like t river, vwhichl likewise hatli its seasons or pliases of progress: first, its sl)ring rise, gentle aiild beautiful; next, its slramimer, of eveotftl imatLLrity, iiiixecl calm, aud(r storiie, followed by LutLuwntr i al decadence, aind imiists of winter, tfter which cometh the all-emiibraciing sea, type of that mystery we call eternity! "] My song, -whlichll now hlatli long flovewed unperplexed Thlrotughl scenes so various, cal as h as hlieaveii, or vexed By gusty passioni, reaches the lone shore, Ghlostlike and strange, of silence and old dIreamns; Nar-off its w-eird andi wanlering whisper seemns Like airs that faint o'er untrackedl oceans lhoar On lihauted miidnighlts, when the mioon is lo-w. And lnow'tis ended: long, yea, longi ago, Lost on the wings of all the winds that blow, The dust of these dead loves hath passed aw-ay; Still, still, moethinks, a soft, ethereal ray Illimnles the tender record, anmd makes bright Its lheart-deep pathos with a marvellous lighlt, UP among the dew-lit fallows Slight but fair it took its rise, And through rounds of golden shallows Brightened un(ler broadening skies; While the dlelicate windt of morning Touched the waves to happier grace, Like a breath of love's forewarning, Dimopl ing o'er a virgin face,Till the tides of that rare river 3Lerged and mellowed into one, Flashed the shafts from sundawin's quiver Backward to the sun. Royal breadths of sky-bornl blushes Burned athwart its billowy breast,But beyond those roseate flushes Shone the snow-white swans at rest; Round in graceful flights the swallows Dipped and soared, and soaring sang, And( in bhays an d ree(t-ouvn( hollows, How earth's wild, sweet voices rang! THEY -RIFTR. 137 TIIE, P, I T'E 11. LEGILL VDS5' AN'D L llS. Till thle stroing swift, gloriouts river Seemiied w,N-itlh Illightier puilse to ruiin, Thul s to roll alnd trushl forever, Laughing ii) thle suIn. Till the tides, grownvi sa(d and(I weary, Lonllge(l to meet tie IIighltiel Iiain, AOd their low-toil ed Jis eg i'ier M\inigled witlh hiis granid refraiin; Ohi, the lanigiui(l, lapsillg river, AWeak of I)pulse and soft of ttunie,Lo! the Sllll lhatlh set foirever-, Lo! the ghostly Ilooll! Nay; a somlletling born of shladowe Slowly crel)t the landscape o'er,Sometli ng weird o'er wave anid meadow, ,oinetliing cold o'er stream and sliore; IWhile onl birds that gleamed or chanted, Stole gray gloomi aid( silence griim, And( thle trotubledtl wav-e-lieart panited, Alid the sinliig hleavens waxed digma, And froin far strange spaces seaw-ard, Out of dreamy cloud-lands dun, Came a low- gust mioaning leew-ard, Chilling leaf anid sun. llt tlhencefortlh tlhr-oughl II1oo01 and star light Suidden-s-ift the stream-let's sweep; Yearni-ing for the mystic far-liglt, lining for the solemn deep; Wlile the old strenigtlh gathers o'er it, Wllile the old voice ring,s sublime, And in pallid Illist before it, Fade the phlantomi shlows of time,Till wNithl one last eddying quiver, All its clheckelred journey done, Seaward breaks tlhe ransomed river, Goal and grave are won! Then, from gloom to gloom intenser, On thle laboring streamlet rolled, Where from cloud-racks gathered denser, Hark! the ominous thlinder knolled! While like ghosts that flit and shiver, Down the -,nists, from out the blast, Spectral pinions crossed tle river, Spectral voices wailing passed! Till the fierce tides, rising starkly, B lended, to-ering into one MNi,hty wall of blackness, darkly Quenching sky and sun! LIST to this legend, which an antique poet HfIatli left among the musty tomes of eld, Like a fluslhed( rosebud pressed between the leaves Of some worn, dark-liued volume. What a light Of healthful bloom about it! What an air Seems breathing round its delicate petals still! Wilt tlion not take it, lady, - thou, whose face Is lovely as a lost Arcadian dream, - And place it next thy heart, and keep it fresh With balmiy dews thy gentle spirit sends Thence, to softer scenes it wvandered, Scents of flowers and airs of balm, And nlethought the streamnlet pondered, Conscious of the blissful calm; Slow it wound now, slowv and slower By still beach and ripply bight, And the voice of waves sank lower, Laden, languid with delight; In and out the cordial river Strayed in peaceful curves that won Glory from the great Life-Giver, Beauty from the sun! Thence again with quaintest ranges, On the fateful streainlet rolled Through unnuiimbered.naimeless chlanges, Shade and sunshine, gloomi and gold, * The elements of this story are to be found in Apolloiiius lRhodius, and Leigh Hunit has embodied them in- a graceful prose legend. 138 0 THE STOI?Y 01' GLAUCUS TIIE I'IIF S,5ALI-4-Y. * TO "On the fateful streanlet rolled Through ununnuibered, namneless changes Shade and sminshine, gloom and gold." TIHE STORY OF GLAUCUS THE;DESSALIAN. Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly, The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it camne, ilurmured this record unto her he loved?' AMusing he passed to a still lonelier place In the dliii forest, by this act of grace Lightened and cheered, wihen, from the copse-wi7ood nigh, There dawne d upon his vision suddenly A shape more fair and iustrous than the star Which rides o'er Cloudland on her sapphire car When vesper winds are fluting solemnly. "Glaucus," she said, in t ones whose liquid flow, Mellow, harmonious, passionately low, Stole o'er his spirit with a strange, wild thrill, "I am the Nymph of that fair tree thy will Hath saved f rom ruin; but for the e my breath Had vanished mistlike,- my glad eyes in death Been sealed for evermore. Yes! but for thee I must have lost that half-(livinity Whose secret essence, spiritually fine, Hath warmed my veins like Hebe's heavenly wine. No more, no more amid my rippling hair Could I have felt soft fingers of the air Dallying at dawn or twilight, —on my cheek Have felt the sun rest with a rosy streak, Pulsing in languor; nor with pleasant pain Drooped in the cool arms of the loving Rain, That wept its soul out on my bosom fair. But now. in long, calm, blissful days to be, This life of mine shall lapse deliciously Tlhroug,h all the seasons of the boun teous year; Beneath my shade mortals shall sit, and hear Benignant whispers in the shimmering leaves; And sometimes, upon warm and odorous eves, THE STORY. Glaucus, a young Thessalian, while the dawn Of a fresh spring-tide brightened copse and lawn, ,Sauntered, with lingering steps and dreamy mood, Adown the fragrant pathway of a wood AWhich skirted his small homestead pleasantly, - And there he saw a tall, majestic tree, An oak of untold summers, whose broad crown, Quivering as if in some slow agony, And trembling inch by inch forlornly down, Threatened, for want of a kind propping care, To leave its breezy realm of golden air, And from its leafy heights, with shriek and groan, Like some proud forest empire over thrown, Measure its vast bulk on the greensward lone. Glaucus behleld and pitied it. He saw The approaching ruin with a touch of an-e, No less than genial sympathy,- for men, In those old times, pierced with a wviser ken To the deep soul of Nature, and from thence Drew a serene and mystic influence, AZWhich thrilled all life to music. There fore lihe Call ed on his slaves, and bade them prop the tree. 139 140 LE&END AND LYiJLS. Lovers shall bring me offerings of sweet thlings, - Jioney and fruit, - and dclreamn they mark the wings Of Cupids fluttering thlirough the oak bougls hoar. All this I owe thee, Glaucus, -all, and more! Ask what thou wilt! - thou shalt not ask in vain!" Then Glaucus, gazing in her glorious eyes, And rallying from his first unmanned surprise, Emboldened, too, by her soft looks, wihiclh drew A spell about his heart like fire and dew Mingled and ineltilng in a love-chlarm A bland, - And by the twinkling of her mioonl-whllite hand, That seemed to beckon coyly to her side, And by her miaiden sweetness deified, And sonietliling that he deemed a dear unrest Heaving the unveiled billows of her breast - (As if her preternatural part, as free And wild as any nursling of the lea, Yearned wholly downward to human ity)Emboldened thus, I say, Glaucus re plied: "O fairest vision! be my love, - my bride! " Over her face there passed an airy flush, The roseate shade, the twililght of a blush, Ere the low-whispering answer pensively Stirred the dim silence in its tranced hush. " Thy suit is granted, Glaucus! though, perchance A peril broods o'er this, thy bright ro lmanice, l-ike a lone cloudlet o'er a lake that's fair. nOW Fades into evening, th ou may'st meet hle here, Just in the c ool of th is rill-sladowing bough; My favorite bee, my fairy of the flowers, Shall bid thee come to that pure tryst of ours. " Wvho now so proud as Glaiieus? "I have won," Lightly lie said, " the marvellous bein ison Of love from her in whose soft-folding arms Gods might forget Elysium! O! her charlms Are perfect,-perfect heaven and per fect earth, Blest and corinmingled in one exquisite birth Of beauty, -and for me! I know not why, But rosy Eros ever seenis to fly Gayly before me, armed for victory, In every pleasant love-strife! " On this theme Deeply he dwelt, till a vain self-esteem Obscured his worthier spirit. Thus he went Out from the haunted wood, his nature tolled Dowin to the common daylight, disen zoned Of all its rare, ethereal ravishment. Still in this mlood, lie sought the neigh boring town, AIet with some gay young comrades, and sat down To dice and wassail. All that morn lie played, And quaffed, and sang, and feasted, till the shade Of evening o'er earth's forehead cast a gloom I; And still he played, when on his ear the boom 140 LEGENDS AVD LYRICS. Wlien the Iiigli iiooii, flauiiting so liotly paSSe(I b'ack to its hiomie amiiid the foliaged bl)oolllm. At lelgthl. in tw-o most fortunate thlrows, the game Was wonio by Glaucus! Withl triilumiphant l a slm-ile lie seized( and pocketed a glittering pile Of lnew- sestertii.'Av!'tis e'er tlle samie, He muttered; "dice or womien, T )i i,st wSinl! But lhol(l'-by Venus!'twere a )iburniing Sill, Anli false to imy fond wild flower of the N-ood Loniger to dally hlere. O Fortnne! goo(ld, Kinid llistress, speed iue still! lWould that each hleel WAere pltnmed like happy liermoes'!" His late zeal Spurred the voutli onward to the place of tryst. - ()ne final bl)urst of suniset- a-methlyst, .!'uby, and topaz —blazed amiong the boughiprs, WAience a sad voice,-" Bieokei- of ,solel-lsl} ii x I1-11ht (1o.St tholt here? Thinie hoZtt. hltt. j)6t foJ' ((lye!. (;latucus. w-ith startled eyes, peel(red I throutgh the swvay Of mioistened fern and thicket, I)ut liis v-ieNwR'ested alone on vacancy, or caughlt, Swift as the shifting glamour of a thought, The youthi with straining eyeballs and( hot brain, Sealched the (ldese thickets, -it was all ill vaiin. A" las! alas!" (aind now a tremulous lnoau Sobbed thllroLlughll thic voice, like a faint ninor tone In inournful limIaii itiusic) -" thou cans1t s(ee 31y face no mioi-(,, for sternly, drearily, A wildering clotid of sense, that shall 11ot rise, 'lath colie b)etwveeiin mte and thly darkeii ing eyes. 0 shliallow-learte(l! nevermore on thee Shall visioAn s o f th at liner worlo above I)awni firomi the cl?aste auioi-as of the s t as i r love.; But commiiion thinigs, seen in a funeral lhaze Of earthiness, ad(I soririow, and(i imistru,st, Weighi the soul (doN,-i and soil its hopes witlh (dlust; A hand like Fate's with cruiel force shall press Thy spirit backwvard i11to h1eaviness, And the base irealhn of that foirlor-n abyss Wlhereiii the serl)ent Passions wi-rithe and hiiss II1 savage desolation! Blind, blind, bulindl A-rt tlhoui hen(cefortlh in heart, and hope, and iiiind! Foi he to wlihom miy messenger of joy Anid soothing promise only brought annoy LE(GEINDS AND L'RICS. And( sharp disquiet ill his low-borin lust, - VWhat, -whlat to him I(leel Beuttty' s kiss, The chlarmi of lofty converse in the dells, Of divinle meetings, musical farewells, And glimpses through the flickering leaves at night Of such fair mysteries in awe-hushing light That even I, -lwho in these forests dwell Purely withl innocent creatures, unto whom All Nature opes her innermost heart of bloo]m And blessedness, by some majestic spell Uplifted unto realmns ineffable, Faint almost in the splendor large and clear? The winds hlave ceased their nmurmur ings,- on my ear The rill-songs melt to threads of delicate tune, And every small mote dancing in the nliooni Expands, and brightens to a spiritual eye, Luiring me up to Inmortality. O! then my eartlhly nature, loosening slips Down like a garment, and invisible lips Whlisper the secrets of their happier sphere! This bliss. O youthl! my soul had shared wN-ithl one Wortlhy the gift! Alas! thout art not hle!" The voice died off toward the waning slll! Glaucus looked up, -the gaunt, gray forest trees Seemed to close o'er him like a vault of stone. AT the poet's life-core lying Is a sheltered and sacred nest, Where, as yet, unfledged for flying, His callow fancies rest: Fancies, and thoughts, and feelings, Which the m iotheri Psyche breeds, And passions -whlose (lini revealings B3ut torture their huniiigry needs. Yet,- there cometli a sumnmer splendor When the golden brood wTax strong, And, with voices grand or ten(ler, They rise to the heaven of song. NOT DEAD. TO IJ. A. 1). IIEPnE, at the sweetest hour of this sweet day, liere in the callnest woodland hlaunt I know, Benignant thoughts around my inenioryy play, And in my heart do pleasant fancies blow, Like flowers tuirnedl to thee, radiant and aglow, Flushed by the light of times forever fled, oWhose tender glory pales, but is not dead. The warm south wind is like thy gener olls breath, Laden with kindly words of gentle clheer. And every whispering leaf above me saitlh, She whom tlhou dr(eam'st so distant hovers near-; Her love it is that thrills the sunset air With ]nystic motions froui a time that's fled, hLong past and gone, in sooth, - ut, oh! not dead! 14,-) 7'HE NES7. " Jitst Go cis! " lie si,lied, " I (t)ii iii deed (floile.,, lMAR JG ULI1'E.l 7E. The drow-sy murmiur of cool brooks l)elow; The soft. slow clouds that seemii to ))~tse on hlilob; Love-notes of hidden birds, that coime and( go, 5Iakiing a sentient rapture of the sky; All the rare season's peaceful sorcery, These lhints of cordial joys forever fled, Joys past, indeed, and yet they are not dead: Far fromn the motley thlrong of sordid men, FromJ fashion far, mean strife and frenizied gaini. In thlose dlear (lays through many a mountain glen, By nloinitain streams, and fields of rippling grain, We roamied untouched by Passion's feverish pain, But quaffing Friendshlip's tranquil dralughlts instead, Its waters clear lwhose sweetness is not dead! Above that nook of fair remembrance stands A dove-eved Faitl, that falters not, nor sleeps; No flowers of Lethe droop in her white lhands. And if the watch that steadfast angel keeps 13e penisive and some transient tears she weeps, Thley are but tears a fondl regret may shled O'er twilighlt joys which fade, but are not dead! Not dead! not dead! but glorified and faiIr. Lik e oondler marvellous cloudland floating far Betw-een the mellow ing sunset's amber air star, Ohl, such, so pure, so bright, these memoroies are! Eartlh's warmitlh and Ileaven's serene around them spread, They pass, they wane, but, sweet! thecy are not dead! AS ONAE'1'. HASd T thou behleld a landscape dull] an(l bare, On which, at times, a flying gleami was slhed From some shy sunbeam shifting over head, That made the scene for one bri(f myio ment fair? Sucl is the light, so transient, flickering, rare, Which, from fate's sullen heavens above me spread, Itatlh flushed the path my weary foot steps tread, And lent to darkness glimpses of sweet clheer. Alas! alas! that I, whose soul dlothl burn With such deep passion for a steadfast bliss, Must bend forever o'er hlope's burial urn, And greet even love witli a half mournful kiss! In sooth, what stern, malignant doom is this? Joy! delicate Ariel! ah! return! return! MAR G URI?I TE. SHE was a child of gentlest air, Of deep-dark eyes, but golden hlair, And, ahl! I loved her unaware, Marguerite! She spelled me with those midnight eyes, The sweetness of her naive replies, And all h er innocent sorceries, Marg,uerite T 143 Aiid the iiiild lustre of eve's (arliest 144 LLUENI) ANt) L1I(1. The fever of myv soul grew calm Beneath her smile that healed like balmi, HIer words were holier tlhan a psalmi, Marguerite! Sieem rolled fromii tlhundler-clouds up curled About a clim and (listanit world; 1Bielow me, in tlhe sunless glooim; But round miy browv the amaranths bloomii Of sober joy with lheart's-ease furled; For imore,, whlat mnore can man desire Than love that burns a steadfast fire, And faithl that ever leads him higlheri. AWhlere all the jars of earthl shlall cease? But'twixt us yawne(l a gulf of fate, Whose blackness I behlelld,- too late. 0 Chriist,I tlcit lore sh1ottld( siite like hate, hSle (lid not withler to the tomb, lBut iround her crept a tender gloom M[ore touchling than her earliest blooim, M1arguerite! A present glory liaunts my way, A promise of diviner (lay Illuimes the fluslhed( horizon's verge; And fainter, farthler still, the snrge Of buffeting waves that beat an(l ioarI Up the dim world's temnpestuolus slioie :Benieath ime ill the moonlless air-s; Alas, its passions, sorrows, cares! Alas, its fathomless despairs! Yet d(reams, vague dreams, they seem to Ille, On these clear heights of liberty, Thiese suramnits of serene desire,Whence love ascends, a quencliless fire, And sweet faith ever leads me higLer To pearly paths of perfect peace! The suli of one fai r l yope -had set, A lhope she dared niot all forget, Its tw-iligllt glory kissedl her yet, MAarguerite! And ever in the twviliglht fair Moves w-ith deep ey-es and golden hlair The child who loved ine unaware! Marguerite! APART. Co_i[E not with empty words that say, "Your strength of manhood wastes away In long, ignoble, fruitless years! " I live apart from pain and tears, Whlerewith the ways of men are sown, Nor dwell I loveless and alone; One tender spirit shares my dlays, One voice is sw-ift to yield nme praise, ()Oe true heart beats against my own! AWhat more, what more could man desire Than love that burns a steadfast fire And faithl that ever leads himn higher Alollng the pathi which points to peace? The little a )oelris wh licl follow we re s1iggested by ain oriental idlea (levelolped ini Alge,"'s " Specimlenis of Ea,stern-i Poetry-." The lIIoont is strangely sl)okeni of as miiascutlinie. Only vlwhen the moon appears Thrliouigh a silvery mist of tears, Ohl, far and faint I hear the din Of battle-blows, and niortal sin From out the stir and press of life; hliose hollow mullffled sound(s of strife -1,EGL,'-V,D,S AND 144 -Nlargtierite! i LOTO, ANI) TIIE, -LIL)-. ,rlle i,o,ros. Di.,oopi —N-(,,, iii the s,.,inlit streams, AVe are Nvi-al)ped all (lay iii di-(ai is; .Nlori-i an(I i-tooi-i an(i ev(nii,ig liglit ll,obed for us iii garbs of iiiglit. Froiii tl-le waters dark ai-id still, We ai-ise to drink oui- till THE L'O TOS AND THE LILY. And( our snowy necks in pride Curve about thle glittering tidle! AVWarmthl for warmthl and kiss for kiss, All our pulses burni with bliss, All! no longer p -an apped in dreams, How we pant beneatlh his beams! IHow-. with breath of softest sighs, We unclose our yearning eyes, "View us, lwite robed( lilies, NVe, wliose beaety's rareness Sleeps iuntil the bri(legro(,m sun Woos our virgin fairness." Till I' I,IY. VIF,w us, w-hite-robed lilies, WAVe -whlose beauty's rareness Sleeps until the bridegroomnl Sn h AWoos our virgin fairness. Then, our bosoms baring, 'Neathl his ardent kisses, Stembi e, aTt leaf, an elicatoe hearet Tremiiblinig into blisses, Thles all, ( i ll eal yield himn g Of oiir slH'indl sw(eetness, All tllat maiden warmiitlh mLay grant l'o tr,ie love's comnpleteniess, 145 Of the tender lo-e he slheds On our fair enamored lheads. Till revealed our inmost charms Glowing in the iniglht-god's arms. i I The full, fervid oodhlead Thrills our being tender, And our happy souls expand In ecstatic splendor. I L EG ( di)KS AiD L,1'l 1(. niow breathless still! A mystic glamour keeps Calm watch and ward o'er this weird. drowsy hour: Yon heaven's at peace, the earth be nignly sleeps; And thlou, thou slumberest too, my w oodland iflower, Fail lily steeped in light And happy visions of the marvellous night! TIiE rain, the desolate rain! Ceaseless. and solemni-, and chill! How- it drips on the misty pane, Itowv it drenches the darkened sill! O scene of sorrow and dearth! I whould that the wind awaking To a fierce and gusty birth, Might vary this dull refrain Of the rain, the desolate rain: For the heart of heaven seems breaking In tears o'er the fallen earth, And again, again, again W1'e list to the solmbre strain, The faint, cold nionotoneeWhlose soul is a mystic moanOf the rain, the mournful rain, The soft, despairing rain! I Graft a sigh from this fond soul to thine, -- A little sighl, yet honey-lad(len, dear, Weith fairy freigsltage of such hv opes (mi vine As fain would flutter gently at thine ear, And, entering, find their way Down to the heart so veiled from me by day. The rain, the murmurous rain! I'Wearv, passionless, slow, 'Tis the rhythm of settled sorrow, 'Tis the sobbing of cureless woe! And all the tragic of life, The pathos of Long-Ago, Comnes back on the sad refrain Of the rain, the dreary rain, Till the graves in my heart unclose, And the dead that its depths enfold, Fromi a solemn and weird repose Awake,- but with eyelids cold, And voices that melt in pain On the tide of the plaintive rain, The yearning, hopeless rain, The long, low, whispering rain! In dreams, in dreams, perchance, thou art not coy; And one keen hope more bold than all the rest eMay touch thy spirit with a tremulous joy, And stir an answering softness in thy breast: 0 sleep! 0 blest eclipse! AWrhat ram'mured word is faltering at her lips? Awake for one brief moment, genial South: Breathe o'er her slumbers, - waft that word to me, Warmi with the fragrance of ier rosebui mouth, Enwreathled in sniles of dreamful fan tasy: Come, whisper, low and light, The name which haunts her maiden trance to-night. "I-V UTOQ UE FIDELLS." ALONG the woods the whispering night airs swoon, Ai single bird-note dies adown the trees, Clear, pallid, mournful, droops the sum mer moon, Dipped in the foam of cloudland's phantom seas; - Soundless they he ave above The dim, ancestral home that holds my love. Still, breathlless-still! No voice in earth I oy know r y delicate darling lies,r: I only kn-ow imy delicate darling lies, 14C) lf'I-VDLESS I,'-41-V. -~~~~~~~Gl OIJ. A twilight lustre glimmnering in her hlair, And dews of peace within her languid eyes: Yea, only know that I tmii called fromn love and dreams, per lhaps to die, Then a queenly spouses Raised unto fruitful empire, through all hou rs Of bounteous summer, she walks proudly on, Shining with blissful eyes of matronhood, Till, at the last, autumn, with reverent hand, Doth crown her with such full, com pleted joy, Such wealth of sovereign beauty, she once nlore About her brows and sumptuous bosom folds That golden veil,- not in the tremulous fear Of mnaiden coyness now, but lest rash men, Drawn by her awful loveliness, should dare To gaze too closely on it, and thus fall, Smitten and blind, at her imperial feet!. Die when the heavens are thick with scarlet rain, Anid every tiimie-throb's fated: even there Her face would shine through mists of mortal pain, And sweeten death, like some incar nate prayer: Hark! tis the trumpets swell! 0 love! O dreams! farewell, farewell, far-ewell! NA4TUIJE, BETROT[E AND A JVD tEDDED. HAV E you not noted how in early spring, From out the forests, past the mnurnur ing brooks, O'er the hillsides, Nature, with airy grace, Like somne fair virgin, touched by lights and shlades, Glides timidly, a veil of golden mist About her brows, and budding bosom draped In maiden coyness? She's a bride be trothed Unto that mystic god, who comes from far, Rich Orient lands upon the winds of June, That bear him like swift ardors, winged with fire; And when, on some calmn, lustrous morn, her lord Uplifts the' golden veil, and weds to hers The quickening warmth of ripe, inmmor tal lips, How the broad earth leaps into raptured life, And thrills with music! WaHAT time the rosy-flushing West Sleeps soft on copse and dingle, Wherein the sunset shadows rest, Or richly float and mingle; Just as t he mystic cloudlan(l s ope, Far up their sapphire portal, Fair as the fairest dream of IHope, Half goddess andl half mortal, I se e t hat lovel y g enius rise, That child of Orient trances, On whose sweet face the glory lies Of weird Hellenic fancies, Chloris! beneath whose procreant tread All earth yields up her sweetness, The violet's scent, the rose's red, The dalhlia's orbed completeness, C]IL 0 I,, is. 147 CIIIIL ORIS. lvhen down the -v, ale the wood-dove' s tone Tlirills in a cadence tender, And every rare, ethereal i-note Turns to a wing6d splendor. LEGENDS AND LYRICS. Anid verdures on the myriad hills, The breath of her pure duty Hath nursed to life by sparkling rills And foliaged nooks of beauty; Till bloom and odor, blush and song, So fill eartli's radiant slices, The fading touch of sin, or w~rong, Leaves glad the weariest faces; And so. through happy spring-tide dells, O'er mount,s and fi eld, and river, Her zephyr's fairv clarion swells, Her footsteps glance forever! Rose tlhrilled with action, or high strung at aiin, Beneath his jewelled doublet! WVhile the hand So warin, so white, and wont to press the i)alhn In palpitating clasp of fair sixteen, Could wield the ponderous battle-axe, or flash The lighltliing rapier in the foeman's eyes. Prince of the tourney and the dance alike, War's fiercer lists had seen his furrow less brow Flushed red with heat of battle, heard his voice Shrilled clear beyond the clarions, mount and break In larklike song far o'er the mists of blood, Through victory's calmer heaven. Mi,ixed love and fear, With love ofttimiies preponderant, girded liiiii Closely as with an atmosphere disturbed Only by hints of thunder, ghosts of cloud. But love, all love, love in her passionate eyes, Love'twixt the pure twin rosebuds of her mouth, Love in the arch of brooding, beauteous brows, And every wavering dimple wherein smiles At hide-and-seek with sly, mock frown ings played,All love was Freyla, though a princess she, For this unknown Fortunio! Wildly beat And burned her heart at each soft glance he gave, Or softer word, albeit as yet unthrilled By answering passion! Swiftly flew her dre am s Birdlike on balmy winds of fancy borne, FOR T UN10. A5 PARABLE FOR THE TIMIES. Wiio at the court of Astolf, the great King, King of a realh of firs, and icy floes, Cold bright fiords, and mountains capped with cloiuds. AWho there so loved and honored as the knighlt, The youthful knight Fortunio? Whence he came, None knew, nor whom his kindred: at a bound Hie passed all rivals mnoving towards the throne, And stood firm-poised above them; yet with mien So sweet it honeyed envy, and sur prised The bitterest railers into complaisance! Low-voiced and delicate-featured, with a cheek As soft as peach down, or the golden dust Shrined in a maiden lily's heart of hearts, Yet a stern will bent bowlike, with the shaft Of some keen purpose swiftly drawn to head, Or launched unerring at its lofty mark, 148 FOR0'VUIO. 149 'To bridal realhns eipurple(d and di- While 1age, S(oorn's ally, in hler father's vine,- breast, Alas! but Scorn, that long had lurked Clutched the sweet dreameir ridely, and spied dragged her soul In ambushl, shot its sudden bolts, and Into the garish glare of collmonplace broughllt (Soon to be lit by horirorIs lurid st.tr!) Those wingad dreams transfixed to earth And so convulsed her tenderness witl and dead! threats, "King of a realm of firs, and Coldl bright fiords, and mou 'T'liat all her being seeie(1 collapsed t o fall ('rushled. as in moral earthquake:' I)ot ing fool," ()'itslhrieked the King, " dost dream I great Odin's blood ('oul(i niix with veins plebeian? Purge thylv thoughts, l'nvirgined, vile, of sacrilegious siin! l,ut for this boy, our twelvenmouthl's grace hath raised So high, a moment's justice shall east d ow n To fathomless depths of ruini" IVherewithal (Harping on justice still, thouglh justice slept) gThe King decreed, "This youthe FoIi tb - nio dies! " So, on a br-ight spring imiorni, the knight stood up, Fronti11g the r-oyal doomiisimeii, with a face Suiblimiiely (almii; tlhey tore lhis hravery off, His jewelled vest and kilightlhood's golden spurs, LEGENDS AND LYIICS. But on the soft white bosoiii whlich hlail,A\lmin lo benleatlh those roughl, dlisrob ing hands, 'I'he (i(:le(1o0?(, letv(l se(licc', coyly I)oICC(l, ():utft7ci,e(l t Ct i)yUili bectity cheste.(l The lIKing, behlolding, started, and then smiiled: ' Thou want-atoi madcap," said hlie, "go in peace!' 0 cordial eyes, the brown eyes and the blue, Or y-e dlark eyes, with deeps like nid night heavens, W\there unimagined worlds of thought and love Sline starlike, wouLl( ye quench your glorious rays In the low levels of the lives of men? 0 gracious souls of women tender-sweet, And lumlinous with goodness, would ye soil Your nascent angel-plumnage in the stye Of sordid w-orldliness? Be warned, be warned! Set not the frail spears of your rashl caprlice In rest against great Nature's pierceless shield; Strive not to grasp monopolies impure, Mani's fated heritage. Be warned, be warned! For surely as yon bright sun dawNns and dies, And sure as Nature, all iminiutable, Year after year completes her mystic round Through law's vast orbit, -so ye des perate Fair, Arrayed against thle eternal force of God, M[ust fall discomfited, and like that knight, The false Fortunio, rest your claims at last, Not on deft spells of simulated power, A FE UDAL I'ICTUI'E. [SCENE - Tlhe (orri(or of a Palace. Pii. — so>-,s-A yoiunLg Knvlight an(d hiis MNtenitor. TIMIE - The Fourteenltlh Century.] N I IT0 1T',. WITTI what a grace she passed us )y just now! Her delicate chlin hlalf raised, her cordial brow A cloudless heaven of bland benignities! sWhat te ohpe e ere lustre too in her (loe's eyes, Just touched to archhess by the eye browv's cllrve, And those qui ck (seimp e les which tldwih Ipiloutlh s reserve Stir and break up, as sunlit ripples break The cool, clear calhness of a mountain lake! A w,omiian in wlhom majesty and sw(eet ness 13lend to suclh issues of serene comnplete ness, That to gaze on her were a princ(-e('s booll! The calnm of e(veniing, tlh(e large poImp) of 110011, Are hers; soft [lay morns meltinig into Jilne, Itold not such ten(ler lan.guiislhmterits as those Which steep her in that dewv-liglit of repose, That floats a dreamly balmt' arroud the full-blown ros(: -- And yet,'tis iiot her beauty, thouglh so b~righlt (Clear miiooni-fir( mixed witll suLi-flame), nor tlhe liglht, Transparent clhar wi- NNre feel so exquisite, 150 .ii(I I)are(I Iiis Ileart to catcli the arroin-y enspliei-es The sacre(I cliarnis of peifect woii-iaii liood! A FEUDAL PICTURE. AWhereby she's compassed as a wizard star Bv its owni life-air'.'tis not one, nor all Of these, whereby we're mastered, Sir, and fall Slavelike before her: doubtless such things (tree Potent as spells,- still there s a sonme thing fine, Subtler than hloar-rimne in the faint moonshine, AMoie potent yet!-an undefined art, 'lwere vain to question: your whole being, heart, ','ain. blood, seenm lapsing fromn you, fired and fused in lieis..-a terrible power, and if abused llt bv St. Peter!'tis not safe to talk Of you weird womanl! turn now! watch her walk 'TwNixt the tall tiger-lilies, —there's a free, Brave grace in every step, - but still to mie, It hath - I know not what - of covert ness, Cunning, and c.r~el purpose! can you guess The picture it brings up?-a lonely rock From which a young Bedouin guards his flock, In the swart desert: -there's a tawny band, A curved and tangled pathway of loose sand, WAinding above him;-the tranced airs make dimn His slumberous senses! - his great brown eyes swim In th' mist of dreams, when gliding with mute tread Forth from the thorn-trees, o'er his nodding head, Moves a lithe-bodied panther;-(God! how fair The beast is, with her moony-spotted hair, more! And you'll behold the spouting of fresh gore, Heart blood that's human!- can aught save him now?Hist! the sharp crackle of a blasted bough, Whience flies a huge hill-eagle, rustling O'er the boy's forehead his vast breadths of wing, And sweeping as a lhalf-seen slhade, 'twould seem, Betwixt his startled spirit, and its (dr-eami; He's roused(l! espies his danger at a bound Leaps into safety where the low-set ground Is buttressed'neath two giant crags thereby (Now hark ye!'tis no pictured phantasy, This scene, my Anslemi! but all's true and clear Before me, though full many a weary year Has waxed and waned since then): pMy meaning pritliee? foolish youth, be ware! There's treachery lurking in the gay parterre, As in the hoary desert's silentness, .And dreams with danger, death per chance behind, May lull young sleepers in the perfuimed wind, Which hardly lifts the tiniest truant tress It toys with coyly, of a woman's ]fair: Our sternest fates have risen in forms as fair, As- let us say for lack of similes, - As, hers, who bends now with such gracious ease, O'er her rich tulip-beds! Were I the bird, Wert thou the shepherd Anslem of my tale, 151 And her deft desert paces!) - one bi-eatli Wvhere, couchedl in the deptlhs of tlle shadowy leaves, The wood-dove mlakes her ioain. tI'Vr~IN('E! I vet may pierice the rin(d AWherew-ithl are shrewdly girde(l round( hl'ie subl)tle secrets of his mind: Ic dark, uwih-lolesot ire c ore is eboulid l'erchllance w ithlini it! Sit', you see, MNlein are not w-hat they secei to be! My homiie is a castle ancieint and wor i. WVitli hoaiy walls, and wAith crumbling floor-s, And the buriglar-wvinds their entrance folr(c(e tThllrough the cobwel)bed 1)anes and dloors. I can harl(ly say that a roof is imiine, For wlihene'er the miountain telllpests rise, A deluge is poured thlrouglh its countless rents, AVide open to air an(d shies! caid(lid iniien and plausible tonlgue! A l)earing calhnly frank and fair, 'The teal' ('tw-ould seem) by pity wrlng, kll these are his, but still, beware! somiething strange, false, unbegot ()f virtue, -whispers, trust him not: ]3tut yesterday, his niask (I know lIe wn-ears one). for a moment's space, 1By chalnce dropped off and swift below The smile just w-aning on his face, I caught a look, flashed sudden, keen .ks lightning, which lie deemed unseen. Al! Nature alone keeps a -wholesoiiie mien, In the imiidst of a s(qualor wildly bare, hAnd I draw sonietinmes front her boutte ous breast Brief balhns for the heart's despair; I All hiii..n. friends that were loyal have died, And the false and treacherous ()ily s tay, To poison the soul with their serpent tongues In imy fortune's dull decay*! I will not pause to tell thee whiat 'T'liat look betrayed! enoughl I think, 'I'o smite the spirit cold and hlot, 1By turns, and mi-ake one inly shrink Froiil contact with a soul that keeps Suich wild-fire smoulderin; in its deeps: 'So friend, be walrned! hlie is not one Tlhy youtlh should trust, for all his sliiles, Frank forehlead(s, genial as the sun, May hide a thlousand treacherous wiles, And tones, like ltusic's lhoneyed flow, -Mlay work (God knows!) the b)itterest woe! "C "". ", - ., -,..". - I 0 ']'HE I I)istaiit an(] (iiiii iii the perishing past Grow the joys that niade its springtiin(.sweet, And the last of the saving aiigels - :Llope - SONNL'i. lo3 Hatli spurined my lot with her shiningd feet; Ambition is dead, and if love survives, Her lip, it is pale, and her eyes forlorn As beams of the wn-aning stars that miielt In a clouded w-inter's morn. t have met my fate as a imian should meet WhViat cannot be vanquished, nor put aside, I have striveni with spirit and force to steim kts rushing and mighty tide; But the godlike nerve, and the iron will, They were not granted to me, I say, And therefore a w-aif on aln angry sea, I alm drifting, drifting awxvay! To bless and love, as an immiiiortal gain e thing (livine, of fair imimacutlate wor-tlh: - Thlle clearest, cleanest niature givenl to Iilaii In thlese, our latter days, iiethiniks was hiis, Witli instiets whicl alone didi bring himii bl)iss; AIll life hle viewed( as one long, lutinous planl AVlierein (;od's love and wisdom meet and kis s,His sole brave cree(d, the reecl Saiari tan! HE, whlo w-ithl ferivent toil ali(l will aus tere, tis initate forces and high faculties Develops ever, w-ith firim aiiim, and wise, He oiily keeps his spiritulalvision clear; To lhill eartlh's treacherious shadows shift and veer Lfike idle mIists o'ercrowding windless skies, Where through ofttimes to purged and prayerful eyes, The steadfast heavens seem beckoning calni and near: Still o'er life's rigge(i heights, with many a slip, And painful pause hle journeys, and sadl fall. Towardl d(leath's dark strand, washed by a imystic sea; There her worn cable strailling to be free, He sees, and enters Faith's majestic ship, To sail- chete'ei thle roice of God may ecall! -y! drifting, and drifting, anid (Iriftiiing away, Not a lianid upraised, nor a cry for aid; inid hoarser the voice of the storimi-wind swells, And~ dlarker the wild nighlt-slhade' There are breakers ahead that will ( l rush Ile soon, Hlow itichli, O God! do thy creatures bea r! I miiar-vel if somnewhliere, ini heaveni or hell, This riddle of life grows clear! "Leigh Hunit loves ever~ything; he catches the sntiyv side of everything, and-except a few- polemical antipathlies - finds everythliing beautiful." -HEN —RY ClRt-BB ROBIN-SO-N. 1)E~l~lTE misfortune, poverty, the dearth Of simplest justice to his heart and brain. This gracious optimist lived not in vain; Rather. hle made a partial Heaven of Earth; For whatsoe' er of pure and cordial birth In body or soul dawned on him, he was THAT fair young land whi ch ave me birth is dead! Lost as a fallen star that quivering dies Down the pale pathway of autumnal skies, 8 0 AIIV, E I'S - 1 -03 SOL'I,-'.I)VAN('ES. 0 S O-,NYE Y'S. 1,EIGH H.-T. faiii LEGENDS AND LYIICS. A vague faint radiance flickering whlere it fled; All she hath wrolught, all she lIathli planned or said, Her golden eloquence, her high eimprise Wrecked, on the languid slhore of Lethe lies, While cold Oblivion veils her piteotis head: * 0 mnotiher! loved and loveliest! d(lebonair As some brave queen of antique cliiv aliies. Tli- beauty's blasted like tliv desolate coasts:Wh'llere liow- tlhy lustirous form, tlhy shli ilg hlair? tlhere tlhy bright )preselice, thinie iimpe rial eves? Lost ill dliii shadows of the realml of Ghosts!' Lo! a pure inipulse breathes, the sill clohids, part, The g,rief-(defileimieiits imielt ini hopes that bl)ess, Andi( potie' (,od's qutickeninig sunlshinie on the heart! Thy influence, soul of all tranquillity, Hallows the earth and awes the reverent air; Yon lauglling rivulet (luells its silvery tune. The pines, like priestly watchers tall and Stand issute, against the pensive twi light dilIl, Breathless to hail the advent of tlie imoon; From the white beach the ocean falls away Coyly, and with a thrill; the sea-birds dlar t Ghostlike fromt out the distance, an( depart IN yoidler griui, funereal forest lies A foul lagoon, o'erfiliued by dust antd slimiie, Hidden and ghlastly, like a thought of crime In some stern soul kept secret flroill men's eyes: But if perchance a healthful breeze should rise, And part those stifling boughls, sweet morning' s prime, And the fair flush of evening's cordial clim e, Reflect tlherein the calnly glorious skies: Thus, over their genius and perforimances, as over their native State,- the Carolina of old, -oblivion, day by day, is rnore darkly gathering. If elements of a new political birth exist in that unfortunate section, they are now, hopelessly confused and chaotic! While the Past recedes, becoming momently miore ghostly and phantasmal, the Future is wrapped in thick clouds and darkness! Where, indeed, is the prol)het or son of a prophet who can predict the nature of that new polity destined to rise from the old institutions and the defunct civilization? * This may be esteemiied an exaggeratioi,: but really it is the sober and mielancholy truth. The famne of the great statesmen and orators, for example, who once flourished in South Carolina, and iuade her taime illustrious froiim i one end of the Union to the other, is fast becomling a miere shadowy tradition. With a single exceptions, their works have never bee n collected for publication, nor have their lives been written, unless in the most fragmelita,ry and imperfect fashion. The period during which these things might have been rightly done has forever passed. 154 Is't so with iiiaii? holds not the dark eile,d breast, Turbid, corrupt, overgrown by worldli ness, One little spot wliereon love's smile inay rest? OI)E 7'0 5LEEI'. Bll,'YONI) tlle siiiiset, and the aiiiber sea To the loiie deptlis of Etliei-, cold aii(i bare, SO-N —NET. ODE TO SLEEP. Feebly, and with a languid longing, turns To the spring breezes gathering from the South, So, feebly, and wvith languid longing, I Turn to thy wished Nepenthe, and im plore The golden dimness, the purpureal gloom Which haunt thy poppie(l realmn, and imake the slhore( Of thy dominion balny with all bloonm: In the cleart gulfs of thy serene profoiund, Worn passions sink to quiet, sorrows pause, Suddenly fainting to still-breathed rest; Thou own'st a magical atmosphere, which awes The memories seething in the turbulent breast; Which imuffling up the sharpness of all sound Of miortal lamentation, - solely bears The silvery minor toning of our woe, All mellowed to harmonious under flow, Soft as the sad farewells of dying year s, - Lulling as suiiset showers that veil the w est, And sweet as LIove's last tears orlWhen overwelling hearts d(o nmutely weep: 0 griefs! 0 wailiings! your tempestuous lna(hless, llMerged in a regal quietude of sa(ldness, AVins a stranige glory by the streams of sleep! Then woo me here anidi those flowery cliarmns, Breathe on my eyelids, press thy odor ous lips, Close to mine own, -enfold me in thine as'his, And cloud my spirit with thy sweet eclipse; And while from waning depth to depth I fall~ With a gray fleetness, moaninig tlhe dead davn 'rlle wings of Silence o-erfolding space, I)roop with dusk grandeur fromi the heavenly steep, .And through the stillness gleamiis thy stalry face, Serenest Angel -Sleep! ('olne wA-oo me here, amid these flowery cllarIillS, Brieatlhe on mv eyelids; press thy odor ous lips ('lose to mine own, enwreathe me in tlhine armis, AYnd cloud my spirit with thy sweet eclipse; No dreams! no dreaims! keep )back the motley thlrong,For such are girded round ithli ghlastly imlight, And sing low- burdens of despondent SOnig, I)ecked in the inockery of a lost de,lght: I ask oblivion's balsami! the miute peace Tonied to still breathings, and the gen tlest sighls, Not music w-oven of rarest harmonies ('oul(l -ield mie such elysium of release: The tones of earth are weariness,- not only Mlid the loudl mart, and in the walks of trade. But w-here the mountain Genius broodethli lonely. In the cool pulsing of the sylvan shade; Then. b)ear mIe far into thy noiseless land, Sllround me with thy silence, deep on deep, IUntil serene I stand ('lose by a duskier cotuntry, and more grand, Mysterious solitude, than thine, O Sleep! As he -whlose veins a feverous frenzy bllrns, Whose life-blood withers in the fiery drought, 155 LEGEND)S AN]) LY'UICS. DownN lapsing to the utmost d(leptlis of all, T ill -an forgetfulness obscurely steal inig. ('reepls like an inicalitatiol on the souil, And( o'eIr the slow- elb of myi- conscious life Dies the thin flusll of the last, conscious feeling.' And like abortive thunder, the (duill roll ()f suilleii passions ebbs far, far awNay,) Aingel' loose tile cihord(s wh-icih cling e to strife. ,-ever the gossamer b)oniildage of myix )I'eatlti. A11(I let miie pass genitl- as WN-ill(ls ill F r howi the sdimii oeal lli(tl olIS thi slha(lo- sa-. To tlhv- (livinier sleol. () sa(.:re (leati t'. OuiR liope,s iii youthiti arc like those rose ate slia(Iowss Cast by the sunligiht onl the dewy- glass Whlieii first the fair inorin opes lher sap plire eyes; ''lThey s(ceia,igtaitic aiinl yet graceful slhades? Touchled w-itli brighlt color. As our slli of life Rises towi-ar~ds miieridliani, less aii(i less G(rowi the )ln'ight tieiimulouis sIla(dows, till at last, IIl tlle hlot (list Hi(l uooiti(le of our day, uTllet- glieInniteI to )blanik iliothingiess. 1Tlrt, gI rali( (wlihliacteric passed, tlhe slha(l ows gleamii Bright still, l)e(iiliaice (if olur past: (lee(ds 1)e pur),1 - BXsir/h/l.~lill. h)tt all s receJ's,d,! ]~,I.~tetcttr,Z tll(,\ oI)it, .0,engtlieliiig ai(i l(gthll(miilg ev'1' toward@l thle (da-wi; For llo0)es lso o \ ve tlihe giowii nilmniiories, it-lios e stran ige life I)eee(nIs'tll(l (I(depenis as t'l(e sininset (li(eS. (}I To bew I/v thie( sea. tlim s(ea' Allile a I)'ave lor'wester's llowilg, AW'itll a swirl o01 tlle lee. ( )f cloi(il-foami fiee. Ani(l a spriig-tid(e e ely ly flo-ing! Aitli the low inooii ired aiil lairge, ()'er the flushel liozou's miarge,o Aniil a little pink li)al( iin minie. Oi( tilil saids in tihe long nioollsiill(! l'['loth iicidm'iits *f the f(ollo(wt in sthill g (e t ldill ill "'e le collectiols of ((iffrly ] mly1,"' b), ]te'yl ilngsley.] {)' to t)e 13v the sea. tlhe sea! WN-itli tile wN-ilid full w est: aial yili, AWithi a single start ()'er tlse mllisty bar. Andi( the dimi waves drealnilv siglilig! ()! to b)e tlhere. but thiere! Witli uiv sweet love uestling ca near-! -Near. neair. till leir lheart-tlhr-obs bile w-itlh mine. Tlhrougih telm balimyv hiusli of the iniglit's decline. Oi s t he gl imnmering beaci, in the soft star-shiine! "A iiolj,s, aiiimoigst telu tliolsaii(! on the verge, mThle ixtieicmst verge of e((flilule life 11e stand(is; (-tet iark lhis action. as those w\il( yoiiiig (ol ts Feei'i'e((l froni the stock-yar(l gallol)p whiii Te ythig up; See hlow lhe tr-ots towards tlheii, -nose in tai r, 'T'ail alind, and his still silnewNy legs oltt-tlllhowll 1.56 IIOI'E, AN'l) 0 ,o,N-(;. ik,,r f.,V 1, I A '. i WIDDERIN'S RA CE. The convict hordes from near Van Die men, freed By force or fraud, swept, like a blood red fire, Inland from beach to mnountain, bent on raid And rapine; fiends o' thl' lowest pit, they spared Nor sex, nor age, nor infancy; the vul ture Followed thlleir track, and a black smoke like lhell's 1lung its foul reek above each hoime accursed, Sacked by thleir greed, or ravislhed by their lust. Their crimies were monstrous, weird' unutterable, -Not to be hinted, save in awe-struck whispers Dropped by dark heartlstones, far from inaidenis' ears, In the blank silent midniglht! all the land Uprose to seek, confront and decimate These devils spawned of Tophlet; but tlleir bands At the first bruit of battle, the first clang Of sabres girding lhonest loins, and champ Of lhorse-bits lheld by iimaiily hands that burned To sicite tlhemi, hip and(l thligh, - fled, disappeared, And crouched in hi(ling, wheresoe'er the earth, By wave and hill-side, forest, and bl)eak tarn. Vouchsafed to shield them; as the time rolled on, Out fears grew lighlter, and( all dread was quelled, When on a morning,'mid the outmost reefs Of rouglh Cape Bolling, our chief lherds man found The carcass of a huge boat overturned, All stoven, and(l firmly wedged between the jaws In gallant grace before him! A brave beast As ever spurned the moorland, ay, and Imore, I e bore me once, —such words but smite the truth, T' the outer ring, while vivid memory wakes, f-ecalling now. the passion and the pail. - THe bore me once from earthly lhell to heaven' The sighlt of fine ol Widderin (that's his name, Caught from a peak, the topmost rugged peak Of tall Mount AVidderin, towering to the -Xorth Most like a steed('s head, withl full nos trils blown-i, And ears pricked up), - the siglit of AVidderini brings That day of dlays before Ime, whose strainge hours Of fear and anguish, ere the sunset, changed To hours of such content and ftull-veined joy, As Iheaven can give our mortal lives but oIIce. 'Vell, lere's the story: While yon bush fires sweep The distant ranges, and the river's voice I'ipes a thin treble through the heart of drought, While the red heaven like some huge caldron' s top .Seems with the hleat a-simnering, better far In place of riding tilt'gainst such a sun, Tliere in the safe veianda's flowery gloonm, To play the dw-arfish Homier to a song, Whereof myself am lero: " Two decades Have passed since that wild autumn-time when last 157 LEGENDS AND LYRICS O(f imonster rocks, w-liereby three bodies lay, pl)lashiing and gurgling in the refient tides, WAell known as corses of three desperate lIen, The outlaws' leaders; thereupon'twas deemed, - And all nmust own with fairest likelihood, That glutted l)y their vengeance, or spurred on By lhopes of rapine, beckoning other where, — ha Thle whole foul crew embarking, had T l)een seized J))y wind and wave, God's executioners, Tle pitiless dooimsmeii of the wrathl of ttea-eni, - ind so. crushed out of leinig, and made less Tliii thl- vile seaweed dabbling in the sturf. Tlheinceforthl. our caution cooled; save here and there. At critical mountain-passes, or lone ca-ves, Aud slleltere(l inlets of the Mill soutlh A-est. No sentinels watchled; and whlerefore should they watch? The storlm had threatenetd, hroken and w-as passed! "S(). in late auLtuiiin, —'twas a mar vellous morn, AWith l )reezes from the calmn snow-river borne Thlat touched the air, and stirredl it into tlhrills, My\sterious and mesmeric, a bright mist IlaI)pilg the landscape like a golden trance. SNwatliing the hilltops with fantastic veils, And o er the mnoorland-ocean quivering light As gossamer threads drawn down the forest aisles I, with four (omdtk a (lesi ia l this self-same spot. WVatched t he fa i i scen e, and dlrallk the spicy aics, That held a sI l)tleh spi rit tlali our' wine, An d talked alld laughed alnd iiiiisedl in idleness, Wlearvig -vaglul( faj(ies, as our pipe svreathl s p t le ~l Fantastic, in tlhe sunl ight! 1, w ith head Thrown back, a nd cshll llio01e(d snutngly, and wfitl eyes Intent on onl e grotes(atei aend cui riouis clola l, We Puffed upward, that io\w seenoed to take tle shape Of a I)utcl tulip, now a'Tiurk's face topped By folds on folds of turl)ball lillitl(ss.Heard suddenly, just as tlhe (,lock chlimiied one, To miielt in musical e(cloes iip) tlie lfills, Quick footsteps on tli(, gravelle( p)ath w itlhout, - Steps of the couliers of calaiiity,So imiy heart told ime, eire - itll blanch e(l regards. Two stalwart herdsmen on our t lir(sli old paused, Panting, with lips that w-ritlhe(l. aud awful eyes; A!)reatlh's space in each other's eyes wi-e glared, Then, swift as interclhange of liglintg thrusts In deadly combat, question. and reply Claslhed sharply,' What! the Ranger-s " 'Ay, by tleavenl! And loosed in force. -- the lie]l-lhoi(is!' 'AVhitlheri, bound' I stammiiiiere(l, hoarsely.' loral(t,' tie elder said, 'Soutlhward!-foi ir stations land they sacked and burniit, Aniid nlow drunk, furious' but I stopped to lhear I I-) At deiN-- dain-iiiiig, - oli this iiiai-velloits .. Tlinlkinig p(r(clmice it was a gloiriois tliligr. So dressed. so l)()oted, so capalrisolled, To ride si(u l),'iglit bl)ood-couirse(is illto (leatll! Two siui-l)lackel niiatives, sliul)ieii g ill the griass. J.lLst rose 1 etinles to'scap)e the tranfiin)liig hloofs, Anid IIIII-le(I liot cl'ises at 1i1e as I se)(d(' AVllile lie and tlleie, tll, tillli(l k]-anga )luhndere(l atllwart thle iole-llills, all ill puiffs,. ()f steamy dust-cloud(I v\aniislhe(l like a imote! ()lli\\ai(l, still o01 \nard(, onward, olwal still! And lo! tlhank I leaveli, the liglhty ()r gain Iiill, Tliat seemned( a d(iII 1i)e (1IIodIlet at tie Ilaiigs ill a(;iial, fllte(1 liffs aloft.. AoII(I still as tIllioiiglI tl(( Iong, low gla(is I)oI-ile, 3Beeli("atl1 the gorge biorel( evel it wil( speed, I saw thle iiiateless ill(lolltaill eagle wei((el BJeyond( the stark heiglht's tol)iiiost, pii iiacle; I hiea-(dl his slhriek of irage and(I r-avin (lie )eepl) down the (desolate (ldells, as fai b)e 1: left the gorge anid(I far 1)efor-e lie swel)t A\notlier plailn, tre(e-bordeled now, and )oy tll ( lear river g glig oer its bed. 13-tli(' (-Ieai- i-ii,'( — giii-lgliilg 07('l' its b~ed. Lov-( lia(l n wiliged ( y will i For to the southward. fail (Garooljia lield My all of hole. life, passion; shle \\-liose lhaiir kIts tiniest strand of wavilNg ii itcl-ligkg gold) Tiad eauilhlt my lea t elltw ie. a )oui htd it fast. ~s_'t'-ere soline sw-eet, eli(lialitllielt's lieavenl- ll(et' ' I only gave a liaii(l-wa\e iii farewell, shllot )by, and o'er tli ( lless ilooirlalid( swepit at (Endless it seeiiied(l. as thlose weid. mleasuireless plains,. Wlichl il soilie ngligtiaaie visionl. st(retcht and stretch Towards infinity!) like somie lone shiip) O)er wastes of sailless w-aters; iinow-, a pine, 'lThe l)eacon pi14e gigantic, wlhose grilliI crow-n .sigiials the far land-imarinier froilii ouit ;tautnt )bouLlders of the,igray-)acked( Orgaii hill, loose on myv sight, a inistlike. Nwaveriliniig orb, a I'le while, still onwvard, onward. oil w\Aard still, \Vitli motion w\iliged, elastic, equalfle. lirave Widderin cleaved the air tides. tosse d aside Tie winds as waves their swvift, inivisible?, breasts. LEGEVDS -XVD L1,1]JICS. " At last caine forest shadows, and the steed HIlad thrown- his small head backward, and his breath Through the red nostrils burst in labored sighls; I bent above his outstretched neck, I thr ew M-y quivering arms about him, murmur ilig low, (;ood horse! brave heart! a little longer bear The strain, the travail; and thenceforth for thee Free pastures all thy days, till death shlall come I Ah. many and many a time, my noble bay. Ile) lily lhani-d hatlh wandered through thy mane, Patted thy rainbow neck, and brought Fl thee ears Of daiiitiest corn from out the farim house loft,Help, help, to save her now I' " I'll Iow the brute Ifeard me and comprehended w,hat he heard! Ile slhook lfis proud crest madly, and his eve Triiined for a moment sideways, flashed in mine A liglhtninig gleam, whliose fiery language said.s fI knIiow- my)- liniea,e, will not shlame my sire. .v y sire(. who rushed triumphant'twixt the flags., .-in(l frenzied thousands, when on Epsom dow-ns Arcturus won the Derby!- no, nor shalne MNfy graiiddaii-1, whose clean bodvy, half enwrought Of air, half fire, tlirough swirls of d(lesert sand BIore Shii(;k A-:b(lallahi headlong oni his pre'"'j- road Winding through bush and bracken, and at last The hoarse stream rumbling o'er its quartz-sown crags. "No, no! stanch Widderin! pause not now to drink; An hour hlence, and thy dainty nose shall dip In richest wine, poured jubilantly foritl To quench thy thlirst, my beauty! but press on, -Nor hleed( these sparkling waters. ( o(l! my brain's On fire once more! an instant tells me all: All! - life or death, - salvation or (le spaiir! - For yonder, o'er the wild grass-imatted slope The house stands, or it stood but ye(ster day. "A Titan cry of inarticulate joy I raised, as calm and peaceful in the sun, Slionie the fair cottage, and the gad(len close, AVsherein, white-robed, unconscious, sat my Love uLilting a low song to the birds and( flow ers. She heard the hoof-strokes, saw me, started up, Anld with her blue eyes wider than thleir w ont, tnd rosy lips half tremnulous, ruslhed(l to lneet .in l gr, eet ne swiftly.; Up, (ea- lxove!' I cried, ' The Convicts, the 13ishl-Ilanlge(rs!-let us fly!' leAh, then and there you shoul(l have seen her, fr iend, 31y noble beauteous llelen! not a tear, nNori sol), ai(l sca(rce a transient pulse quliv er, Aks, clas)inig lland il hand, her fairy foot 160 '. By this, iiiy pantin,, but unconquered I Il'IDt i)ERl~y'S PIA C(L. 11 Lit like a small bird oiln iy hlorsemanl's WAithl young keeii eyes the broad plain boot, stretcliedl afar, And upp into the salAlle, lithle and,l light, Serene and autumn-tintedl at our feet: Vaulting she perched, her bright ceils'Eitlher,' said 1,'these devils have gone round miy t1ce! East, To meet wi th bloodhound Desborou,igli "WAe crossed the river, and, disinounIt- in his rage ing, led B1etw-een the gralite passes of Luxoiii(e, O'er the steep slope of blended rock and Or else, -dear Christ Iimy Ileleni, low! turf, stool) low!' The wearied horse, and there behind a (These words were hissed( in hlorror, for Tor just then, Of castellated bluestone, paused to'Twixt the deep hollows of the river sweep vale, "No, no! stanch Widderini! pause not now to drink." The miscreants, with iiiix(ed shouts and So loudly that tllh sweat of agony rolled curses, poured Down my cold forehead; at which point Downi through the flinty gorge tumultL- I felt ously, My arm clutched, and a voice I did not Seeiingi-, we thoughlt, in oui fierce know, throng to charge Dropped the low murmur from pale, Our hiding-place.) I seized:ny Widder- slihtddering lips, in's head,' 0 God! if in those brutal hands I Blindfolding him, for with a single neighl fall, Our fate were sealed o' thi' instant! As Li?,igly, look not into your mother's face they rode, Or (tizy woman's more!' Those wild, foul-languaged demions, by our lair, "What time had passed Scarce twelve yards off, my troubled lAbove our bowed heads, we pent, pin steed shook wide ioned there llis streaming mane, stamped on the By awe and nameless horror, who shall earth, and pawed tell? flolll olut Thise iieigtl)orinig oak-wood, rode our friendls at speed, AWitli (lanig of steel and eyebrows benit in w-ratlh. But w-arned betimes, the wilv ruffians fle(d Far tip the forest-coverts, and beyond The dazzlin-ig sniowi —linle of the distant hills, Their yells of fielndish lauglter pealiing faint, And fainter froin the clou(dlail(l, and the mist slrouid: Yet -were these wretches mnarked for immiiiinent death: The next keen sIIIrise p)ierced( the savaoe gorge, To whichl we tracked them, wire.ble mily ere be asts at bay, Grimlyii they fought, and brute b)y l,'utt( tlhey fell." ('oie,lle sweev(tlheait! open your choicest )ill, cFor who, I w-oIll(l tmarvel, could d(leemi it sill. Ol tlbis iiglit of keeii October, To (Illaff o(ll healtlh to his ruddy cheer, On the 0ol(l1(h e(lge of the waning year., It o his (eye(s so l)'iglit, atl(d his cheeks so ()t' 1))lutIff " Kinig [al," -Octol)er? AcAw,-ay wiitll lilleIiis and light chaiii pagnie! 'Tis niot iii these we must pledge the r eignl ()f tlhe, stout old lo-(I,-October; imlut ill milihty stoops of the " mountain (l(2w,'" AWitlh beadls" like tears in an eye of 1)lt~te, m Be st tears of a laughter, sound( and true, .ks thine holnest heart, October! t' l)rouglit me love and lie broughit ime health, HTe )brought me (ill but the curse of wealth, This kindly and free October; Andl forever and( aye I will bless his nlamle, AVWhile his winds blow fleshI, and his sunsets flaiie. And thie whole earth burns with his crinms on t fane, This prince of the months,.-October! OC7'OBEll. AFAR from the city, its cark and care,Thank God! I am cosily seated here, On this nighlt of hale October, - AWhile the flames leap high on the roar illn hearth, And voices, the dearest to me on earth, mRt ing out in the music of household m-iirth, For the time is blithe October! Nevives, froimi whose swveet founts of trulth An(l joy, I drink muy fill: I feel your every heart-throb, know Wh7lat innlost hlopes withlin youl glow, Onle soIIl's betw0eenl ns, WiTll! I glance at it. tlen tlrni to you, Where ill yoitir healthful ease you stand, No beauty,- but a youth as true, And pure as any in the land! For Nature, througli fair sylvan ways, Hlath led and gladdned all youre days, Kept free froml sordlid ill; Hath filled your veins with blissful fire, 1(d winged your inistiitcts to aspire Sunward. and Godwaril, (W ill! Pray tIeavenl thlat thlis he always so! Th'lat ev er on yourL soull and mine Thlough- mly thlin loclks g~rowv wh~ite as SllOW, e f d'Il self-saine radiant trust may shine; Pray tlyot whsile thisll cy life, endures, It aye m~ay sympllathlize wXxithl youlrs hil titou~ght, aiml,,Ictioll still; Thlat youl, O soll (till conmls thle endl), In ince mlay find~ yore' comrladle, friendl, Andl mIoJ'e thlan fathler, W~ill! Loug-liubed aud lusty, with a stride Thlat leaves ie many a p)ace behind, You roaiii the woodlauds, far and wide, -e You (luaff great draughts of counltry Whliih? tree aud willflower, lake andll St l'ealli?z D)eep shadowy inook, and sumslhot gleam i ('ool vale and far-off hill, Eacl plays its iiiiite mysterious part, Ini that stranige growth of mind aiidl heart I joy to w itnless, W-ill! HEIIE the warm sunshine fills ILike wine of g~ods the dleepenling, cupl shlaped dlells, EmblIossed +with mlarvellous flowers; the~ happy r ills Roamn through the autumnal fields whose rich increase Of gathered grain sniles under heaveins of peace; Wh lile mlanly aI blird-sonlgt swe~lls; Firomt,lades of neiigliboiring woodlands, a(ool andIe fai ar C8ontenlt and1)lleae' ar'e her}e. " ('anl thi3 tall you~th," L somletimes say, "Be mine? miy soii? " it surely se ei iis Scarce furthler backw^ard thanl a day, Since watching o'er your feverish dIreamls In that child-illness of the brain, I thought (0 Christ, with wbat kee n pain!) I I [ inl thlat smlal l 1)or trait, W\ill? _ F tElIil:E,4 N'D 7'ttE vliE. * * 5Vrittenl dutring the) wa-r betw een Francee andle G-1erlanlY. L LEGVD)S AN]D LIIYRICS. There the wild battle's wrath Thunders from castled height to storied plain, Ploughs with red lightnling-bolts its terri ble patlh, And sows the abhorrent seeds of blood and death, Blowin far on Desolation's tamneless breath, While for autumnal grain Time reaps the harvest of a bleak de spair, - God's curse consumes them there. Shakes his b eard of hoary gold, Like a tangled torrent rolled D)own the sky-rifts, clear and cold! Hark! his trumpet suimnons rings, Potent as a warrior-king's; Till the forces of our blood Rise to lusty hardlihood, And our snummer's languid dreams Wuelt, like foamn-wreathls, dowil the steircans, W,,hen the fierce northeasters roll, Raving fromi the fr-ozeni pole. IHere jovial children play Beneath the latest vine-leaves; innocent kings, And blissful queens, - on them the ma tron Day, Like a sweet mother drops her kisses light; The very clouds some secret joy makes bright, And round us clings and clings, With Ariel arms, the season's influence rare, - Heaveii's heart beats near us here. Nobler hopes and keener life, Quicken in his breath of strife; Through the snow-storms anil the sleet On he stalks wvith armed feet. While the sounding clash of hail Clanging on hi s icy nail, Stirs whate'er of generous might Timiie hath left us in his flight, And our yearning pulses thrill For some grand aclhievement still! Lord of ice-bound sea and land], Let me grasp thy kingly hand, And from thy great heart and bold, Hecla-warmii, though all is cold Round about thee, catch the fire Of my lost youth's brave desire; Let me, in the war with wrong, Like thy storns, be swift and strong, Gloomy griefs, and coward cares Broods of'wildering, dark despairs, M/aking all life's glory diim, Let me rend them, limb from limb, As the forest-bougls are rent W~hen thou wak'st the firmament, And with savage shriek and groan, All the wildwood's overthrown! There love bemoans its lost, Countless as seaside sands; all joys of life Rest locked and stirless in the blood-red frost; Ye drumns, roll out, shrill clarions, peal your parts! Ye cannot drown the wail of broken I hearts, Nor still that spiritual strife Which thrills through Victory's voice its de ath-notes drear, Dear Christ, sootlhe, save them ther-e. tfELCOME TO tI%LVTER. -Now, with wild and windy roar, Stalwart Winter comes once more,O'er our eoof-tree thunders loud, And from edges of black cloud LIKE streamlets to a silent sea, These songs with varied motion Flow from bright fancy's uplands free, To Lethe's clouded ocean; I i 164 0 TO MY MOTHEL?. SON-XLE ]'S. Thley lapse in deepening ilmusic doon-ii TlThe slopes of flo-wer-lit mleadow-s, Nor dreami, poor solgs! hlow near thlenm frown i Oblivion's rayless shadows! Yet though of brief anld dubious life, -All w-ed to incompleteness,1lie voices of these lays are rife W'-itlh frail andc fleeting sweetness; ()ne chlord to make more full the strain, One note I mtay n rot slimothler, Is echoed in the lheart's refrain W1-hiich holds thy name, imy mother! TIIE maiden Spring camne laughing down the dales, Iler fair brows archlled, and on her rose bud mouth, The balm and beauty of the lustrous Soutlh; ThllroughL soft green fields, from hills to happy vales, She tripped, her small feet twinkling in the sun, Her delicate finger raised with girlish mirtlh, Pointed at graybeard WAVinter, who, in dearth, Toiled toward his couch, his long day labor done; Ah no, not done! for hark! a sudden wind, Death-laden, sweeps from realms of arc tic sky, And blurred with storm, the morn grows crazed and blind; Then Winter, mocking, backward turns apace, Where pallid Spring all vainly strives to fly, And with brute bulffet scars her shrink ing face! lo thee imy earliest verse I brought, All wreathled in loves and roses, .Somne glowN-ing boyish fancy, fraughlt WAith tender May —wind closes; Tho clid'st not taunt my fledgling song, Nor view its flight with scorning:m The bird," tlol saidst, "growni fleet and strong,, Mig-ht yet outsoar the imiorningi!" Ah me! between that hour- ancl this, Eternities seem flow-wing; O'er hapless gra-es of youitlh aid(I bliss Dark cypress boughs are grow-ing; Our Fate lhatlh diiiiunied with base alloy The rich, pur'e gold of pleasure, ToAd changeds th e choral cln ant of joy To care's'heart-broken measure! Btut through it all, - the blight, the pall, The stress of thunderous weather, That God who keeps wild chance in thrall Ilath linked our lots together; So. hand in hand, we sail the gloom, Faith's mystic plummet casting To solnd the ways which end in blooin Of Edens everlasting! I CAST this sorrow from me like a crown Of bitter nettles, and unwholesome weeds, Nursed by cold night-dews, from malig nant seeds, Ill Fortune sowed, when all the heaven di d frown; Its loathsome round I trample deeply down I bless thee, Dear, with reverent thought! Pale face, and tresses hoary, Whose everly siley th read hath caught Some hint of heavenly gloIy; — 165 To tliee, witli trust assured, sublime, I)e,a,tli's an(,el-call that waitest, To tliee, as oiice ii-iy earliest rllyiiie, Lo! iioNN-, I bi-iiig - my latest! , OVVE 7,5. ILI,EGITI.NIATE. SON-NET. LEGENVIDS AND 1,I'CU. In mire and dust, to burn my brain no more; From off my brow I wipe the trickling gore, While all about me, like keen clarions blowns, From breezy dells, and golden heights afar, Their stern Xeveille the wild MIarchli winds sound; They wake an answnering passionll in my soul, Whence, marshalled as brave warriors, taking ground For noblest conflict, freed front doubt or dole, Great thoughts uprising front Hope's morning star! LOVE scorns degrees! the low he liftetl, high, The high he draw etli down to that fail plain Whereon, inll his divine equality, Two loving hearts may meet, nor meet in vaini; 'Gainst such sweet levelling Custonl cries amaln, But o'er its harshest utterance one bland siglh, Breathed passioni-wise, doth mount vic torious still, For Love, earth's lord, must have his lordly will. VERNAL PICTURE S ( WVITHOUT AND WITHIX-\). But ah! this sovereign will oft works at last The deadliest bane, as happed erewhile to her, Earll Godolf's daug,hIter, imany a centuryX past: AlMID fresh roses wandering, and the soft And delicate wealth of apple-blossoms spread In tender spirals of blent white and red, Round the fair spaces of our blooming croft, This morn I caught the gurgling note, so oft Heard in the golden spring-tides that are dead, - The swallow's note, mnurmuring of win ter fled, Dropped silverly from passionless calhs aloft: " O heart! " I said, " thy vernal depths unclose, That mirror Nature's; warm airs, come and go Of whispering ardors o'er thought' s bud ded rose, And half-hid flowers of sweet philoso ph1y; While now upglancing, now borne swift and low, Song like the swallow darts through fan cy's sky." I * The most important feature in the landscape of this poemii the old Chronicler persists in designating as a miountain of "steep" and " terrible " ascent; but that it could not have been a mountain, and, despite certain obstacles which made it dangerous for mien on horseback, it might not even have been a lvery " terrible" hill, is shown by the fact, that amoing the crowd who reached the summit soon after the catastrophe, were " old men," whom the excitement of the time and scene would hardly have sufficed to bear safely up were the Chroilicler's expressions to be literally accepted. To any lm-all loaded as Oswald was, the ascent of a comparatively moderate height woulhl prove a fearful trial; but in his case the atrocious cruelty of the experiment, and the life and death issues involved, became so closely associated in the spectators' minds with the ymaterial scene of the tragedy, that the latter was not unnaturally beheld through the magnifying medium of pity and terror. TIhus the hill was elevated into a mountain! The old Chronicler celebrates it as such. We follow the old Chronicler —to the death! I I I 166 7'HE MOUV7'-4]X OF THF, LOI'I,'RS.' 1. II. THE MOUNTAIN OF THE LOVERS. She loved her father's low born forester, About whose manful grace did breathe and stir So clear a radiance, by soul-virtues cast, He moved untouched of social blight or ban - Nature's serene, true-hearted gentleman. Whose eve ry deepest copse in moonshine bright Glimmered from hoary trunk to frost tipped bud, On sire and child there burst a cry of blood, Followed by hurrying feet, and the dread sighit Of scores of gray-skinned brutes-a direful pack Of wolves half-starved that yelled along their track. Yet she alone of all the household saw That softy soul beneath his serf's attire; But of the ruthless Earl so great her awe, Close, close she kept her spirit's veiled desire, Nor outward shone one spark of hidden fire. Too well she knew to what stern feudal law She and her hapless Love perforce must yield, If once this tender secret were re vealed. In vain his frantic team Earl Godolf smote, With blended prayer and curse; nigh doom were they, Riders and steeds, for now each ravening throat Yawned like a foul tomb. On the bound ing sleigh The fierce horde gained, when from the silvery-gray, Cold-branched glades outrang a bugle note, With next a bowstring's twang, an arrowy whir, As shaft on shaft the keen-eyed forester Yea even by Oswald's self her covert flame Undreamed of burned; proud stood she, coldly fair, When, to report of woodcraft lore, he came To the Earl's hall, and she was lingering there. ' Cold heart! " thought he; " who'midst her liegemen, dare Play as I played with death a desperate game For her sweet sake? and yet, alas! and yet, Sh e scorns the service and disowns the debt." Launched on the foe, each hurtling shaft a fate. Then Oswald,'twixt pursuers and pursued Leapt, sword in hand, his eyes of fiery hate Fixed on the baffled horde, whose doubt ful mood Changed to quick fear, they scoured adown the wood, Their long gaunt lines, in fiend-ike, vanquished state, Fading with flash of blood-red orbs from far, Till the last vanished like a baleful star! For sooth it was that one keen winter's night, While slowly journeying homeward through a wood 167 Ill. VI. IV. Vil. V. LEG],EVDS AN-D L1 Y-I(S. So gently lapsed, thle uniiailed warrior's Forgot hand. No-w, bv thle mass! abrupt and brief, I w-eell, The rude Earl's thilanks for rescued libubs anii(l life; Bu3tt not so (r- aceless prov-edl the fair Catriiie, As glalucinig backward to the field of strife 5She flashed a smile wvitlI cordial imieaninig rife, AWhiiclh struck otir sylvan hero (who did leain, Pale, oin his bow,) as'twvere the piercing glealn Of somne strange, sudden, half bewilder illg dreaimi. A bride erewlile won by his dauntless ])lade Iii a great sea fight - where his armn had slain Somle lhalf score foemen - wan and half afraid, Hoimew-ard lie brought, whose every deli cate veiii Pulsed the rich blood and tropic warmrth of Spain; sBut when pure wvifehlood crowned the nloble iimaid, Heart-fruits for biiii his beauteous lady bore, Of -whlose straiige sweets lie had not (dreamned before. Alack! the dream waxed not, but seemled to wan-ae, As if a cloudless sun but late arisein, Baack journeuyilig, passed across the etlie real plain, And the fresh d(lawnI it brought, died out in hleaven;g For froiii that eve no subtlest signs were giv en, soh As erst we said, that passion's blissful pain Touched the maid's heart, or that her (lays were caught In those fine meshes woven by love for thought. She strove his natur e's ru,ggedlness to smllootlh, And iln lis bosom dropped a fruitful gelr"Of those mlild virtues given our lives to sootlhe, And change, their gusty solitude to warm Beneficent caliii, - diviniest after storn. Within himii flowered a pallid grace of Nor oft, as once, o'er bleeding breasts he trod Straight to his purpose, blind to law and God. In Britain dwelt Earl Godolf, nigh the bounds Of the Welslh marches; a wild rover lie In his hot voutlh, inured to strlfe and wounds T1IrouIg11 many a foray fierce by land and sea; But, after years of bright tranquillityY ear s linked to love tlrougl pleasure's peaceful bounds And in fair fulness of the ripened time, Still gentler grew his dark, war-furrowe(d mien; He quaffed the sunshine of a fairy climne, Love chliarnie(led, hope gladdened, when, to crown the scen e Of transient bliss, there smiiled a new Catr-ine - i(is Vill. Xi. IX. Xii. X. Xiii. . {.uA.Iq; U.Pilt[) ( )AI' JUtT iii Iij'iTi D(l'ls'[OOI I I OTl,(II[ l,) IIt TTA-, ~ /TTfr''AIT 4 THE MOUNTAIN OF THE LOUERS. The loveliest babe e'er lulled by mother's rhyme - Whose tiny fingers o'er her heart-strings played, Making ineffable music where they strayed. And the sore heart within him writhed and burned With battled hope, and pain that madly yearned, Vainly and madly, for dear love's recall. No light o'ershone grief's ocean drear and black, The while old passions thronged tumnul tuous back. WAoe worthl the end! for though the in fant thrived Slow-ly the hapless mother pined away; Love to the last in pleading eyes sur vived - Those fondi fond eyes dooned to the churchyard clay, ('offiled, and shut from all blithe sights of day; But lChrist! in thee her stainless spirit lived, lWhose memory - a white star - should evermore O'er her lord's pathls have beamned to keep them pure. XVII. So, his last state was worse than e'en his first; IMurder and rapine, pitiless greed, and ire Raged wheresoe'er his raven banner burst, 'Mid shr ieks and wails, and hollow roar of fire, Which lapped the household porch and crackling byre; Ile seemed demoniac in his aims ae curst, Wrath in his soul, and on his brow the sign Of hell- a human scourge by power di vine Natlhless, some souls there are by cruel loss stting. as withl scourge of scorpions, to despair; Tl NNts will not seek the Christ, nor clasp His cross. lItit, groping, vaguely through sulphure oIIs air, Strike hands with Satan, in the miurky g,lare Of furious hlell, whose billows rage and toss AI)ouLt their tortured being, urged to c u r s e That myivstic will which rules the uni verse. XVIII. For some mysterious end permitted still - As many an evil thing our God allows To range the world, and work its dreald fIl wI ill, lWhether in form of cliefs, with laurelled brows, Or spies and traitors in the good man's house; Or, it may be, somie slow, infectious ill, Untraced, and rising lik e a mist defiled With poisonous odors on a lonely wild, Yea, such the Earl's; no cooling dew did fall To heal his wound;'gainst heaven and earth he turned, Girt to his sense with one vast funeral pall; Albeit no marsh is near, or steamy fen. More monstrous year by year Earl Go dolf's d eed s Flared in hell's livery on the eyes of men; All growtlls of transient goodness clieckedl by weeds, 169 XIV. XV. XVI. XIX. ILEUGEA,DS AVD LI,C'1. A\ni d lucidl, languid eyes tle miaid slhe doweiered, And lher einticinig loveliness em-powered aVith clharuis to inielt tile wintriest teii per's cold CharlIs wroughlt of suiliise warmthi, and twilight balni, Passion's dee)p glow, all( pity's saint like calim. bleeds To kinow slie may not meet hler love again-: And even the vales immnlortal seemed le s s swieet, Because too pure for hiis crime-cLimbered feet. xx. But, w-eal or w-oe, thle world rolls blindlv on, Allile nature's charm, in child, and bird, and flow-er, AVorks its rare marvels'neatlh the noon day sun, And the still stars in midnighlt's slum-e berous hour-. And so a human bud, througlh beam and shower-, Glad play, and easeful sleep-the orphaned one, The beauteous babe -a sour old bel danie's care, U'pflovwered at lengthl a miatchlless maid, and fair. xxIII. Tall, litlhe, andl yiellling as a young bay ti-(ee Her perfect foiin; but'neatli its lissom g,ra(ce There lui ked a latent strengtl keenii eyes ('o0114l S(e, bDsrrawn fironi hir fater's un(ldegenerate rac(; The dazzliiig fairness of lher Saxon face, (Contrasted( -itli the (lark eyes' witclieiy, Shone with such liglit as ilortlhern IInoo (lay s ow,oake T1101oug11 t11C clear shadows of a mr,ouin taiii lake. xxIv. Iler full l)lowil flower of beauty lured eire long Unnumberlli ed suitors r ound lher; these declare Boldest relport lhatlh (lone the virgin w r'ong, And past all power of words they deem hier fair; The kingdora's p)riniecliest youtli besiege lhe erLr And lhear-t wiitlh ardent vows anld amor o01s son g; Love, rank and wN ealthl their splendid b)eamiis Coiiille, Slhe the rare orlb about wh-lios,e path they slhinie. Most fair to all but him to whlom shle owed Her life and place in this bewildering world; For lie, a chlanged man since that hlour w-hichll slhow-ed His wife' worn form in earthlly cere inenits furled, Coll scorn hiad laiunched, or captious passion Ihurled At this sole offspring of his lone abl)ode, Till grow-n, alas! too early grave and he ise Slhe viewed lher sire, in turn, witlh love less eyes. XXII. Still in benignant arms did nature fold Her favored chlild, and on her richlly shloweredc All gifts of beauty; withl long lhair of goll 170 Siii-I)red: and, ali! one ai-i,el's bosoiii I XXI. XXV. Still would she Fred -Ni-itli no i( till i-udely pi-ess((I To the last I)otiiidary of her Patience sweet, TIlE MOUNTAIN OF THE LOW,'ERS. No more she struggled in a yearningB breast To hide her passion, liowsoe'er iunmeet For one hligh placed as she; her fervent feet Oft bore her now wlhere woodland flow ers caressed Thle granli( olfI oaks, beneath whose shel terilg l)ouglls The lovelrs musedl, or, whIispering, breathed their vows. By clouds unvisited, by stormi s untorin, Passed, rippling music; like a magic bell Out rung by spirit hands invisible, Each tender hour of meeting, eve or I11lOrn, Above thein, stole in rhythmic sweet ness, blent With rare fruition of supreme content. But in the sunset tidle of one calm d(lay, When, all unconscious at the place of tryst, Beyond their wont they lingered; with dismay They saw, begirt by gold and amethyst, Of that rich time, gigantic in the midst Of slimlnnering splendor, which did flash and play About his formn. and o'er his visage dire, The wratlhful Earl, midmost the sunset fire. But ere to such sweet pass their fates lial led, Or ere her tlhougllt unbosomed utterly, To the rapt y-outlh, in tremulous tones, slhe said, "I lore thee," tlhroughl full many a fine degree Of feeling, toucelhed by sacl uncertainty, That truthl they neared, wlichl, like a bird o'erliead, Still faltering flew-, till borne through sla i h ade and sun, It nestled w-armi in two hlearts m-naple as one! sN,o word lie uttered, but his falchion drew, Red with the slain boar's blood, and pointed grinii Where'gainst the eastern heavens' slow deepeninig hlue Uprose his castle tlurrets, tall and dim. The maid's eyes close; she feels each nerveless limiib Sink nilgh to swooning; but, hleart-brave and true, Clings to her LIove, while fronm pale li.ps a sigh Doth faintly fall, which means " with himai I (lie! " The truth, the fond( conviction that all eartlh W\as less than naulllt -a imote, a van ishling gleamn. MNlatchled wi-ith the glow of that transcen dent birth Of love wlhlich -rapped them in his hap piest dream; Entranced thus, shut in by beam on beam Of glory, is it strange but trivial worth Tlheir dazzled minds in transient doubts should see Which some times crossed their keen fe licitv? Gravely advancing, the Earl's stalwart hanid Rests on her sli(l(ddering shoulder; one quick glaince, ITaughlity and high, rife with severe com amanhd, On the'mnaze(d woodsman doth he dart askance, Their love awlile, like somne smooth l'ivu let borne Through drooping umbrae of a lonely dell, I 171 XXIX. XXVI. XXX. XX'\'Il. XXXI. XXI'lli. -7 LEbD Y JJJ. Came, grandly robed, our Lord's highl seneschal; To all the lieges, with shrill trumpet call, In name of his serene puissant grace Godolf, the Earl; to all folk, bond or free, fWith strident voice he read this foul de cree: from trance, Striving to know on what new ground his stand Thenceforth shall be; or if life's priceless all, Put to the test just then, must rise or fall. XXXII. Fate wrought the issue! for as Oswald waits Biding his time to smite, or else retreat, With the maid's hand his own Earl Godolf mates, And from the wood they pass with foot steps fleet; One tearful, backward look vouchsafed his sweet, Just as the castle gates -those iron gates, Heavy and stern, like Death's -were closed between His burning vision and the lost Catrine. XXXIII. To heaven he raises wild despairing eyes, But heaven responds not; then to earth returns Ilis baffled gaze from ranging the cold skies, And earth but seems a place for burial urns; In sooth, the whole creation mutely spurns His prayer for aid; alas! what kind re plies Can woeful man from fair, dumb Nature draw Locked in the grasp of adamantine Law? - XXX1v. Three mnorns thereafter, in the market place Of the small town, from Godolf's castle wall Distant, it might be, some twelve fur longs' space, XXXV. "Whereas our virgin daughter, bight Catritse, False to her nobl e race and lineage proud, Hath owned her love for one of birth as mean As any hind's who creeps among the crowd Of common serfs, with cowering shoul ders bowedOswald by name —the whom ourselves have seen, When least he deemed us nigh, his traitorous part Press with hot wooing on the maiden's heart: XXXVI. "Let all men know hereby our will it is, To-morrow morn their trial morn must be; Either the serf shall win, and call her his, Or both shall taste such bitter misery As even in dreams the boldest soul would flee; If lips unlicensed thus 11 meet and kiss, Reason it seems that shch unhallowed flame Of love should end in agony and shame. XXXVII. "Therefore, the morrow morn shall view their doomii Accomplished;'mid the ferns of Bolton Down, Where Bolton Height doth catch the purpling bloom I I i-2 LEGE-V,DS ANID L17-RI(I!S. lvho doubtful bides, as one half i-oused i i I i i i i i I THE MO UNTAIN OF THE LOVERS. Of early sunrise on his treeless crown, WVe say to all- knight, burgher, squire and clownJust as the castle's morning bell shall boom O'er the far hills, and brown moor's blossoming, Come, and behold a yet undreamed-of thing. Which, stationed near him at the Earl's desire, Hiis every move o'erlooked, did Oswald stand, Striving his roused anger to command, And lift his clouded aspirations higlher Than thoughts revengeful. Hark! a deepening hum On the crowd's verge - the trial hour has come! XXXVIII. 'For then and there must Oswald bear aloft, By his sole strength, unaided and alone, The blameful maid, whose nature, grown too soft, Durst thus betray our honor and her own; Yet, if he gain the height, untamed, un thrown, All hands applaud him, and all plumes be doffed; AWhile for ourselves, we vow they both shall fare Unharmed beyond our realin-we reck not where." Divided, then, betwixt his ire and scorn, Outspake t he Earl, in ton es of savage glee: ' Woodsman! essay thy task, for lo! the nlorul Grows old, an d I t his w retched mum aery Would fain see ended." — With mien gravely free, Clad in light garb, o'erwrought by hound and lhorn, Oswald stood forth, nor quelled by frail alarms, About the maiden clasped his reverent arms; XXXIX. So, as decreed, the next miorn, calmn and clear, Witnessed, in many a diverse mode con veyed, A mixed and mighty concourse gathering near The appointed height, some in rough frieze arrayed, And some in gold; there blushed the downcast mnaid, Urged to this cruel test, a passionate tear Misting her view, as surged the living sea. Behind her, his arms folded haughtily, XLII. And she, like some pure flower by May tide rain Gracefully laden, turns her eyes apart Fromin the great throng, and, pierced by modest pain, V eiled her sweet face upon her lovei's heart; Whereat the youth is seen to thrill and start, aWhile o'er his own face, calm and pale but now, Rush the deep crimson waves from chin to brow; XLIII. Then do they ebb away, and leave him white As the vexed foain on ocean's stormy swell, His comely head thrown back, his eyes on fire With hot contenmpt, fixed on an armed ban l I i I 173 XLI. XL. LEGENDS AND LYIRICS. Yet cool and constant in his manful And the glad lustre of his wind-swept locks More radiant made thereby; his tall form towers 'Gainst the dark background, piled with rocks on rocks Precipitous, whose grim, gaunt visage lowN-er-s, As if in league they were - like Titan powers Victorious long o'er storms and earth quake shlocksTo cast imute scori n o himi whose doubt ful pa th Leads near the tlhreateninlg shadows of tlhe ir wiatlh. might As some stanch rock'gainst which tlhe tides rebel I1 useless rage, with hlollow, billovwy kinell; .Meawl-ile adv-ancing, with sure steps and light, IIe mov-es in measured w-ise to dare his fate Beneathl those looks of blended rutlh and lhate. XLIV. Stie y his generous bravery, and the siglht Of such young liv-es-thleir love, hope, joyanice set On the hard mastery of yon terrible height. AWhlose rugged slopes and shleer descent are w-et And slippery w-ithl the dews of da-wning yet, - TlIrough1 the dense rout, w-hichl swayed now left, now right. Low-. inarticulate mlurmiurs faintly ran, mAnd one keen, quivering slock from man to ian. XL'VIl. eFrom1 the charmned crowd then rose an easeful br-eatlh, Lighltening thle dense air; I)ut,'mnidst doubt and b)ale, Raves thle wild Earl, reckless of life or death, If so his tyrannous purpose could pre vail; For, almost mad, he smites his gloves of mnail, Goading witli frenzied hleel the steed Ibeneathl Ilis barbarous rule; in reason's fierce eclipse, A blood-red foaim burns on his writhling, lips. Tlie w-atchful matrons sob), the virgins wv eep Full tears, but all unheeded, as withl slow, bure footfalls still hle mounts thle hostile steep ()Ii to a point where two great columins sho-wr Thleir rounded heads, crowvned by the miorning glovw. Ilis task half done, a si,lgh, lo)ng, grateful, deep, Breaks fromii his lheaving heart; secure he stands, A sunbeam gliiiiering on his claspwd hands, X l,VIII. Mheanwheile, b r ief space for eedftul reslite giv en, Witlh quickenie(d pace, onward an-d iuI)NNard still, And fannied b)y freslhening gales, as niear-er hleav(eln He cliimibs o'er granlite passways of the lfill, OswN-ald ascend(s, untamed of strength or wi-ill, 11-4 XLVI. XLV. "The kiiigl,()Ii'l }i-iii-eliest N-,tl t. o THE MOUNTAINV 01i, J' LO VER-S. Striving, as ne'er before had mortal striven, Boldly to win, and p roudly wear as his, T'lle prize he bore of that bright, breath ing bliss. Of sense, or power; and so, with an — guished sighs, Turned on his love - the goal in easy reach - His yearning woe too deep for mortal speech. Two thirds, two thirds and more, of that last half Of his fell journey had hlie stoutly won; And now lie pauses the cool breeze to quaff, Aind feel the royal heartening of the sun Nerving his soul for what must yet be done, lheiie with a gentle, quivering, flutelike laugh, lholding a sob, the maiden rose and kissed Iler hier-o's lips, sought through a tremu lous mist Whereon the lady's arms are wildly raised, Perchance in prayer, perchance with pitying aim Hi s strain to ease, when lo! (dear Christ be praised!) It seemed new strength, fresh courage o'er him came, And through his spirit rushed a glorious flame, At which the crowd stood moveless, dumb. amazed, For, like a god, with swift, resistless tread, He strides to clasp the near goal o'er his head. Of love and pride! The on-lookers, ranged afar, Sa-w. and more boldly blessed them; all are moved To trust that theirs may prove the for tunate star Fate brightly kindles for young lives beloved: "His truth and valor hath he nobly proved; vIols brave, how constant both these lovers are; Soothli the sweet heavens seem with them." Thus, full voiced, Y et with some lingering doubts, the folk rejoiced. A savage cliff of beetling brow it was, Midmost the summit of the lowering height, Rooted amongst low shrubs and sun dried grass, And reared in blackness, like a cloud of night, On whose dull breast no beacon star is bright. Thitherward, from cold terrors of the pass Well nigh of death, the hero speeds amiiain, Nor seems his matchless labor wrought in vain. Alas! for false forecasting, and surmise! Though small the space betwixt him and his goal, Oswald doth stagger now in feeblest wise, And like some drunken carl, with heave and roll, Blindly he staggers in his lost control Yea; for a single rood's length oversped And victor y crow ns hi m! G od! how still the crowd, Once rife with voices! silent as the dead Lodged in their earthly crypt and moul dering shroud; 175 XLIX. Lll. L. Llll. LI. LIV. ILEGENDS AND LYR'ICS. Headed the rout, whose feverish fingers crept Oft to his sword hilt; on the topmost height, Pausing with veiled eyes, his gaze he kept Fixed on the prostrate pair, o'er whom the light Of broadening sunrise now was mixed with slha(le, And still the knighlt's hand wand(lere(l round his blade. LVIII. FImpatient, spleenful, struggling with the tide Of coIIImio folk, who seemed to hleed no nior~e His siillei passion and revengeful pride, Than if just then hlie were the veriest bool, - The Earl at lengtli with bent brows strode 1)efore The mongrel hord(le, and unto Oswald( cried: "Prise, traitor, rise! by somie foul, jug glintg sleig htt, Tllroullg the fiend's help, thou hast attained the height: But suddenly a great cry miiounited loud And shlrill above theni, as in rutliful driead, They saw the lovers, linked in close embr ace, Fall headlon-g down by that wild trysting place. Then comes a quick revulsion, when, the pain Of fear and choking sympathy gone by, Hope reappears -aye, joy and triumphl reign - For though supinie on yonder height they lie, Still, brow to brow, turned fromii the deepening sky, 'Tis but the faintness of the iniglhty strainO*) so tlhey dream - on o'erworked nerve and will, W-hiich leaves tlem moveless on the con — quered hill. Spurring his courser, il vexed doubt and haste, The Earl clharged on the dangerous heighlt, as though,i Firm-trenchedl, dlefiant,'mid the rock strewn waste Glittered the spear-points of his mortal foe; The horse's hoof struck fire, hurling below liuge stones and turf his goaded limbs displaced, Till checked midway, his reckless rider found He needs must climb afoot the treacher ous ground Part thein, I say! " To whom in mneas -Lred tone, MIeasured and strange, the young kniglht answering said: "Eail, well I know thou wear'st for heart a stonie, Yet dar'st thou part these twain whom death has wed, No longer twain, but one? Look! over head The burning slll imounlts to his noonday tlhroIne; But o'er the sun, as o'er this fateful so(l, PRles a great King, the King whose namne is God! And next the throng had caught, and past him swept, Clothed as he was in armlor; a young knight I I i-6 i IIV. I'Vi. LIX. LVII. OF THE LOVERS. Lifting his cup'mid brutal jest and jeer, Banned his pale daughter, slu"iberilng on her bier. LX. I)eem'st thou for this day's work His w-ratlh shall rest? " Ahliereon, low murmuring like a hive of bees, AWith stifled groans and tears, the people pressed I-'ouniid the fair corpses -women on their knees Embraced theml —and old men — but dusky lees Of feeling left-did touch them, and caressed The maid's soft hair, the woodsman's noble face, Praying, under breath, that Christ would grant them grace. LXIII. Just as those imipious wvords had taken flight, In the red dusk beyond the torch's glare, Stole a vague shape that'scaped the rev ellers' sight, Slowly toward Earl Godolf, unaware Even as the rest, -what fateful foe die\ near. nIuffled the shape was, masked and black as night, And now for one dread instant wsith raised sword Stood hovering o'er the heedless banquet board. That mournful day had waned; by sun set rose A wailing wind from out the dim north east; Whiclh,. as the shadows waxed at twi liglit's close O'er moat and wood, to a shrill storm increased: But in his castle hall, with song and feast, Varied fll oft by ribald gibes and blo ws Twixt ruffian guests in rage or maudlin play, The wild night raved its awful hours away. LXIV. And next with flashing motion fier ce and fast, Vengeaynsce desended on that g littering blade; The amazed spectators started, dumb, aghlast, While at their feet the caitiff lord was laid, His heart's blood trickling o'er the pur ple braid (For through his heart the avenger's brand had passed), And silver broidery of his gorgeous vest, Drawn drop by drop from out his smitten breast. LXII. With not a pang at thought of her whose formi In pallid beauty lay unwatched and dead, In a far turret clamber, where the storm, Thundering each moment louder over head, Entered and shook the close-draped, so5- A bre bed, The barbarous sire with wine and was sail warm, TIIE MO US TA I-V IT i LXI. TIXV. The muffled shape which as a cloud did rise On the wild or,ie, as a cloud departs; Wan hands are swept across bewildered eyes, And awe stilletl now the throbbing at their liearts, When suddenly one death-pale reveller starts LEGENDS AND LYltUCS. Until so sweet the tender wiooing breeze, So fraught the hours with balhs of sliihun brous ease, That those who niannied her, in the ge n)ial air And dalliance of the time, forgot the Ul) fromii the board and in shrill accent clries, ' Crst is this roof-tree, curst this meat and ile win. FIly. comriiades; fly w-ith miie the wrath D~iv ine!"' care Due to her courses; in the bland sun slliii-e They lay ench(anted, dreaminig dreams (diviine, cWhile idly drifting on the halcyon water, The bark obeyed whatever cur'rents caught lher. In haste. in hlorror, and great tumult, fled The affriglited guests; then, on the va canit roo10 No madldeningi voice thenceforth dis quieted, Fell the stern presence of a ghastly gloom. A place'tw-as deemed of hopeless, bale ful doom; Barred from all mortal view in darkness dread, Only the spectral forms of w-oe and Sii Tliro' the long years cold harborage found tlierein. Borne onward thlus for many a cloudless day, They reach at length a wide and wooded bay, The lhaunt of birds w hose purpling wings in flight Make even the blushful morniing seeim more bright, Flushed as wlithl darting rainbows; through the tide, By overripe pomegranate juices dyed, And lav-ing boughs of the wild fig and grape, Great shloals of dazzling fisles mad(ly ape The play of silver lightnings in the deep Translucent pools; the crewT awoke frot sleep, Or rather that strange trance that on them pressed Gently as sleep; yet still they loved to rest, Fanned by voluptuous gales, by mor phacan languors blessed. THIE J'E-GEA.VCE OF THE GODDESS -DI-A.4.* ANIIAVT time the Norman ruled in Sicily At that miiild( season wh-ien the vernal sea, O'erflitted by the zephyr's frolic wing,a I)anices and dimples in the smile of spring A goodly ship set sail utiPOn her way From Ceos unto Smyrna; through the play Of wave and sunbeam touched wit, fra grant calhni, ,She passed by beauteous island shores of palh, i s Wvilliam lorris, iii the first section of whose "Earthly Iblareu(yiset" tnlere s is t st ory (calle d " Thle Lad7y of the La) (I " ) found(led upon some of its more ot)vio)iis anId pol)ular incidents. Since Morris's wondlerftul tales were not publisheed until 18(is, we cain, at least, assert the humiiible claim of precedeince in the poetical treatmnent of this legend. * Sixteen y-ears ago, ini a volume of comparatively youthful verses, the above poenm appleared undier the title of " Arolio; a leofenp o,f tle islaiild of Cos." The original niarrative has now- been carefully rew\-ritteni and aimieinded alnd upwards of a hunldred and fifty lines of entirely new miatter have been a(ldled thereto. So far as w-e know-, the only poet -who bas celebrated this significant anld beautiful tradition, I i LXA-I. TII tE WEXGEAACE OF T[ILL' GODDET SS DI.ANA. The shore sloped upward into foliaged hills, ('left bv the channels of rock-fretted lrills, That flaslhed(l their wavelets, touched by ilis lilits, O'er many a tiny cataract down the leig,hts. Green vales there were between, and pleasant lawns Thick set with blooln, like sheen of tropic dawnis, Brilghtening the orient; further still the glades Of whiisperous forests, flecked with golden slhades, Stretched glimmering southward; on the w-ood's far riim, Faintly discerned thro' veiling vapors, dimii As iuists of Indian summer, the broad view WAVas clasped by mountains flickering in the bluiie And hazy distance; over all there hung The miorn's eternal beauty, calmni and young. Amid the thlrong, each with a marvel ling face Turned on that island Eden and its grace, Was one - Avolio - a brave youth of Florence, Self-exiled from his country, in abhor rexlce Of the base, b)lood-stained tyrants dom inant there. A gentlemian he was, of gracious air, And liberal as the summer, skilled in lore Of arms, and chivalry, and many more Deep sciences which others left uin learned. He loved adventure; how his spirit burned Within him, when, as now, a chance To search fntravelled forests, and strawngte f oe s Vanquish by puissa nce o f knightly I)woX-s, Or rescu e m aid en s from malignant spells, Enforced by hordes of wizard sentinels. So in the ardori of h is martial glee, He clapped his hat nds andl shyouted sual denly: "Ito! sirs, a clallenge! let us pierce these woo ds Down to the core: explore theis sol itbu des, And make the flowery empire all our own: Who knows but we may conquer us a thlrolle? At least, bold feats await us, giand em prise To win us favor in our ladies' eyes; By heaven! he is a coward who delays." So saying, all his countenance ablaze With passionate zeal, the youth sprang lightly up, And with right lusty motion, filled a clip -- They brought him straightway —to the glisteninig brim With Cyprus wine: " Now glory iinito hllin, The ardent knight, no mortal. danger dauints, Whose constant soul a fiery impulse haunts, WVhichl spurs him onward, onward, to the, end; Pledge we the brave! and may St. Ermo send Success to crown our valiantest!' This said, Avolio shoreward leaped, and with him led The whole ship's company. A motley band Where they who mustered round him on the strand, 179 arose LEUEND''S AND L1, CS. Thus wandering, they reached a sombre miound Rising abruptly from the level ground(l, And planted thick with dim funereal trees, Wghose foliage waved and n murmured, tho' the breeze ItHad sunk to mi(lnight quiet, and the sky Just o'er the p)lace seemed locked in apathy, Like a fair face wan with the sudden stroke Of death, or heart-break. Not a word they spoke, tBut paused with wide, bewildered, gleam illg eyes, Standing at gaze; what spectral terrors rise Andl coil about their hearts with serpent fol(l, And oh! wliat loathly scene is this they hold, Grasping with iiuwinking vision, as thev creep, Urged by their very horror, up the steep, And the whole preternatural landscape dawns Freezingly on them; a broad stretch of lawins, Sown with rank poisonous grasses, where the clew Of hovering exhalations flickeredl blue And wavering on the dead-still atnios p~tlere - Dead-still it was, and yet the grlasses sere Stirred as with hiorrid life amidst the sickening glare. The affriglited crew, all save Avolio, fled In wild disorder from this place of dread; In him, albeit his terror whispeire(i "fly!" The spell of some uncouth necessity Baffled retreat, and ruthless, scourged him on; for toil Which prolmised glory; the last keen for spoil! Thro' breezy paths and beds of blossom inig thymi-e Kept fresh by secret springs, the show e-y chlime Of wh-lose clear fall,ing waters in the dells I'lay(ed like an airy peal of elfin bells - WN'ithl eager miiilnds, but aimless, idle feet !The scene about them was so lone and sweet It spelled their steps),'nmid labyrinths of flow-ers, By imiossy streams and in deep shadowed l)ow-ers, They strayed from charmn to charm thro' lengthls of languid hours. In thickets of wild fern and rlestliing broomI,bod The humiiible bee buzzed past them w-ith a boom ()f insect thlunider; and in glens afar The golden firefly-a small animate star - shone from the twilight of the darkling leaves. hligh noon it was, but dusk like mellow eve, s lReigned in the wood's deep places, wN-lence it seemed That flashinig locks and quick arch glances gleamed From eyes scarce human. Thus the fancy deemed Of those most given to marvels; the rest laughed A mlerry jeering laugh; and many a shaft Launched from the Norman cross how, pierced the nooks, Or cleft the shallow channels of the brooks, Wvhence, as the credulous swore, an Ore ad shy, Or a glad nymph, had peeped out cun ningly. 180 'Nlix(,(l kiiiglits aiid traders; the first fired tliro' darkeiiiiig va I poi-s slion(, THIE I-E'.VA-( N(E OF THE GODDESS S)JANA. Nighl to his setting. and a sutidein blast - 5udden and cllill - -oke shrilly up, and passed WA-itlh ghlostly din and tumult; airy soutlnds Of sylvan horns, and sw-eep of circling hounds Nearing the quarry. Now the wizard chasea swept faintly, faintly up the fields of space., And no-w w-ithl backward rushing wihirl roared bvy Louder and fiercer, till a miaddeniing ' hitte(i slritiqk of human agoinyTjt.ce! utip. and died amid the stifling V(,Il ()f l)ruites athirst for blood: a crowningba swell Of sav-age triumplh followed, mixed with wvails Sad(l as the dyingi songs of nighltingales, IMulimring the name Acticoni! Even as one, A -wrapt sleep-w-alker, through the shlad ow-s dcun Of half oblivious sense, wn-ithl soulless gaze, Goes idly joulrneying through uncertain wav-as. 'Thus (lid Avolio. sore perplexed in mlind (Excess of imystery miade his spirit blind), Grope through the gloom. Anon lihe reached a fouinti Whose w-ater- columns had long ceased to mount Above its prostrate Tritons. Near at hand. I)amme(l up in part by heaps of tawny sand, All dull and lustreless, a streamulet wvouind Ily trickling banks, wiith dark, dank foliage crowned, That gloomed twixt sullen tides and lowering sky; lThe melancholy waters seemed to sighl Ina wail ful t urtmhrs of articulat e woe, Till at the last arose this strange dirge from below: SO-NG OF TIIE I1I'II'ISONEI) NAAII). "Woe! woe is me! the centuries pass away, I The mo rtal seasons run their ceaseless rounds, While here I with er fo r t he suinbrigt day, Its genial sights and sounds. AVoe! woe is me! b"One summer night, in ages long agone, I saw my woodla nd l over leave the brake; I heard him plaining on the peacieful lawn A plaint' for my sweet sake.' IVoe! woe is me! "-My heart upsprang to answer that fond lay, But suddenly the star-girt planets paled, And highl into the welkin's glimminering gray Majestic Dian sailed! Aoe! woe is me! "She swept aloft, bolcl almost as the suin, And wratlhful red as fiery-(cested Alars; Ah1! then I knew some fearful deed was done On earth, or in the stars. WVoe! woe is me! "With ghastly face upraised, and slhud(l dering throat, I w atched the omiien wn-ith a prescient pain; When, lightning-barbed, a beamny arrow smote, Or seemxied to smite, my brain. Woe! woe is me! 181 LEGENDS ANVD LYRICS. cJust then, uplifting his bewildered eyes, Il e sanw, half hid in shade, on either lhan-d, Twin pillars of a massive gateway grand AVitli gold and carvings; close behlind it stood A solmbie mansion in a beechl tree wood. Long wreatlhs of ghostly ivy on its walls Qllivered' like gobliii tapestry, or palls, Tatteredl all(l rtsty, mil(lewe(l in tlhe (cill Of dreadful vaults; across eaclh wind(low sill Curtains of weird device and fiery hue Ituing nioveless, - only wlieii thle sun glanced through The gathering gloom, the hieroglyplhs took form And life an(l action, and the whllole grew warnli With meanings bafiling to Avolio's sense; He stood expectant, trembling, with in tense Dread in his eyes, and yet a struggling faitlh, Vital at heart. A sudden passing breath - Was it the wind?-tlhrilled by his ting ling ear, WVaving the curtains inwardl, a(nd his fear oUpirose victorious, for a serpent shape, Tall, stipple, wr- ithing, with malignant gal)e, Which showed its cruel fangss —hissed in the gleamn Its own fell eyeballs kind(lied! Oh! su pl eiiie The horrior of that vision! -as he gazed, Irresolute, all wordless, and anaze(l, The mi-oster disappeared(l -a'molielit sped! The next it fawned before hhin on a bed( Of scarlet poppies. "Speak," Avolio sa id; "What art thou? Speak! I charge thee in Go(d's nam,tiiie!" lorln, Fettered and sorrowing1i on this lonely bed, Shut from the mirtlhftul kisses of the mo n-stood Eartll's glor-ies overhead. WAoe! w-oe is m,e! The southl wind( stirs the sedges into solg, The blossomiing miyirtles scent the en ailoried air; But still, sore noaning, for another's w1rong, I pine in sadness here. W'oe! Aw-oe is iie! ",Alas! alas! the wi-eary centuries flee, The wAaning, seasons perish, dark or bright; MAy grief alone, like somie charmned poi son-tree, Knowis not an awotumiin mlight. AWoe! I-oe is me!'' The miourinful sounds swooned off, but Echo rose, And bore them up divinely to a close Of rare mysterious sweetness; never nlore Shall miortal winds to listening wood and shoire WAaft such heart-melting music. "Where, oh! wihere," Av-olio nimurniured-"to what haunted sphereHIas fate at leng,th my errant footsteps brought?' Launche(d oni a baffling sea of mystic thought, ltis reason in a whirlinig chaos, lost Compass and chart and headway, vague ly tossed 'l id shifting shapes of wiinged fanta sies. 182 ' OI)IiN-ion clasped me, till I NA-oke for TTIIE GODDESS DI,NA. 183 The island's fated queen?" "Yea, verily," Avolio cried, "thou art that thing of dread " Sharply the serpent raised its glittering head And front tempestuous: "Hold! no tongu s e isave tine Must of these miseries tell thee! Then incline A death-cold shudder seized the serpent's frame, Its huge throat writhed, whence bub bling with a throe Of hideous import, a voice thin and low Broke like a muddied rill: "Bethink thee well, This isle is Cos, of which old legends tell Such marvels. Hast thounever heard of me, "A monster meeet for Tartarus, a thing Whereon men gaze with awe and shuddering." Thine ear to the dark story of my grief, And with thine ear yield, yield me thy belief. Foul as I am, there was a time, O youth, When these fierce eyes were founts of love and truth; There was a time when woman's blooming grace Glowed through the flush of roses in my face; When -but I sinned a deep and dann ing sin, The fruit of lustful pride nurtured within By weird, forbidden knowledge- I defied The night's immaculate goddess, purest eyed, And holiest of immortals; I denied The eternal Power that looks so cold and calm; Therefore, 0 stranger, am I Twhat I am, A monster meet for Tartarus, a thing Whereon men gaze with awe and shud dering, I TEE VENGEANCE OF A-itlh sparkliing crIest, aild iiiuiversal thrlill O)f freizied eageinless, that seecne( to fill fler caverinous eyes w-itii jets of ltirid tire, P'ulsed fromi the hburning core of unllap peased desire. Back stel)l)pped Av-olio w-ith a loatli s ing fear. Sick to the ilnmost soul; then did lhe hlear T'le a-wfuil creature venit a tortured gTmall? ~' a iler franitic neck anld d(Iragon's forehlead thlrown-n 5Aladlv to eartlh. -lwhereon a-while shle Ier glances v-eiledl. iei d(ark erest turned aN-ay. As tllhus shle girov-elld(l, quivering on tlle gronu n d, hss Stole thlron-h thle l)rooding silence a faint souyllId As'tw-ere of hopeless grief-it seemiedid to h)e -A humania voice w-eeping lhow piteoulsl'y! Yet its deep passion striving to sl)b (du,e. ,Just tlieii the serpent writhied her folds alleWs. And while firom eartlh hler hlorrent crest sli e ire ans. The l! l(),,'eature' s face is batlhed in r,t i'5 *o ~.I kvl 11.1 ~ itlll -lltll. 11 1. Dllt, il. der-e(I 1olovv, GI row-inig d(Ieatlh-I)tle fromI trenmlous chiii to 1)1.0-"-) " 1h, (oel! - c(t,(Ol ot hkiss th(ee! Ne'er tirelesss, Faii aim I iln tlhe true (God's nanme( to )less, AI1(I even i to t ids k tiee wlithi Ilis sa( ire(I CrOss! 1' As one wvei,ghIed down lby anguiish an(d tll(h loss Of one last hope, ini faltering tolnes and( sad The serpen(t sl)akle(: "I)eemi'st thoui that I)ifii liad aNo life bsut thlait w-l(eewith her vsotaries Nay, slhe botlh tcc(t, nd,tilI s,iot, as Oll e~altl, Ev-eni to t;1is dayt, full iiman11y aI th1ilg flo111 To deatl lIi)ses alike tlohrougll bana e ake )lirss; Fu1ll iiman y a t1i11g, w11icI1 is nIot a(l y(t is, Sav(e to imian's puirl)linid( vision;- in thel enid Somiie clearer spirits imay rise to coiiipre liell(i This strange (enigmiia! bllt miieanwlile, nmeanll+lile h'le sure lheavenlis (chialnge iiot, st,ar anid sentil)eaiii smiiile Fair as of yen'e; eteriial niaturie kIeeps Iler strejigtlh an(I beauity, tllotigh the milor-tal wi-eeps 7']E }T-E-VGEA-NCE OF THE GODDESS DIANVA. In (lesolation' Olh' n-ert tho/i but true Anld l)rave eniow- this thing I ask to do. Tli liiiiiian, happy, beauteous w-ould I be., ~e merciful G(ods! once iniore!' Then suddenly Shle -writlhed lier vast nleck round, her glittering crest (-"ast )a( k-ar id o' er the fierce, tuiniultu ois I)reast. e( as a storin' sunset- -itlh a mioan, ~' Pas o(. w-eak soul!" she said, " leave iiie alone: The lih ll. \ o'( I wvould not catch tline ev-etV,. f,i~,7 7)t.,t;.' o for swviftlv, furiously, i'rges a cruel thoughlit through all imy b~lood. iAnd the blrute instincts turn to hardi hood Of veugeful inipilse all miy gentler tilanlesee (;o' for I -would not harm thee; yet a flamle Of b)lating tornents have I pow-er to raise Thlrouglh all thy li)elu,. and mine eyes c,,il[,! gaze. G(loatiug on pain. Is this not hlorri ble? " An(l thlerew-itlial the w-retchied monster fell To open wA-eeping, wNith sa(l front, and I)oIN-e(l. biowed. ko Soimetliing in such base cruelty avoweed, I'lent w-ithl the softer w-ill vwhichl disal low-eds Its exer1cise. SO on A,volio w-rouglht, Tlhat sore p)erplexeld, revolving many a thought. Ile lingerele still. lost in a spiritual mist; But whlieu the moutlh that waited to be kissed. Fringed N-ithl a yellowv foami, malignly ros~ Before him. his first fear its terril)le tlhroes IRenewed. ",And how, ( baleftil shape! " said lieStriving to speak iin passionless tones, andl free" Howv can I tell, what certain,age have 1, That this strange kiss thine awful des tiny Hathli not ordained - the least elaborate plan Whereby to snare and slay ie?" 0 man! i] an! " The serpent answered, with a loftier mnienA voice grown clear, majestic and se rene"Shall )Jl(ttter always triumpl)li? the base iiohll oIask the inimmortal essence, uncontrolled Save by your grovelling fancies mean and colh'. O green and hi-a,ppy wvood(s, breathing like sleep! O quiet habitants of places deep In leafy shades, that draw your peaceful breatlhs, Passing fair lives to rest in tranquil deaths! 0 earth! O sea! O hleavens! foreveri duiil) To man, -whlile ages go and agres conme MLysterious, have the dark Fates willed it so That nevermiiore the sons of 111eI s11all know The secret of your silence? the -i(le scope Granted your basking pleasures, and swN-eet lhope, s Revived in vernal warnmthl and spring ti(l(e ]-ills, Your long, long pleasures, and yoIIur fleeting 1)ails? And must thle lack of w11at is brave altd FroIIm other souls, callous or 1)lind tlhel to, FlroII1 what tlh(eliselwvt,, beauteous and truthful are, I 8 II-) i I LEG!ENDS ANID) LYR IC(IS. Differ for aye as glow-worms from a star? Is such our life's decretal? Shlall the faith Which even, perchance, the clearest spirit lhatlh In good within us, always prove less bold Tlhan keen suspicions, nursed by craven doubt, Of treacherous ills, and evil from with out? " Tlhen, after pause, with passion: " 0O eternh And bland benignities, that breathe and burn Throughout creation, are we but the lnotes In some vague dream that idly sways and floats To nothingness? or are your glories pent WAithin ourselves, to rise omnipotent In bloomii and music, whlen we bend above, Anld wake them by the kisses of our love? I yearn to be made beautiful. Alas! Beauty itself looks on, prepared to pass, In hardened disbelief! oiie action kin(d Would free and save me - why art thllou so blind, Avolio? " While she spoke, a timiorous lhare, Scared by a threatening falcon from its lair, PRushled to the serpent's side. With fondling tongue She soothed it as a lmother soothes her youn1g. Avolio mused: "Can innocent things like this Take refuge by her? then, perchance, some good, Some tenderness, if rightly understood, LII'ks in her nature. I wuill (,o the (eIe(el' C'hi).st (bidl the Vi'-i-L sotre ))~c ((t T) oa his eyes, And with some natural shuddering, some deep sigls! Gave up his pallid lips to the foul kiss! What followed then? a traitorous ser pent hiiss, Sharper for triumph? Ah! not so -1 e felt A warm, rich, yearning mouth approach and melt In languid, loving sweetness on his own, And tw-o fond arms caressingly were, thrown About his neck, a nd on h is bosom pressed Twin lilie s of a snow white virgi n breast. IIe raised his eyes, re leased from brief despair; They rested on a maiden tall and fairFair as the tropic imorn, when morn is neewAnd her swveet glances snote him through and(I through WVitlh suclh keen thrilling rapture that he swore His willing heart should evermore adore Her loveliness, and woo her till he died. "I am thine own," she whispered, " thy true bride, If thoui wilt take me!" Hand in hand they strayed AdoNwn the shadows through the wood land glade, AWhlence every evil influence shrank afraid, An.d round them poured the golhlen even tide. Swiftly the tidings of this strange event Abroad on all the garrulous winds were sent, lRouising an eager world to wonderment! Now'mind the knightly companies that came To visit Cos, was that brave chief, by famiie, I 18i3 He signed the monster nearer, closed TIlE SOLI7TRAY LAIIvY. Exalted for bold dleeds and faith divine, So nobly shown- erewhile in PalestineTancried, Saleino's Prince -he camie ill state, WVitli fourscore gorgeouLs barges, smnlal l and great, W0-itlh polllp and iimus'eC, like all ocean Fate; Ilis blazonedtl prows along the glimmer ikeg sea Spread like all eastern suinirise gloriously. Dreamlike, in curves of palest gold, aThe wavering mnist-wreathls manifold Part in lonig,ifts, thllroughl whlichl I view Gray islets thllroned in tides as blue As if a piece of heaven w itlhdirawnAV1heice lints of sunrise touchl the dawn - Had b)routglt to eartlh its sapphlire glow, And smiled. a second lheav-en. below. llim an(d his followers did Avolio feast t-iglit royally, but lwhen thle iirthli in creased, -Vnd joyous-wingbid jests beaan to pass Al)ove the sparkling clips of Ilippocras, Tancre(l arose, an(l in his courtly phlrase Invoked(l delighlt and lengthl of prosperous days To crow-i that magic uniol; one vagtue doubt The Prince diil move, and this hle dared speak out, Blut withl serene and temipered courtesy: It could not be that their sw-eet hostess still Worshlipped Diana and hler hleathen o w-ill? " Dreamlike, in fitful], murmurous sighls, I hear the distant west w ind rise, Andl, down tlhe hollows wanidering, break In iurglilng ripples on the lake, IPound whichl the vapors, still outspread, doulbt T -anly wi(loeling overhead, Till fluislhed by itioroinig's primiirose-red. Dreamlike, eachl slow, soft-pulsing surge IHatlh lapped tlle calmn lake's emerald velrge, Sending, wliere'er its tremors pass Low whlisl)erinigs tlhroughI tlle dew-wet grass; Faint thlrills of fairy soun(l that creep To fall in n0eigil)orinlog naooks asleep, Or inelt in ri( low wa-rl)lings made By some winged Ar-iel of the glade. Ah sir! not so! " Avolio flushling ciied, 'Buit Clhrist the Lord!' No single w-ord replied The beauteous lady, buLt withl gentle pride And a quick motion to -Avolio's side Slie drewv more closely by a little space, (Gazinig w-ithll modest passion in his face, As one w-ho yearned to lwhisper tenderly: 0, brav-e kind hleart! I worship only tlhee "' AWithl brighltening iimorn the inockbird's lay Grows strlonger, me]ellower; far away '3Iid (IdIsky reeds. whiclh even the noon Liglhts not, tlle lonely-lhearte(d loon MIakes answier lher shrill imuisic slhorn Of half its sadness; day, full-born, DI)oth rout all sounds and sighlts forlorn. e Ah! still a somnethling strange and rare O'errules thllis tranquil earthl and air, Ceastin ns o'er botl a gla siouir known To their enichlanite(d realhn alone; WlIence slhines, as'twere a spi'it's face, Tlhe swveet coy genius of the place, FOMi garishl lighlt and life apart, Shlrined in the w-oodland's secret heart, Waith delicate mist s of thornpiag fuiled Fanta,stic o'er- its shadowy w or-ld, 187 The lake, a valorous visioii, gleaiiis 'So vaguely bi-iglit, iiiy f,,tii(.,y (leeiiis 'Tis but aii aii-y I,,tke of dreams. THF, 0 L 1 7'4 P, I' L,4 KE. LEGENDS AND LYRICS. Or caii it be that ages since, storlm tossed, And driven far iniiland fromi the roar ilng lea, Somie baffled ocean-spirlit, worni and lost, HerIte, thlrotughl dry summier's dearth and winlte r's fr ost, Yearnis for the sharp, sweet kisses of the sea? ~oli lake belheld as if iii trance, The bealuty of -whose shly romiance I feel —whatever sliores aiid skies AIay clharin henceforth mly wonderingu eyes, - Shiall rest, uindinIlliied b)y tailit or stain, 'Mlid lollely byway-s of the )brailn, Tlee, -with its halloting grace, to seem Set iii the landscape of a drealmi. Whlate'er the spell, I hearken and am di1iil),1 Dreamn-touched(, and( musing in the tranquiil imiorn; All woodland solinds - the phleasant's ghssty (IrutaIi, The iimock-bird('s fugue, the droning ilk sect's hunli - Scarce lheard for that strange, sorrow fiil voice forlorn! THE TO'0lC'E L-V THE PINES.d THE miorn is softly beautiful and still, Its light fair clouids in pencilled gold and gray Pause motionless above the pine-grown hill, V ahere the pilles, tranced as by a wiz ard's wl'ill. Uprise as iiuite and motionless as tlle! Beneathl the drowsed sense, froi leep to deep Of spiritual life its mournful miinoi flows, Streamilike, witlt pensive tid(le, wvlose c nurrents keep Low mnurm uri-iing'twixt the boound(Is of grief and sleep, Yet locke(d for aye frolmi sleep's divine repose. Yea! mutte and moveless; not one flick ering spray Flaslhed into sunlight, nor a gaunt boughl stirred; Yet, if wooed lhelnce beneath tllose pines to strav, We catchl a faint, thiin murmur far away, A bodiless voice, by grosser ears un hleard. What v-oice is this? what low and sol emin tone, AWhichl, tlhoughl all wings of all the wvinds seemii fiurled. Nor even the zephlyr's fairy flute is blown, Makes thlus forever its mysterious moan Froml out the whispering pine-tops' shadowy world? FLIYIN-( from out the gusty wc-est, To seek tie place where last yeari's nest, Rtaggedl, and torn by many a foul: Of winter winds, still rocks al)ouit The b)ranchles of the gnarled ol0( tree Whichl sweep miy cottage librir- Here on the genial souitlherin si;e, In a late gleaiii of s-unset's pri(le, Carame b)ack ny tiny, sprin-gti(lde('riedls, Tlhe self-same 1)air of cllattering wr-enis That wNitlh arclh eyes and(I ri(stiess b)ill Used to fie(iuelit yon window sill, Winged( sprites, in Apiril's showery glow. Ah! can it be the antique tales are true?' Dotli some lone Dryad haunt the bareezeless air. Fronting yon brighlt iminitigable blue, And wildly breathing all her wild soul tllrough That strange unearthly music of de spair? I 4 0 VI,5[T OF THE JJ-I,EN,. VISIT TO I'IE WRENS. Tis now twelve weary months ago Since first I saw tlhem; here again They drop outside the glitteringI pane, Eachl bearing a dried tw-ig or leaf, To build w-ithl labor hlard, yet brief, This seasohi's nest, wh-lere, blue and round, 'rlTeir fairy e,gs w-\ill soon be found. lBut sky and breeze and blithesomie sun, Until that little hlome is done, liall-x-wondering(, mllaybe-lhear and But all! I wondel if again, Flittilng outside tlhe window pane, AVhen next the slirewvd March winds slh-all blow, Or ill miili Akpril's showers glow, New comell fromi out the shliimmering west, You'll seek the place of this yeai's inest, Raggo3d and torn by tlhen, no doubt, And swinging in worn slhreds about The brallches of the ancient tree. see Such chattei. bustle, indulstry, As w-ell nliav stir to einulous strife Slow- (cui einits of a langui rd life, \V l,,thtlCr i bird( or mialn they runi-! -Nay, w ho may tell? Yet, verily, oIethinks when, spring and summer passed, Adown the lon', low autum n blast, In some dim gloaminig, clhill and drear, You, with your fledglings, disappear, That ne'er by porch or tree or pane 3line eyes shall greet your forms again! Bltut whenh, in soothl, the nest complete swings-il gently in its green retreat, And soft the mother birdliing's breast Dotli in thle cozy circlet rest, Iow-, back from jovial jourtneying, MAlIiy of heart, though worn of wing, Ier lIrown m- ate, proudly perched above Thie limiib that holds his br-oodinig love, flis head upturneed, his aspect sly, E-egards her with a cunninlg eye, As onle who saithl, " Iow well you bear The dulliness of these duties, dear; To (Idw-ell so lonig oi nest or tree A-ould be, I know-, slow death to me; tt, tlien, you wi-omen folk were made For patient wN-aitinlig, ini - the shade!" AV~hat then? At least the good ye brought, The delicate clharis for eye and thought Survives; thoughl death should be your dooimi Before another spring flower's bloom, Or fairei clime should temnpt your wi,ngs To bide'ini(d fragrant blossomluings On some far'Southlan(I's golden lea, Still may freshl spring morns light for ine Your tiny nest, their breezes bear Your chirpinig, household joyance near And all your quirks and tricksome ways ]'Bring back through many smiiling days Or future Aprils; -not the less Your simple driaIma shiall impress Fancy and heart, thus acted o'er Toward each small issue, as of yore, WVitlh sun and wind and( skies of blue To witness, wondering, all you do, Because your lal-)py toil abd( mirth l MAlay be of fine, ideal birtlh; Because each quick, impulsive note MNIay thrill a visionary throat. Each flaslh of glAncing wing and eye I'e gleamIa s of v-iv~i(d fantasy; 5o tamne one little guest becomes - 'Tis the male bird — iiy scattered crumlbs Ile takes fronm window sill and lawn Eaclh morilling in the early dawn; -iild yesterday hlie dared to stand S'eiely on miy outstrethed liand, VWhile his w-ee wife, withl puzzled Looked fo er breezy seat askance, Lookedl froml- her breezy seat askance! My pretty pensioners! ye hlave flown Tw-ice from your winter nook unknown, To build your hlumble homiestead here, In tlhe first flushl of springtide cheer; 189 1LEGE~N),S AlvD L1RIC S. Sliy fornis al)bout the greenery, out and A past reality bath known, MNost clhariminiig uiinto soul and sense, But wi-ins that subtle effluence, That spiritual air which softly clings About all sw-eet anil vanished tilings, Causing, a bygoine joy to be \Vital as actuality, Yet wiith a ea eartllier tint or trace Lost in a pure, ethereal grace! ill, Flit'neatli the broadening glories of the 111o01'1; The squirrel - that quaint sylvan liarle quini aeouniits the tall trunks; wh-lile swift as liglhtnling, bolrn Of siIiimer miiists, froiii tangled vine and tree Dart the dove's piiiois, pulsing vividly Downi the dense glades, till glimumering far aid( gray The dusky vision softly melts away! FOREST PICTURE,S. MIONING. O GRACIOUS breath of suinrise! divine air! That brood'st serenely o'er the pur pilng hills; O blissful valleys! nestling, cool and fair. In the fond arms of yonder murmnur ous I-ills, Breathilng their grateful measures to the sun; O dew-besprinkled paths, that circling run Thlrough sylvan shades and solemn si lences, Once more ye bring my fevered spirit peace! The fitful breezes, fraughlt with forest balm. Faint, in rare wvafts of perfume, on my brovw; lThe w-oven lights and shadows, rife with calm, Creep slantwise'twixt the foliage, bough on bough Upliftedl heavenward, like a verdant cloud Whose rain is music, soft as love, or loud With jubilant hope-for there, en tranced, apart, The mock-bird sings, close, close to Na ture's heart. In transient, pleased bewilderinent I The last dim shimnmner of those lessen i'g wings, pWhen from lonie copse and shadowy covert, hark! frThat mellow tongue throulgh all the wvoodlaind rings! The deer-liomnid's voice, sweet as the golden bell's, Prolonged by flying echoes round the dells, And up the loftiest sumimits wildly borne, Blent with the blast of somne keen lhunts Iman's lhorn. And now the checkered vale is left be hiind; I climb the slope, and reach the hill top brigh t; Here, in bold freedom, swells a sover eignl wind, Whose gusty prowess sweeps the pine clad height; WVhile the pines —dreamy Titans roused from sleepAnswer with mighty voices, deep on deep Of wakened foliage surging like a sea; And o'er them smiles Heaven's calh infinity! 190 Since -,i-liatsoe'er of foi-iii and toi-ie "The woven lights and shadows, rife with calm, Creep slantwise'twixt the foliage, bough on bough." f GOLDEN DELL.-ASPECTS OF THE PINES. But, fairest of fair things that dwell 'Mid sylvan nurslings of the dell, Is that clear stream whose murmurs swell BEYOND our mrross-growvn pathway lies A dell so fair, to genial eyes It dawns an ever-fresh surprise! To music's airiest issues wrought, As if a Naiad's tongue were fraught With secrets of its whispered thought. To touch its charms with gentler grace, The softened heavens a loving face Bend o'er that sweet, secluded place. Yes, fairest of fair things, it flows 'Twixt banks of violet and of rose, Touched always by a quaint repose. There first, despite the March wind's cold, Above the pale-hued emerald mould The earliest spring-tide buds unfold; H ow golden bright its currents glide! While goldenly from side to side Bird shadows flit athwart the tide. There first the ardent mock-bird, long Winter's dumb thrall, from winter's wrs on g Breaks into gleeful floods of song; So Golden Dell we name the place, And aye may Heaven's serenest face Dream o'er it with a smile of grace; For next the moss-grown path it lies, So pure, so fresh to genial eyes It glows with hints of Paradise! Till, from coy thrush to garrulous wren, The humbler bards of copse and glen Outpour their vernal notes again; 04 While such harmonious rapture rings, With stir and flash of eager wings Glimpsed fleetly, where the jasmine clings TALL, sombre, grim, against the morn ing sky They rise, scarce touched by melan choly airs, Which stir the fadeless foliage dream fully, As if from realms of mystical despairs. To bosk and briar, we blithely say, "Farewell! bleak nights and mornings gray, Earth opes her festal court to-day! " There, first, from out some balmy nest, By half-grown woodbine flowers caressed, Steal zephyrs of the mild southwest; Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleams Brightening to gold within the wood land's core, Beneath the gracious noontide's tranquil beams But the weird winds of morning sigh no more. O'er purpling rows of wild-wood peas,* So blandly borne, the dron ing bees Still suck their honeyed cores at ease; Or, trembling through yon verdurous mass, Dew-starred, and dimpling as they pass The wavelets of the billowy grass! A stillness, strange, divine, ineffable, Broods round and o'er them in the wind's surcease, And on each tinted copse and shimmer iring dell Rests the mute rapture of deep heart ed peace. * In the Southern woods, often among sterile tracts of pine barren, a species of wild pea is foulnd, or a plant which in all externals resembles the pea plant. 191 G OLDEN DELL. .ASPECTS OF THE, PINES. LLEGEUNDS AND LYIRICS. Last, sunset comes - the solemn joy and might Borne from the West when cloudless day declinesLow, flutelike breezes sweep the waves of light, And lifting dark green tresses of the pines, What mocking spirit, ether-born, Hathli built those transient spires in scorn, And reared towards the topmost sky Their unsubstantial fantasy! Some stretched in tenuous arcs of light Athwart the airy infinite, Fiar glittering up yon fervid dome, And lapped by clottu(lland's lnisty foam, Whose wreaths of fine sun-smiitten spray MIelt in a burning haze away: Some throne(l in heaven's serenest sluiles, Pure-hlued, and caln as fairy isles, Girt by the tid es of soundless seasThe heavens' benign Hesperides. Till every lock is luminous - gently float, Fraught with hale odors up the heav enls afar To faint when twilight on her virginal t hroat Wears for a gein the tremulous vesper star. I love inidsumnmer uplands, free To the bold raids of breeze and bee, Where, nested warm in yellowing gr ass, I hear the swvift-winged partridge pass, With wlhirr and boom of gusty flight, Across the broad heathl's treeless height: Or, just w-hiere, elbow-poised, I lift Above the wild flower's careless drift ily hlalf-closed eyes, I see and hear The blithe field-sparrow twittering clear Quick ditties to lhis tiny love; While, front afar, the timid dove, With faint, voluptuous muiiirmnur, wakes The silence of the pastoral brakes. I LOVE Queen August's stately sway, And all her fragrant south winds say, With vague. mysterious meanings frau,ight, Of inimaginable thought; Those winds,'mid change of gloom and gleam, Seem wandering thlro' a golden dream - The rare midsummer dream that lies In ihumid depths of nature's eyes, Weighing her languid forehead down Beneath a fair but fiery crown: Its witchery broods o'er earth and skies, Fills with divine amenities The bland, blue spaces of the air, And smliles with looks of drowsy cheer 'MIid hollows of the brown-hued hills; And oft, in tongues of tinkling rills, A softer, homelier utterance finds Than that which haunts the lingering w-indls! I love midsummer sunsets, rolled Down the rich west in waves of gold, With blazinig crests of billowy fire. But when those crimson floods retire, In noiseless ebb, slow-surginig, grand, By pensive twilight's flickering strand, In gentler mood I love to mark The slow gradations of the dark; Till, lo! from Orient's mists withdrawn, Hail! to the mtoon's resplend ent dawn; On dusky vale and haunted plain Her effluence falls like balny rain; Gaunt gulfs of shadow own her might; She bathes the rescued world in light, So that, albeit my suiniier's day, Erewhile did breathe its life away, I love midsummer's azure deep, Whereon the huge white clouds, asleep, Scarce move through lengths of trancd hours; Some, raised in forms of giant towers - Dumb Babels, with ethereal stairs Scaling the vast height - unawares 192 t MIDSU.ILIIEP, -LV THE, SOUI'Il-. Methinks,OUDPITUES 193ee ishus a o Gray lines of Orient i)ilgrimiis: a gaunt band On famislhed camels, o'er the desert sand Plodding towards their prophet's HIoly Land; 'Mid-ocean, - and a shoal of whales at play, Lifting their monstrous frontlets to the day, Thro' rainbow arches of sun-smitten spray; Followed by splintered icebergs, vast and lone, Set in swift currents of some arctic zone, Like fragments of a Titan's world o'er thrown; .Aethiinks, whvlate'er its hours had won Of beauty, born fromn shade and sun, Hatl not perchance so whol ly died, But o'er the imoonliglht's silvery tide Comes back, sublimed and purified! CLO UD-PICTUBES. HERE in these mellow grasses, the whole miorn, I love to rest; yonder, the ripening corn Rustles its greenery; and his blithesome horn WVinidetlh the frolic breeze o'er field and dell, Now pealing a bold stave with lusty swell, Now falling to low breaths ineffable Of whispered joyance. At calm length I lie, Fronting the broad blue spaces of the sky, Covered with cloud-groups, softly jour neying by: An hundred shapes, fantastic, beau teous. strange, Are theirs. as o'er yon airy waves they range At the wind's will, from marvellous change to change; Castles, with guarded roof, and turret tall, Great sloping archway, and majestic wall, Sapped by the breezes to their noiseless fall! Pagodas vague! above whose towers outstream Banners that wave with motions of a dream - Rising, or drooping in the noontide gleam; Next, measureless brea(lths of barren, treeless moor, Whose vaporous vecige fades down a glimmering sh ore, Round which the foamn-capped billows toss and roai! Calms of bright water-like a fairy's wiles, Wooing with ripply cadlene and soft smiles, The golden slhore-slopes of Hesperian Isles; CLOUD-PICTURES. 193 4 Their inland plains iife with a rare in crease Of plum6d grain! and many a snowy fleece Shining athwart the dew-lit hills of peace; Wrecks of gi,antic cities - to the tune Of some wise air-God built! -o'er which the noon Seems shuddering; caverns, such as the wan Moon LEGEIEADS AND ]] I'. Shows in her desolate bosom; then, a crowd Of awed and revseieiit faces, palely bowed O'er a dead queen, laid in her ashy shroud A queen of eld -her pallid brow im pearled By gems barbaric! her strange beauty furled In mystic cerements of the antique world. Weird pictures, fancy-gendered! -one by one, 'Twixt blended beams and shadows, gold and dun, These transient visions vanish in the sun. IN THE PIlVE BR'RE.NlVS. SUNSET. HARK! to the mournful wind; its burden di-ear Borne overi leagues of desert wild and dun, Sinks to a weary cadence of despair, Beyond the closing gateways of the sun, Yon clouds are big with flame, and not with rain, Massed on the marvellous heaven in splendid pyres, Whereon ethereal genii, half in pain Andl half in triumph, light their fervid fires: Kindled in funeral majesty to rise Above the perished day, whose latest breath Exhaled, a roseate effluence to the skies, Still lingers o'er the pageantry of death. One stalwart hill his stern defiant crest Boldly against the horizon line up rears, His blasted pines, smit by the fiery West, Uptowering rank on rank, like Titan spears; Fantastic, bodeful, o'er the rock-strewn ground Casting grim shades beyond the hill slope riven, Which mock the loftier shafts, keen, lustre-crowned And raised as if to storm the courts of He av e n! As sinks the wind, so wane those won drous lights; Slowly they wane from hill and sky and cloud, While round the woodland waste and glimmering heights The mist of gloaming trails its silvery shroud! SO ~YEI 7'. SUNSET, the god-like artist, paints on air Pictures of loveliness and terror blent! Lo! yonder clouds, like mountains tem pest-rent, Through whose abysmal depths the lightning's glare Darts from wild gulfs and caverns of de spair: O'er these a calm, majestic firmament, Flushed with rich hues, with rainbow isles besprent, Like homes of peace in oceans heavenly fair: But still, beyond, one lone mysterious cloud, Steeped in the solemnn sunset's fiery mist, Strange semblance takes of Him whose visage bowed, Divinely sweet, o'er all things, dark or bright, Yet draws the darkness ever toward His light The tender eyes and awful brow of Christ! I 194 I SONYVET.-AFTER THE TORNADO. Thlrougih which, uncertain, vague as shiftin, ghosts, lThle form-is of all things touched by mystery seem, I w-alk, methinks, on pale Plutonian coasts, And grope'mid spectral shadows of a dream —. They softly come, they softly go, Capricious as the vagrant wvind, Nature's vague thoughts in gloom or glo, That leave no air-iest trace behind. No trace, no trace! yet wherefore thus Do shade and beam our spirit's stir? Ali! Nature may be cold to us, lut we are strangely inoved by her. The wild bird's strain, the breezy spray, Eacll hour withl sure earthl-chlanges riif e Hint more tlhan all the sages say, Or poets sing of deatlh and life. Ix- the deep hollow of this sheltered dell I hear the rude winds cliant their giant staves Far, far beyond mie, where in darkening T waves The airy seas of cloudland sink or swell. For trutls half drawn from NatuLre's breast. Through subtlest types of form and tone, Outwseigh vllat man, at most, hath guessed Whliie lheeding his own heart alone. N-o fainit breeze stirs tlhe wvild-flower's soundless bell, Ilere in the quiet vale, whose rivulet lav-es Banks silent almost as those desert engraes, Wlhereof the w-orni Zaharan wanderers tell. And midway, betwixt heaven and us, Standls p Natin e ito her fadeless grace, Still pointini,g to our Fatlher's lhouse, His glory on lheir mystic face. Ohi' tlhus from out still depthls of tran qiuil dooim, Iy- soutl beyonid her views life's turmnoil vast, Ilearkenbilg the wind(ly rioar and rage of 1llen, i LAST eve the earth was caln, the heav i ens were clear; A peaceful glory crowned the wnaning d-west, And yondler distant mountain's hoary -\aiii to he, eyes as slhades fromi clo-(td land cast, Ain(l to Ite) ears like far-off winds that boom, HIlear(l. but scarce hleard, in this Area diai gl en' Weal', Shot thlliollil'itll imoonI-wIrouglt tis su.~s; far a ini near Woodtl, iiult, fiel(l -all Natture's face -\ expre~ssed wThe hlatuitiiig 1 )irsncce of enhlianite(l rest. One twiliglt star slhone like a )blissful te a t. Unislhe(l. Il ot llOW, w-lt ra,tvage( i i a fligllh,! Yox N-oodllain(l. like a humiinani miin(l, Ilath imanyv a plhase of dark and ]brigltt; .Now rdiam -itll s tli Io\-s, waii(lei t )lilin t id, NoN- i-adlial,t witl~ fair slial)es of light. i 195 i 4 , O-V-VE 71. 0 7'IIE TORV.-IDO. ei,est The seiiiblaiic(,, of a silvery i-obe (lid 0 I'HF, JI-OODLzl-VD PH —ISES. LEGENDS AND LYP ICS. Yoon mountain height fades in its cloud girt pall; The prostrate wood lies smirched with rain and miire; Through the shorn fields the brook whirls. wild and white; AWhile o'er the turbulent waste and woodland fall, Glares the red sunrise, blurred with mllists of fire! Let the songster trill, and the breezes sigh, Anid the suni weave crowns of his light i' the sky; She heeds tllem not, for a step is heard, And her soul leaps ui) like a startled bird - Her soul leaps up, but it is not fear: Hil e is cominig, sweet! hle is lhere! is here! And she flies to his bosom, (ah! panting dosve), And is folded home on the heart of love! THE gusty and passionate 3March hath died; And now in the golden April-tide There sits in the shade of her jasmine bower A maid more fair than an April flower. The delicate curv-e of her perfect mouth, AWhose tints tgrow warm in the fervid Soluthi, She stoops to press, as she murmurs low-,e On a note upraised in her hand of snow. EERILY the win d doth blow Tlhrouglh the woodland hollow; Eerily forlorn and low, Tremiulous echoes follow! Whence the low wind's tortured plaint? Burden hopeless, dreary, As the anguished tones that faint Down the Miserere. What word(ls are writ on the tiny scroll? What thoughts lie deep in the Imaiden's soul?o Oh, is it with bliss of her love she sighs? Is the light but love's in those shy brown eyes? Whence? From far-off seas its io aln! Darksome waves and lonely, Where the temnpest, overblown, Leaves a death-calhn only. So thinks the mock-bird trilling his lay On the trenmulous top of the lilac spray; He viewns the miaid, on his perch apart, And his song is meant for her secret heart. Thence it caught the awful cry Of some last pale sw~immiiier, O'er whose drowning brain and eye Life grows dim and dimimer So thinks the breeze, for its frolic free With the rose's stein, and the wing o' the bee It leaves, to sigh in the maiden's ear, "He is coming, sweet! he is almost here!'' So with pain the wind-heart sighls; Through its sad commiinotion Weary sea-tides sob, and rise Wailing hints of Ocean! So thinks the sun, for his ardent beams Grow miellow- and soft as a virgin's drealins, 196 Tlii-oiigli the vine-leaf shadows steal coy ly down, And she wears his light like a bridal cro'",n. 4 I-V'FHL' POIFEP,. IVHE.AT('!E? Ere the billows claim their prey, Settling stern and lonely. Where the stoi- 1-clouds, rolled,iway, Leave deatli-silence only! SONNET. Drearier grows the wind, more drea Echoes shuddering follow, Till a place of dooiii and fear Seemns that haunted hollow! "Uplift and bear me where the wild flowers grow, By many a golden dell-side, sweet and low." SON-E T. ENOUGH, this glimpse of splendor wed to Shrined in the sylvan Eden whence I shamie; camne. Enough this gilded misery, this bright O woodland water! 0 fair-whispering woe. pine! Pause, genial wind! that even here dost Loved of the dryad none but I have blow viewed! Thy cheerful clarion; and from dust O dew-lit glen, and lone glade, breathing and flame bahln, - The noonday pest, theniiight-enshrouded Receive and bless me, till this tumult blame, rude Uplift and bear me where the wild flow- Merged in your verdant solitudes di ers grow vine, By many a golden dell-side sweet and My soul once more liath found her an low, cient calm! 19I Ilist! oh hist! as spreads the mist, Wood and hill-slope'domnig, By no grace of starlight kissed, 'Mid the shadowy gloaming, 19S LEGENDS AND LYBICS. Nor wakes the soul to outward sound or T'IOLETS. "Rare wine of floweers." -FLETCHER. A GUSTY wind o' ersweeps the garden close, And, where the jonquil, with the white rod glow-s, IRiots like somie rude hoyden uncon trolle(ld. But here. where sunshine and coy shladows meet, Out gleam the tender eyes of violets sweet, Touched by the vapory noontide's fleeting gold. AWhat subtlest perfume floats serenely up! Ethereal wine that brims each delicate cup, Rifled by view-less Ariels of the air, And lo! rethinks from out these fair y flowers Rise the strange shades of half forgotten hours, Pale. tearful. mute, and yet, 0 heaven. holy fail! Yea. fair and miarvellous, gliding gently nigh., Somie with raised brows and eyes of con stancev. Fixed with fond meanings on a goal above. And some faint shades of weary, droop ing grace, Each withl a nameless pathlos on its face, Breathing of heart-break and sad death of love. Slowvly they vanish! while these odors steep Spirit and sense, as if in waves of sleep, MAyvsterious and Letlhean; languid streams Flowing through realus of twilight tho,ughlt apart, AWhereon the half-closed petals of the heart Pulse flower-like o'er a whispering tide of dreams: sight, Till, noonday beams declining, warm and light, A wood-breeze fans the dreamer's forehead caln; Who feels as one long wrapped from pain and drouth, By magic dreams dreamed in the fervid south, Beneath the golden shadows of the palhn. B Y THE GRA IE OF HE.NR? Y TIJIROD. nVHEN last we parted - thy frail hand in mine Above us smiled September's passion less sky, And touched by fragrant airs, the hill side pine Thrilled in the mellow sunshine ten derly; So rich the robe on nature's slow de cay, We scarce could deem the winter tide was near, Or lurking death, masked in imnperial grace; Alas! that autumn lday Drew not more close to winter's empire drear Than thou, my heart! to meet grief face to face! I clasped thy tremulous hand, nor marked how weak Its answering grasp; and if tlhine eyes did swimi In unshed tears, and on thy fading cheek Rested a nameless shadow, gaunt and dimi, - My soul Awas blind; fear had not touche d her sight To awful vision; so, I ba(le thee go, Careless, and tran(lllil as that treach erous omo wrb; Nor dreamed how soon the blight 198 LEGENDS AND LYRICS. BY THE GRAVE OF HENRY TIMBOD. Of long-implanted seeds of care would throw Their nightshade flowvers above the springing corn. Since then, full many a year hath rise n and set, WAithl spring-tide showers, and au tiinn pomps unfurled O'er gorgeouLs woods, and mountain walls of jet AWhlile love and loss, alternate, ruled the world; Till now once more we meet —imy friend and IOnce more. once more -and thus, alas! we meet Above. a rayless heaven; beneath, a grave; Oh, Christ! and dost thou lie Neglected here, in thy worn burial sheet? Friend! were there none to shield thee. none to save? Ask of the -winter winds scarce colder they 'Than that strange landc-thy birth place and thy tomb: Ask of the sombre clouLd-w-racks trooping gray, And grimi as hooded ghosts at stroke of doom; At least, the winds, though chill, with gentler sweep Seemn circling round and o'er thy place of rest, While the sad clouds, as clothed in tenderer guise, Do lowly bend, and weep ()'er the dead poet, in whose living breast I)tI11b nature found a voice, how sweet and wise! Once more we meet. once more -my friend and I Bult all! his hand is dust, his eyes are dark; tality, From out his heart lath crushed the latest spark Of that warm life, benignly bright and strong; Yet no; we have not met-my friend and I Ashles to ashes in this earthly prison! Are these, 0 child of song, Thy glorious self, heir of the stars and sky? TIhou art not here, not her,e, for thou hast risen! Death gave thee wings, and lo! thou lhast soared above All human utterance and all finite thought; Pain may not houlnd thee through that realhn of love, Nor grief, wherewith thy mortal days were fraught, Load thee again -nor vulture avant, that fed Even on thy heart's blood, wound thee; idle, then, Our bitter sorrowing; what though bleak and wild Rests thine uncrowned head? Known art thou now to angels and to men - Heaven's saint and earth's brave singer undefiled. Even as I spake in broken uLnder-breath The winds drooped lifeless; faintly struggling through The heaven-bound( pall, which secemed(l a pall of death, One cordial sunbeam cleft the opening blue; Swiftly it glanced, and settli]ng, softly shone O'er the grave's head; in that same in stant came From the near copse a bird-song half eart, said I, svine; ty nan "Heart," said I, " hush thy mioan, 199 Thy merciless wei,ht, tliou dread mor ILEGENDS AND LYRI,'CS. List the bird's singing, mark the heaven born flame, God-given are these- an omen and a sign! " A VOICE like the murmur of (loves, Soft lightning from eyes of blue; On her cheek a flushl like love's First delicate, rosebud hue; In the bird's song an omen his must live! In the warmi glittering of that golden )beaili, A sign his soul's majestic hopes survive, Laised to fruition oeri life's weary dr-ealn. 5o now I leave himi, lown, yet, rest ful hlee; So niiow I leave bin, highl-exalted, far Bel-ond all imem-ory of earth's guilt or guile:B Hark! tis his voice of clheer, Dropping, metliinks, from some inys terious star; His face I see, and on his face -a smile! dright torr ents of hazel hair, Whliclh, glittering, flow and float O'er the swell of her bosomn fair, And the snows of her matchless throat; Litle limbs of a life s o fi one, Tllat their rhyltliifiical motion seems Biut a part of the grace divine Of the music of haunted dreams; Low gurgling laughter, as sweet As the swallow's song i' the South, And a ripple of dimnples that, dancing, mneet By the curves of a perfect mouth; S 0 NNA E T. O creature of light and air! O fairy sylph o' tlhi' sun! liearts whviielhnied in the tidal gold of her hair Rejoice to be so undone! As one who strays from out some shlad owy glade, Fronting a lurid noontide, stern, yet bright, O'er mart and tower, and castellated hleighlt, Shrinks sloswly backward, dazed and half afraidSo I, whose household gods their stand have made Far from the populous city's life and ,lght,. Its roar of traffic and its stormy might, Shrink as I pass beyond my woodland shade. The wordy conflict, the tempestuous dill Of these vast capitals, on ear and brain Beat with the loud, reiterated swell Of one fierce strain of passion and of sin, Strange as in nightmare dreams the mad refrain Of some wild chorus of the vaults of Hell. TeFr gloriou s star of morning would we blame Because it burns not on the front of night? Or the calm evening planet, that her light Foretells not sunrise, with its herald flaiie? All things that are should subtly own the same, Eternal law! the stars shine on ariglht, Each in his sphere; the souls of Love and Migllt Their separate bounds of grace or grand eur claim; 200 ARIEL. "My daiilt, Ariel." - Tenipest. 0 s OVNE 71. TIHE CLOTUD-STAR. SWEE'HEART, GOOD-.BYE. Not on the low or lofty, great or small, Should justice fix for judgment; the true soul, Which s-wavs its own world in serene control, Highest or lumblllest - such the Master's call Shiall suramion upward, with its deep "well done," And the just Father croswn his faitlh ful sonl! Blind to that cloud, which growvns a star, Divinely bright, Waned in the deepening heavens afar, Till-lost in light! SWEETITEART, good-bye! Our varied day Is closing into twilight gray, And up from bare, bleak wastes of sea The northl-wind rises mournfully; A solemn prescience, strangely drear, Dothli haunt the shuddering twilight air; It fills the earth, it chllills the sky - Sweetheart, good-bye! FAR up withiin the tranquil sky, Far up it shonie; Floating lhow g enatly, silently, Floating alone! Sweetheart, good-bye! Our joys are passed, And night with silence comes at last; All things must end, yea,- even loveN or kn-,,ow we, if rebornii above, Tile hleart-blooims of our earthlly prime Shlall flower beyond these bouniids of time. " Ah! death alone is sure!" we cry Sweetheart, goodI-bye!' A sunbeam touchedl its loftier side W\ith deepeliing light: Then to its inmost soul did glide, Divinely bright. The cloud transfigured to a star, Thlro all its frame Throbbed in the fervent heavens afar, One pulse of flame: Sweetheart, good-bye! Throu,h mists and tears Pass the pale phantoms of our years, Once bright with springi, or subtly strong When suinmer's noontide thrilled with song; Now wan, wild-eyed, forlornly bowed, Each rayless as an autumn cloud Fading on dull September's sky Sweetheart, good-bye! One pulse of flame, which inward turned, A nd slowly fed On its own heart, that burned, and bLi'ned, 'Till alnost dead, The cloud still imaged as a star, Waned up the sky; WAVaned slowly, pallid, ghost-like, far, Wlholly to die; Sweetheart, good-bye! The vapors rolled Athwart yon distant, darkening wold Are types of what our world doth know Of tenderest loves of long ago; And thus, wheni all is done and said, Outr life lived out, 0o1r) passion dead, What can their wavering record be But tinted mists of mnemnory? Oh! clasp and kiss ine ere we die Sweetheart, good-bye! Bett di e s o gran dly in the sun The noonfire's breathMethinks the glorious death it won, Life! life! not death! Meanvwhile a million insect things Crawl oi below, And gaudy w-orms on fluttering wings Flit to and fro; 201 0 SWE,ETIIE,4P,T, GOOD-BYF,,! A SONG. 4 THE CLOUD-STIP,. -k F-A-BLE. LEGENDS AND LYPICS. Big with the wrath of tempests; yet his ('OMIPOSED ON A MARCH IORNING( INh TIIE WOOI)S. ThIIE winds are loud and truilpet-clear to-day; They seemi to sound an onset, half in ire, Half in the wildness of a vague desire To force spring's fairy vanguard to de lay; For here, roetlhinks, worn winter stands at bay, Yet stands how vainly! spring-time's subtlest fire Mlelts his cold heart to nothingness, while nigher Draw April hosts, and rearward powers of MalayA1ll maiden v-erdur-es, concords of sweet air, Stealinig as dawni steals gently on the world; Breezes, balmn-laden, blown froni dis tant seas, AWitli armies of blush-roses, dew-iim pearled, Till Earth reclaimed from winter's griii desp air Bloomis as once bloomed the fair Hes perides. lieart, Soft as the inner rose-leaves of the spring, PRichl with young life, and love's sweet blossoming, Too soon, alas! from life and love did part: Veiled was tlhe fate that smote hini; ulnawar e oWhat suiddeni, blasting dooiI had d(raawn so iieai-, A strange bliglht breathed upon liiin, and lhe die(l! On earth to die, in hleaven be glorified, Such was the MAlinstrel's portion; still lie went 'AcThrough all the heavenly courts in dis content An(l sombre grief, the pathlos of his wroe Risinig at tiimies to such wild overflow es forced its w ailftl utterance into soil, That passiolnate r ush of mIIusic(, the lheart's wrong Set to the sw eetness of lharmonlious clhor-ds, The All-Fatlier, O(in, o'er the (Ilasli of swords, And d(iin of lieroes feasting at tlhe boards Of loud Valhalla, heard: tlhereoni he soluglht This lonely soul, in highlest leaven o'er fi-aiglit AWitli miortal ineniouies. \\lilerefoir lift'st tlhoui llelre," The All-Fathier aske(l,'these lneasures of (despair? "Because imy imiortal I,ov(e'," the l'oet said, "With time grows gray and wrinkled; on her lhea(d, So golden brighit in youthi's b)enignant pwriC l s e, Chill fr-osts of ate have left their lhoary imiiiiee; FlRIDA AN4'D HER POET. A BRAV-E young poet born in days of Eld, Dwelt'mid the frozen -Northlands; lie behleld, And wondering, sulllg the marvels of the ice, The swirl of snow-flakes, and the quaint device AWroiiglit on the fir-trees by the glitteringi sleet; And loved on stormly heights, cloud-girt, to greet The gray ger-falcon towering o'er the sea; To watcli the waves, and iiark the clou(l drifts flee, 202 ,5 O-V-V-E T. I i I I I I I FRIDA ANVD HER POE 7T. Her eyes are dimmied, her soft cheeks' rosy red Ilathli with the flowers of many a spring time fled; And so wvhen Heaven shall claim her ahl! the painl! - I shall not know mine earthly love again!' To w-homi the God, "But dotli she love thee still? " Her love, like mine, nor years, nor change can kill," The Minstrel answered: "Faith, a cease less shower, Keeps fair and bright our love's immac ulate flower." I loose thy heavenly bonds,- I bid thee go! " Thle All-Fathler cried, "and seek thy Love below! " To earth hlie came: drear waste and flow ery lea Beheld his search'mid fettered folk and free; Yet all his toils but brought the direful stress Of lone heart-yearning, grief and weari ness, Till hope died out and all his soul was dark. At last, when aimless as an autumn leaf Borne on November's idle winds afar, He roamed a sea-beach wild, by moon or star Unlighlted in its dreariest hour of grief And desolate longing, on his eyes a spark Of tiny radiance through the clouded night Flashed from a cottage window on a height, Next the dim billows of the moaning main. There broke a sudden lightning on his brain Of prescient expectations — then, before Its glow could fade, lie trod the cottage floor, And saw in tattere d r aimen t, twa and dead, An ancient wi thered woma n on a bed, Of whom a crone, as sh runk almost as she, Said with drawn lips and blinkisng wearily "Lo! here thine old Love! las t t hou come so far To find how cares may blight us, death may mar? " As ebbs a flood-tide, so his eager breath Sank slowly. " Oh, the awful front of death! " He moaned. " Yet wherefore shudder? Thou, my love, Art precious still; nor shalt thou Lmove above, An alien soul, albeit no longer fleet, Nor fair, thou roam'st through Heaven with tottering feet, Bent, aged form, and face bedimmeed by tears; I only ask to know thee, while the years Eternal roll! " He bids a last farewell To this world's life, again prepared to dwell On heights celestial, in whose golden airs The heart, at least, shall shed earth's wintry cares, And blooming, breathe the vernal heats of Heaven. Twice ranso med soul! tho u spir it that hast striven With countless ills, and conquered all thy foes, Rise with the might of morning, the repose Of moonlit night, and entering Heaven once moreBehold! who first doth meet thee by the door, 203 LEGENDS AND LYRICS. With smiling brow, and gently parted lips, And eyes wherein no vestige of eclipse From pain, or death, or any evil thing, Lies darkly, but whose passionate triumphing, In peace attained, and true love crowned at last, Ilath such rare joy and sweetness round her cast, She seems an angel on the heights of bliss. And yet a mortal maid'twere heaven to kiss! To whom the singer, in a voice that seems Vague, and half-muffled in the mist of dreams: - "Art thou the little Frida that I knew So long - alh! long ago? Thine eyes are ble, Deep blue like hers, and brimmed with tender dew, Through w-hichl love's starlight smiles art thou, in sooth, The sweet, true-hearted Frida of my youth?" The merciful gods havem de made this wise decree: - Lore, in t he aven's tonwgte, iteans iminor tality Of youth akod joy; then, wheresoe'er we go, Loving and loved through these high courts divine, Miine eyes eternal youth shall drink from thinie; And thou forevermore shalt find in me The tender maid who walked the world with thee, Thy little Frida, loved so long ago!" $ ]'.I TEXIS TEXCE. AWHILE sauntering through the crowded street, Some half-remnemiibered face I meet, Albeit upon no mortal shore That face, inethinks, hath smiled before. Lost in a gay and festal throng, I tremble at some tender song Set to an air whose golden bars I must have heard in other stars. In sacred aisles I pause to share The blessings of a priestly prayer When the whole scene which greets mine eyes In some strange modle I recognize As one whose every mystic part I feel prefigured in my heart. At sunset, as I calmly stand, A stranger on an alien strand Familiar as my chil(lhood's home Seems the long stretch of wave and foam. One sails toward me o'er the bay, And what he comes to do and say She drew more closely to the poet's side, And nestling her small hand in his, replied, As half in tremulous wonder, half delight:"I act thy little Frida, in thy sight Fair once, and well beloved - Ah me! ah me! Hast thou forgotten?" "N ay; but whose" (quoth he, ) "Yon withered corse, on which I gazed below, With pale shrunk limbs, and furrowed face of woe? Thy corse, thy face, they told me!" " Yea, but know, O Love! that earth, and things of earth, are past: That here, where, soul to soul, we meet at last, I 204 "While sauntering through the crowded street. Some half-remembered face I meet." S'O-\7VET.-A THOUSAND }EARS FPRO1 NOW. And mighty voices, calling on thy Ialnie: Then dost thou rise, exultant, thrilled, inspired, Thy song a clarion lay,that stirs our time, Hot from the soul some secret god hliath fired! I can fro s ie oretell. A presient lore Springs froIm some life outlived of yore. O swvift, instinctive, startling glearms Of deep soul-knowvledge! not as (ti-ectii s For ave ye vawi Lely clanin andt die, Blut oft witlh liglhtning, certainty Pierce throughl the (lark, oblivious brain, To make old thoughts and memories plain - I SAzT within mly tranquil roonm; The twvilight shadows sank and rose With slowly flickering miotions, w-aved Grotesquely thllroughl the dusk repose; There caine a sudden thlought to ine, fWhich thlrilled the spirit, flushed the brow - A dream of h-lat our world would be A thousand years from now! Thoughts which perchance must travel back Across the wild, bewildering track Of countless c onis; memoliies far, High-reaching as yon pallid star, Ilnknown,-n scarce seen, whose flickering grace Faints on the outmiost rings of space! If science on lher heavenwair(l search, Rolling the stellar clarts apart, Or delving lhour by hlour to win The secrets of earthl's ilnmost hleartIf that her futLire apes lher past, To -what new marvels men must bow, Maiv-els of land, and(l air and sea, A tlhousand years fromii now! FAIl Mluse. beloved of all, thou art no high Imperious goddess of the mount or ult a sweet maiden of the pastoral plain. To w-honi the lihum of bees, the west ,i-iiid's sigh, The lapse of waters mmurimuring, tran quilly, Comlle, like soft music of a May-tide direamii. Yet. times there are when some imperial themle, Born of a stormy sunset's marvellous sky. And heralded by thunder and fierce flame, Sweeps o'er thy vision with a mien sub lime. If empires hold their wonted course, And blind republics will not stay To count the cost of laws wlichl lead I Ilnerring to the State's decay - Wlat change s vast of realm and rlule, The low uipraise(l, the proud laid low, Shall greet the unborn ages still, A thousand years from now! Our creeds may change with mello)we(l times Of nobler hope, and love increase(l And some new Advent flood the world In glory from the haunted EastWhile souls on loftier heights of faith May mark the mystic pathway grow Clearer between their stand and heaveni s, A thousand years from now! 205 0 A THOU,5AiVD FlOll NOII 1 5 0 -V-VE- T. TO LEGENDS AND LYRICS. These things iin(ay be! but what, per force, Muist with the ruthless epochs pass? The millions' breath, the centuries' pomp, Sure as the wane of flowers or grass; The earth so rich in tombs to-day, There scarce seems space for death to Who, who shall count her churchyard wealth A thousand years from now? A fierce wind clove the billows urged afar With vengeful rhythm toward the west ern star, Just risen beyond a gaunt gray cypress tree. Then twilight waned in cloud-descend ing, night, The sole star died, as if some phantom hand Wiped out its radiance; in the void pro found The wind and waters (blended in one soulnd, Awful, mysterious), with invisible might Thrilled the blank heavens, and smote the affriglhted strand! And we —poor waifs! whose life-term seems, When mnatched with atfter and before, Brief as a summer wind's, or wave's, Breaking its frail heart on the shore, We- human toys - that Fate sets up To smite, or - spare I marvel how These souls shall fare, in what strange spher e, A thousand years from now? AT vmidnighlt wakening, through my s tartl ed brain The sudden thunder crashed a chord of pain; Too vague, too faint for mortal ken That far, phantasmal future lies; But sweet! one sacred truth I read, Just kindling in your tear-dimmned eyes, That states may rise, and states may set, With age earth's tottering pillars bow, But hearts like ours can ne'er forget, And though we know not tWhere, nor Our conscious love shall blossom yet, A thousand years from now! I rose, and, awe-struck, hearkened. O verhead In one long, loud, reverberant peal of dread, So, half-reluctant, up the heights of space The refluent thunder softened into grace, Its deep, harsh mnenace changed to mur mnurs low As the lost south wind's, mnuffled in the snow; I STOOD in twilight by the winter's sea; The spectral tides with hollow, hungry roar, Broke massed and mighty on the shrink ing shore. The sea-birdls wailed; the foam flew wild and f ree. Ruthless as fate, upborne victoriously, Thus'minded am Ila of that law of old Which down the slopes of awful Sinai rolled, 206 0 THU-YDEP, A T ITID-YIGHT. Ceaseless it rolled, till as a sea of fire, The climax gaiiie(l, must ",ave by wave retire; 0 SO - AINF, T. Waiiilig tllrotigh whisperous echoes less and less Till the last eelio sleeps in gentleness. ON THFE )EATII OF CANON KIINGSLEY. Smnote mnen withl judgmient terrors; yet, at last, The liglhtning flanie and mystic tumrult passed, Lapsed (down the ages, echoing less and less Jehov-ali's wratlh, till, changed to tender hiess, The vengeful law, whichl once man's fatithl sufficed, MIelts into miercy on the lheart of Chlrist! Still, hero-priest! born out of thy due time - Thou slhould('st have lived when on thine England's so(d Giants of faithl and seers of freedom trod, Daring all things to break the ol)ppressor's rod. Great in thine own age, tlihou hladst been sublime In their-s-that age of fervent, fruitful breath, When, scorning treachery, aim (lefyinig death, Her true knights gilt thlei loved Eliza beth, Seeing on lher the centuries' hopes were set; Then hladst tlhou lang,ed with lRaleigh land and sea, Bible and sworid in hand, gone forth with .Leigh, The tyrant smote, thle heathen folk made free! Yea! but to God and grace thlou hlast paid tlhy debt, In measure scarce less glorious and com plete iThan thleirs who beard(le(l on his chosen seat The bloody Antichrist; or, fleet to fleet, Thundered tlhroughl storims of battle wrack and fire At Britain's Salamis; * the heroic strain Ran purpling all thy nature like a vNein Oped from God's heart to thine; the lof tiest plane Of thliought and action, purpose and desire Thou trod'st on triumphing; thy Vi king,'s face Showed granite-willed, yet softened into grace By effluence of good (leeds, thle angelic race Allud(iiig to the defeat of the " lIvincible Arllliaa." OX- THE I-)EA TIt OF C,4-AO_V KILXGSLE }\ i[ORPTALS there are nho seem, all over, flame, Vitalizecl radiance, keeni, intense, aiid high, Whose souls, like planets in a dlolminant sky, Burn w-ith full forces of eternity: Such was his soul, and such the light w-hich came From that pure heaven he lived in; ho liest -orth Of will and work was his, to brighten earth, Heal its foull wounds, and beautify its dearth. He dwvelt in clear white purity apart, Yet walked the world; through many a sufferer's door He shone like morning; comfort streamed before His footsteps; on the feeble and the poor He lavished the rich spikenard of his heart'. Christ's soldier! To his trumpet-call he sprung, Eager, elate; valiant of pen and tongue, Grand were the words he spake, the songs he sung. ,.)07 Do yout tlink that the patter of tiay feet Shall never come b)ack again., Anid that those whomi the 1'rage of Deathi lha(l kill(el Are inii sooth forever slain? LI,ook up)! look l)p! as the llo)e coin iilaii(ts, From tlhe ruttlh of tlhe angels woIn; The earthl-woe fa(les like a d(ream o' tl1e light,e 11 1tlsi a(110 Whien all hias 1b(een said andi( doine Jf-ItlE_V A-LL J1f_4,' PEE-, II0lD n VD DO. To IilCAilI) IEL l~Y ToIT~))I)AII1I). ti reply to his poei calleld " W ishing d HIav-inig.") " Perhlaps it w-ill all colme right at last r It mliay- be, e-lne ll 00is l o inie, WVe shlall be togetlher iin soile good(I worl(l, A5llhere to w i.shl atind to hactc:ire (me." - S, lOD1)AI I~). 0 F:IENI)! be sure thlat a spirit camie, In the glooin of youtr sa(l(dlene(d hlour, To )lanit that lhope in your hopeless hleart, Like tlle seed of all Edleni flower. The seed ulay rest iiin -outr broodling breast, Half stifled in col( andi nighlt, Or 1)e only felt as a yearllillg dliir Tow-ard coniforting peace ai(1 light; But'twill buLrst some day ilto perfect And( friuitiou be brighlltly wono; For thle earthl-life fades like a dream0 y o' tlhe dlark AWhen all lhas been said and donie! O God, wve wand(ler in devious ways, Till the e (l comes, stern aind stark; AVe lift our voices of useless wail Fromf the d(lepths of the holl ow dlark; Yet the C1Irist is tlhere, thouglh we see hiiim not. Blut onlv whel(nll Sorrow0V low\,er s AWildest, w- feel tlhrouiglh the hollow dar-k A strang(e,, wai-iii hiand(l in ouri-s; Aind a voice is lheard iii thle muSiC of heae t-tll Sayilng:' (!ouit-age anid( lhope, O, SoIl!? The eartl-w-oe fades like a dreaii o' the night, Wheni all lias been said aiid donie! The earthl-life fades in its sin and pain; Buit -whlatev-er of sw-eet and pure Breathled over its pallor and flushed its gloom.iJ Sutrvivethl for evermiore. O. nlot as the hlost of a imortal joy, Btit as Joy herself froin the dead Upraised to the clear., calmi courts of Head-eln. AVitlh a lhalo arounid her h!ead; AMHII) thle loveliest of all lonely vales, uColuche(l iii soft silences of lnoulntain cal y wb, Aiid broadly slhadoN-ed botlh by pille aii,l )alIn, + TH1 I'ISIO-N' I'HE 1,ALLEY'. 7'i, AR,CTIC T'ISI'AiN'10S. ()'er -whichl a tremuLlouLs golden vapor sails Forever, though Inubreatlied onl by a breeze Or anyv wind of heaven, serenely sleeps A ltcid( founitain. fromli whose fathomii less deeps (Come inriuiniitis stiranger than the twi light sea's. That goldein vapor, buoyed witlhout a breath, Tints to its oWnl fair b)looImi the limipid tide, 'llroughl whichll erewhile the solemn vision rose Of a calmn face, benignly glorified 1v all we dream or yearn for of pure rest, I'rofound, Lethlean, passionless repose. fStill through the silence miiystic mlur lmurs sighled, Fratiglit Nitlh far imieanings, vague and unexpressed, Till at the last, upbreatlling, weird and near, Tle voice of that pale phantom thllrilled nielle earBehold( tho f,Nce, the m~aierellots face, (?f I)eqth!" Death-wani she lay,'neatlI heavens as cold and pale; A11 nature drool)pe(l toward darkness and despair; The dreary woodlandls, and the omninous air Were strangely lhauinted by a voice of wail. The woeful sky slow passionless tears did weep, Each shivering rain-drop frozen ere it fell; The woo(diuaii's axe rang like a mufled knell; Faintly the echoes answered, frauglht with sleep. The dawn seemed eve; noon, dawn eclipsed of grace; The evening, night,; aInd tender night be canle A formless void, thlroglh,i which no starry flaiime Touched the veiled splendor of her sor rowful face; Like mourning nuns, sad-robed, fune real, bowed, Day followed day; the birds their qua vering notes Piped here and there from feeble, quer ulous tlhr-oats. Fierce cold beneath - above, one riftless clouid Wrapped the mute world -for now all winds had diedAnd, locked in ice, the fettered forests gave No sign of life; as silent as the -rave Gloomned the dim, desolate landscape far and wide. Gazing on these, from out the mnist one day I saw, a shadow on the shadowy sky, What seemed a phantom bird, that fal tering niih,l $ THE ARCTIC I'LSITA4TOo t. o.OE air-born genius, wvith malignant mouth, Breathed on the cold cloudcs of an Arctic Zlle~ltl zone-s a de ocean blown .Swept threatening, vast, toward the amazed Soutlh: Over the land's fair form at first there stole A vanward host of vapors, wild and m-asdite; Then loomied the main cloud cohorts, mi-assed in mi-iiht, Till earth lay corps e-like, reft of life and soul, 209 Perched by the i-oof-tree on a withered spray; LEUGENDS AND LYIU,ICS. With drooping breast he stood, and drooping head; This fateful time had wrought the min strel w-rol,ng; Even as I gazed, our southland lord of sonig Dropped through the blasted branches, breathless. dea(l! Yet chillier grew the glray, worldl-haunt ilg shiade. Through wh-licll roetlho-ughlit, quick, tremulous wings were heard; Was it the ghost of that heartbroken bird Bound for a land where sunlight cannot fade? power Comes on the ilmighty waftage of his w'illgs; Sense of fresh hope and faith's re kindled glow, The awakened aim, the brain drawn tense and high, To shoot its fiery thoughts against the sky, Like arrows launched from some deft archler's bow! All latent forces of our being start To marshalled order, ranged in battle line, While the roused life-blood with a thrill divine Runs tingling thro' the chambers of the heart. Summer is rich with dreams of languid tone; Octobe r sunsets feed the soul with light; But give )ile winter's war wind in his might, O'er the scourged lands and turbulent oceans blown. THE VISIT OF -A[IAttIO(UD BEN' SU LE,IMTO?' l AR,ADiSE. BENEATII tlhe shadow of a breezeless palhn Mahmoud Ben Suleimi, in the evening calin, Sat, with his gravely meditative eyes Turned on the waning wonder of the skies; What time beside him paused a brother sage, Whose flowing locks, like his, were white with age: Hi s gaze a half-veiled fire, seemed sadly cast Inward, to scan the records of his past THE JVLVND OF ONSET. WITHII potent north winds rushing swiftly down, Blended in glorious clhant, on yester night Old AWiinter came with locks and beard of awhlite. The hoarfrost glittering on his ancient crow n:ih He sent his icy breathings through the pane, Hle raved and rattled at the close-shut doors, Then waned with hollow murmur clown the moors, To rise, revive and sweep the world again. The choruts of great winds which gird him round Hold aniay voices - the deep trumpet's swell, The air hlarp's mournful burden of fare well, The fife's shrill tones, the clarion's silvery sound: But o'er the roof-tree,'round the gable rings Loudest his wind of onset, hour by hour, 211) Till a iiew sense of almost rapturous "On yesternight Old Winter camne with locks and beard of white." T-1,SIT OF -1JAHHIIOUD BEN SULEIM'O 1',lP ADi,B'E. t fhicl in the long-goue time of yottli did seem To rise before Ine in a twilight dreamii. Mletliouglit the life on earth had passed away, That near nme spread the new, iiimmortal slay Of Paradise; but yet mine eyes lookedl back On this our clouded world, and iiarked tie track Aly waninig life-course still left glimmi-er ing there. lBehlold! all dues of ftuneral dole andl wAline hleirs had paid me; through tlhe cypress looln I saw the glitter of my new-miade tomilb, Whliereoni so miany a blazoned virtue shonie, A b)lush seemed gatlhering o'er the hlar (deel(d(I stoll(e, And I, albeit a spirit, flushed with shanleI(. Nathless, just then to Eden gates I camle, And, at the outmost wii(ket tlludl(ering loud, eeSuinionedl full soon1 all angel from the clodl(I WVhiclh girds those heavenly portals, blelnt wN-itlh m-ist Of shifting rainbow arcs of amethyst, Who, somewhat lharslhly for an angel, said I knocked as if an hlundred thousand dead, kNot onc poor soul, besieged the heavenly door. lHe raised his luIminous hands, which hovered o'er For a briiif iiionieiit, like a flashl of stars, The sapphire l)brilliance of the circling lbar-s, Then on1 b)y onic unclosed them. En tereld in The realhni celestial, safe from paiin and Sill, I'elrchaiice the past of imian - and thelnce to drawd Froim far experience, sanctified by a-we O)f (;od's myivsterious N-ays, som-e hinit to tell W\-ho of the (lead in heav-eni and -who in hell DN-elt now in endless bl)iss or endless bale. 'iTus. while lie imused, the old mian's face grew Ipale Aithl stringentt imemories: on his labor ign thought Vague speculations, din and doubtful, wr-ioughit t'Fiom out the fragments of the vanished years. At lelnglth lhe said Ben Suleim. lendc thinie ears T'o that I fain would ask thee. Thlou art w-ise In sacred lore, in pure philosophies; ,so tell mne now tliine inmi-ost thought of hlea-veii And heavenl's fair habitants."' "Whoe'er hatlh striven," Ben Suleimi answered, to the extremest ver-ge -Of spiritual pow-er, across death's dreary surge HIatli passed to find the fathomless peace of God!" Yea,"' quoth the other, smitinlg on the sod His staff impatiently. I knowv! I know! But -whlo of all ice have seen or loved below Thiink'st thou in Aidenn? " SloN-ly fr-omn his lips, Wrapped by the smioke-w-reaths in a half-eclipse, Ben Sutleimi's pipe was lowered: "' ly friendc." said lhe, " Hark to this vision of eternity, 211 LEGEN-DS AN!) LJYRIS. I stretched( at ease, withli shadows cool and dime Floatiii about me, thus did question ~Fair Seial)lp. speak. Is not this land divine. I'ife w-itli pure souls. once faitllful friends of iille?' 'Nay! be content if wandering ihere and there, Thou imeet'st a fent-none in the loftiest sphere.' ' Ahliere. then.' I cried,' is holy Ibn ~ecarit? If not the highest he, surely not far Bieneatli the highest that clear spirit beaimis?' 'Ah! thou art miLffled still in earthly (dr-eanls,' The angel answered.'If on h1im tlihou'dst call, P((ass,]oti'tccr, for he's not in Ileaven at all!' 'I)r-ead Allal! can it be? So just a man alked( not, inethlought, the streets of Ispalhain. -Lorni aftel' lornI, year after year his feet, Alike in siummier's bloom an(dl winter's sleet, l3ore him to waorship in the sacred place; Ahliat righteous zeal burned hotly in his face! And when inspired his heavenly vows lie made. Or'neatli the innermost mosque devoutly praye(ld WVhy, ev-en the roaring Dervish, robed and cow-led, Shrank froni those pious lungs, which alliost howled Creation (leaf. A saint we deemed him one Pure as the snow, yet ardent as the sun. lVho, not content with turning toward the litslt His own blest feet, must set on paths of right gel crie(l; 'But Ibn Bec'2r, down to tlhe (lay lie died, Kept on his neighlbor's ways so keen an eye Ile lost at lenigthll Iis own straight course thler eby; And though tlhe pturblind world liatli gull(ss(e(l it ]l()t, lle bides in ll)Iis' killgdom; fierce and hot The waves of Ilades roll above him nov.' Amazed, I I)owve(I my lhea(l, just whisper inig low An'All(th Kelt)(),.' Next:'Ilow fares it, tll(>ii,' I asked,'w itlh IIafiz, the wise scribe, wh-liose pell Signed Iniany a (I((eed(I of gift, andl scored his niamiie tligh on tlle oll of (liarital)le ol]earts?' Clear caiii- tlli aiisweie:' " Ii(I thy public miarts No soul more soidid stiove with lieavei to drive Its wicked bargains. Largely wolill he give To general charities; lbut, sootlh to say, Wlhenie'er lie'sCal)(el thl I)roa st, bright gaize of day, IlIe stampedI with criel lie(l tle w rithing pool, Would tll-n tl(i p I)(islling l)eggar from liI,;s ( oor1, And vwri-ng fi'oiii tfii(ill(le(ss Nwi(lows the last t IIst Saved for- their lialf-s tarve(I children. (-"o(I is jlsts So ltafiz dwells lnot laere.' In faltering tone, As dropped fromii onie wlho deals with tlhingi,s 11mllmn, I questioned,l ne(wxt:'Alb)dallah, he is save(I?' 'Nay; for,:dimit witli seeming truth he braved 212 A-11 ei-i-iiig bi-etlireii!'' the an T-1VIIT ()F AlLAH.llIOUD BENV S ULE,ll 7'0 PA.,ADIS~E. But sanlg of that whereof he shiall not taste.' ' Just Allah!' sighed( I,' see what barren waste Drinks up mIy hopes. Since none of all I namied Here for the sacred roll lhath Allal claimledl, I pray thee tell me whoii, his will hliath blessed.' ' I)ost thou riemnember Sa,idi?'' What, that w-retchl llWho shodl the Bactrian caniels-who wN-o0(ull fetch Strange oathls fromi far to sow our whole sollie ahi With moral poison?'True, the man did sw-ear,' Confessed the lBliglht One, sadly.'Yet so strong His p en itent sorrow o'er the hateful wrong Done his own solll, and pllad, and so r-ife With tireless effort his whol e earnest life To sbnite the giaf t teM pters in hi s soul, To kill thesmg outright, or with firm con - trol Hold tlhemi in native darkness chained and cowve(dAt last he con(luered and our Lord al low-ed His weary soul to quaff the founts of baln!' Amazemnent held rne dumb. Within the palihn Waving above, just then a whispering breeze PRose, and passed up the long-ranked, radiant trees Which lineed the hills of heaven. It seemed a sighI Born of soft Mlercy's inmmiyortality Wafted toward the throne! The Bright One then, Lifting his voice harmonious, spake again: Teini)tation, and each w-ise and sacred saw W-roulght fI'olll the precepts of our prophllet's law.a Fell soft as IIybla's honey from his mouth. Yet lis wh-lole nature w-itheredcl in the (Ib0oiitli drou~tthatwec Of (ldreai lh-pocrisy. By steasltll ie dread so tron Strong waters of the Giaour, and nigtly sought Otfi)iNiol from sweet opi at es of the South. Sicikness hlie feigoed, to gai n in these his CIti e: AWhd ofl(a'. that he w i glt tipple more and mor e. TIon-ed n t o l i)rovin,e Hife wsitlo serpents dreadl. Because. I)v such as knew his wN-iles, tw-as said He dranki the poison of eachl treaclhier otus tlroat, To seek in llfieri v-iein a n antidote. Nathlless.t a serpent sle w himl, an d his hoein Is far from otirs.' AIle tlioulgo ts b egan to roar i t AVagtel. in loose di s order. Yet again: Wrl hat of Kpalhkai, Wfe liwe hose songs of pain And joy alike forever st ruck the key, The undler-r ote of golden pariity, Virtue his theme and heavenly love his 11IUse?' 'Tlhou fool and blind! IKalkarri could not choose But sing miellifluous verses; yet in him The li;,ht of truth wvas alwvays blurred and dim. A tireless trick of tinkling rhymes he had, And naught lie cared what spirit, good or bad, O'erruled his lay. The good, perchance, 1)(ti(l best; Theirefo)e he sang of heavenly joy and rest, 213 '214 LL(4ENP$ AND ]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~YA~~~~~~~~~~I(1k~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~ 'Ferdusi, the small merchant by the For Agha's blood a furious torrent ran; Half brutal lie, half tiger and(l half Inall, In health and power, the body's lustful force, Whose strengthli to fetter in its turbulent course Had taxed an angel's will. His nature sore Tormented him; yet o'er and o'er and o'er From some vast fall hlie lifted prayerful eyes, And like a Titan strove to sto)iii the skies, Which, through unequalled strife and triavails passedl, His lhero-soul hath grandly won at last! No more! no more! the glorious pres ence said. 'In light to come thy knowledge per fected Shall bloomn in flower and fruit; but, Su leiiii, say, Hast thlou behleld the swift sky-rocket's lay Burn up the heavens? How beautiful at first Its splendors gleamed, too soon, alas! to buirst And die in outer darkness! Thus it is With many a soul, soaring, men dreaim, to bliss. Awhile they mount, clear, dazzling, drunk with light, To sink in ruin and the desolate night. Would'st know the true believer? JHec is one Whose faith in deeds shines perfect as the sun. Ilis sotl, (a shaft feathered by iVocks of gr(ece, Detath, the (iris archer, launches forth in space; It cleaves the clouds, o'ershoots the va porosts wall That twaves'twixt earth and heaven its mnystic pall, quays Too poor to give, but with a heart as broad As the broad sky, reverent of faith and God; Islal-ed-Din. who, though hlie could not make The comiiioiiest prayer, would yet ex claim Am-iieni! To those -whlo (lid, so wsarmlily, for the sake Of truthl and fervent worshlip, all might see Ilis generous spil'it's large sincerity Bothl th.ese are with us,' ' But Alassaf,' said I, The blameless teacher, who rmetllinks came nigh Virtue as pure as frail lumanity On earth may compass?' Yea; his soul i.s; here, But his soul wanders in the humblest sphere. For, mark thee, though no daminning sin did stain This Wassaf's record, still in blood and brain So weak was he, his pale life-currents flowed So like dull streamlets through a wan abode Of windless deserts, that he lived and died Ne'er by a sharp temptation terrified; And if his course the Prophet's law ful filled 'And near his path all passionate gusts were stilled, 'What credit to him?. His to coldly live, Act, fade -a creature tamely negative. But lo! in flaming contrast the hot stir Of Aglia's fate - Agha, the flute player, (Gl,utton on earth, wine-bibber, and the rest, Ile still is held in heaven a nobler guest Than all your AVassafs - proper, crimne less. cool, And soulless, alnost, as a stagnant pool, I 214 LEG],,'-N-DS -,4iVD LYI"]CS. I i II I imouth, A\ per-fect rosebud of tlle souitlh, Iii(I the broad b)row-. as sioothl to-dclay As whenl on life's anispicious Alay I clasped( her to an ar(ldent breast W-itli yearniiing,s of divine ulirest. I vol tllat I r)ellold lhe r face, tlear lher low tones, and( mark lher miien So geintle, virginal, sereine, (Clearly, as if lher voice anid brow, Ini softest sootlh, I)egulile(l lIe n'low; As if, inicaruate and l)enigu, Slh e l)aced lheri little esand( in w it y n e. Andl lher long IImidniglit tl'esses rar-e Were ]minglinig witlh my snow-touelhed lhair. A1(1 yet slhe on-ly lives for me Ini gol(len realms of faiitasic, At creature born of air and beaim, The cdelicate darling of a dreamii. T'lhou liast tlhy motlerl's voice, as lowa niil soft as happy wvinds that blo-w At sl)rillgtiiiie o'er the wx-ild-bl]ooimi b)eds, Wllenii the )lute liarebells lift their hleads l'o liealrkeii to those strains of lpeace, \uil thliougli the lustrouLs day's decease I)rilk in tile stunset-b)eaius that float I)ownwiiard(l froiii glittering airs reiiote. 'lio'liu last lthvy miothler's heart, no less Tliaii all lier l)ody' s loveliness- heart as firmuly brave and true, ()' er-l)rllullilm ii now w-itlh'norning devw Of liolpefutl lighlit as dotli a flower; Yet strowng t o iOeet wmiisfortuie's lhour, And(I for tile sake of lovinig ruth Lie (lown-ni and peierislh in its votl. Air, well I know- tle( re(ason whly They called lher b)y lthat graceful namie: Shle seems a creatiue Iborn witlh wings, O'er whlicl a ioaintl)o sl)ifiit flings Fair hues of softlv slhiftinig flamii(e; Liglht is slhe as the changeftul air. Borlne o01 gay 11111Io1s everywh-liez e. Bewitcleiiigly. (-'lild! cllild! so fair, so good( tlihoiL art, Soiietimies an awful pang my heart Ilierces as thuts I gaze on thlee. Too rare a thingi tlhou seem'st to be Long inii this barren w-orld to smiile; MIetlihiks, w-ith miany a heavenly wile, IUnseen. but felt, thlle ang,els stray Near thee, to temlpt thly soul away. Her soul lhatlh seldom breathlied a,siglh; No hiint of care hiatlh ever stirre(d Her being; sunsline anid the breeze Have beenl the fairy witnesses Of all those joys our lappy bir(l Hatl from thl e gol(leli fountains drawn Of youth unsullie(d as tlhe (lawn, So lavishly~ Oh! hleed tlleiii not. Wlhy shlould( they cIy oe seet ossoi Ileae is fll My one swXeet bulossoml? Iteavenl is ful * ttso *1-11t1" ".. I J..U1, 1.1tt1 0 OUIR "HUJIl"NG(,-BH:~'D." I L~GENDS AND LYRICS. Full many a flower, just hovering nigh, In life's broad garden, rife with sweets, She deftly drains of nectar dew; Then, sylph-like, sweeps o'er pathways new To taste some balmier bliss she meets; Now flashing fast through myrtle bowers, Now clinging to red lips of flowers, Capriciously. Of fancy, on fro m dr eam to dream: Vaini are a lover's tears or smiles To check her flight bewildering, To talie her soul, or chain her wing Submissively. Nay! let the dazzling fairy fly Froui flower to flower, so gladly whirled; Cruel it were her matchless light By one rude touch to dimi or blight, To see her luminous pinionis fu,'led In grosser airs than those which stray Round the fresh rosebuds of the May, Deliciously. Forbear, rashli heart! forbear to try Our bird to capture with your wiles, For, lo! she glimmers like a beam 216 LATER POEMS. I I I I 11, I I I dI ii I I i I I I i I i I I l' LATER POEMS OF IMAGINATION, SENTIMENT, AND DESCRIPTION. For sacred haunts our queenly mother loves; By fi, Id and flood, Thro' nei iboring realms, and regions f i dsay, Have I not followed, followed where she ledl, Tracking wild rivers to their fountain head, And wilder desert spaces, mournful, vast, Where Nature, fronting her inscrutable past, Holds bleak communion only with the dead; Yearning meanwhile, for pinions like a dove's, To waft me further still, Beyond the compass of the unwinged will; Yea; waft me northward, southward, east, or west, By fabled isles, and undiscovered lands, To where enthroned upon his moun tain-perch, The sovereign eagle stands, Guarding the unfledged eaglets in their nest, Above the thunders of the sea and storm? I CAN-NOT tell when first I saw her face; Was it athwart a sunset on the sea, When the huge billows heaved tumul tuoiisly, Or in the quiet of some woodland place, Wrapped by the shadowy boon Of breezeless verdures fromn the summer noon? Or likelier still, in a rock-girdled dell Between vast mountains, while the midnight hour Blossomed above me like a shining flower, Whose star-w-rought petals turned the fields of space To one great garden of mysterious light? Vain! vain! I cannot tell When first the beauty and majestic might Of her calm presence, bore my soul apart From all low issues of the grovelling world; About me their own peace and gran deur furled, Filling the conscious heart With vague, sweet wisdom drawn from earth or sky, - Secrets that glance towards eternity, Visions divine, and thoughts ineffable! Oh! sometimes by the fire Of holy passion, in me, all subdued, And melted to a mortal woman's mood, Tender and warm,She, from her goddess height, In gracious answer to my soul's desire, But ever since that immemorial day, A steadfast flame hath burned in brain and blood, Urging me onward in the perilous search UNJIEILED. LAI'L'.I' POEMS. Descending softly, lifts her Isis veil, To bend on mie the untranslated light Of fathomless eyes, and brow divinely pale: She lays on mine her firmi, inmmortal hand; And I, encompassed by a magical mlist, Feel that her lips have kissed Mine eyes and forehead; -how the in fluence fine Of her deep life runs like Arcadian wine Thlrough all ]ny being! How a moment pressed To the large fountains of her opulent breast, A rapture smites me, half akin to pain; A sun-flash quivering through white chords of rain! The giant constellations rose and set: I knew them all, and worshipped all I knew; Yet, froo their elnmpire in the pregnant blue, Sweeping from planet-orbits to faint bars Of nebulous cloud, beyond the range of stars, I turned to worship with a heart as true, Long mosses drooping from the cypress tree: The virginal vines that stretched re motely diri, Frof d forest limb to l imb; Network of goldent fer ns, w hose tracery weaves In lingering twilights of wath iw A u gust eves, Ethereal frescoes, pictures fugitive, Drawn on the flickering and fair foliaged wall Of th e dense forest, ere the d henight shades fall: Pushes rock-tangled, whose mixed colors live In the pure moisture by a fountain's briin; The sylph-like reeds, wave-born, that to and fro Move ever to the waters' rhythmic flow, Blent with the hummling of the wild wood bee, And the winds' under thrills of mystery; The twinkling " ground-stars," full of modest cheer, Each her cerulean cup In humble supplication lifting up, To catch whate'er the kindly heavens may give Thenceforth, I walked The earth all-seeinlg; - not her stateliest forms Alone engrossed me, nor her sounds of power; Mountains and oceans, and the rage of storms; Fierce cataracts hurled fromn awful steep to steep, Or, the gray water-spouts, that whirling tower Along the darkened bosom of the deep; But all fair, fairy forms; all vital things, That breathe or blossom'midst our bounteous springs; In sylvan nooks rejoicingly I met The wild rose and the violet; On dewy hill-slopes pausing, fondly talked With the coy wind-flower, and the grasses brown, That in a subtle language of their own (Caught from the spirits of the wan dering breeze), Quaintly responded; while the heavens looked down As graciously on these Tita:-'., growths, as on sublimer I 220 Of ceiittiry-iiiotilded coiitilleiits, that beiiio,.,k Alike the eartliqtiake's and tli( billows' sliock By Orient islands and cold ocean capes! , li,,t- ic UNVEILED. Of flooded sunshine, or celestial den; And even when, self-poised in airy grace, Their phantom lightness stirs Through glistening shadows of a secret place The silvery-tinted gossamers; For thus hath Nature taught amid her All, - The complex miracles of land and sea., And infinite marvels of the infinite air, No life is trivial, no creation small! Ever I walk the earth, As one whose spiritual ear Is strangely purged and purified to hear Its multitudinous voices; from the shore Whereon the savage Arctic surges roar,. And the stupendous bass of choral waves Thunders o' e' " wandering graves," From warrior-winds whose viewless co lhorts charge "Have I not followed, followed whlere she led, Tracking wild rivers to their fountain head." With Nature's freedom in her happiest moods, I love the inock-bird's, and brown thrush's lay, The mel ted sou l of May. Beneath those matchle ss n otes o, From jocund hearts upwelled to fervid throats, In gushes of clear harmony, I seem, oft-times I seem To find remoter meanings; the far tone Of ante-natal music faintly blown From out the misted realns of mem ory; The pathos and the passion of a dream; Or, broken fugues of a diviner tongue The banded mists through Cloudland's vaporous dearth, Pealing their battle bugles round the marge Of dreary fen and desolated moor; Down to the ripple of shy woodland rills Chanting their delicate treble'mid the hills, And ancient hollows of the enchanted ground, - I pass with reverent thought, Attuned to every tiniest trill of sound, Whether by brook or bird The perfumed air be stirred. But most, because the unwearied strains are fraught 221 LATER POEMS. That e'er hath chanted, since our earth was young, Andi o'er her peace-enamiored solitudes The stars of mornilng sung! To pass and di e Far off, far off, within the shrouded heart Of im memllorial hills, Through shade and shine I wandered, as one wanders in a dream, Till, near the borders of a beauteous st ream O'erlhuing by flower and vine, I pushed the dense, perplexing boughs aside, To mark the temperate tide Purpled by shadows of the Mltscadine. SOBER September, robed in gray and dun, Smiiled from the forest in half-pensive wise; A misty sweetness shone in her mild eyes, And on her cheek a shy flush went and calne, As flashing wvarm between The autumnal leaves of slowly dying green, The sovereign sun Tenderly kissed her; then (in ruthful mood For the vague fears of modest maiden lhood) Behold him gently, lovingly retire; Beneath the foliaged screen, Veiling his swift desireEven as a king, w-ed to some virgin queen, MIight doom his sight to blissful, brief eclipse, After his tender lips Had touched the maiden's trembling soul to flame. Reclining there at languid length I sank, One idle hand outstretched beyond the bank, WVith careless grasp The sumptuous globes of these rare grapes to clasp. Ah! how the ripened wild fruit of the South Melted upon my mouth! Its magic juices through each captured vein Rose to the yielding brain, Till, like the hero of an old romnance, Caught by the fays, my spirit lapsed away, Lost to the sights and sounds of mortal day. Lost to all earthly sights and sounds was I, But blithesomely, As stirred by some new being's won drous dawn, I heard about me, swift though gently drawn, The footsteps of light creatures on the grass. Mine eyelids seemed to open, and I saw, With joyance checked by awe, A multitudinous company Of such strange forms and faces, quaint, or briight With true Elysian light, As once in fairy fantasies of eld Through shine and shade, Thoughtful I trod the tranquil forest glade, Up-glancing oft To watch the rainless cloudlets, white and soft, Sail o'er the placid ocean of the sky. The breeze was like a sleeping infant's siglh, Measured and low, or, in quick, palpi taut thrills An instant swept the sylvan depths apart I -I 2 2 0 MUSC,4DIiVES. ,,') (!" I It I![.I',I l, II [(,I()J.)) I t, MUSGADINES. 23 Hilgh-hlearted poets through the wilds behleld Of shladowy dales and lone sea beaches pass, At spring,-tide morn or holy hush of Ilig-lt. AWith lithe, free limbs of curvature di vine, And dazzling bosoms of unveiled glow, Save where the long, ethereal tresses stray Across their unimaginable snow. Then to an airy measure, Low as thle sea winds when the night at noon0e Clasps the frail beauty of an April 11oo1n, Thlrouglh woven paces at soft-circling leisure, They glided with elusive grace adown The forest coverts-all live woodland things, Black-eyed or brown, Firiii-footed or up-poised on changeful Glinting about them'mid the indolent motion Of billowy v-erdures rippling slow As the long, lang,uid SuI-derflow Of some star-traiiced, voluptuous South ern ocean. One after one, By sun-rays kissed or fugitive shade s ow err un, All vision-like they passed me. First there came A Dryad coy, her sweet head tbowed in shame, And o'er her neck and half-averted face The faintest delicate trace Of the cllarned life-blood pulsing softly pure. Next, with bold footsteps, sure, And proudly set, from her untrammelled hills, Fair-haired, blue-eyed, upon her lofty head A fragrant crown of leaves, purple and red, Chanting a lay clear as the mountain rills, A frank-faced Oread turned on me Her cloudless glances, laughter-lit and free As the large gestures and the liberal air With w-hiich I viewed her fare Down the lone valley land,Pauising, betimes to wave her happy hand As in farewell; but ere her presence died lVlWolly away, Her voice of >olden swell Breatlhied also a farewell. Farewell, farewell, the sylvan echoes sighed, From rock-bound summit to rich blos soming bay Farewell, farewell! The circle wid(lened, and as flower A-rought bands, Stretched y)v inicauitious hands, Break in tli(, idlst w-ithl noiseless wrench asmii(lelr. So l)rake the dancers now to form in line Down- the deep glade - above the shift ingo lights, Through massive tree-boles, on majestic heights; The blossomning- turf thereunder, WAhenice, fair and fine, Twvinkling like stars that hasten to be drawn smn a Close to the breast of dawn, Shone, with their blue veins pulsing fleet, Innumerable feet, White as the splendors of the milky w-ay, Yet rosy warm as opening tropic dclay, Fauns, satyrs flitted past mle — the whole race Of wvoodland( births uncouth UIitil I seemiie(d, in sooth, Far froimi the garish track I M US CAD INE S. 223 LA TLR POEMIS. At length the wind of evening, keenly chill, Swept round the darkening hill; Then throbbed the rush of hurried wings o'erhead, Blent iswith aeirial murmurs of the pine, Just whispering twilight. On my brow the (lewv DI)ropped softly, and I woke to all the low, Strange sounds of twilight woods that comIie and go So fitfully; and o'er the slin's decline, Through the green foliage flickering high, BelSel(e, enitli d geamiy eye, Sweet Venus glittering in the stainless blue. Of these loud days to have wandered, joyful, back Along the paths, beneath the crystal sky Of long, long-perished Arcady. But last of all, filling the haunted space With odors of the flower-einamored tide, Whose wavelets love through miiany a secret place Of the deep dell and breezeless bosk to glide, Stole by, lighltsomne and slimc a As Dian's self in each swift, sinuous limnb, Her arms outstretched, as if in act to sNN-iiii The air, as erst the waters of her lhome, A naiad, sparkling as the fleckless foami Of the cool fountain-head hereby she dwi-ells. Thus the day closed whereon I drank the w ine - The liquid miiagic of the Muscadine. O'er her sloped shoulders and the pure pink bu(l Of either virginal breast is richly rolled (O rare. miri acutlous flood!) The torrent of hler freed locks' shim meringigol, cold Through wh-ich the gleams of rainbow colored shells, And pearls of mloonl-like radiance flash an(l float Round her ilinmiiactilate throat. WAiIHEN Heaven was stormy, Earth was cold, And sunlight shunned the wold and wave, - Thought burrowved in the churchyard imiouild, And fed on dreams that haunt the grave: - Clothed in her beauty only wandered she, '-lid the moist herbage to the streamlet's edlge, Where, girt by silvery rushes and brown sedge. She faded slowly. slowly, as a star Fades in the gloamingl, on the bosom bow-edb Of sovle lhalnf-wuiwiniooLts cloud, Above the -an. waste waters of the sea. But n ow that Ileaven is freed from strife, And Eartlh's full heart with rapture sitwells, Thought soars the realms of endless life Above the shining asplhodels! Wlhat flower that drinks the south wind's breath, uWhlat sparkling leaf, what Hebe-Morn, But flouts the sullen grayl)ear(l, Death, And laughs our Arctic doubts to scorn? Then. sense and spirit fading inward too, I slept oblivious; through the dim, dumb hours, Safely encoucled on autumn leaves and floaters, I slept as sleep the unperturbed dead. Pale scientist! scant of healthful blood, Your ghostly tomes, one moment, close; Pluck freshness with a spring-time bud, Find wisdom in the opening rose: 224 ,LV A 5I']?]-A'G GAP,.DE-Y. S TORM-FRA GMIENTS. Not all its ruin came through storm or time; Ages ago,']nid winter's dreariest blight, It saw and strove to shroud an awful c rime, But slowly withered fromi that fateful night! Fromi toil wlichl,blindly delving, gropes When tiine but plays a juggler's part, Ah go! a nd bre at he the dew-lit hopes That cluster round a violet's heart: Mark the white lily whose sweet core Hath many a wild-bee swa-arm enticed, And draw therefrom a honeyed lore PuLre as the tender creed of Christ: An evil charm its many-centuried rings PRobbed of their pith; no more with healthful start Its lusty life-sap, nursed by countless sprints, Coursed through great veins, and warmled its giant heart. Yea! even the weed which upward holds Its tiny ear, past bower and lawn, A loveli er faith than yours enfolds, Caught fromi the whispering lips of dawn! Now all nien shun the gaunt accursed thing Only the raven with monootonous croak, Tortures the silence, staining with black wing The leprous whiteness of the rotting oak! THi- life is full of motion, perfume, g,race; Minie, a low blossom in a shaded place, Whereto the zephyrs whisper, only they, Through the long lapses of the lone some day. Thy lordly genius blooms for all to see On the clear heights of calh supremacy; Mvy lhumibler dower they only find who pass With eyes that seek for violets miid the grass. THE stormii had 1raved its furious soul a0NNa-F7; O'er its wild ruins Twilight, spectral, gray, THE SKELETQ0 - I'IT-VESS. Stole like a nun,'midst wounded men an d slain, Walkill, the bounds of some fierce battle plain. ROOTED in soil dull as a deadl ]nan's eye, Dank w-itlh decay, yon ghastly oak as pires, As if in mockery, to the alien sky, Frowning afar througlh clouded sunset fires. The ghost of thunder muttered faintly by; Whlile down the uttermost spaces of the sky, No garb of sunumer greenery girds it now: Stripped as some naked soul at Judgiimenit-imorn, It rears its blasted armns, its sullen brow, Defia nt still, though wasted, scarred, forlorn! Just where the sunset's glimmering verge g re w pale, The baffled winds outbreathed their dy ing wail! i 225 0 - V, DEGREE. 0 S TOI,,'ll-FPA G11E-YTS. 0 LATER POEMS. The sombre clouds that thronged a shad owy west Writhed, as if tortured monsters of un rest, lWhose depths the keen sheet-lightnings rent apart, To show what fiery torment throbbed at heart! Where raged of late the war of elements dread, Brooded a solemn silence overhead, Through which, beyond the cloud-strewn, heavenly field, The mioon shone gory as a warrior's shield, Dipped in the veins of many a van qLuished foe; Blood-red, I marked the wandering va pors flow Vaguely about her, while her lurid ,lght Scared the vague vanguard of the shades of night; Their banded hosts retreating, wild and dimsu, In shattered cohorts o'er the horizon's rilm: Yet, the broad empire of those baleful beams Heaved with strange shapes and hues of nightmare dreams! Here, as fromn cloud-born Himalayas rolled, I saw what seemed a cataract's rush of gold, Hurled between shores of darkness, dense and dire, Down to a seething mountain-lake of fire; There. dismal catacombs, whose nether glooms Yawned, to reveal their loathsome place of tombs: Caverns of mystic depth, whence bub bling callme The blue-tiiiged horror of sulphuLreous flanme; Fragment s of castles, withi freshi blood besprent, Gaunt, ruined towel, and blasted battle lnent On which, flaine-clad, and tottering to their fall, Dark eyes of frenzy flashed o'er cope and wall! With awful ocean-spaces, lima itless, grandl. Wlhere spectral billows laslhed a viewless land; Their mountainous floods a frowning zenith kissed, But glinpsed, at timies,'twixt folds of phia,nitomil-miist, I viewed, as faintly touched by nl lfled stars, The semiblanice of dead forms, on ship wrecked spars Whirled upward, and dead faces, a white spumne Smote to false life against that turbulent gloomii, Where mournful birds, on pinions gray or dun, Circled, oethought, o'er some half-per ishled sun, Whose feeble lustre, faltering upward, flings A sad-hued radiance round their pallid wings; Yea! all fantastic shapes of terror, wrought 'Twixt errant fancy and dreaim-lhaunted thought, Until I seemed with Dante's soul to fly, Through new Infer nos, shifted to -the s,kv! -)06 UNDERGROUND-A FANTASY. And the flame of its lightnings can bide no longer, Ensheathed at the core of a clouded life; And its pent-Lp thunders, unloosed at last, Kleep time to the rhlythmiic rage of the blast, For my spirit, half-maddened by Fates that wr ong her, :s shaken by passion, and hot with strife! TIIE winds of the winter have breathed their dirges Far over the wood and the leaf-strown plain; They have passed, forlorn, by the inoun taim verges Dowvn to the shores of the moaning main; And the breast of the smitten sea divides, Till the voice of winds and the voice of tides Seem blent with the roar of the central surges, Whose fruitless furrovs are sown w it h rain. Ah, GoJl! for the wings of the eagle above hie, With their steadfast vigor and royal might; Ah, God! for an imnpulse like theirs to move me In endless courses of upward flight; The cloudls may billow, the vapors heave, But still his pinions the darkness cleave; And proudly serene, ill those realmns abov e me He is soaring from conquered height to height: Thle pines look down, and their branches shiver On the misty slopes of the mountain wall, hae And I hear the shout of a mountain river Through the gloom of the ghostly gorges call; WVhiile from drifting depths of the troub led skyv Outtringeth the eagle's wild reply, So shrill that the startled echoes quiver; And the veil of the tempest is over all. Till at length, his great, broad vans at even And stately poise on the airy streanm, I mark, through the rifts of the tiurbid heaven His form outflashed like a wing,,d beam, And I ask, "Shall )),y spirit soar like his? Shall it ever soar in the peace and bliss Of the shining heights and the glory given To the will unvanquished, the faith supreme? " O C groaning forest! O wind that rushes Unfettered and fierce as a doom malign n IlowA- the pulses leap, how the heart-tide flushles The temples and browi like the fluslh of wine, As I pause, as I hearken the vast com miotiong Of the air, of the earth, of the wakened ocean; And my soul goes forth with the storm that crushes, With the battling foam and the blind ing brine. MIAJIESTIC dreams of lheavenly calins, Br i gh t visi on s of unfading pal ars, WVlierewitlh the brows of saints are crowned, - Yea, my soul is rent bv a tempest stronger Tlhal ever was Nature's, with rui ne rife, 227 ABOT-E THE STOR-11. UNDE-RGP,O(TVD-A FAX7ASY. ILATUER POEMS. Awhile my soul resigns them all, Content to rest death's dreamless thrall, Safe underground! illy sylvan darling! set'twixt shade and shieen, Soft as a maid, yet stately as a queen! Thy loyal head, crowned by one lonely star, Flickers thro' twilight, coldly fine, and far; But thy earth-yearning branches bend to g r ee t The lowliest wood-grass tangled round mly feet. Rest! rest! oblivious rest I crave. Thllough narrowed to a pine-clad grave, WitlI sylvan shadows shimmering round; Tilae peace of He aven, if fair and deep, Scarce wn-ooes ime like Ear-th' s ebon sleep, Far uniider-griounid. By infinite weariness oppressed Of soul and senses, blood and breast, Wlihere can such Gilead balm be found As that which breathes from out the sod Baptized by rain and dews of God, Deep uiderground? Leaning on thee, I feel the subtlest thrill Stir thy dusk liml)s, thlo' all the heavens are s till; And'neatlh thy rings of rugged fretwork, imark What seems a heart-throb muffled in the dark! A centuryv s space I yearn to be -Untroiubled, slumbering tranquilly, There, by the haunted woodlands bound; What suins shall set, what planets rise O'er putlseless brain and curtained eyes, Dark underground! Hiere lingering long, amid the shadowy gleams, Faintly I catch (yet scarce as one that dreams) Low words of alien mnusic, softly sung, And rhythmic sighs in some sweet uni known tongue. A centlury's sleep might bring redress To these dull wounds of weariness, Till the soothed spirit, hale and sound, Grow conscious of the sacred trust AWhichl holds immortal bloom in dust, Safe undergrounid. And somethieg rare, I cannot clasp or see, Flits vaguely out from this mysterious tree - A viewless glory, an ethereal grace, aWhichl make Elysian all the haunted place! Yea! conscious glow of rustling wings, And keenl, mysterious whlisperings, Blown flame-like o'er the burial A lound: a-y soul N-ould feel thy Orient kiss, An,el of Paling,enesis, Thrilled underground! Ethereal! viewless! yet divinely dear! Ah me! what strange enchantment hov ers near. What breaths of love the old, old dreams renew I What kisses fall, like charmed Thessa lian dew! THE DRYAD OF THE PINE. AH, forest sweetheart! over land and sea I come once more, once more to stand by thee; I I i i i i I -).)8 i i i I I My -Drya(I-Love hath slipped the iml)ris o)zi,)ttl bark, He), heart o)t inine, unin?tffled by the dark. TO A BEE. 2'2 Lord of fair realms and watery worlds grotesque! Majestic afreet of weird Arabesque! We hail thee sovereign in these fevered lands. No more with alien hearts and folded hands, But as an angel from the fadeless palms, And the great River of God's central calms, Whose silent charm must work benign relea se, Whose touch is healing, and whose breatlh is — peace! tVEL CO.MIE TO FI OS T. O SPmIIT! at whose wafts of chilling breath Autumn unbinds her zone, to rest in death; Touched by whose blight the light of cordial days Is lost in sombre browns and sullen grays; Thou seemest of all sad things a mourn ful part: Yet now we greet thee with exultant heart. Not as a thief, at night-time bearing doom, But a brave messenger of grace and bloom; Thy flickering robe and footsteps soft we mark Down the dim borders of the tremulous Dark; And though before thee flowers and fo liage wane, Thou layest a magic hand on human pain. Red Fever, soothed by thy cool finger-tips, Ebbs from hot cheek and wildly-miutter ing lips; Delirious dreams and frenzied fancies fade Into fine landscapes of enchanted shade, With low of kine and lapse of lyric rills Through the cleft channel of Arcadian hills; Till the worn patient feels his languid eyes Flushed with what seems an earthly Paradise, And life's old blissful tide, with lustier strain, Revels in music through each ransomed vein. Therefore, O monarch of all cold device, Wrought in strange temples of Siberian ice! LISTEN! the sof lbre foliage of the Pine, A swart Gitana of the woodland trees, Is answering what we inay but half di vine, To those soft whispers of the twilight breeze! Passion and mystery murmur through the leaves, Passion and mystery, touched by death less pain. Whose monotone of long, low anguish grieves For something lost that shall not live again! TO A BEE. SMIALL epicurean, would to heaven that I Could borrow your li the body and swift wing To speed, a lightning atom through the sky, The blithest courier on the winds of spring! TO A BEE. 229 0 THE PINE'S MYSTERY. 1. II. LATER POEMS. O blissful mite! native of light and air! In eager zeal you haste your spoils to win; From half-blown bud to flower all mna tron-fair, Sucking the nectared sweetness shrined within! Gone, like a vision! Yet, be sure that he Hath only flown through lovelier flower s to stray, Anacreon's soul, thus prisoned in a bee, Still sips and sings the springti(le hours away! . The jonquil wooes you with her golden blush, And blossoming quince (each flower a fairy Mars, That tints its heaven of green with crim solned flush), AWhiile the pure "white-rod" blooms in silvery stars, THE FIRSIT [IOCKIVG - BIRD IN SPI>II.VG. WINGED poet of vernal ethers! Ah! where hast thou lingered long? I have missed thy passionate, skyward flights And the trills of thy changeful song. HIast thou been in the hearts of wood lands old, Ha lf dreaming, and, drowsed by the winter's cold, Just crooning the ghost of thy springtide lay To the listless shadows, benumibed and gray? Or hast thou strayed by a tropic sliore, And lavished, 0 sylvan troubadour! The boundless wealth of thy imusic free On the dimpling waves of the Southland sea? What matter? Thou comest with mniagic strain, To the morning haunts of thy life again, And thy melodies fall in a rhythmic rain. Open to yield their delicate richness up. But most you love on vernal noons, to dart 'Mid jasmine bowers, and drain each petalled cup hith fervid lip and war m voluptuous heart. There, safely couched, you hum a low refrain, Of such supreme and rare contentment born, Its happy monotone mocks our human pain, And subtly stings us with unconscious scorn. Thlence, honey-freighted, you steal lazily out, Pausing a moment on some leafy brink, As if enmeshed by viewless webs of doubt From what next foun t of luscious life to drink The wren and the fieldi-lark listen To the gush fromn their laureate's throat; And the blue-bird stops on the oak to catch Each rounded and perfect note. The sparrow, his pert head reared aloft, Has ceased to chirp in the grassy croft, And is bending the curves of his tiny ear In the pose of a critic wise, to hear. A blackbird, perched on a glistening gumu, Seemis lost in a rapture, deep and dumb; And as eagerly still in his tranced hush, A moment only. Soon your matchless flight Cleaves the far blue; your elfin thun der booms In elfin echoes from yon glimmering height, To fall and die amid these ravished blooms. 2 " -') I) THE iED AND T'HE WHIT'E ROSE. 'Mid the copse beneath, is a clear-eyed thrush. No longer the clove by the thorn-tree root M-oans sad and soft as a far-off flute. All Nature is hearkening, charmed and iimute. that beam, Seems centred always in an Arctic dream; Prim, puritanic, passionless, austere, What would'st thou give my opulent life to share? To every breeze - the daintiest breeze that blows, Each petalled curve of mine more richly glows; And all the countless tints of heaven born grace But touch to make more bright my IIebe face!" " Ah! well, fulfil thy fate!" the White Rose said; "List to the wooing winds! uplift thy head In sovereign pride through every radiant phase Of star-illumined nights and cloudless days; Let winged lovers thy warm leaves dis part, To find voluptuous shelter next thy heart. Fulfil thy fate, 0 Queen! but leave to nme My stainless calmn and cloistral sanctity; Those passionate airs that trembling round thee meet, Sink in soft worship at my veili(l feet; The reverent sun-rays shimmering gently down, Weave o'er my brows a halo for a crown; And while I muse in star, or moonshine W\-e scarce can deem it a marvel, For the songs our nightingale sings Tlhrob wi-ar-m and sweet with the rhythmic beat Of the fervors of countless springs. A11 beautiful measures of sky and earth Otitpour in a second and rarer birth From that mellow throat. When the winds are whist, And he follows his mate to their sunset tryst, Where the wedded nimyrtles and jasmine twine, Oh! the swell of his music is half di vine! And I Avaguiely wonder, O bird! can it be That a human spirit hath part in thee? Some Lesbian singer's, who died per chance Too soon in the summer of Greek ro mlance, But the rich reserves of whose broken lay, In some mystical, wild, undreamed-of way, Find voice in thy bountiful strains to day! THE R1ED I-VD THE WVHITE RO0SE. ThIE led Rose bowed one golden sumn mer's n ight, The Red Rose bent, low whispering to the White, "Tholu pallid shadow of a beauteous flower. Unchanged from purpling dawn to sun- The flowers seem murmuring,'Lo! our 231 Wliose calin, cold lieart beneath all liglits faint, set liotir; garden saint!' " LAI'ER POEMS. 'Mid little, tender sighs and murmur ings (Joy's scarce articulate speech), her eager hands Loosed the light coif, the ringlet's golden bands, Till, by their luminous loveliness em braced, From lily-hiead to lithe and lissome waist, Poured the free tresses like a cascade's fall. HOer ifmage answered from the shimmer ing wall, Answered and deepened, while the gracious charlms Of brow and cheek, bared breast and dimpling arms, To innocent worship stirred her happy heart: lHer lips - twin rosebud petals blown apart - Quivered, half breathless; then, subdued but warm, Around her perfect face, her pliant form A subtler air seemed gathering, touched with fire By many a fervid thought and swift de sire, With dreams of love, that, bee-like, came and went, To feed the honeyed core of life's con tent! Closer toward her mirrored self she pressed, With large child-eyes, and gently pant ing breast, Bowed as a flower when May-time breezes pass, And kissed her own dear Image in the glass! The Red Rose heard, but ere she spoke, her mouth Thralled by the light, quick kisses of the South, Passed from arch wonder, blent with gay disdain, Back to its dimpled mirthfulness again; And she,-the garden's empress-proud yet fond,Of summer flowers, the matchless Rosa mond, Looked at her pale-hued sister, dew impearled, As that fair marvel of the island world, Might, in her ruddier nature's Tropic glow, Have viewed a calm St. Agnes' brow of With some dim sense of mystic space between The heaven-bound votaress and the earthly queen! BEFORE THE _IIRR OR. WnHErnE in her chamber by the Southern sea, Her taper's light shone soft and silvery, Fair as a planet mirrored in the main, Fresh as a blossom bathed by April rain, A maiden robed for restful sleep aright, Stood in her musing sweetness, pure and white As some shy spirit in a haunted place: Her dew-bright eyes and faintly flushing face Viewed in the glass their delicate beauty beam, Strange as a shadowy "dream within a dream " With fingers hovering like a white dove's wings, TWO EPOCHS. LOVERS by a dim sea strand Looking wave-ward, hand in hand; Silent, trembling with the bliss Of their first betrothal kiss: 32 WIND FR iOil THE EAS T. Lovers still, thlo' wedded long! (Time true love can never wrong!' Gazing,-faithful hand ill hand, O'er a darker sea and strand: Ali! one lover's face is wnain As a wave tlhe imioon shlinies oni; But those strange tides strtche(l afar Know not sun, nor lnooni, nor stair! "0 imasterful wind anid cruel! at thy sweep, Front the bold lill-top to the va]ley deep, Surprise anid fear through all tlhe woodlaii(ds riun." JfINJ-D 1'1011 V'IIE EAS7'.* TIIE Spring. so fair in her young incom pleteness, Of late the very type of tender sw-eet ness; Now, through frail leaves and misty branches browNn, Looks forthl, the dreary shadow of a f'rownChasing the frank smile from her inno cent face; What marvel this? for the East Wind's disgrace Sinites, like a buffet, April's tingling chleek, Ahenice the swift, outraged blood doth ehb to seek The affrighlted heart! The Earth, herself so gay, Buoyant, and happy, at the dawn of d(lay, 0 masterful wind anld cruel! at thy sw-eep, F I1rom the bold lhill-top to the valley deep, Surprise and fear through all the wood land(is run, Till the coy nestling-places of the sun Are ruifled -tp, froad sline to sha(le, as wheu At the first note of stormn the mi-oorland Ruffles her wirngs ere yet their warmth be spread About each tremulous nestling's dusky head. * This piece is (for the mnost part) a rhymed versioln of an exceediinglv graphic description of the East wind, which occurs in Sir. Blackmiore's admirable novel, "Cripps, the Carrier." h ir. Blackmore is a poe t, although he writes in prose. On the tall trees the foremost hbudls, lhalf bare, Stared, as wil(l-eyed, on the keen, rasp ing air; 2 3 i'i' Tlirills, sliiveiiii,, loii- witli every flaw iiicrease,tl, Aiid fraii,lit in-itli salt-se,-t col(li-iess fi-oin the E,,tst! LA ER POEMS. Then slIook - but not w-ith softly-palpi taut tlhrills. As -whlen o'erlooking the freed mioun tain-rills, They felt their life by loving aritis ca ressed - Warmi, view-less armis of zeplhyrs of the West - But w-ithl the esense, the cold and shiv-ery stress Of utter and forlornest nakedness. The tw-igs that bore thema flattened up -ward, lost To all but rigid consciousness of frost; AndI their fill-foliaged brancles whlich l so blindly Bow-ed in meekl lioaoge wh-len the w-inids w,-ere kindblly Strained upwaird, too, in stiff. rebellious fashion. With throes of angtisli and deep mioans of pa sion,. Wrung from tlhein b\- wild beatings of the gatle! Then miany a tiny leaf. though waxing pale,. Cloud-shadowed; all unlfrayed(l. yet quiv ering, slhrunkdek Behind the mosses of some giant trunk, To wait till the shrew-d templest hurtling Left Spring once more empress of eartlh and sky - While many a large leaf, almost riven V apart, Piped a sad dirge fromj out its fluted heart, And knowing vwhat sombre selvage must be seen - Alas, too soon! - to fllii its glow of green, Bewailed the hour w-hose treacherous brightness canme To wn-arn its life-blood into genial flaiiie Only to send the blissfutl-flowing( tide Back through the ballied v-eins inilsatis fied, IEA CII BL 0 03IS. O! tenderly beautifuil, beyond coml)are, Flutshed fronm I)ale pink to leep)est rosebutd huiieNurslilngs of tr-aniqutil sttinshile and(I imiild air, Of shadlow-less daw n, and silvery twi lighNt dewYe blush andl I)bnii, as if youtr flickering gra(e Were love's owi tint on Spring's en ailorie(i fac e! And day by day - yea, gol(l(dn lhoiur by iiottr Youir subl)tle fragrtanic(e alnl richl b(aut,y tell (Each fairyv blossomii rioiin(le(d into 1low er); How matchless olice that lost Arcadian .spell. Which dwelt in leafy bowers and vernal (dyes Whence coyly p)eepe(d the l)ryad's fawn like eyes! And yet, while all so fair and bouinteouis seemBs, While the birds carol - eachIi his (laii tiest part,, Veiled in soft brighltniess, and like miiu sical (dreamis In some blithe soul —tlhe bee-s\arimis haunit youir heart. Lo! severed slowly fr omi yon roseate crown, A scarlet snow\vdrift, silent, falters down. The reign of these rich bl)oomis is ahliiost done; Soon to the laniguiid Zepllyr's feeblest breath, Tleir loosened petals, yielding one by 0I1 (', i) 34 Its nascent joy ilipl)e(I by the ai-ctic, breath And merciless wafta,e of this Wind of Death! LOVE'S AUTUMfNo Must find the Lethe of unwakening death. Ah Ime! of all the bourgeoned buds that shoot Even to full flower, how few shall bear us fruit! Till ill a sunset hour, whose light Pale hints of radiance pulsed o'erhead, Afar the miloaing East wind died, And the mild AVest wind breathed in stead. Then the clouds broke, and ceased the rain; The sunset many a kindling shaft Shot to the wood's heart; nature rose, And through her soft-lipped verdures laughed. Their little dlay is closing fast in glooim; Nor will they reck - poor wilted waifs, and blindi! AW-liat gerills of richness wax from faded bloomag, To charmI the pampered taste of liu miiani kind; Forever dropped from off their parent stein, f/7ot liave iian's thoughts or tastes to do wx-itlh thelmi? Low to thlle breeze; as sonme fair maid, Love wakes fr om troublouts dreams, miglhlt rise, Half dazed, yet happy - mists of sleep Still hovering in her haunted eyes. So let them rest, I pray you, let them rest, Small perishing sweethearts of the sun and rain: O! mother-earthl, thou hast a rutlihful breast, Which yearns to fold thy humblest child from pain. 3Ien fall like flowi-ers; both claim 1 the self-same balm, The equal peace of thy majestic calnm! I WOULD not lose a single silvery ray Of those white locks which like a milky way Streak the dusk inidnighlt of thy raven hair; I would not lose, O sweet! the misty shine Of those half-saddened, thoughtful eyes of thine, Whence Love looks forth, touched by the shadow of care; FP,o.-I day to day the dreary heaven Outpoured its hopeless heart in rain; The conscious pines, half shuddering, heard The secret of the East wind's pain. I would not miss the droop of thy dear mloutlh, The lips less dewy-red than when the South, - The young South wind of passion sighed o'er them; MIist veiled the sun- the sombre land, In floating- clolud-wracks densely fuirled, Seemed shut forever from the bloomo And gladness of the living world. I would not miss each delicate flower that blows On thy wan cheeks, soft as September's rose Blushing but faintly on its faltering steim; From week to week the changeless heaven WAept on-and still its secret pain To the bent pine-trees sobbed the win d, In hollow truces of the rain. I 235 0 L-OVE,',5 4UTUViV. [To My Wife.] 0 TIIE A JFAKE-YI-VG. LATE Pl'OEJlS. I w-ould not miss the air of chastened grace Which breathed divinely from thy patient face, Tells of love's watchful anguish, merged in rest; Than this fair plant, w hose s tems are bowed In such lithe curves of maiden grace, Veiled in white blossoms like a cloud Of daintiest bridal lace? So rare, so soft, its blossoms seem Half woven of mnoonshline's misty bars, And treimulous as the tender gleam Of the far Soutlhlanid stars. Naughlt would I mliss of all thou hast, or art, O! friend supreme, whose constant, stainless heart, Dotli house unknowing, many an angel guest; Perchance - who knows? - so me virgin bright, Some loveliest of the Dryad race, Pours through these flowers the kindling light Of her Arcadian face. Their presence keeps thy spiritual elainbers pure; While the flesh fails, strong love grows more and more Divinely beautiful with perished years; Thuls, at each slow, but surely deepening sign Of life's decay, we will not, Sweet! re pine, Nor greet its mellowing close with thank less tears; Nor wvot,ld I marvel overmuch If from yon pines a wood-god came, And witlh a baridegroom's lips should touchi Her conscious heart to flame; While she, reveal ed at that strange tryst, In all her mystic beauty glows, Lifting the cheek her Love had kissed, Paled like a br-i(lal rose. Love's spring was fair, love's summer brave and blanld, But through love's autumn ir mist I view the land, The land of deathless summers yet to be; COQ UE 7'TE. There, i behold thee, young again and bright, In a great flood of rare transfiguring liglht, But there as here, thou smlilest, Love! on me! YES! there from out the gallery gloom, Retaining still a flush of bloomii, I mark our bright ancestress glow - The maiden lRose of long ago. She lived in times of suinptuous dress, And rich colonial stateliness; But thlrotugh the strong restraints of art I seem to view her hleaving heart, As if a protest warm it made 'Gainst that stiff bodice of brocade, WWhile in her fair chleeks' deepening dyes, Her lifted brows and roguish eyes, Her swan-like neck and dimpled chinCleft for small Loves to ambush in [This exquisite plant blooms in the Southern States as early as the middle of February.] OF all the subtle fires of earth Wh ich rise in f orm of spring-time flowers, Oh, say if aught of purer birth Is nursed by suns and showers I i I 236 0 [Ai-Doiig the family portraits.] 1. 6 THE SPIREA. "Al! many a gallant loved her well In those old days." I THE WORLD WITIIIN U,. I can not fail (-who could?) to see All potent cliarmus of coquetryThe w-iles -whlose glamlour, sw-ift anld inote ha.pless -victimlis by the score; And even now- (althoughl they be DLiscerned il pictured plhantasy) Not all ilnocuoIus, ])ut possessed Of pow-er to pierce the mianly breast, If frostedl to its shivering core By- forty arctic years or more. I CHASED tlhe ilail witah rapid feet, Where ice and stunbeamn quiver; But still beyiond me, shyly fleet, Sle flashed far downl the river. Somnetimes a glance slihe shot belhind, O'er graceful shoulders turning A cheek whose tints the eager wind Ilad set like stulnrise burning. Ahl nlnny a gallant loved her well In those old days Her features tell Tlhe w-orld-w-ide story o'er again, Of others' passion, i e) disdain; Of hlearts that spent their best to make Her own mlore tender for love's sake, ()nlv in time to find, perchance, Dull en(ling to a life's romance, Sinice trivial natures are not stirred .Save by the lightly trivial wvord; And elmuch I fear, despite the fine Rare b)eauty of each faultless lineHer face, of gay iiisotecio)ice, shows No gol(len gulfs of pure repose Deep in lihei inllost being shlrinedBut shallow- tllhoughts and purpose blind. And yet -whlo know-s? 3Ly erring sight Mlay not have read its meanings right, And somnething of ethereal grace MAy lutrk beneath that careless face, lWhich masks w-ith inconsiderate mirth A soul not wholly wved to earth! And swift as soiie winged creature sped Far down tlle crystal river, Until the sllininig formn that fled I dreamnedI mighlt fly forever. PERCHANCE our iiit,iao'd world may partly be But outwardl Nature's fine epitome; Now, o'er it floats some cloud of tender pain Too frail to hold the sad reserves of rain; Therefore, sweet flesh and blood, I trust That, ere ye passed to senseless dust, Your beauty played a worthier partThe love-iole of the loyal lteart. An(I now behold some breezy impulse run O'er Thoughlt's bright surface, glittering in the sun; No answ-er comes; for time doth mar Our records. Only, like a star Scarce touched by vapors vague and chill, Your gracious image haunts us still. But none, alas! mllay truly guess What fate befell your loveliness. 237 ,K,11'ING. Soinetiiiies, bloivn backward iii the chase, With balniy, soft caresses, I felt across iiiy glonviiig face The ivaft of perftiiiied tresses. II. TI-ien, in a s-Liddei-i oiiivard -lide, SI-ie riislied -,vitli even motion, -A-s a loi-i,, Nvave the restless tide Drives shoreward fast front ocean; TIIE IVOI,'LD Jfl'rll-I-AT US. -i FANTASY. III. Wliereon, like birds, the flocks of fancy throng, And all is peace and sN cetness, light and son" I LA]'ER,POEMS. Anon. diiim moods like shadowy wood lands rise As'twere between the spirit's earth and skies: All fair sutggestions, hints of twilight grace, Safe lharborage seek within the spell bound space; AMuLsic is there, low laughlter, and the sound Of fairy voices, echoing gently round The cool recesses of the veiled mind: VWhile on the surge of lmemory's phlan tom1 wind, Ghosts of dead loves, swathed in a silvery mist Pass by us; and the lips our lips had kissed, In voutlh's glad(l prime, unutterable things WIhisper, through wafts of visionary wingees. Ahl, yes! our iitc'(ticl world but mirrors true. This oittt),od( world of sense; - it bath its dew,i Its sunshine, and fresh roses, white and red; It holds a tender moonlight over head; The dews of yearning, mild, or fiery bright. The flowers of peace, or passioil; the calmi lillght Of reasoning thought, and retrospection fine. All merged in subtlest beauty —half divine! It hlath its mounts of vision, and its vales Of contemplation, wvllere fond nightin gales, Boln of the brain, anld'gaiinst some thorns of woe, Setting their breasts- but sing more sweetly so: Fountains it owns of shyest fantasie; Glad streams of inspiration, swift and free, Rolling toward Thloughlt's central ocean vast llWherein all lesser forms of thought, at last Sin-k, as the rivulets per-islh in a sea;Tlhus, rounded, whole, our spirit-land scapes be, Our spirit-world tlhuis perfect; over all, No clouds of doubt hang, stifling as a p all; But if the soul be healthful, noble, highi, God's promise lights it, like a sleepless eye! FOII'ES'' Q UIE T. [Ill the South.] So deep this sylvan silence, strange and sweet,, Its dryad-guar(lian, virginal Peace, can hear The pulses of her own pure bosom beat; And her low voice echloed by elfin rills, And far-off forest fountains, sparkling clear 'Mid haunted hollows of the hoary hills; No breeze, nor wraith of any breeze that blows, Stirs the chlarmned calm; not even yon gossamer-chain, Dew-born, and swung'twixt violet and wild rose, i I i I 238 A S X'01M IN TIlE DIS EDANCE. Thrills to the airy elements' subtlest breath; Such marvellous stillness almnost broods like pain O'er the hushed sense, holding diun hints of death! I followed —followed the bright shape that flew, Still circling up the blue, Till as a fountain that has reaclhed( its height, Falls back in sprays of lightt Slowly dissolved, so that enrapturing lay, Divinely imelts away Through tremulous spaces to a miusic mist, Soon by the fitful breeze How gently kissed Into remote and tender silences. AWhat shladows of sound survive, the waves' far sigh, DiowON-se(d cliicket's chirp, or mock-bird's croon in sleep, But touch this sacred, soft tranquillity To yet diviner quiet: the fair land Breathes like an infant lulled from deep to deep Of dreamless rest, on some wave-whis pering strand! it STOI,l'LI ITV THE DISTANiCE. [Aimon-g the Georgian Hills.] I SEE the cloud-born squadrons of the gale, Their lines of rain like glittering sp ears (lepr(st (lWhile all the affitiglhted land grows darkly pale), In flashing charge on earth's half shielded breast; THE M10CCKIVG-BIRD. [At iniglht.] A C,GOLDEN- pallor of voluptuous light Filled the warmn southern night: The moon, clear orbed, above the sylvan scene Moved like a stately queen, So rife with conscious beauty all the while, What could she do but smnilec At her own perfect loveliness below, Glassed in the tranquil flowt Of crystal fountains and unruffled streams? Half lost in waking dreams, As down the loneliest forest dell I strayed, Lo! from a neigboring glade, Flashed through the drifts of moonshine, swiftly came A fairy shape of flame. It rose in dazzling spirals overhead, Whence to wild sweetness wed, Poured marvellous melodies, silvery trill on trill; The very leaves grew still On the charmed trees to hearken; while for me, Heart-trilled to ecstasy, Sounds like the rush of trampling columns float From that fierce conflict; volleyed thunders peal, Blent with the maddened wind's wild bugle-note; The lightnings flash, the solid wood lands reel! Ha! many a foliaged guardian of the height, Majestic pine or chestnut, riven and bare, Falls in the rage of that aerial fight, Led by the Prince of all the powers of air! Vast bouglhs, like shattered bannlers hurtling fly Down the thick tumult: while, like eme'ald snow, II 239 LA TE P OEMMS. Millionls of orphaned leaves make wild the sky, Oi drift in shuddering helplessness b)elowi. As tremulous wave on wave, with freiglhtage sweet Of muirmured music, fawned about her feet, Then died in one divine, harmonious siglh; The breeze bewitched, could only falter nigh, And in shy delicate wafts of hlomage play With her rare tresses; like incarnate May, She seemed the earth, the tides, the lfeaveon, to bl ess: For once I gazed on Beauty's perfectness. Still, still. the levelled lances of the rain At earth's half-slhielded breast take glittering aim; All space is r ife Mwith fury, racked with pain, Earth bath ed in vapor, and heaven rent by flamiie! At last the cloud-battalions through long rifts Of luminous mists retire;... the strife is done; And earth once more her wounded beauty lifts, To meet the healing kisses of the sun. I gazed for somne rapt momenets, but no more; Then lowered mine eyes and slowly left thle shore ilade marvellous by that vision of de lighlt; Yet evermiore its beauty, day and nighlt, Standing between the blue sky and the THE VISION B I' THE SEA. sea, Shines like a star of inmmiortality Thlroughll all mly being; it becomes a part Of the deep life that quickens soul and lhealrt To sense of things ideal and supreme A palpable bliss, yet wed(ded to a dream. A iH-AUT T-NG face! with strange, ethereal eyes, Deep as unfathomed gulfs of tranquil skies Wvhenl o'er their brightness a vague mist is drawn, Breathed from the half-veiled lips of melting dawn; A mouth whose passionate love and sweetness seem B3ut just released from kisses in a dream; A brow like Psyche's, pensive, broad, and low And white as winter's whitest wreath of snow; AWhile round that gracious forehead, c almly f air. Ripples an April rain of golden hair. I A-.I happy with her I love, In a circle of charmed repose; My soul leaps utip to follow her feet Wherever my darling goes; Whether to roam thlrougll,h the garden walks, Or pace the sands by the sea; - There's never a shadow of doubt or fear Brooding'twixt lher and iiie: - But through memory's twilight mists, Sometimes, I own, in sooth, Falters the face of one I loved In the fervent years of youth; For some rapt moments, on the ocean strand, IIUconscious, beaultiful, I saw her stand, i I ,)40 Ill. 0 11 A thing of beauty is a joy forever." 1. 0 THT-, Y F-4 (F. II. THE RED LIL Y. Though bright her eyes' bewild(ering gleams, Fair tremulous lips and shining hair, A something born of moulnful dreams, Breathes round her sad enchanted The soft pathetic brow is there, With its glimmer and glance of golden hlair, nd(l scarcely shadowed by death's eclipse 1lhe delicate curve of the faultless lips, The tlreimulous, tender lips I kissed, So coyly raised at the sunset tryst, As we stood from the restless world apart, 'Mid the lwhispering foliage, heart to heart, In the fail, far years of youth. Yet, the vision is pu'e as heaven, Untouched by a hint of strife Fromll the passion that moved itself to sleep, On the morning stra(nd of life; Anld I know that my living Love woudld feel The tremor of ruthftl tears, If I told of the sweetness and hope that drooped, So soon in the vanished years: She would not banish the phantoln sad Of a beauty discrow-ned and low;;Can jealousy rest in the rose's breast Of a lily under the snow? Can the passion so warm and strong to-day Envv a ghost fromi the cypress shades For an hour astray? Or, the love tha waned like a blighted MaA l, In the dead days, long ago, All! long, how long ago! -No blithesome thoughts at hide and seek From out her diinples smiling start; If still the rose be on her cheek, A thorn is in her heart. Young lover, tossed'twixt hope and fear, Your vlwhispered vow and yearning eyes Yon marble Clytie pillared near Could move as soon to soft replies; Or, if she thrill at words you speak, Love's memory prompts the sudden start; The rose has paled upon her cheek, The thorn has pierced her heart. I CALL her the Red Lily. Lo! she stands From all her milde r sister flowers apart; A conscious grace in those fair-folded hands, Pressed on the guileful throbbings of her heart! I call her the Red Lily. As all airs Of North or South, the Lily's leaves that stir, Seem lost in languorous sweetness that despairs Of blissful life or hope, except through her; SItE'S loveliest of the festal throng In delicate form and Grecian face; A beautiful, incarnate song: A marvel of harmonious grace; And yet I know the truth I speak: From those gay groups she stands apart, A rose upon her tender cheek, A thorn within her heart. So this Red Lily of maids, this human flower, Yielding no love, all sweets of love (lotlF t ake, Twining such spells of passion's secret power As, woven once, what lordliest will can break? I 241 air; I I .0 THE, P,, E D L II, I I 0 THE POSE A-VD THOP,-Y. '242 LATEB POEMS.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Till the fairest young (lawn of September Lay wan on her death-shadowed face. ONE day the River of Life flowed o'er The verge of hleaven's enchanted shore, And falling withlout lapse or break. Its waters formed this wondrous lake. When wildly and weirdly from sea-ward, A low wind how mournfully stole! Like an anthem outbreathed for the morning, Thus sternly divorced from her soul! Hence the far sheen of Eden palms Is miirirored in its silvery callus, And all its rich cerulean dyes Are deep as Iaphlael's splendid eyes. THIE I_NE VITABLE CALM. And hence the uniniagined grace A-Which sanctifies this lonely place,A subtle, soft, ethereal spell Of light and sound ineffable. TAE socrbre Asings of the tempest, In fetterless force uiifurled, Buffet the face of beauty, Alnd scar the grace of the world; Surely such tempered glory paints The mystic City of the Saints; Such music breathes its dying falls Above the heavenly palace walls. But they fade at length with the darkIec nfess, And softly from sky to sod Peace falls like the dew of Eden, ! Froin the opened palhn of God! 0 lake of peace! whose still expanse Gleams throu,ghl a golden-misted trance, Earth holds thee sacred and apart, The cloistered darling of her heart. Earthquake, the angered Titan, A continent cleaves apart; Yet soon the glamour of quiet heals Earth's smitten and tortured heart. And soon o'er the ruinii of cities The sun-bright virginal grass Courtesies and curves into (limiples, At the kiss of the winds that pass. As I gazed on the prospect enchanted, On waves the sun-glory had kissed, There slowly swept down from the dis t anc e, The phantom-like bands of the inist. One lesson all nature teaclhes, As bahln to the troubled breast, That after the turmoil of passion There cometh a time of rest. On their feet that were spectrally sound less, They glided fantastic and chill, While a prescient pallor crept over The beauty of lake-side and hill! For the anguish of life wanes downward Like fire unfanniie(d by a breath; And deep is the ashen stillness On the hearthstone cold of death! All nature grew cold at their advent! Like Thugs of the air, demon-born, With their coils of blue vapor they strangled The virgin effulgence of morn. Lo! in its still, soft-shrouded place, The pathos of a death-pale face! By that ambush of darkness was girdled Each bright beam in dreary embrace, I view the marks of mortal ca re Time's hopeless sorrows branded there. i I I I 24 —) LATF,R POEMS. L.4KE IVIiVVIIII,5EOGEE. i i I I i i 0 LAKE [Composed 1-iear Lake Wiiinipiseogee.] THE, DEAD LOOK. JE'S A I/. Though his sealed sight the death-mists inar, He hath a strange look, fixed afar: Waning beneath the noiseless glide Of Lethe's dim,,ethereal tide, As furrows on some twilight lea Fade in calm wave-sweeps of the sea! As if wan folds of curtained eyes Trembled almost in act to rise, Across that bare, unbended brow The chrism of peace has fallen now, And show where each cold-lidded sheath Now,veils the wide, weird orbs beneath, And, lightening life's austere eclipse, A star-soft smile hath touched the lips: The mirrored glow, the blest surprise Of some first glimpse of Paradise! "While grimly down the moonlit bay, The wrecked hull gleamed from far." JETSA,V. BESIDE the coast for many a rood Were'fragments of a shipwreck strewn; An d there in sad and soalobre mood I walked the sands alone. Yet stay! what tiny sparkling thing Shines faintly in the moonbeams cold? I stooped, and wondering, grasped a ring, .A fairy ring of gold. Torn bales and broken boxes lay, Heaped high'mid shattered sails and spar, While grimly down the moonlit bay The wrecked hull gleamed from far. Well had the storm its mission wrought, With thunder crash and billowy roar; For not one precious waif was brought Safe to the rugged shore. 243 Of great and sinall, of rich and rare, Of all yon stranded vessel bol-e, Only this gein the waves would spare To cast unharmed ashore. With what a deep and tender thrill I put the modest ge'm away, And while the silvery -vapors chill Crept ghost-like up the bay, iL 7 1J 1R P (O I1,'IS. oThe galiiruloiis sparro ws, in liome-welii(l iing flocks, Sought their rude nests anong those shattered tombs, Veiled now in vesper glooms; Till o'er the scene a mystic influence stole; The wave-enamored winds their pin ions fulrle(l; Pale Silence clasped the world. Beside a grave, the lowliest of the whole Obscure republic of the fameless dead, Pausing, I imiused, and said: - All graves are equal! Ilis, the laurelled, great, Miraculous Shakspeare's, sonice far day shall rest As level on Earth's breast, And all unknown — through stern be hests of Fate As this, round which the rustling dock-leaves imieet Here, tangled at niy feet. All graves are equal to all-conquering Tiime; Scornful, hlie laughs at Inonumnental stones, Wasting a great mnan's bones, A great iman's sepullchre, thoughl reared sublime Toward heatvenll, until both stone and record pass, Mlocked by the flippant grass; The feeblest weeds in Nature flaunting high Above a Shlakespeare's or a Dante's dust: Just then a gentle gust Breathed fromn beyond the gloaming: Nig hit' s fi rst sigh Of conscious life touched the awakened trees, And blended with the sea's I dreamiiedI of shiirerinig hIunilan liNes AWrecked oni Faite's cold aild cruel lee, Trusting that soiie small hiope Survives, Sparetl to tlhen froii' the sea! E IAIELESS' GI?A TES. I WA-LKEt) the ancient graveyard's am ple round. Yet found therein not one illustrious name AAedded by Death to Fame. The sea-winds moaned by each deserted moun-id, WVhere mouldering marbles shed their pungent nust O'er that worn human dust. Thin clouldlets passed, with purpled skirts of rain Grazing the sentinel pine-trees, gaunt and tall; Some trembling to their fall. From out the misty marsh-lands next the main, Long lines of curlews in the sunset flame, WAith dissonant noises came; O'ersw-ept the tombs in slow, high -wheeling flight, And while the sunset verged on eve ning's gray, Faded, ghostlike, away. Yet down the dusky, shimmiiering, weird tw-ilighti (Thongit lost their forms beyond the outmost hill), Their strange cries sounded still; Prolonged by elfin echoes,'mid the rocks, Or lapsing in sad, plaintive wails to die 'Twixt darkling wave and sky. .)44 I; E,~ -A - - - f~~~~~~E -C 0 -- 0 * *I I - - - - - -- 0 0 .- 0 0 - 0 _ -- - - - - 0 0 - I It0 -~ ~~~~~~~~~ -- - - -~~~~~~~~~~~~ -~~~I c 0 -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 0 - 0 - I - -- - - - - - 0 -- - I - - - - I) A - - - 1. w w 0 , - 0 - 0 1 1 - t 0:= -, S ,2 _ 11 7 - I .4 - g, tt -' g 1-10 .:. I ,T 0 I , t 'R 0, -, f) til T P, 9 ii) LA'LAi7'EI POEMS. Nor knew whose arni had smitten him deep and so-e -- So deep that Tristrani never, never Store Shone in the van of conflict; but the 'Ne'er spake nor stirred he, thioughl the trumpet's sound Echoed abroad, and all the glittering ground Shook to the steel-clad warriors' swift advance; Of his fierce wound tortured him night and (lay, Till, through God's grace, his life-blood ebbed away, And deathi's sweet quiet healed his broken heart. -Ne'er spake n-or stirred he, for the mys tic hour Closed o'er hiiim then; the glamyouir of its power wtrea h-wrought, and sadly b eautiful wNAithl love Love of the lost Iseult. In marvellous stead Of thronging faces, with looks stern and dread, Through the den-se dust. the hostile plumies above, T o "Whei the bill-side breaks into green, every phollow of blue shade, every curve of tuft, and pIuine and tendril, every brokeii siubeaiii oii I spray of young leaves is am. No sprisig is a represecttutioei of oiiy forier sln'itj!."G,OET I IE. He saw his fair, lost Iseult's passionate eyes, And o'er the crash of lances heard her cries, Slirill with despair, when last they twiain did part. A SOFTE-N-ING of the mnisty heaven, A subtle miurimuir in the air; The electric flashi through coverts old Of niany a shy wing, touched with gold; The streaw's umnufiled voice, that calls, -Now shriill and clear, now silvery low, As if a fairy flute did blow Above the sylvan waterfalls; Each mellowed sound, each quivering wing Heralds the bappy-liearted Spring: Eartli's best beloved is drawing near. hliile others thrilled to strife, lie, thrilled with woe, Felt his life-currents shuddering cold and low PRound the worn bastions of his broken heart. Then rolled his way the battle's furious flood; Squadrons charged on him blindly; blows a nd blood Showered down like hall and water; vainly drew Amid the deepest woodlandl dells, So late forlornly cold and dr-ear-, Wafts of mild fervor, procreant ibreaths Of gentle hieat, unclose the shieathis Of fresh-formed buds on bower and tree; A spirit of soft revival looks Coyly from out the yoiing-leaved nooks, Jlust diimpling into greenery; Thiroughi flashes of faint primrose bloomi, Through delicate gleam and golden glo ofd, The wonder of the world draws near. The whole war round him; still his broadsword's gleam Flashed in death's front, and still, as wrappe d in dream, He foughlt and slew, witting not whomi he slew, ,-' 4 6 I siiiart H-LVI'S OF SP-R]-VG. [CO —NII'OSED IN SICK —,-ESS.] THE Hl WK. -'THE Tl UTE HEAVEN. On some dew —sprinkled, cloudless morn, She, in her full-blown joyance rare, Will pass beyond her Orient gate, Smiiling, serene, calmly elate, All garmiilented in light and grace: Her footsteps on the hills shall shine In beauty, and her matchless face Make the fair vales of earth divine. O goddess of the azure eyes, Tile deep, deep charm that never dies, Delay not long, delay not long! Conme clad in perfume, glad with song, Breathe on me from thy perfect lips, Lest mine be closed, and death's eclipse Rise dark between Me and thine advent, tender queen, Albeit thou art so near, so near! THE bliss for which our spirits pine, That bliss we feel shall yet be given, Somehow, in somne far realm divine, Some marvellous state we call a h-eaven. AMBUSHED in yonder cloud of white, Far-glittering from its azure height, Hle shrouds his swiftness and his might! Is not the bliss of languorous hours A glory of calm, measured range, But life which feeds our noblest powers On wonders of eternal change? But oft across the echoing sky, Long-drawnn, though uttered suddenly, We hear his strange, shrill, bodeful cry. A heaven of action, freed from strife, With ampler ether for the scope Of an immeasurable life And an Lnbaffled, boundless hope. Winged robber! in his vaporous tower Secure in craft, as strong in power, Coolly hlie bides the fated hour, When thro' cloud-rifts of shadowy rise, Earthward are b ent his ruthless eyes, ANWhere, blind to doom, the quarry lies! A heaven wherein all discords cease, Self-torment, doubt, distress, turmoil, The core of whose majestic peace Is godlike power of tireless toil. And from dense cloud to noontide glow, (His fiery gaze still fixed below), He sails on pinions proud and slow! Toil, without tumult, strain or jar, With grandest reach of range endued, Unchecked by even the farthest star That trembles thro' infinitude; Till, like a fierce, embodied ray, He hurtles down the dazzling day,A death-flash on his startled prey; In which to soar to higher heights Through- widening ethers stretched abroad, Till in our onward, upward flights We touch at last the feet of God. And where but now a nest was found, Voiceful, beside its grassy miound, A few brown feathers strew the ground! 247 0 VL'I,' 7'IIE I" 1. OVER tlle crystal waters Slie leans in careless -race, Sniiling to view within tliein Her own fair liappy face. II. The waves that -lass her beauty No tiniest ripple stirs: What huinan heart thus coldly Could niirror -race like hers? 0 THE TI? UF, HF, A VEY. THF, H.4 WK. LA IER I POEMS. dThuls, Awhlen our lieart-gri(Ifs seek ariglit Somne hleavenly Thloughlt's miajestic( lheig,1t, Their passion, toutched by loftiei air, Dissolves in tender miists of prayer! Jefferson Ilill IHouse, Vhiite M)ouitaiiis,.1. Septemiber, 1879. Iuitne s-allonved in eterownity! -No future everImior-e; no past, But one unending — ow, to be A boundless cir-cle round us cast! OIi! sweet and soft, }letur'niung oft, As oft they pass benignly, The w-arn June breezes come and go, Throughl golden rounds of murmurous flow, At length to sigh, Wax faint and(l die, Far down the panting primrose sky, Diviniely! e ig eyes,: Or else as w-eary seasons pass Alas! atlas! Our tend(ler-est love growvs wan and (lies. The fatal years like seas expand 'Twixt souls that long have (Iwelt apart, Till, broadening o'er our l)eilg's verge, The rutlhless surge Love's memnory swveeps from out the heart. Though soft and low These breezes blow, Their voice is passion's wvholly; And ahl! our hearts go forth to imeet The burden of their music sweet, Ere yet it sighls, Faints, falters, dies, Down the rich path of sunset skies - Half glad, half melancholy! 0 Absence! tmhoi inreverenced Death! Thy dense, uconsecrated clay Inurins affection past regret; No hiint is set Tlhereon of Eesnirectioin Day. Bend. bend thine ear! Oh! hiark and hear What vows each blithe new-comer, Each w-arm June breeze that comes and goes, Is whispering to the royal rose, And star-pale lily, trembling nigh, Ere yet in subtlest harmony its mnurmurs die, Wax faint and die, On thy flushed bosom, passionate sky, Of yoftthful stulmer! I LIFT thee, tlhus, tlhou brown and l rug ged cone, W'vell poisedl and high, Between the flowering grasses and the sky; And, as sea-voices dwell In the fine chaillbers of the ocean-shlell, So faney's ear Willin thy nulil)erless, dimn complexities Hatlh seemed ofttimes to hear Thc imprisoned spirits of all winds that blow; Winds of late autuLnn that lamenting moan A.3I OU-VTALIV FAVCY. [Ilespectfully inscribed to Mrs. P. S. Storrs.] CLOSE to each mountain's towering peak A white cloud leans its tearful cheek, Till all its soul of mystic pai nm Dissolves in slow, soft, vaporous rain. I -)4, 7'IIF, Bl,EEZE OF JTT-VE. 0 -LOI'E. AVE iiee(I the clasp of liaii(I iii liaiid, The li lit flaslie(I ii fi-oiii ii(i lll)or I 9 iI i Tllr TALLEX PIXE-COXE. 0 STERN TIIU[ i7'H lAllyNSF1GUI'ED. — O()RIZONS. Thus frowning truths whose roots are fur-led Round bases of some granite world, Mlay lift their mellowved ligh-t afaa, Transfigured by love's iimorning-star. — Across the wild sea-surges' ebb and flow; .toiin-winds of winter mellowed to a SighI, Long-draw-n and plaintive; or-honw lingerinigly!Soft echoes of the spring-tide's jocund breeze, Blent with the summer south wind, mur linurilng low! WHY is it that yon far-off, mellowed horn Sounds like an antique story, half-f'or lorn, Half-sweet, with iterance of rare echoes sent Up the serenely listening firmament? AVhat wonider, fairy cone, that thou slhouLld'st hold lThe semblance of these voices? day and night, l'rol(dly enthroned upon the wavering height Of yvon monarchal pine, thou did'st absorb The elemental virtues of all airs, Tinfi( or bold. Meastures of gentle joys and wild despairs, Breatlhed( fromi all quarters of our change ful or]); AWhether with mildness freighted or with mighlt, Into tlhy form they entered, to remain Each the strange phantom of a perished tone. An eerie. marvellouls strain Pent in this tinv Ilad(es iiad(le to fold (Ghosts of the heavenly couriers long ago, ,unk as mlen dreamed by ocean and by shore, Into the void of silence evermore! I thrill, soul-smitten by each melting toin e About the golden distant spaces blown, As if soft pathos came on rhythmic sighs From out the heart of vanished centu ries. Distance is magic! in its fairy hold Are alchemies that change even dross to gold, - While beauty's nymph, too closely seen or pressed, Melts to mere shadow from the enamored quest! HOlelZONS. I LOVE to gaze along the horizon's verge - To strain my sight where steeped in golden-gray The sun-illurnined v apors genitly surge, To inelt in mleasureless distances awvay. TIOSE moiuntain forms of giant girth Are rooted deep in moveless earth; But lo! their yearning heights with lrani-n, Are melting in soft seas of dawn. I gaze and gaze, till tears bedim my eyes, And tongueless fancies haunt me, vague and fond; Ethereal boundary! blending earth and sk ies, Ah! dost thou. veil some marvellous realhni beyond? AW~hat golden lights and shadows kiss Brown ledge and Titan precipice! Till all the rock-boa nd s ullen space Glows like a visionary face: DIS TANCF,. 0 STEP,-V TPUTHS T-RANSFIGURED. '2O LAHil P()EM. Deep spirit of mine! thou, too, art strangely bound By far horizons, vaporous, dim, and vast; Beyond the range of whose enchanted round, Not even the genii of weird dreams have passed! And wafts of vague earth-perfume blown Up to the pine-tree's quivering cone, From heathl-flowers hidden in cool gowass, - Like spells of delicate balm, ye pass Into my wearied heart and brain. What room for any sordid pain Within me now? All! Nature seemns Through something sweeter than all dr-eanms, To woo Ime; yea, she seems to speak How closely, kindly, her fond cheek R ested on mille, her mystic blood Pulsing in tender neighborhood, And soft as any mortal maid, Half veiled in the twilight shade, Who leans above her love to tell Secrets almost ineffable! IL THE GRA I OF THE E VENJIAG. WHEN o'er yon forest solitudes The sky of autumn evening broodsA heaven whose wvarp, but palely bright, Shot through with woofs of crimson lighit, So slowly wanes with waning day - Whatever thoughts, pathetic, sweet Are wiont to fawn round Memory's feet, Pleading with soft and sacred stress To be uipcaught in tenderness; AWhatever thoulghts like these there are, Choose the weird hour'twixt sun and star, Of failing breeze, and whllisperous sea, And that still heaven o'er leaf and lea, To come - each thought a temperate bliss - Embracing the calmed soul, to kiss The pallor of old cares away. WITIIOUT the squares of intiste(d palle, I saw the wan auitunmnal rain, And heard, o'er tufts of churchyard glass, The wind's low m7iisere/re pass. Withlin, more bright for outwar(l glooin, I saw her wild-rose cheeks abloom, And, deep as stars in uippermost skies, The lustre of dark Syrian eyes! O twilight sky of mellow gray, Flushed withl faint hues! O voiceful trees, Lilting low ballads to the breeze! O all ye mild amenities Wherewith the solemn eve is rife, At this strange hour'twixt death and life; The death of beauteous day, whose last Dim tints are almost overpast, Who lives alone in odors blent Of every subtlest element, Borne on a fairy rain-like dew, Exhaled, not dropped from out the blue; The life of stars that one by one Are mustering o'er the sunken sun, Without, still drearier grew the s igh Of the chill east wiind slhdde(lreiing by, Wilder the sa(l, stranige mnoaning miiade Beneath the elhn-tiees' rayless slhade. Withinf as if the ermhl)o(lied south Had opened her elclhanited m-iouth, I caught, tlhrouglh tw-iliglht's gray eclipse, The music froiy her gracious lips. 250 L A 7'1,,P-, l'O E J I S. .6 AUTUMN. THE VISIO-Y A7' TJVILTGIIT. [To E. R., October, 1879.] It breathed siich sweetness, purely deep, On any dull pain it dropped like sleep. How vain," I thou,-,ht, " this gathering -looi-n; Some lieaveiilv -Dresence fills the room! 11 "0 twilight sky of mnellow gray, Flushed with faint hues." AV HOUR TOO LAI'E. -'IILE LOR,DSHIP Oh' C01:1,'. 'nd in-lhen her w-arm lalau(l, p)ulsilng v-Oltli, ()n mine she pressed iiin guileless rutlh, ()le imoment, charmied thlrough blood and brainn, I felt imyv owvn lost vouLtlh againi! AVWhile slhe -a simple miiaid - repl ied: "'No miore of love'twvixt thlee and mie! 'I'hese tricks of passion I derile, -Lor trust tlhy boaste(d verity. Thly suit, -ithl artful smile and siglh, Resi gn, r esign: iYo )Jc(tc (a. IJ'o)' thee o' tlhiJ)e, Bei11yl too lowv, y,t(!! too hiigh! " A-itli quickened heart and lifted head I view-ed the vision near my bed, 1',tt lovelier for that enivious gloorn, I Ier lheavelnly presenice blessed the rooimi! Ilis spirit clhanged(l; his lheart grew warnii acitli gelnuine passion; miorn by inoini 3lore perfect seiemed the virgin chlarni That crown\ed hler'mid the ripening corn. Anid now hle wooed wiithl fervent mieiin, AVith soul intense, and words of fire, But reverence-f raLlughllt, as if a queen Aere hcearlkening to lis heart's desire. Shec brilghtly blushed, slhe gently sighe(Il, 'Ye t still tle villate miaid r eplied (Th.louIgh in sad accents, wearily): "Thy suit resign, PResigin, resign! Lo)'d Hltthli, I iier,er cal J b)e thiiie. Too lotw (m I, (,idt1 yet too hilh!" L II-:N-E loved you, oh, lhowv madly! i lhave w-ooed you softly, sadly, As the clhangefuil years weent by; Yet you kept vouer lhaugllty distance, Yet you scorned miy brave persistence, Ahliile the loing, long years went by.T Now- that colde r lovers leave vou, Now- that Fate and Timie )bereave you 'For the cruel years t,ill fly-), in -your I)eauty s pale (leclension Yon would( grace w-ithl co(ndesenesion ''lThe love that totuchled you never AWlien yiour bloonii and hlopes were higih. TlE LOID,SHIP OF 1CORFU. A LI,;GEND OF 151G. WHA lT tile o'er gory lands alid threat euinig seas Fair fortune, wearied, fled( the GenioeseAVIlat time from i many a realhn the wa tetrs 0oo III the wanll solitl. "'[Irlio ilotv shol I.?I/(, lo):fti? * RIose withl the eager passioln and fierce greedl Of those who )preyed onI every emipire's liee(l,There fell uponl that isle's d(lislicarteed briave A wild despair, such as in one dark ,,rave Mcight well have whelied the prostrate nationi's pride, Ahl b)uit wh-liat if I discover That too long in antiqtue fashion I hiave nulrised a fruiitless passioni, AW-hose ra,e anid reigni (tlhank Ileavel!) Are passed at lengthl a(nd over — That fate lhatlh locked forever love's golden Eden gate? '1'here's a w-ronig beyond redressing, There's a prize not worthl possessing, AndI a la(ly s condle scen sion MNay come an lhouLr too l(tte! IIE camne in velv-et anid ini gold; le w-ooed her wiithl a careless grace; A co infi le lnc e too rasll y old 13reatlhed in hiis lanigutage ali(t hiis face. Iler ionoi. strength, tradi tions -all 1eid 2.5 1 0 ,4-'V IIO(-],' TOO L.47'E. i i i i I -l'OO LOIT- A-V-D I'El' TOO HIGH!" LA 1 Ell' P()OE'MS. Which crowns a race with sovereignty. Sublime Above the reckless purpose of his time Their Patriarch stood, and such wise words hie spake The basest souls are thlrilled, the feeblest wake To some highl aimi, some passion grand and free, Some cordial grace of magnanimity: By such unwonted power they yield their all To him that came, as if at Godhead's call, To save the state, whose stricken pillars reel. How works the Patriarch for his people's weal? Calmly hlie bids tllemr launch their stanch est keel - A gorgeous galley: on her decks they raise Great golden altars, girt by lights that blaze Divinely, and by music's mystic rain, Blent of soft spells, half sweetness and half pain, Fallen from out the highest heaven of song. And there. to purify all souls of wrong And latent sin, he calls from far and near Nobles and priests and people. Every where The paths are full, which, sloping steeply down From the green pasture and the walled town, Lead oceanward, where, anchored near the quay, That sacred galley heaved along the sea - Her captain no rude mariner, with soul Tough as the cordage his brown hands control, But the gray Patriarch, lifting eyes of prayer, While o'er the reverent thousands, calin in aii, The sacred host slone like an awful star. "Children! " th e Pat riarch cried, "If strong ye ar e To tr u st i n heav en-albe it heaven's message sent This day throulgh me, seem strange, and strangely blent With chance-fel issues-sswear, Adhat e'er beti(le, When once olr unmoored bark doth fleetly glide O'er the blue spaces of th e mid land s ea - What flab soe'er first greets our eager view, Our ow n to veil, and humbly yield there to The faith and sovereign claims of fair Corfu. " They vowed a vow roethinks ne'er vowed before, The while their galley, strangely laden, bore Down the south wind, which freshly blew from shor-e. Past Vido and San Salvador they sped, Past stormy heights and capes whose rock-strewn head Baflled the surges; still no ship they met, Till, sailing far beyond the rush and fret Of shifting san(l-locked bars, at last they gain The open and illimitable main. There in one line two gallant vessels rode; From this the lurid Crescent banner glowed, From that the rampant Lion of St. Mark's! 2"-)2 '.I1,LLULAH,I.ULLS. 3Ilueli, muchl tlhey wondeiedtl wlhen atlih-art tlieli (Irew,es WAith glittering decks, tihe galley from Corfu, Lighted by tapers tall of miyriad dyes, And echloilg clhants of holy litallies. Soon into b)oth the self-same message came; For loutd o'er antique hlymn and altar flallle Thrilled tlhe chief's voice, " Hearken, ye ri-val powers! Whicliever first may touch our a,i-lin(d tows-elis* Theiicefoitl i shiall be the lords of fair (,olft!" Chlangel was tlhe winul, and landward Inow it Ilew: Smiiting, thle wave-(s to foan-fltakes wild and i-llite. All sails Iweie Iracel, tlle rowers rowe(d witlh miallet. But soon tli island iiimen turned pale to The TrI i's 1p "-o suriing vawx-ard(l stead il\v. Till fi-e full leigtlls aheiati, carem('i-ig fast. With flitilitilig flag and baclkward-swoop iing mIiast. And scores of laboring r ower-s bent as one Toward oars which made cool lightnings in the sun, The Pavnim craft - unless some mar vellouLs thing Should hap to crush her crew or clip her wing - Seemed sure as that black Fate which urged her on Victor to prove, and that proud island race To load with sickening burdens of dis grace! * Thllese " Towers," we 111ust remenber, were built in with the substance of the city walls, which rose abruptly out of the waters of the sea. ed slhore Naught but the freshening sea wind's hollow roar Was heard, with flap of rope ard clang of sail, Veering a point to catch the chlanging gale, Or furious lashes of the buffeting oar! ,Just then the tall Venetian strangely changed i-ler steadfast course, with open port holes ranged '(Gainst the far town. Across the sea waste came, First, a sharp flash and lurid cloud of flailie, Then the l d,ull boomn of the on-speeding ball, Followed bv sotiii(Is whiichl to the isles menl se(mnll Sweet as the wa, ke(,iing -fromi some night imiar-e (Ilieaii - Tli( soundi(s of sp)linteretl tower and craslhin wall! -Then rose a slirill cry to the shivering hieav-en - '; Tha1t.% tlh its to ~i.,; yott) island(t(l raealm is qice)?! " Burst as one voice fr-om out the conquer ing crew: l" Thus Ve(-ice claimos the lordship of Co):f!i" . TALLJULA 11 FALLS. ALONE with nature, whlere her passion ate mood Deepens and deepens, till from shadowy WoodL, And sombre shore the blended voices sound Of five infuriate torrents, wanly crowned With such pale-misted foam as that which starts To whiteninffi lips from frenzied human hearts! 253 And now on crowded decks and crowd its ceirreunt Sp'arklllg 111 lc o ies( ie lease From wastinig passioni, glides tllhrouigh slhores of peace,O'er brigittened spaces ancd cleaLr co01 flueent calms, Float the lhatle l)reatltinigs of near ea(ld ow b)alms, Ailnd still by sileut cove ani(l silvery reaclh, The Illliiriilnurous wavelets pass; Lip thle grerl tendrils of tli( (lelicate grass, And tranquil hiour by lhouir, Uplift a crystal glass, Wlhereini ea(chi litlhe i r( issi s-fiow er, Mlay imalk its slli(l(' fiaiiime a(nd bean teoiis fae,( o eirioried(l iii softly visioiiary grace, Aod(h still, a)n faiiy-e)iglt ahe(i slelving beach, The fair woaves wliis)eir low ts leaves in ,'j11l1(~ (Siiiall gossips lisping in their woo(ila-i bo-er), Atird still, the ever-lesseniing ti(le l,aIpses, as glides soliie oli(e imperious life Froni haughlty smiiiiiit s of (ldemoniac ttatred and ven a'eful strife, TDowl1 thiougli tliii('s t fwilihlit-valleys pr~llifiedl; Yearning, alone, to keep T- long-predestined tryst with nighlt ani( sleep, Beneatlh the dew-soft kisses of the mooni! In (laik recesses of some billowy hell, Buti sendillg ever thllrogli the trenintlotis air, D)efiaiice laden w-itli anguost despair U1i to the calmr atin pitiful face of lheavel i F'oII1 ledge to ledge tlhe imipettuouis curi, rent sweeps Foiever tortured. taneless, uinsnlb)(elled, Amlid the (lar-klv hluimi(I solit~ii(le, 'Tl1rot1ii wast' anl tii l)( leit (leI(e)s It cleav-es a teitil)le 1)atli\vwy, over ()hidv l))v donlflitfl flickerillngs of tllhe StIlll. To nie (t withl swift cioss-ed(Ilies, wlil i -cools s et Oit v-erges of somie i( easu'eless abyvss, Ab)ove the stir aid(I fret. T'he lion's hollowN- roar, or serpent hiss Of wvlhose iuniceasinig conflict waged be low bwr The ooires of the giant precipice, Shines tlhe mild slplendor of a hevely l)ow-. But bli(lnded to the rainbovw's glory shed Fair as the aureole'roiund( an angel's hlead Still w-ith dark vapors all about it furled The deionioi spirit of this watery worll, Through manyv a maddened curve, and stoitlryt thir oe, Speeds to its last tumuiiiltuotus overflow-, Only, sick healrt! like the sore t-olln(le(t (love Seeking her distant nest, hold fast to love, Till deatlh's deep curfew tolls its vesper bell. No soul lhatlh found its fellow; fates may blend In the close t ies of lover, husband, friend. Yet tliiouglhi soiIe subtle difference, iian ii fl'lol Ilalln "Gurgle, gurtle,,urgle, Over ledge ald stoIne." 7'HE ilEADO I V R3JOOK. GURGLE, gurgle gturgle, Over ledge and( stone; How- I'lm going -flowing, AWestw-ard, all alone; All alone. but hlappy, Hiappy and hlale am I, Claspedl by the emerald meadowss. Fltushled by the golden sky! But the sedges tlhrill above me, And( where I blitlhely pass, Coy winds, like inyimplis in ainlbislb, Seemi whispering througlh the griass. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle; Ilar-k! tlhe tiniy swell Of wavelets softly, silverly Toned like a fairy bell, NWhose every note, (dropped sweetly In nmellowed glamnour round, Echo liatli caught and larvested In airy sheaves of sound! No kindred brook is calling, To woo these tides ill glee; I hear no neighboring voices Of inlanid rill, or sea; L]A i'El' POEMS. His soul grew fresh, dew-like, and sweet again, And thlrough his past, his golden yester days, Ife wandered back and back, till youth, regained, Shone in the candid radiance of his eyes, AThat still waxed larger, holier, crystal clear, Witlh resurrection of life's tenderest. (I6tNN ii Of childlike faitlh; by which illumied and( wa,rnle(l, Ilte walks, himiself a dreamn within a dreanti, Yearning for infancy. This found at last, Gently lie passes upward unto (God, Not tlirosigli (I(eatls's p)ortal, wrapped in st,olill:,alltl wNri-atlh, But thle fair alrchway of thle gates of birth! [In Elian's "V arious History," book iii., clha,ter xviii., the following legend, or parable, will be found. How vividly it recalls to us the words of the Ataster: " lUln,less ye be converted, and become as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven! "] Ah- Orienit legend, wlhichl hiatlh all the light ind fragirance of the asphodels of hleaven, Smiiles oni us fromii old Elian's mellowed page; And thus it rutins, smooth as the stream of joy AWh1(ereof it tells., yet with somiie discord blent, AWhichll, hlearikened rightly, makes thl e T music trtle To imian's miiyster-ious instinlcts all([ his fate: In the strange valley of Anostan dwelt The far MLeropes, thlrough wlhose luillr snurous realnii Two miighlty rivers-o —ie a stream of joy, Divine and perfect; one a stream of baleFlow-etd side by side,'twixt forest shades and flowers (Bright shades and sombl)re, poison flow -e is and apur e), Down to a distant and aii uiniklnown sea. LET ine (lie by thle sea! Wilein hiis billows are hlaughlty aidl high, Anid thle stormii-wiind's abroad,AVisen ihis (lark passion grasps at the sky Witlw the powe r of a god,Whleni. a11 hiis fierce forces are free Let mie die by the sea. On either bank were fruit-trees and ripe fruit, WVhereof men plucked andt ate; bult -hoso ate Of the wan fruitage of the streamn of bale Went ever after weeping gall for tears, Till death should fintd hini; but whloe'er partook Of the rare fruitage of the stream of joy Straightway was lapped in such ecstatic peace, -Such fond oblivion of all base desires, Let imie die by tlhe seal To Isis rliytlhims of t(sempest and rain, I would pass fromii the eartlh, Thirotugh (leathl that is travail and p)ain, Tlirougl deatlr that is birtlh; 'Mid the thunlders of waves and of lea, Le' miie die by the sea. Let me die by th e sea! When the gr(at deeps are sundered and stirre(l, And the night cometh fast, Let imiy spirit imoiunt iup like a bird, On the wings of the blast. 2 -) 6 I'HF-, J' —ILLEI' OF AVOS7'4-N'. 0 7'[V 0 S 0 -A'G,. FIIIST SON(;. S 0TANNE TS. The spear-like grass, the silvery rim of morn, A cloud rose-edged, and fleeting stars at night! O'er the tumults of wave and of lea, O'er their ravage and roar, She would soar, she would soar, Where peace waits her at last: Oh! Fate, let me die by the sea. II. LAOCOON. A GNARPLED and massive oak log, shape less, old, Hewed down of late from yonder hill side gray, Grotesquely curved, across our hearth stone lay; About it, serpent-wise, the red flames rolled In writhing convolutions; fold on fold They crept and clung with slow portent ous sway Of deadly coils; or in nalignant play, Keen tol,ngues outflashled,'twixt vapor ous gloomn and gold. Lo! as I gazed, from out that flaming gyre There loonmed( a wild, weird image, all astrain NVithl strangled limbs, hot brow, and eyeballs dire, IBig with the anguish of the bursting brain: Laocoon's formn, Laocoon's fateful pain, A frescoed dream on flickering walls of fire! Ahl, no! Ah, no! I would not go AVWhlile earth and heaven are black:WhIlen all is wil(lly drear and dark, ua, guard, 0 God! this vita l spark! But I woulh go when winds are low, Ancl distant, dreamy rills Are lhear(l to lapse with lingering flow, B13etw-eeii the twilight hills: Withl earth, and wave, and heaven at peace, Tbleat let these outwnorni pulses cease. FRESIINESS OF POETIC PERCEPTION. I)AY followed (lay; years perish; still mine eyes Are opened on the self-same round of space; Yon fadeless forests in their Titan grace, And the large splendors of those opulent skies. I wiatch, unwiearied, the miraculous dyes Of dawn or sunset; the soft boughs whichl lace PRouncl some coy dryad in a lonely place, Trliilled witl] low whispering and strange sylvan sighs: Weary? the poet's mind is fresh as dew, And oft re-filled as fountains of the light. HIis clear child(l's soul finds something sweet and new Even in a weed's heart, the carved leaves of corn, AT LAST. IsN youth, when blood was warm and fancy high, I mocked at death. How many a quainit conceit I wove about his veiled head and feet. Vaunting aloud. Why nleed we dread to die? But now, enthralled by deep solemnity. Death's pale phantasmal shade I darkly greet: Ghostlike it haunts the hearth, it haunts the street, Or drearier makes drear midnight's mystery. 257 SECO-ND SONG. 0 SO -V-VE T,5. O-N V-A-PIOUS TIIE31ES. 1. Ill. LAT'ER POEMIS. Ahl, soul-perplexiing vision! oft I deem ( That antique mythl is true which pic tured death A masked and hideous formi all shrank to see; But at the last slow ebb of mortal breath. Death, his miask mielting like a night mi lare dreaigm, Smiled, — lheaven's hiighi-priest of Im mortality! (Once a fair garden, now a desert place ) Ah! what voluptuous ihues are these that rise In sudden lustre, oI mly startled eyes? They glow like roses on an orient face, Glimpsed in swift flashes of enchant ing grace, 'Twixt thle shiy hlarem's gold-wrouglht tapestries! Ye brighlt Japonicas! your glorious glcam Tints with strange light the enamored wvaves of air, And wafts of such coy fragrance round you float Fancy transcends these boundaries blanched and bare, For beauty lures her in a ravishing dreatin Of roseate lips, dark locks, and swan white throat! A PIIANTOMI IN TIlE CLOUDS. ALL day the blast, with furious ramip and roar, Sweeps the gaunt hill-tops, piles the vapors high, Tllro' ilfiniite distance, up the tortured skyTill to one nurtured on the ocean shore, It seems - -with eyes hlalf-shut to hill and mioorThe anguishled sea waves' mlultitudinoous cry - It changes! deepening.. Christ! what a~oiiy Doth some doomied spirit on these wild winds outpour! At last a lull! stirred by slow wafts of air! When lo! o'er dismal wastesof stormy wreck, Cloud-w-rought, an awful form and face abhorred! Thine, thine, Iscariot! smitten by mad despair, With lurid eyeballs strained, and wvrith inc n eck, Round which is coiled a blood-red phantomn cord! TIIE 17StJRPEIL. FOR weeks the languid southern wind had blowni, Fraught with Floridian balmn; tlhro winter skies We seemed to catch the snlile of April's eyes; A queenly waif, from her far temperate zone Wayfaring - half bewildered and aloine. Yet, by the delicate fervor of lher grace. And the archl beauty of her changeful face, Making an alien enpire all her own. So day by day that sweet usuirper's reigli Gladdened the world. One eve the soutlh wind siglhed Her soft soul out; the north wind rave(l instead; All night lie raved; when morning dawned again, Winter, irethlroned, looked down with scornful pride Where April, dying, bowed her golden lheatl! JAPONICAS. BEN-EATH the sullen slope of shadowy skies, Midmiost this flowerless, wind-bewil dered space IV. VI. V. SO:AVE T,S. Bloirn of deel) passion or nialign desire: 'c'Tley rtave iiii( tliund(ler-peals and clouds of fire. Wild, reckless all, save that sonme power unknown Guides eaclh blind force till life be overblown, Lost in vaguie hollows of the fathomless night. DE,CEJMfII, EI I SOX-N-ET. Po —UND thie Decenibel1 heiglhts the clouds are grayGray, a nd w-ind-drivel) tow-arld the storlmv west, They fly, like phantoms of mialign un11-o rest, To fad(le inI soinl)re distances avway. A flickering bri,lghtness o'er the wreck of (day, Tw-iligllt, like some sad maiden, grief oppressed, ]Broo(ds anly- on the farthest mountain crest; All nature b)reatlhes of darkness and decav N\ow fromt low mlea(lowv landl aind drowsy streaim. Fromii deep recesses of the silent A-ale, NighlIt-w-anldering vapors rise formliess and clill, AWhei. lo! o'er shlrouded wood( andl slbadom — hill. I mark the eve's victorious planet beam, Fair as an angel clad in silver mail! FATE, OII (,OD? oBEYOND the record of all eldest thliugs, lBoeyond the rule and regionls of past tiiiie, From out Antiquity's lionry-lieadedtl rilme, Loowifso tlwe (Iread plilanitonm of a King of kilg's ~ lFoulilti 1Ilis vast lb)ow-s the glittering .circle, l: lil~s Of a thlirice royal crownii; behind llimi CwIilIii), 0o'er hAtlaniiteaii linli)s an(l breast sublime The sombre splendors of mlysterious wVinigs; Deep calmns of measureless power, in awful state, Gird and utipliol( Hiim; a miraculous rod, To heal or smlite, arms His infallible hands: KnoN-wn in all ages, worshipped in all lanids, Doubt names this hlalf-embodied mys ter y- Fa,ite, AVhile Faitlh, wAitlh lowliest reverence, whispers - God! x. A COMIPARISON. I THIN\K, ofttimties, that lives of imen may be Lik hened to laandering winds that come and go, N-ot knowing w-hence they rise, wh-lithler thley blowe O'er the vast globe, voiceful of grief or glee. Somle lives are buoyant zephyrs sporting free In tropic sunshine; sonie long winds of w-oe That slhun the day, wailing w-ith mur ilurs low, Through haunted tw-ilights, by the un resting sea; Others are rutlhless, stormfnl, drunk w-itllh igi,llt, S t E T. Writtenl onl a, fly-leaf of " The Ru-baiyat" of Omiar lIlhAyydil, tlle astroinoimier-poet of Persia. Wh-io deems the soul to endless death is tlhrall, That no life breathes beyond that mo menit dire, When every sense seemx)s lost as out blown fire; 259 A'll. ix. -viii. LA TER POEMS. Must walk, clothed round wiith darkness like a pall, Or on false gods of sensual rapture call; Plotck the }'ich iose-leeres! lift the wine c u) high es! ,ed d(lelicote ILstiltet to mateligin Desire, (Like.soeite Geeck (ist clesped by a bai bcarotts Gaul!) Thus Omar preached, thus practised, centuries since; Wine, beautyt, idlesse, orgies crowned byl lust; All these hle chianted in voluptuous song; Yet * ho shall vow, deep Thlinker! poet Prince! Thy rhytllic creed the unnatural voice of wrong, If m (i, ist-I)oi-, sthll still return to dust? XII. SONNET. I LAY in dusky solitude reclined, The shadow of sleep just hovering o'er mine eyes, When from the cloudlaiud in the west ern skies oRose the strange breathings of a tremu lous wind. As sound upborne o'er water, through some blind, Mysterious forest, so this wind did rise. Laden, rnethouglht, with half-articu late sighs, Wafted like spirit-memiories o'er the mind. Then the night deepened; through my window-bairs I saw the gray clouds billowing fast and free, Smit by the splendor of the solemn stars. Then the night deepened; wind and clou d became A blended tumuiitlt, crossed by spears of flame, While the great pines nmoaned like a moaning sea. EARTII ODORS —AFTER RAIN. LIFE-YIEILDING fragrance of our mother earth! Benignant breath exhaled from summer show-ers!All N\ature dimples into smiles of flowers, From unclosed woodland, to trim gar den girtli;hThese perfumes softening the harsh soul of dearth, Are older than old Shlinar's arrogant tow ers,And touched with visions of rain-fresh ened hours, On Syrian lill-slopes'ere the patriarchl's birth! Nay! the charmied fancy plays a subtler part!Lo! banished Adamn, his large, wonder ing eyes Fixed on the trouble of the first dark cloud! Lo! tremulous Eve,-a pace behind, how bowed,Not dreaming,'midst her painful pants of heart, POVERTY. ONCE I beheld thee, a lithe mountain maid, Ermbrowned by wholesome toils in lusty air; Whose clear blood, nurtured by strong, primitive cheer, Through Amiazonian veins, flowed una fraid. Broad-breasted, pearly-teethed, thy pure breath strayed, Sweet as deep-uddered kine's curled in the rare Bright spaces of thy lofty atmosphere, O'er some rude cottage in a fir-grown glade. Now, of each brave ideal virtue stripped, O Poverty! I behold thee as thou art, 260 Xi. Xiii. NV]iat I)alin sliall fall froni yonder omi nous cloud! ONNETk. 61 A ruthless hag, the image of woeful dearth Or brute despair, gnawing its own starved heart. Thou ravening \vretclh! fierce-eyed and umonster-lipped, Why scourge forevermore God's beaute teous earth? paelO, L,ike some worn outcast, sick in heart and brai n. The wind that raved all night, thor ugh m mnttering s till, Moans fitfully, wi th fain t, irresolute will, Through dreary interl ude s, i ts l ow re frain. In desolate inood I turn to rest once more, Closing my senses to this hopeless niorn, This dismial wind. Still must the morning gloom, Still the low sighing pass sleep's muffled door, Till her veiled life is filled with dreams forlorn, Withl hollow sounds and bodeful shapes of doom. -VASTE. How many a budding plant is born to fade! How many a May bloom wilt with quick decay! Ofttimiies the ruddiest rose holds briefest sway, While heart and sense are evermore be trayed Alike in nature's shine and nature's shade. Vainly earth-tendered seeds have sought the day, And countless threads of rivulets wind astray, For one that joins the vast main unem bayed. O prodigal nature, why this spendthrift waste Of light, strength, beauty given to earth or man? Thy richest realm may lie in trackless seas, Thy tenderest loves, perchance, die un embraced; While faith and reason watch thy'wil derind plan, The baffled soul's cloud-compassed Hy ades! DEAD LOVES. WHENE'ER I think of old loves wan and dead, Of passion's wine outpoured in senseless dust, Of doomed affection's and long-biiried trust, Through all my soul an arctic gloom is shed; And ah! I walk the world disquieted. Thou, my own love! white lily of April! must Thy beauty, perfumne, radiance, all be thrust Earthward, to crumble in a grass-grown bed? Yea, sweet,'tis even so! How long, how long The dust of her who once was tender Ruth, Hath mouldered dumbly! And how oft the clod, Which binds, like hers, all perished love and truth, A MORNING AFTER STORM. ALL night the north wind blew; the harsh north rain Lashed like a spiteful whip at roof and sill. Now the pale mor ning lowers, bewil dered, chill, S 0 N V! L,'I'S. 261 Leaning liei- clieek against tlle misted XIV. XVI. XV. LATER POEMS. Somie Hermies' trick to steal the goods of fate. Fools! trench your Isthmus, delving fast and deep; And as ye toil uplift your boastful breath O'er swift inrushings of the turbulent sea - Too swift, by heaven! for, lo! its treacherous sweep O'erwhelms the graded dykes, the oppos iavg lea, While ye that mocked at fate, fate whirls to death! Strives with pale weeds to veil death's hopeless wrong, Or through chill lips o f flo wers a ppeals to God! XVII.. NATUERE AT EASE. I FEEL the kisses of this lingering breeze, Warm, close, and ard-i: as the lips of love, I quaff the sunshine streaming from above, Like mellow wine of antique vintages; Now-, serene nature, at luxurious ease, I1er deep toils perfected, and richly rife Waith subtlest imeanings- all her opu lent life Rev-eals in tremulous brakes and whis periing seas. If. then. the reverent soul dothI lean ariglht, (lose to those voices of wood, wind, and wave, AWhat wondrous secrets bless the spir itual ear, Born, as it were, of imusic winged with 'lght, Sweeter than those strange songs which Orpleus gave To earth and heaven, while both grew duimb to hear! XVIII. THEE CNYDIAN ORACLE. "IVoat t1io0tgh the Isthiimius lacks (a t ocecan-gate, Del'e Lot the soil! If Jorve hC( willeld it so, Itis?cotchfitl powei hail openied lonig ago 7'he chc)iiiellecl p)athwatys of a billowy strait." Thus spake the Cnydian Oracle but too late; For men are blinder than blind winds that blow Round midnight waves, yet idly dream they know THE IIY ACINTII. IIIERE in this wrecked storimi-wasted gar dell-close The grave of infinite eenerations fled Of flowers that now lay lustreless and dead, As the gray dust of Eden's earliest rose. What bloom is this, w hose classical beauty glows Radiantly chaste, w ith the mild splen dor shed Roun d a Greek virgin's poised and per fect head, By Phidias wirouighlt'twixt rapture and repose? Mark the sweet lines whose matchless ovals curl Above the fragile stem's half shrink ing grace, And say if this pure hyacinth doth not see,,, (Touched by enchanitmnents of an an tique dreamii) A flower no more, blit the low droop ing face Of some love-laden, fair Athenian girl? THE WOOD FAR INLAND. I CLOSE mine eyes in this lone inland place, This wood, far inland, thronged with somilbrous trees i i ')62 XIX. i i I I i i i i i XX. 1;1 -O,V, serelie iiatire, at l1xu i11 s (,iis( ... a ll lr opuleit li fe lieveals in tremul:ous brakes al]l -h isleriiig seals." SONNETS. Our southland pines - in whose dark boughs the breeze 3Iourns like a spirit shlorn of joy and grace; The salme wild genius whose half veiled face Dawns on the barren brink of wave wi-aslhed leas, Fraught with the ancient lmystery of the seas, WAhose hloary brow bears many a storm-bolt's trace; I close mine eyes; but lo! a spiritual light Steals round me: I behold through foam andl mist A dreary reach of wan, slow-shifting sanid, By transient glints of flickering star beams kissed, And hear upborne athwart the desolate stra nd Voices of ghostly billows of the night. XXII. MAGNOILIA GARDENS. YES, found at last,- the earthly para dise! Here by slow currents of the silvery streamn It smiles, a shining wonder, a fair dream, A matchless miracle to mortal eyes: What whorls of dazzling color flash and rise From rich azaleaii flowers, whose pet als teemn With such harmonious tints as bright ly gleam In sunset rainbows arched o'er perfect skies! But see! beyond those blended blooms of fire, Vast tier on tier the lordly foliage tower Which crowns the centuriedl oaks' broad crested calm: Thus on bold beauty falls the shade of power; Yet beauty still unquelled, fulfils desire, Unfolds her blossoms, and outbreathes her balm! XXI. [Composed just after midnlighlt on the 31st of Decemiiber, 1878.] A MOIMEN-T since his breath dissolved in air! And now divorced from life's last hectic glo-w, He joins the old ghostly years of long ago, In some cloud-folded realm of vague de spair; Ah me! the unsceptred years that wan der thlere! WVithl cold, wan hands, and faces white as sniVow, And echoes of dead voices quavering low The phantomi-burden of long-perishied care! Perchance all unsubstantialized and gray, Time's earliest year now greets his last, deceased; Or he that dumbly gazed on Adam's fall, Palely emerging from the shadowy east, XXIII. ENGLAND. CLOUID-G1RDED land, brave land beyond the sea! Land of my fathler's love! how oft I yearn Toward thy famnied ancestral shores to turn, Roamting thy glorious realhn in liberty; All English growths would sacred seem to nile, From opulent oak to flickering wayside fern; luchl from her delicate daisies could I learn, And all her hoine-bred flowers by lake or lea. 263 With flickerin- semblance of cold crown and pall, Clothes the diiii ghost of him just passed away! LATER POEMS. But most I dream of Shropslire's mead ow grass, Its grazing, herds, and sweet hay-scented air; An ancient hall near a slow rivulet's m-ioutlh; A church vine-clad; a graveyard gloom ing south; These are the scenes through which I fain would pass; There lived my sires, whose sacred dust is there. With mantling cheek and bold, imperious head! Alene she lifts above yon desolate bed A beauty past all terms of raptured praise, The statelier that she rules in autumn days, When every rival flower is dimmed( or dead! A haughty Cleopatra! there she smiles, Unwitting that her sovereign love is lostI1er Antony! a gorgeous sunflower bloom! Ah! vain henceforth her beauty and sweet wiles! Queen! art thou blind? Thy lord hlathli met his doom; His Actium came with winter's vail guard - Frost! xXVI. TIIE AXE A- ND PINE. ALL day, on bole and limb the axes r-ing, And every stroke upon my startled brain Falls with the power of sympathetic pain; I shrink to view each glorious forest king Descend to earlth, a wlan, discrowne(l thing. Ah, Heaven! beside these foliaged giants slain, How small the human dwarfs, lwhose l11st for gain Ilath edged their brutal steel to smnite and still-! Hark! to those long-d(rawn murmurrugs, strange and drear! The wail of Dryads in their last distress; O'er ruined haunts and ravished loveli ness Still tower those brawny arms; tones coarsely loud Rise still beyond the greenery's waning (,loud, While falls the insatiate steel, sharp, cold and(l sleei! XXIV. DISAPPPOINTMNIENT. AHi! phantom pale, why hast thou come with pace Thus slow, and such sad deprecating eyes? AWhat! dost tlhout dream thy presence could surprise One the born vassal of thy realm and race? I looked in boyhood on thy clouded face; In youth dissevered fromi all cordial ties, Heard the deep echoes of thy murmured sighs Ill many a shadowy, grief-enshirouded place; Therefore, 0 sombre Genius, be not coy! WV hen have we dwelt so alien and apart I could not faintly feel thy muffled heart? Till even shoulid hope's fruition softly shine, I well might deem beneath the mask of j oy Lurked that sad brow, those twilight eyes of thine! XXV. TIIE L,-AST OF THE ROSES. A ROYAL rose! A rose how darkly red! A proud, voluptuous, full blown flower, that sways Heir sceptre o'er the wvir.Ld-swi-ept gar 264 deii-wavs, SONNETS. 2'65 Thus, though thou inay'st not smite on BETEOTIIAL NIGHIT. TIIROuGH golden lainguors of low glim mering light, Deep eyes, o'erbriiimimied with passion's sacred wine, Ifeart-perfLumned tears-yearning towards me, shine Like stars made lovelier by faint mists at night; lier chleeks, sweet lilies change to roses bright, 1lown in love's realm, fed by his breath divine; Anid even those virginal tremors seem the sign Of perfect joy thr-oulgh love's unchal lenged ri,lght: 0 happy breast, that heavest soft and fair Thloughi silvery clouds of luminous silk and lace! O. gracious hahnds, 0 flow-er-enwoven head, O'er w-hicil hope's charm its delicate warmth has shed! Wvhile smiles and blushes wreathe her dimpling face, Set in the splendor of dark Orient hair! brow or breast That irksome incubus, be sure some day The load that blights shall droop and fall away, And thou, because of torture borne so well, Shall pass from out thy long, malign unrest And walk thy future paths invincible! XXIX. TWO PICTURES. SHE stood beneath the vine-leaves flushlied and fair; The dimpling smiles around her tender mouth, Seemed born of mellow sunshine of the South; A light breeze trembled in her unbound hair; No young Greek goddess, in the violet air Of vales immortal, shone with purer grace; A delicate glory touched her form and face, Whence the sweet soul looked on us, nobly bare,As Heaven itself, unclouded: - thus she stood, But when I saw her next (0 God! the woe!) Love, mirth, and life had fled forever more; Prostrate she lay, about her a dark wood. And many a helpless mourner, wailing low; The cruel waves which drowned her lapped the shore. XXX. THIIE MIGIIT IIAVE BEEN. ONcE in the twilight hour there stole on Ine A strange, sweet spirit! In her tender eyes XXVIII. 'TIIE OLD MAN OF THE SEA." Gl',IEvouS. ill sooth, was luckless Sind bad's plight, Saddled with that foul monster of the sea,, But who of somesoul-harrowingweight is free? And though we veil our woe from public sight, Full many a weary day and dismal night, It chIafes our spirits sorely! Yet, for thee, AWhate'er, 0 friend, thy special grief may be, Range thou against it all thy manhood's might. SONNETS. 265 XXVII. 2(36 LATEB POEMS. Shone a far beauty, like the morning skies, And tranlufil was she as a summer sea; An air of large, divine benignity Breathed, like a living garb of spiritual dves About her-with the gentle fall and rise Of her heart pulses tuned to mystery - But, as I gazed, a sadness deep as death Crept o'er the beauty of her brow serene And a faint tremior stirred her shadowy lips; "Thou lknlo'- st me not, "she sighed, withl mournful breatlh: "How cau'st thotu kilo. -,ne? Lo, through Fate's eclipse, Thou seest, too late, too late, thy MIIGIIT IItA-E BEEN-!" XXXI. XNIGIIT-WIXUS I-X W INTEIn. WINDS! (I (- they wiinds?- or myriad ghosts. that shriek? Ghosts of poor mariners, drowned in Nortlhern seas, Beside the surif-tormented Hebrides, Whose voices now of tide-born terror speak In tones to blanch the boldest listener's cheek? Hark! lhow tlley thunder down the far-off leas, Sweep the scourged hills, and smite the woodland trees, To die where tonwers yon glittering motun tain-peak! A moment's stillness! Then with lus tier might Of wing and voice, these marvellous wraitlhs of air Fill with dread sound the ominous heights of night. Athwart their storinful breath the star throngs fade: How dimmed is Cassiopoeia's radiant chair, While Perseus droops, touched by tra,ns figuring shade! XXXII. TO TIlE QUERULOUS POETS. TkioRow by the tr appin gs of y our tinsel rhyme! Htush the c rude voice, whose never ending wail Blight s the s we et song of thrush, or niBghtingal e, - Set to the treble of our quer ulous tim e; Is earth grown dim? IIatll heaven her grace sublime, Her pomp of.clouids, and winds, and sunset sliowers MNerge(d in the twilight of funereal hours, And Time's deatlh-signal struck its iron chime? O! false, frail dreamer! not one tiniest note From yonder green-ilrt copse, but whis pers "' shalne! " - Love, beauty, rapture. swell the war bler's tlhroat,The self-same joy, the passion blithe and young, Thrilled by the force of whose imminacu late flamiie, The first glad stars, the stars of morn ing, sung! XXXIII. IN THE I'()R(',I. IN this old porch, fast mouldering to de cay, But wreathed in vines and girt by sihad owy trees, All day I hear the dreamful Jium of bees, Soft-rustling foliage, and the fragrant sway Of breezes borne from some far ocean bay; And oft with half-closed eyelids, stretched at easeThe pines above me voiced like distant seas - I seem to mark a coy young Dryad stray Out from the tangled greenery over head, 266 LA TLP, POEMS. I Winds! are they winds?- or niyriad ghosts, that shriek?... Hark! how they thunder down the far-off leas." of earthi, ToM - SO~~t~. Like some storitii-sliattei-ed tree, its witi I'~~~(~C ill~~~~ile M\ay lift de(fianit, daiin-tless in its dlearthi, Iii i u ldi sgrow vage asthat A dreary wat(.hIer- oni a blIasted hieightl! Ii~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~-e lieartltt ia~l(s - igiu ~ e~h se liiallo as a yii its ri-tt faiis I h ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Tail flilotliaitsi o' erfcsog- Iif b(]))et iIiktose poisoes wi-tli /tt'tti'f Ti orbs in secret! gnaws'f i stIlie Da liftlyslicia s t(iiity XXXV.~ ~~~~~~Tiio And Nilioi te wonsits iit, alb it to II~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(i' t w ftIy t'va ~i~sttrsiis Si~5ttsc ta'lbvc ilstt I )t'itiva~'tieatiti rstless ound ths (Plekoinc olur cal,, frieidv~l soi-ern tbeli,,lt IN iiiuCefttl liotii~, iwliei thioughts of ee ih [-oll t ip k tJ the storiiless strandii lngIet(sbl,thttil toe ANl(l tl-t e-liel i8iov -\-g sta I, itiliail. far —off, a i-a~lianit shiaile incelineicVI Fioiii lcento ear~tih -wh-lose. face of TYs~Lo I~IT iiiarve(,lolos shline(, (lfR'f vilel iii mstic b~eautty), softly PT 1r' a'tto,' iyhr \V-itli (telicat(, Itstr-es and( elusive Ie er ssalwa ~ arlu ( tlcllfri-oc -oiiie v-iewNles,s Edlen - biy- Thtfosoer ellls:if,t'i ,~i iilas the wNaveriugii huies that star-t ealfil eeiiastrit ftit. seituc tlay. sliall pass the plian-tomiiili Y',t ftl,t ))i ~ tti ti t tsic tecxt ml'y i~t k: cliange-ful wvorld! pigwu~ Y(t,t whet(,i grt(,at soirt~~tws oii otilr li-ves, ar-e'dti lefal iieit 1,at V Ilitrledl, sa At-id( fa,te oii uis Tias wrei-(aketi ]isi tict(i —~ ev tli~e, lehspse illo~t, i i I I III~fo1 (,~1 11C1101\ Ill )l-I)l)eo TLl'll elotid oil ebU~~~~l ~1't tlhoi, \\ hos(t stI ls 1v ill(d ouir (1rellelle(J Und hotved, S till fi~oii the dliof thlyreelt i'oi~~e of rill~~~, LLt gol~l(ii,t(lO ls~~d iit thiosights ~ onler qtiver~ piiie-trees, lvss 131leiidl tli(,i- sti-,iie iiioaiiiigin-ith li te h~ illdo ise wf t~,Woe ln of I-ills elar-ioii shriills, Pierinciii" th e hi-iei o'er. it clinig tindI Uprioot. aii( iiially i-avage-Nwililst ye ~ hl )~ hn oirv i 1 Y~our ftii,,ii N-iessite iniiie ears in nii))e~ firesidle chieer., est dlayvtl,dti sp,,ir-. ii. cio~~~~~(l ~~TO (L~(ET.IO\~l ~~otr. flu lit~~ ~ 11111' 1 ITC Ontl tto mliiiieiese to 1 (re I i)i-(,ot- Ivii,,tt - die~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i( I 1 o\\il eilltin, V ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~hA'iat,tiid~es NN'liwt~ gloi-ions, ,stl-(ingtl11 I)elolg For, hn~eil nd w~ed ~)ythis higlitTo thi( Iitrief (.,iipa~ss of that sland~ei-e(I soiig Safe s on OIACealutsprintill's cani-W e ter,i-ii the Sonnei(t;. Thinie liltali h~ecii I mock yeni ire, nor hoed yonr wild de- its Ii(il~ly fruiitfidl, fahy- sliolier Of p)oesy hiaIti fooileI tl ei) ol011ii- at 9 i~~~~~~~n(I t~lilii( the dloliiiai,,lit ila,,gie whicid P~kSO\~4L sO~~VTTS. Life to its tllriillillg lll11sic. Ilotir by lIoiir, I. M~~~~~~~\y soid fj~iitm this fniall fonutah iii I ~l~tiy earl~~~ nhiest,most pthetic iTle sntiiluei(~ of, th liv pssoili~te gei-ius Is soue ouT oet, onn~l hose lurel- I)othi dI1ililk eilt till fa iiyInelts ill ~liose vening,touche hy precielit N'ot (lr-ealllle,ss, l)nit fiislie(I ttrongli with TO AV~n. ()(lE1O.hlsdei si~litt ias Isso rie onl( pot rti,, \ilo(, airl The lonig gr-ay locks are sti-(~ainiiiii, softly (hrni t h iiir ftyjefc shades of nighit,y ha ej Growis tra~nqillizedl. hi calitii ethereal Sm ev~i lal fyuhsvlp Iliglt: toidy I I clotict oil cloti(l; ol PEP,SO-V-4L 50-V-VFT,5. 1. PERSONTAL SON-NETS. On lightning thoughts thy choral thun deis burst Of rapturous song! Apollo's self, new born, Alight thus have sung fromi his Olympian sphe re; All hearts are thrilled; all nations hushed to hear! III. TO ALGER-XOXN- CHARLES SWIA'BnURXE. NOT since proud Marlowe poured his potent song Through fadeless mieadows to a marvel. lous main, Ilas England hearkened to so sweet a strain - So sweet as thine, and ali! so subtly strong! AWhethler sad love it mourns, or wreaks oil N\roiig The rhythlic rage of measureless dis dain, Dallies with joy, or swells in fiery pain, What ravished souls the entrancing notes prolong! At thy clarnied breath pale histories blush once more: See! Rosainond's smile! drink love from Mary's eyes; Quail at the foul Medici's midnight fiown. Or hlark to black Bartholomew's an guishled cries! Blent with far horns of Calydon widely bl ow n O'er the grim death-growl of the ensan guined boar! TO EDGAR FAWCETT. ARoT thou sonice reckless poet, fiercely free, Singing vague songs an errant brain inspires? Mbad with the ravening fo rce of inward fires, Whose floods o'erw helm him like a masterless sea? No! art and nat ure wi sely blend in thee! Thy soul has learned from lays of loftiest lyres WVhat laws should bind weird fancy's wild desires, Rounded to rhythmic immortality! Thus golden thoughts in golden har monies meet: Thy fairy conceptions reel not with false glow, Through frenzied realhns by metrical motley swayed; But passion-curbed, with voices strong and sweet, Born of regret or rapture, love or woe, Pass from rich sunshine to dew-haunted shade! But crowned by hope, winged with august desire, Thy muse soars loftiest, when her breath is drawn In stainless liberty's ethereal dawn, And " songs of sunrise " her warm lips suspire: High in auroral radiance, high and higher, She buoys thee up, till, earth's gross vapors gone, Thy proud, flame-girdled spirit gazes on The unveiled fount of freedom's crystal fire. When thou hast drained deep draughts divinely nurst 'Mid lucid lustres, and hale haunts of morn, CARLYLE. 0 GRANITE nature; like a mountain height Which pierces heaven! yet with found ations deep, Rooted where earth's majestic forces s leep, In quiet breathing on the breast of night: 269 IV. V. LA'7'L]_ I'()'MS. IProud thoughts were his that scaled the infinite Of loftiest grasp, and callll Elysian T sw eep; Fierce thoughts were his that burnt the donjon keep Of ancient wrong, to flood its crypts with light: Yet o'er his genius, firmi as Ailsa's rock, Large, Atlantean, with grimI grandeur cldow-ered, - Love blooiledi, and buds of tender beauty flowered: - Yet down-n his rugged massiveness of will Unsearredl by alien passion's fiery shock, Mlercy flow-ed melting like an Alpine rill! Hath made thy winged feet beautiful along The lhaloed lheights of thinie eternal soiig: So near our Ihumnan love, thoughl born afar, Its mellow concorid on the listener' s iheart Melts with the softness of a falling star! TO M. 1. 1'. YOUR graciou s words steal o'el like tlhe breeze That blows from far-off soutlhlan(l isles benign, - All steeped in perfume, sweet as fairy wine, Yet touched wnzith salt keen breathings of the seas! iWhat smiling thoughts of tender min istries Passionlless service, andi strong fa.ith divine, Rest with this pictured sister's fa(ce of tlline, And sister's love: - (blent fire and balhins of ease!) O love! a two-faced shield of light tlhou art, Whose golden-sid(led glamiour long liathli shone, In wedded bliss and affluence on mv life; A sister's love- the fair shield's silvery zone, Turns on me now! - thy deathless fervor, wi f e, Blends witlh the sweetness of this new found heart! TO JEAN IN-\GELOW. BnAP-\E lyrist! like the sky-lark, heaveni possessed, Thy glan-ice is sunw-arid; and thy soul grown w-ise, Fr-on-ts the full splendor of Apollo's eyes, AWhiile following still thy muse's high behest: Strlength, sweetness, subtlety, are all expressed In thy clear lays, -- whether they dare the skies, O'ertopping radiant dcawns, or rill-like rise, To thread with rhythmic pulse eartlh's pastoral breast! Proud inspiration, hand in hand with act i I i i 2 4-f) vii. VI. MACQNALI)'S liAID. 271 .MACPCDO-ALD'S -AID. - A.D. 1780. tS NA -RRATED 3ANY YEARS AFTEI BY A VETERAN OF " MIARION'S BRIGADE." [The hero of the following ballad, though a Scotchman by birth, was a determined, entlinsiastic \Vhig. MAarion's men, aiioig whomj lie served during the whole of the war for Independecee, regardedl himi with anl admiration borderilng somietimes upon awe. His gigantic size alnd strength, aiid a species of " Berserker rage " wlieli came over him in battle, were the meanis by w-hiclh hle performed maniy a feat of'1 derring-do," characteristic rather of the Middle Ages tliani the timies of practical " Farnier George." Of all his desperate escapades, the raid throughi (4er(rgetowiri So uth Carolina, with a force of only four troopers (Georgetown beiilg a fortified l),ost, dlefendedl b)- a garrison of three hundred Eliglishl regulars), proved, naturally enouglh, the iliOSt 1otoriols. ALtlhorities differ as to the origin and details of this remarkable affair. Some iftorin ls that Sergeaiit Macdonlald had been commanded by Marion to take a sm-all party of lhis m5en and5 i m erely\ recoinnoitre the elnemy's liies, alid that lie chose to exceed his orders; \while others affirml tlhat MIacdonlald himself, acting iindepeidenitly, as lie oftein (lid, proposed the ilia(l sclheme of' beardiiig the British lionl in lhis deii,'' as a charming relief to the esnnui of camip life. The latter authorities have furnished the groundwork of our ballad. " Nothinlg," observes Ilorry, iii his Life of (General MAlarion, " ever so niortitied the British as did this iiiad frolic.'That half a dozen d- d -olIung rebels,' they exclaimed,' should tlhus dashl in among us, in open daylight, and fall to cutting and slaslhing the.ii g's troop)s at this rate! And after all, to gallop away without the least liariiil iii hlair al(i hide!'Tis high time to turn our bayonets into pitchforks, and go to foddering the cows.' "] I BE_IEMBiEn it well;'twas a inorn dull and gray, Anid the legion lay idle and listless that dlay, A thin drizzle of rain piercing chlill to the soul, Anid w-ithl not a spare bumper to brighten the bowl, When Macdonald arose, and unslheathing his blade, Cried.' lWho'll back nme, brave comrades? I'mI hot for a raid. Let the carbines be loaded, the war harness ring, Then swift death to the Redcoats, and down with the King! We leaped tip at his summons, all eager and brighlt, To our finger-tips tlhrilling to join himn in fight; Yet hle chose from our numibers foti mnen and no more. " Stal-art brothers," quothl he, "you'll be strong as fourscore, If yout follow me fast wheresoever I lead, With keen sword and true pistol, stanch heart and bold steed. Let the weapons be loaded, the bridle-bits ring, Then swift death to the Redcoats, and down with the King!" In a -rice we were mounted; Macdonald's tall form Seated firm in the saddle, his face like a storm When the clouds on Ben Lomond hang heavy and stark, And the red veins of lightning pulse hot through the dark; Hlis left hand on his sword-belt, his right lifted free, With a prick from thle spurred heel, a touch from the knee, His lithe Arab * was off like an eagle on wing - Ha! death, death to the Redcoats, and down with the King! * Macdonald owneda magnificent horse, named Selim, of pure Arabian blood, which he obtained possession of through a cunning trick played at the expense of a certain wealthy C(arolina Tory. -il]A(,'DONALD'S RAID. 271 LATEDR POEMS. 'Twas three leagues to the town. where, in insolent pride, Of their disciplined nuinbers, their works strong and wide, The big Britons, oblivious of warfare and armns, A soft dolce wri-e wrapped in, not dreaming of harms, When fierce yells, as if borne on somre fiend-ridden rout, With strange cheer after cheer, are heard echoing without, Over whichl, like the blast of ten trulmpeters, rinilg, "Death, death to the RIedcoats, and down with the King!" Such a tuinmult we raised with steel, hoof-stroke, and shlou4, That the foemen miade straight for their inmost redoubt, And therein, with pale lips and cowed spirits, quoth they, "Lord, the whole rebel army assaults us to-day. Are the works, think you, strong? (God( of heaven, what a din. 'Tis the front wall besieged - have the rebels rushed in? It niust be; for, hark! hark to that jubilant ring Of'death to the RIedcoats, and down with the King! " Meanwhile, through the town like a whirlwind we sped, And ere long be assured that our broadsw-ords were red; And the ground here and there by an ominous stain Showed how the stark soldier beside it was slain: A fat sergeant-major, who yawed like a goose, With his waddling bow-legs, and his trappings all loose, By one backhanded blow the Macdonald cuts down, To the shoulder-blade cleaving him sliheer through the crown, And the last words that greet his dim consciousness ring With "Death, death to the Redcoats, and down with the King!" Having cleared all the streets, not an enemy left Whose heart was unpierced, or whose headpiece uncleft, What should we do next, but - as careless and calm As if we were scenting a summer mnorn's balm 'Mid a land of pure peace- just serenely drop down On the few constant friends who still stopped in the town. What a welcome they gave us! One dear little thing, As I kissed her swveet lips, did I dream of the King? Of the King or his minions? No; war and its scars Seemed as distant just then as the fierce front of Mars From a love-girdled earth; but, alack! on our bliss, On the close clasp of arms and kiss showering on kiss, Broke the rude bruit of battle, the rush thick and fast Of the Britons made'ware of our rash ruse at last; So we haste to our coursers, yet flying, we fling The old watch-words abroad, "Down with Rledcoats and King!" .) 7 — ) MiAAC0)ONALTD'bS RAIPD. As we scampered peil-mell o'er the hard-beaten track We had traversed that miorn,we glanced momlently back, And beheld their long earth-works all comnpassed in flamne: With a vile plunge and hiss the huge inusket-balls camle, And the soil was ploughed up, and the space'twixt the trees Seemed to hum with the war-song of Brobdingnag bees; Yet above them, beyond them, victoriously ring The shouts, "Death to the Redcoats, and down with the King! Ah! that was a feat, lads, to boast of! What men Like you weaklings to-day had dnrst cope with us then? Though I say it who should not, I am ready to vow I'd o'ermatch a half score of your fops even now - "I remember it well;'twas a morn cold and gray,... A thin drizzle of rain piercing chill to the soul." The poor puny prigs, mincing up, mincing down, Through the whole wasted day the thronged streets of the town: Why, their dainty white necks'twere but pastime to wringAy! my muscles are firm still; I fought'gainst the King! Dare you doubt it? well, give me the weightiest of all The sheathed sabres that hang there, uplooped on the wall; Hiurl thie scabbard aside; yield the blade to my clasp; Do you see, with one hand how I poise it and grasp The rough iron-bound hilt? With this long hissing sweep I have smitten full many a foeman with sleep - That forlorn, final sleep! God! what memories cling To those gallant old times when we fought'gainst the King. 273 LA TER POEMS. THE BATTLE OF KI.NG'S MOUNI7'IN. Supposed to have been narrated by an aged volunteer, whlo had taken part in the figlht, to certain of his friends and neiglhbors, upon the fiftieth anniversary of the conflict, viz. Oct. 7. 1s30. [Written for the Ceniteinnial Celebratioli of thie battle onl Oct. 7, 1880.] OFTTIMES an old mian's yesterdays o'er his frail vision pass, DiBi as the twilight tints tlhat touch a dusk-elnshrouded glass; But, ahl! youth's time and inanliood's prime butlt grow more brave, more bright, As still the leingtheninig shadows steal toward the rayless night. So deem it not a marvel, friends, if, gathering fair and fast, I now behold the gallant forms that graced our glorious past, And down the winds of melneory hear those battle bugles blow, Of strifeful breath, or wails of death, just fifty years ago. Yes. fifty vears this self-same morn, and yet to nie it seems As if timers interval wvere spanned by a vague bridge of dreamls, WAhose cloud-like arches form and fade, then form and fa(le again, Until a beardless youth once more,'mid stern, thick-bearded men, I ride on Phoderic's bounding back, all thrilled at heart to feel 3Iy trusty "smiooth-bore's" deadly round. and touch of stainless steelAnd quivering with heroic rage -that rush of patriiot ire AWhich makes our lives from head to heel, one seething flood of fire. There are some w rongs so blackly base, the tiger strain that runs, And sometimes maddens thro' the veins, of Adamn's fallen sons, MIust mount and mount to furious height, which only blood can quell, Who smite with hellish hate must look for hate as hot from hell! And hide it as wve mlay witli words, its awful need confessed, War is a death's-head thinly veiled, even warfare at its best; But?e2 -heaven help us! - strove wvith those by lust and greed accurst, And learned what untold horrors wait on warfare at its worst. You well may deem my soul in youth dwelt not on thloughts like these; Tihed to strong Rhoderic's tramp my pulse grew tuneful as the breeze, The hale October breeze, whose voice, borne from far ocean's marge, Pealed with the trumnpet's resonance, which sounds " To lho se, anid charge!" A mist from recent rains was spread about the glimmering hills; Far off, far off, we heard the lapse of streams and swolleni rills, While mingling with them, or beyond, from depths of changeful sky, Rose savage, sullen, dissonant, the eagle's famished cry. We marched in four firm columinns, nine hundred men and more, .len of the mountain fortresses, men of the sea-girt shore; 2-i 4 THE BATTLE OF KIRVIG'S $ MOUNTAI1V. PRotughl as their centuried oaks were these, those fierce as ocean's shlocks, When miiad Septeiiiber breaks her heart across the Hatteras rocks. WVe marchlled in four firn colunms, till now the evening light Glinted thllroughl rifting cloud and fog athwart the embattled height, AWhereon, deep-lined, in dense array of scarlet, buff or dun, The haughtiest Britishl "regulars" outflashled the doubtful sun. HIorsemen and footmen centred there, unflinching rank on rank, And the base Tories circled near, to guard each threatened flank; But, pale, deteirmined, sternly calm, our mien, dismiounting, stood, And at their leader's cautious sign, crouched in the sheltering wood. Whlat scenes come back of ruin and wrack, before those ranks abhorred! The cottage floor all fouled with gore, the axe, the brand, the cord; A hundred craven deeds revived, of insult, injury, shameDeeds earth nor wave nor fire could hide, and crinies without a name. Such thoughts but hardened soul and halied. Ia! " dour as death " were we, Waiting to catch the voice which set our iuleashled passion free. At last it came deep, ominous, when all the mountain ways Burst from awed silence into sound, and every bush ablaze. Sent forth long jets of wavering blue, wlierefromn. with fatal dart, The red-hot Deckhlard bullets flew, each hungering for a heart; Andl swift as if our fingers held strange magic at their tips, Oui glins. reloaded, spake again fromn their deathl-dealing lips, Agrain. again, and yet again, till in a moment's huslh, WAe hlecrd the order, " Bay'iiets clharge! " when, with o'ermnastering rush, Their regulars" against us stormned, so strong, so swift of pace, They hurled us backward bodily for full three furlongs' space. But, bless you, lads, we scattered, dodged, and when the charge was o'er, Felt fiercer, pluckier, madder far, than e'er we had felt before; From guardian tree to tree we crept, while upward, with proud tramp, The Britishl lines had slowly wheeled to gain their'leaguered camp. Too late; for ere they topped the height, Hambright and Williams strode WAith all their armed foresters, across the foeman's road, What time from right to left there rang the Indian war-whoop wild, Where Sevier's tall WAaturga boys through the dim dells defiled. "Now, by God's grace,"' cried Cleaveland (my noble colonel he), Resting (to pick a Tory off) quite coolly on his knee"Now, by God's grace, we have them! the snare is subtly set; The game is bagged; we hold them safe as pheasants in a net." 2 i-'0 LA4_'i;'R'P OE JIS. Ynd thlis it proved; for galled and pressed more closely hour by hour, Their army slirank ali(l withered fast, like a stormn-smitteli flower; Bllank-eyed, wan-brow-e(l. thleir bravest lay along the ensanguilied lan(l, AWhile of the living, few hiad'scaped the bite of ball or branld. Yet sturdier knave than Ferguson ne'er ruled a desperate fray: B y heaven! you should have seen him ride, rally, and rave that (1ay, ilis fleet horse scoured the stormy ground from rock-bound wall to wall, And o'er the rout shrilled wildly out his silvery signal call. That mian nmust die before they fly, or yield to us the field." lThus spake I to three comrades true beneath our oak-tree shieldl; And when in furious haste again the scarlet soldiers canle Beside our fastness like a fiend, hurtling through dust and flame, Their sharp demnurrers on the wind our steadfast rifles huirled, And one bold life was stricken then from out the livinig -orld. But. almost sped, he reared his head, grasping his silver call, And one long blast, the faintest, last, wailed round the mountain wall. Ah, then the white flags fluttered high; then shrieks and curses poured From the hot throats of Tory hounds beneath the avenger's swordTlhose lawless brutes who long had lost all claims of (Chrlistian mnen, WAhereof by suniset we had hanged the worst and vilest ten. WAe slept upon the field that nighlt,'mnidmnost our captured store, That seemied in gloating, eyes to spread and heighlten imore and mnore. Truly the viaids ravished us; our clamorous stomachs tiurned Eager tovward the provender for whllich they sorely yearned. Apicius! whlat a feast was there blended of strong and sweet, Cured venison hams, Falstaffian pies, and fat pigs' pickled feet: A While here and there, with cunning leer, and sly Silenus wink, A stoutish demijolhn peered out, and seemed to gurgle, "Drink!" B1e sure wve revelled merrily, till eyes and faces shlone; Our lowliest felt more lifted up than any king on throne; Our singers trolled; our jesters' tongues were neither stiff nor dumb; And, by Lord Bacchus! how we quaffed that old Jamnaica rumn! Perchance (oh, still, through good and ill, his honest name I bless!)Perchance my brother marked in me some symptoms of excess; For gently on my head he laid his stalwart hand and true, And gently led me forthl below the eternal tent of blue; He led me to a dewy nook. a soft, sweet, tranquil place, And there I saw. upturned and pale, how many a pulseless face! 27(i ~'PT,- )1;TT III ~T )l. t(I'AtT tTT )Il~ til [iltl I"l'l. TIL' BATILE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN. 277 Our comirades dead- they scarce seemled fled, despite thleir ghastly scars, But -ra)ppeld ill deepl, pure folds of sleep beneathl the undying stars. MSy l)1ood( was calledtl; all heing grew exalted as the night, \lience solemni tlhoughlts sailed weirdly down, like heavenly swans of whlite, \With heral( strailis ineffable, whose billowy organ-ioll - Tlhrilled to the loftiest miountain peaks and summiits of my soul. Then voices rose (or seemedl to rise) close to the raptured ear, Y1et frauglht withl music miarv-ellous of somle transcendeit sphere, Whliile facy vwhispered: These are tones of heroes, saved aidl shriven, Wlho long hlave sw-ept the hlarps of God by storlinless seas in lhecaven I Ileroes whel foughlt for right anld lawi, but, putged froim sclfisl dross, Al)o-e -whose conqtuering banners waved a shadowy Chlristian cross: Whliose mightiest d(eeld no ruthless greed had snirclied with sad nmistrust, And -lwhose matjestic lhonlors scorn all taint of earthly (lust. Dooul)t. d(loul)t -who may! hut, as I live, ou the caln mountain hleight Those voices soaredl, adl sank, acnd soared up to the mystic night. - dreami! perhaps; Lut, ah! such dreams in ard(lent years of youth T'iraiscecnd, as heaven transcends the earth, your sor(lid (laylighlt truth. The voices soared, and sank, aind soared, till, past the cloud(-built bars, Thley fainted onl the ut]lost strand and( silvery surge of stars. rllThen somi(thi! spoke: Your friendls who strove the battle tide to stenm, h-lio died in strivilng, have passed up beyond( the stars with them. W-hlat, lads! you think the old man crazed to talk in this high strain, Or dleemi the putnchl of years gone by still bauzzes in his brain? Dow-n w-ithl such carnal fantasy! nor let your folly send Its bluhnted shafts to smite the truth you may not comprehend. Woulld ye be worthy of your sires who on King's MIountain side WAelcomed dark death for freeldom's sake as bridegrooms clasp a bride? Then lmust your faith be winged above the -worl(l, thle worm, the clod, To own the veiled infinitudes and plunbless depths of Go(ld! The roughest rider of my day shrank from the atheist's sneer, As if Iscariot's self were crouched and whlispering at his ear; The stormiiest souls that ever led our miountain forays wild Wouild ofttimes show the simple trust, the credence, of a child. True faith goes hand in hand withl power - faith in a hlolier chlarm Than fires the subtlest mortal brain, the iiigltiest mortal arm; Ain-d though'tis right in stress of fighlt " to keep one's po(wder (Iry," What strength to feel, beyond our steel, burns the great Captail's eye! I, -I! 7L ],' JJJ 7']IE J4 (;~U O,'' IIL ('A ('(,'1)10. The iii'i~leiits (f tltis 11'l~ ire lite'rilliv true. Outr reutelrs \\-ill tiiul tfli(,ii (,ieiiiii,st,,uitial1ly leti(ii it C(\ ~' l~ie o ~taioi:' (.'itt.'iiiSiii (1'1~1('('I)US It'll'tt L lit'ille) AN,s.iio.iti I,Itri(it Iiiriilg tile t,ev.lntit~ioary Ai-ar, Itiut is likl~e-y to be l~iio~~-ii to (tie future, r,,tieier is5 tie (ilts (cC tltit C'tjIs 11 tili antive ioieiiiber of 11 1',artis,,tii liaiiil. lie i'e1lel t lie b"\\ eouiitry of Soutli CI'i~ii'iil Ciilj'tt' 1illtilit }i~tis lII, (. ie rol CeCil(of ittlie I)rokl~ei Eiuglisli spokiei ly (lie slaves of tlttl s~eetoi,,i in (lie (t(((c ()((ti(ii, (t(ies: "~ L 1ats if voni -NNalits toileer. I', I tell voti lbiotit iiil'II ICi. Doli (le,li~t tauit oh) dat bad thue is fit to fulli miii lii(i; V\ loit 011 ~ithtiistone iluei oni ])laelk, Mid jist at stale 0 witi', V\- wNlti(n (leiti eut,ssedl Tor-y come ftir iN-uek l~ eir- lia,t(~II iT t,( 111 -Nas Tojii ani(T toe was h~orni, I tinTl-.'])oit -vTI' s-i -ilT I'( ni - Vut(I we Mas i~ovs togteddler l13oss! iil()i er spoi't, anil ili - Ol(- iiiis-sis "ii) tuie to'-\ass Toiii wid,( ler las' fatil iii I~retl V'ti(l so I11)01111' - ili coniscienice bLion', furi s~ick to hliiii t~ill (li't. .. Vt las7 ole -Alaussa, heC teelk sickt wid clill,ti( fclier ii,i Vuil( (-le good J)oliter- slialke Ce liead. atid sayi Tie, sill' fuii (lii', VAid so truie iitiff dTe sicitness liiii' and~ fr-(,('ze ouit ill lii' l]if(" Vudl~ — 00oi ole — \aiissa sleep ini peace lotig sidi' e faeu iI' "Denl (,l)l)ei-v thiig (Te lani' couliT shiowN, (ie~ crap, (I(, hos,. (I(,, ('1)NN-s. AVi(I all (leii iilger- in (le fie," tl,ill 1(11deni iii (Te liouii'.,, D(f )iiyIoiigo to iiy — \ass Toiii ftir true. aiiTI so da,t I~eri' i- a C, Ilie pick )iic out froiti all (le folks to iteek tnt'()l- i'li'i "I dlone( iiy ])es' lint uiiigai-s, s,ii' - (i(ey s((i-tis) a la,zN-~iik O)iie huil iai AN-(1 ill (lo 1(10' wu lt aiitfive aiti( twN(iolt y i~i- t I jeeri-,l (Teii anil( I o'olloliedl deiui. anil~ ('isse~d (l(,iui too - I)ut li De, J)ehl)l)e self could inel.)~iel iteei) dlent rascal tip to tait " Iutit still wNe (Tone as good as itiose, w\Nid cottoi. i-ic(' and( (,or-n, Till ii-i (le vear dlat t~ifi i'fll a (niyi oldest (iilule) NNas bl-ioni De Toryv wiar, (Te iloody w\Nar, i~ouit wh-Iicii -\otti-v(, li (ri(,iii t(ill, ('onto(, down-i oni all (Te counitryvou as lil(tick aiui(l hot 1s(5 hell! 6-lass Tonii lie jine dTe Wliig. yNu k w inioreIflo liiiii, Ali(I Gor' a iniiglitty lhow lie, slasit dceii']'ori\, luilli),ri'lliiiihuib, AVlien fuist I hoeer the wiar —ci'y sliout atilIl seei (I(, tioni 01) liioo~lTI lone', fuir Iide this wnoolly Tieail like (-ooitlitli ili (le, iitid! I'lie niegi',- is a linLinioi(nereoiuri M'-e 11a11) 0 reilt ibeari of a iie,,,,ir ftittiei' 1N-lose son beiti i1),,'iii( iil,,,it lirtrli, ('iioll,, ( tiiilte ~oi uise eli)l ~ lristeticit,'' Viufu i' 7'(Ill (-\-otliiiir t' (ti ll). wIe Ileive Iboriroa(ii 0i'iiri'ei'tt',, alil.tu bestowved it upo)0( Cudijits supiposititious' soil ani eir.?' Tllis is (tie siigle touchl of ftiice intt iii ti t-ilol btitalll. .I- I (i l-,o.) A I)lAl,l,"('T THE HANGING OF BLACK CUDJO. "But La-wd! I soon git n'used to blood, de broadswed and de strife, And niebber care a pig tail eend fur'tudder folks's life; Only, I heerd my MIaussa yell thro' all dein battle-call, And sneaked dis big fat karkiss up betwixt him and de ball! "Well, sir! one day M1ass Tom come home,'e close and hoss blood red, And say sense all dem Tory kill, he gwine dat once to bed; 'I needs a long fine snooze,' sez he,' so don't you wake me soon, ' But Ctudjo! let me snore oncalled till late to-morrow noon!'; ' Somuehow-, my mine misgib me demn; so by de kitchin light, I sot and smoked, with open ears, a listenen' true de nite: And when de fus cock crow, I heer a fur soun, down de road, And knowed'un fur de hosses' trot, and de clash ob spur and sword: "Quick I run outside in de yad, and quick outside de gate -, And there I see de Tory comne as fas' and shio' as fate; I run back to mIy lMaussa room, and den wid pull and push 1 shlub'um by de side way out, and hide'uin in de bush! "IHe only hab hlie nite shut on, and how he rabe and cuss! ' But Mlaussa! hushll,' sez I,'before you meck dis matter wuss;' I tun to fin' some hidin' too, but de moon shine bright as sun, And de d-(d Tory ride so swif', dey ketch me on de run. "Den, dey all screech togedder, loud,'Boy, is your Boss widin? ' Say where lie hide, or by de Lawd! your life not wut a pin!' I trembled at dese horrid tret, but sweer my Boss was fled, Yet when, or where, poor Cudjo knowed no better dan de dead. "One Tory debbie teck my head, another teck my foot To drag me like a Chrismass hog to de ole oak tree root; Dey fling a tick rope roun' my nleck, dey drawed me quick and high, I seed a toisai' million star a-flashin' from de sky. "And den I chioke, and all de blood keep rushin' to my head I tried to yell, but only groaned, and guggled low enstead; Till ebbery ting growed black as nite, and my last taut was, sho, Dis nigger is a gone coon now, he'll see de wuld no imo'! "But, Boss! I was a hale man den, and tough as tough could be; Dey loose de rope and let me down quite safely from de tree; But when I seed and heered agen, come de same furious cry, 'Say where your Maussa hide, you dog, quick, quick, or else you die!' "I gib demn de same answer still, and so, dey hang me higher; I feel de same hot chokin' sob; see de same starry fire; Dey heng me twice, tree time dey lheng; but de good Lawd was dere, And Jesus self, he bring me safe from all de pain and fear. 279 280~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LAE PES "Mose dead dey lef' me, stiff and cole, stretched on de swashy groun' While all de house, big house and small, was blazin', fallin' roun'. When pore Mass Tom from out de briar creep in he half-torn shut, To bless and ring me by bote han' dere in de damp and dut! "And when de war was ober, Boss, Mass Tom, he come to me, And say, I sabe he life dat time, and so he meek me free; ' I'll gib you house and lan' (sez he,)'and wid demn plough and miule,' I tenk him kind,'but Boss,' (says I,)'wha' meck you tink me fool?' "' If you, Mass Tom, was like," (sez I,) some buckra dat I know, Cudjo bin run and hug de swamp - Lawd bless you! - long ago, But I got all ting dat I want, wid not one tax to pay; Now go long, Maussa! why you wish for dribe ole Cuj away? ' I nebber see free nigger yet, but what he lie and steal, Lie to'e boss,'e wife,'e chile, in de cabin, and de fiel' - And as for tieffin', deiu free cuss is all like' lightfoot Jack,' Who carry de lass blanket off from he sick mudder back! "' I stays wid you, (sez I again,) I meek de nigger wuck, I wuck myself, and may be, Boss, we'll bring back de ole luck; But don't you pizen me no more wid talk ob "freedom sweet," But sabe dat gab to stuff de years of de next fool you meet!' " CHARLESTON RE TAKIEN. DEC. 14, 1782. As some half-vanquished lion, Who long hath kept at bay A band of sturdy foresters Barring his blood-stained way - Sore-smitten, weak and wounded - Glares forth on either hand; Then, cowed with fear, his cavernous lair Seeks in the mountain land: So when their stern Cornwallis, On Yorktown heights resigned, His sword to our great leader, Of the stalwart arm and mind — So when both fleet and army At one grand stroke went down And Freedom's heart beat high once more In hamlet, camp and town; - " Our cause is lost! " they oruttered, Pale browed, with trembling lips; " Our strength is sapped, our hope o'er whelmed, In final, fierce eclipse; And what to us remaineth But to blow our earthworks high, And hurl our useless batteries In wild fire to the sky? " I i I i 280 LATE R POEj'US. 0 Through wasted Carolina, Where'er from plain to hill The Briton's -iiarded fortresses Uprose defiant still, Passed a keen shock of terror, .,knd the breasts of war-steeled men Quailed in the sudden blast of dooiii That smote their spirits then. CHARLESTON BE TAKEN. 281 'Twas done! each deadly fastness In flaming fragments driven Farther than e'er their souls could climb Along the path to heaven - Coastward the Britons hurried, In reckless throngs that flee Wild as Deceinber's scattered clouds Stormn-whlirled toward the sea. In Charleston stree ts they gathered, Each dazed wiseacre's head Wagging, perchance in prophecy, Or more perchance in dread. Horsemen and footmen mingled, They talked with bated breath Of the shameful fate that stormed the gate, Of wrlack, and strife, and death! "Three hundred noble vessels Rose ol the rising flood, Wherein with sullen alathy Embarked those men of blood." Mleanwhile our squadrons hastened, Keen as a sleuth-lound pack That near their destined quarry By some drear wild-wood track, Ah, Christ! what desolation Before us grimly frowned! The roadways trenched and furrowed, The gore-eusanguined ground, With many a mark (oh! deep and dark!) Made ghastlier by the star-white frost, 'Twixt broken close and thorn-hedge row, Of desperate charge and mortal blow In conflicts won or lost! No sportive flocks in the pasture, No aftermath on the lea; No laugh of the slaves at labors No chant of birds on the tree; But all things bodeful, dreary, As a realm by the Stygian flood, With odors of death on the uplands, And a taste in the air of blood! On, on our squadrons hastened, Sick with the noisome fumes From man and beast unburied, Through the dull funeral gloomir CHARLESI'ON RET.41N. 281 Their broad domains all blackened With taint of fire and smoke, And corpses vile with a death's-head smile, Swung high on the gnarld oak. Proud manors once the centre Of jubilant life and mirth, Now silent as the sepulchre, Begirt by ruin and dearth; V - -- -- V -- V - A - V V VA V V - V V A - - V V V A V - - V V V - V V V- - VAA V A V V V&V V A V - - - - - - V V — - V V~~~~~~~ A V 78 .Vt - V V V V V VV - - - - V V V V V V V VV V V V V A A - - V V - - - V V V - V V - - - V V V -A V V & - V - - - V V V - V V A V - V V - - - - V - - V A - V V - - fj - - V -- - - _ A A V -- - VAA -A V V - A - .1 - 0 A V -- - V - V V - A - - V V V - V V -C C- $ C — f -- $ 7 $ V V V - - V A - bfJ - V V VV - V - - - V - V V V V V V - V - - - A V V V V A V A T V V V - V V A bf & A - V - V - - - V V - V - V - - *- V - V - V V - - -- - -- -.- .- - -- - - V - CV - V V V - V V - V V -~ V - - V A A A V V V? A C V - - - - A AT A - - V V - - - V - - V - V - V A - - V V A V - VVA& V - V Cf V - A V - V V V - V V V V V V - - - V - V - - V V VVVV V V $ V ,;I p. v - I a) -1 bt 9;z - (Z' tj - 0 " 'I) - 7 :-, p , 6 -8 1 - 0 x, -1, - I 't Z, 11 E 0 ;. I 4 (Z) 0 0 0 , c ; I;, t,,;, t v It -0 -: rj R c, I -9 F) C.) .F, 70TO 7'HE A U7HOIfo Ol'I IE 0'1(,1''O-1 lIiAiV 1''I',5'." lBtit if years of mor-tal being Trel)led threescore and tein, At tlhe last, our souls exultant, AWotuld recall that scene again, W1-itlh its soft "God bless you, ge nllen? ~'' Its greetings -wvarmi and true, And the tears of bliss our lips kiss From iidear eyes black or blue. So Ikeell, so clear thy geliius, that no iiiist Of subtlest phrase can baffle or (lelay The lance -like, sw-ift illumiiiiiating ray, mWherewith, 0 art-enainored( anialist. Thly lighltning logic cleaves the elusive gist Of thlou,lghts Protean; or, in lowvlier play, Smites tinselled weakness to a red (l dis imay As swordsiiien smlite by one (left turni of wrist. Yet oft that glittering and reniorseless blade Thy logic wields is dropped that tlhou imay'st take Somne gracious lyre, and sing with liquid breath By many a haunted dell and shadowy lake, AViWhere faun and naiad wander und(lis mayed, Lays of Arcadian love, or painless deatlh. Natlless. despite our rapture, Down to tlle harbor-lioutlh WAe (ldogged the Britons doomnedi fly For-ei-eve from our Soutlh! Tliev left as somne foul vltlture iiglit leave his miangled( prey, nl pass -ith clotted bea k a nd ing Ileltattintly aN-ay. hrhiee huincidrle(d noble vessels l)o(e on1 the rising floodl, AWheein wNiith sulleni apathy Einl)alrked those men of blood; Tlieii stireamied their adimiral's pen nant - The northwl-est breeze blew free; With sloping mast. and current fast, Out swept their fleet to sea. (IN T~lE' 1t;>j;~~~\~ ____________ ~; ~~<~~;;; __ ~ _ ffiffi -:ffiTh ~~~i ~'~i //~,, ____ __ _____ I LIN AIBUSH. -SOUTH CAROLINA, ETC. Whose course, in blood and wrath be g,tn, Grew gentler, as the mellowing lights Of peace made beauteous sky and sod; His evening came; - he walked with God; And down life's gradual sunset-slope, Hle hearkened to a heavenly hope;"Look up! behold the fadeless heights Which rise to greet thee, - Washing ton! " For ever thus, since time was born, Cold virtue points her shaft of scorn At passionate love, in whose warm beam Her own but seems a crescent dream. ESPECIALLY TO THOSE THAT FORMED A PART OF THE ORIGINAL THIIIRTEEN. He dies! the nations hold their breath! IIe dies! but is he thrall to Death?Thousands who quaff earth's sunshine free, Are less alive on earth than he; Lacking that power which thrills through none But God's elect, that winged spell Which like miraculous lightning darts Electric to all noble hearts; Flashed from his soul's sublimer sphere, 'Tis still a matchless influence here! Majestic spirit! all is well, Where'er thou rulest, - Washington! I LIFT these hands with iron fetters banded: Beneath the scornful sunlight and cold stars I rear my once imperial forehead branded By alien shame's immedicable scars; Like some pale captive, shunned by all the nations, I crouch unpitied, quivering and apart - Laden with countless woes and desola tions, The life-blood freezing round a broken heart! About my feet, splashed red with blood of slaughters, My children gathering in wild, umourn ful throngs; Despairing sons, frail infants, stricken daughters, Rehearse the awful burden of their wrong s; Vain is their cry, and worse than vain their pleading: THE crescent moon, with pallid glow, Swept backward like a bended bow: Across, a shaft of phantom light Thrilled, like an arrow winged for flight. Just when that flickering shaft was aimed Venus in mellow radiance flamed, Unmindful of the treacherous dart Which seemed upreared to pierce her heart; * This Poem was composed at a period when it seemned as if all the horrors of misgovernment, so graphically depicted by Pike in his "Prostrate State," would be perpetuated in South Carolina. It was a significant and terrible epoch; a time American statesmen would do well to remember occasionally as a warning against patchwork political re-constructions. For, fain to smite her through and through, Dian lay ambushed in the blue: Half veiled from sight, still, still below, She aimed her shaft, she clasped her bow. 29'i 0 SOUTH C,4ROLIN,4 TO THE ST,4TES OF I'HE NOR7H.* De(licated to His Excellency, Wa(le I-Ianipto?z. 0 lV A TIB USH. t L.A lTER J-OEMS. Even at the thought, beside the pros trate column Of chartered rights, which blasted lay and dilmUprose my noblest son with purpose sol elIlil, While, host on hlost, his brethren fol lowed hi))i: Teul gol, grasped by t)rtth, arraigned by late, (whose sober .Mlajestic mandates rule o'er change and time) - Smit by the )allot, like some flushed Oc tober, Reeled in the autumn rankness of his crime; Struck, tortured, pierced —but not a blow returning. The steadfast phalanx of my ihoored braves Planted their bloodless flag where sun rise burning, Flashed a new splendor o'er our miar tyrs' graves' What then? 0, sister States! what wel come omen Of love and concord crossed our brightening blue, The foes we vanquished, are they not yoltl foemen, Our laws upheld, your sacred safe guards, too? Yet scarce had victory crowned our grand endeavor, And peace crept out fronm shadowy glooms remnoteThan -as if bared to blast all hope for ever, Your tyrant's sword shone glittering at my throat! Once more my bursting chains were re united, Once more barbarian plaudits wildly I tturn fromi storimiy breasts, from yearning eyes, To mark wh-lere Freedorn's outraged formi receding,a Vanes il chill shadow down the mid niglht skies' I wooed her once in wild tempestuous places, The ptiiple -vintage of my soul out poured, To win and keel) her unrestrained eim braces, AWhliat time the olive-crowni overtopped the sword; O! nortlimen, with your gallant heroes blenlding,i Mine, in old years, for this sweet god (less died; But nowe-ah! shame, all other shame transcending! Your p itiless hands have torn her from nly side. Jlicat! tis ( tyioilt-a)(lty'ts treache)-ots action - Yolkel haeud is cletii, yott' coliscielice clears, ye sigh; Ay! but ere now your sires had throt tledl faction, Or, pealed o'er half the world their battle-cry; Its voice outrung from solemin mountain passes Swept by wild storm-winds of the At lantic strand, To where the swart Sierras' sullen grasses, Droop in low languors of the sunset landd! Never, since earthly States began their story, HIath any suffered, bided, borne like m e: At last, recalling all mine ancient glory, I vowed my fettered commonwealth to rung O'er the last piromiiise of deliverance bliglited, free: Iti E NIRIE SOUi' 1'0 T/lA NO7' i'l. Wlhen ol( sore-calnkerilg wounld(s that pierced ai(i stuing,, Throbbed with their first, ~nad, feverotis pain 11o longer-, PWh ile the fair future spake with flat terinig tonguie; Wlhen once, onlce more she felt her pulses beating To rlvhythml s of healthful joy an(d brave desire' Lo! rolunl(l lher d(loolmed(l llorizoll da('lrkly meetinlg, o pall of bloo(l-red( vl ors veinell withi fire! O! glh,,stly portent, of fast-comiiing sor ()f d(loom tliat l)lasts thle )loo(d and b)igligts the I)ieatll, R-obs y-oultlh (ad(i manhood of all gol(len l llorl'l'ow\s S l o nd life's clear goblet b)rims witlh winie of (eatlth.!O! sw-ift fultilnient of this portent (dreary! O! niglltiaie rule of ruin, racked by Heaitl)1rokekn w-i, anil solenn m iserere, Imperi os 11 ngish. and soul-melting teasis! O! faitly, thrfst (lowi-niward(l from celestial splendors, O! love giief-hound(l, with palely-mur all rll'OIIS lmouletI! O! ag,onize(s by life's supremle surren (lers - Belholhl liei now —-the scouirged and suiff(eriing Sout h! No balmii ini (G,ilead? niay, but while her forehead Pallid aid(i drooping, lies iin foulest dust, There steals across the desolate spaces tori-id, A voice of imaniful cheer anid heavenly trust, A hand redeeming breaks the frozen starkness Of palsied ner-ve, and (dull, despondent brain' The prostrate purpose, and the palsied toingue: Ahl! faithless sisters, neatlhi niy swift llund(loing, Peers tlhe black presage of your wiratl to come;t Above your heads are signial clouds of ruin,hatn Whose lightnings flaslh, whose tlhun ders are not di!dei There towers a judgmient-seat beyond our seein-g; Tlhere lives a Judge, whomi none can bribe or blind; Before -whlose dread dlecree, your spirit fleeing, MAay reap the whliirlw-inid, having sown the winid: I, in that d(lay of justice, fierce and torrid, When b)lood - yo t r blood - outpours like poisoned wine, Poibitiliq to th(,se chainledi limibs, this . lly )i!o(1, ott r i, (s ye.iock ed at 11is iie! THE STRIC(KE-V SOUTH TO THE N 011 7'11. [I)edicated( to Oliver WVendell HIolmes.] "We are thinking a great d(eal about the poor fever-stricke]1 cities of the South, and all contributing according to our means for their relief. Every mi oninig as the paper comes, the first questioln is'What is the last account foio enleiphis, (-renada, ani( New Orleaiis.' - xtact fio a private letter of 1),. hrIl>es. WnHEN ruthful time the Soutlh's iienmor ial places Her heroes' graves-had wreatlhed in grass and flowers; When Peace ethlereal, crowned by all her graces, Returned to make more bright the suIimmer hourLis; W hen (loubtftl hearts re vived, and hopes grew stronger' 299 LATER POEMS. Rolls back the curtain of malignant darkness, And shows the eternal blue of heaven again - Revealing there, o'er worlds convulsed and shaken, That face whose mystic tenderness enticed To hope new-born earth's lost bereaved, forsaken! Ah! still beyond the tempest smiles the Christ! I seemed to stand on a vast lonely height, Above a city ravished and o'erthrown, The air about me one long lingering mioan Of lamentation like a dreary sea Scourged by the storm to murmurous weariness; Then, from dim levels of miist-folded ground Borne upward suldenly. Burst the deep-rolling stress Of jubilant drums, blent with the sil — very sound Of long-drawn bugle notes - the clash of swords (Outflashed by alien lords) - And warrior-voices wild with victory. Whose voice? Whose hand? Oh, thanks, diviniest Master, Thanks for those grand emotions which impart Grace to the North to feel the South's disaster, The South to bow with touched and cordial heart! Gore-, now at last the links which war had broken A re N-elcled fast, at nerey's charmiied commands; Now, now at last the magic words are spoken Which blend in one two long-divided lands! O North! you came with warrior strife and clangor; You left our South one gory burial ground; But love, more potent than your haughti est anger, Subdues the souls which hate could only wound! They could not quell the grieved and shuddering air, That breathed about me its forlorn de spair: It almost seemed as if stern Triumph sped To one whose hopes were dead, And flaunting there his fortune's ruddier grace, Smote — with a taunt — wan Misery in the face! Lo! far away, (For now my dream grows clear as lu minous day, ) The victor's camp-fires gird the city round; But she, unrobed, discrowned - A new Andromeda, beside the main Of her own passionate pain; Bowed, naked, shivering lowVeils the soft gleam of melancholy eyes, Yet lovelier in the ir woe,Alike from hopeless earth and hopeless skies. No Perseus, for her sake, serenely fleet, Shall cleave the heavens with winged and shining feet: Ah me! the maid is lost For sorrow, like keen frost [Written by request of the committee of arrangements, for the opening ceremonies of the International Cotton Exposition, in Atlanta, Georgia, Oct. 5, 1881. I IIHAD) a vision at that mystic hour, WVhen in the ebon garden of the Night, Blooms the Cimmerian flower Of doubt and darkness, cowering from the light. 300 i i 0 THE I?ETURN OF PEACE. THE RETURN OF PEACE. Shall eat into her being's anguished core - Atlanta (not Andromeda in this), Wvhat outside helper can bring back her bliss? Can re-illume, beyond its storm-built bar, Her youth's auroral star, Or wake the aspiring heart that sleeps forever more. Touched by the charm of some regener ate fate Flush into golden harvests prodigal; Set by the steamn-god's fiery passion free, I hear the rise and fall Of ponderous irion-clamped machinery, Shake, as with e arthquake thrill, theil te factory halls; While round the massive walls Slow vapor, like a sinuous serpent steals - Through which revolve in circles, great or small, The deafening thunders of the tireless wheels! O! lying prophet of a sombre mood, This city of our love Is no poor, timorous dove, To crouch and die unstruggling in the mire; If. for a time, she yields to force and fire, Blinded by battle-smoke, and drenched with blood, Still must that dauntless hardihood Drawn to her veilns from out the iron hills, (Ner-viing the brain that toils, the soul that wills, ) Shake off the lotus-languishment of grief! I see her rise and clasp her old belief, In God and goodness - with imperial glance, Face the dark front of frowning Circum stance, - While trusting only to her strong right armc To wrench from deadly harm, All civic blessings and fair fruits of peace! High-souled to gain (despite her ravished years), And dragon-forms of mons trous doubts and fears, The matchless splendor of Toil's " golden fleece! " Far down each busy mart That throbs and heaves as with a human heart Quick merchants pass, some debonair and gay, With undimmed, youthful locks Some wrinkled, sombre, gray But all with one accord Dreaming of him - their lord - The mighty monarch of the realm of stocks! And year by year her face more frankly bright, Glows with the ardor of the bloodless fight For bounteous empire o'er her cherished South. More sweet the smile upon her maiden mouth, Just rounding to rare curves of woman, hood: Because all unwithstood The magic of her power and stately pride Hath called from many a clime Of tropic sunshine and of winter rime, The world's skilled art and science to her side; Hence from her transient tomb, Three lustra since, a hideous spot to see - Grows the majestic tree Of heightened and greeni-leavedt pros perity. I see her rise, and strive with strenuous hands firmly to lay The fresh foundations of a nobler sway War-wiasted l ands Laden with ashes, gray and desolate lo 0 1 i I I I I LA-'l'L POEj11. Inii yellow stalks, or sifted meal for br ead; Ulnlnlittibered birtlhs of Ceres (ltustered Hence, lher b)roa(l gardleIra blooili Witli rose and(l lily, anid all lowers of 1)(11lli. And hence al)bov-e the lines Of her vast railways, droop the laden vines -t A luscious largess thro' thle suminier calin! nigl; B13eliol(diiig which -— as touclhed by tr-opic lieal,(Thle old-world picture never c(to gl'ow old, Nor tlhe deep love that thlrills it (Iiiinh and cold )Cleali fancy looks On l?,oaz iii tli(m lheat, Ab(d in thelr sierple traetlt, The tenider eyes of Ru1ltll Hloldin,g tlie garnieie(r fragmiienits at hlis feet! Feeling her veins so full of lusty blood, That pulsed within tlem like a rhlytlh iic flood, And eager for sweet sisterhood, -the bond 131issful and( fond, That yet may hold all nations in its tlhrall, Atlanta - fromi a night of splendid dreams, Roused by soft kisses of the morningp beaiims, Decreed a glorious festival Of art and comnmierce in her brave (lomiiaini; She sent hler sunininons on the couriier breeze; Or tlnro' the lightning- wingid(I wire Slashe(l fortli hei soul's desire: Swiftly it passed, L O'er native hills and streams and prairies ] vast,- And o'er waste barriers of dividing seas "fill from all quarters, like quick tongues of flaine, That warm, but burn not,- cordial an swers came, And waftage of benignant mnessages. But piled o'er all, thro' maiy ai un d moPengd bal e Peering to slhow its snow-xxhIite softness pale, — Snlow-white, yet warmi, and (lestined to be furle(d in somiie auispiciouis day, For whichl we yeaiii ald play, Round half the nake(d imiiser-y of the world, A fleece more richl tliaii Jasoii's, glances down. Ali! well we know nio lioiiaricli's jewelled ClAONd 11 ol N'o miaIrvelloit,s kolh-i-noor, Won, first perchance, froii gulfs of humiiani gore, Or life-toil of swart millions, gaunt and poor, Ilatlh e'er outshone its peerless sover eignty. The wings of song unfold Towards thy nioontide-gold; The eyes of song are clear, (Turned on thy broadening sphere) To mark, oh! city of the midland-weald, And follow thy fair fortunes far afield - The years unborn, Doubtless miust bring to thee Trials to test thy spirit's constancy; (While unithlift aliens wear the mask of sco.) Thus, thus it is a mighty concourse meets O'erflowing squares and streets - Borne at flood-tide toward the guarded ground, Where treasures of two hemispheres are found, To tax the inquiring mind, the cu'rious eye! Grain of the nplavd and damp rler-bed 302 i I'H E AE 7(jA - I' Ib,'-(" I. lint to ~~ iii ~i( lit i~~itt liii Iloillil, of st('4litN f(i'lii4 ]~~V~i( ot (~iiiiit ijl~ \~i)~ 1)110(1 AiiIT if foi-c f i~oiit,s tliee wiitl a ip-it-iei — iiiiv~ aoii~(i!IIIc aiiii siil1\~41 tl(, a., t1 h~e ailtheieli( ~ (0(i ~i1 t h er laindio~, \ 0(1 iii~~fl\ ~ ~ltl)~ei i01 Oh (liueei' i~i lii illiait, lioi-oseor)(, ~(i(Ti Ii fl~l ttl~te ~ te ~n4u Ii i~c ast I)\ Ilelios iii the ]all, oft (1, - I (lils. Toticli,, ].N ti~,, 111liai-iii otf soiuc i-ege(iii-ate fa~te - Finsli into go)lden liarvests p-rodigal."' Ain( lioiil)(,1(eornies ftitliltiieiit, as thl j v wo4ehain ng~iiiis F~i'iti. I)i((( h~etwieeii the lix-iini aii(I the i oe AN-iiis the Iii'lh -i'adle iiiieli ownis aseee ai ~kiidI to~lss iiiiili0ts -\ol-. no In thec I v-iewn lheav-eni, ~itirpose pei,O-oi ullirettcn Thloti shialt l)e eip's'of all p~eaceftidlih t ti'i~~~~~~~~~~Ai - i-ari-ioi-qiieeii io iiuore, ]-)tt itiailei(l ilc~~~ail - ~~~Tliv sp)eai- a ftilgeiit sliaft of soiil heavenward slope: Thlyvslield ahiieklei-,tliefelliiisw e ~cii fiii~e andfrond tindone.Of str-oig gireei liii th s,ilv-ery feeteil J~~~~~~~~~I'iN stainiles,s erci-oNii. r-ed r-os(es, I)dent ties. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ —Now. tlii-oie(i ah~ove the li(tilt-forg-otten All poteiit industiesipu I i) .-) i I I LATER POEMS. The bass of the drum and the trumpet that thrills Through the multiplied echoes of jubl)i lant hills. And mlark how the years melting up ward like mist Which the breath of sonie splendid en clhantment has kissed, Reveal on the ocean, reveal on the shore The proud pageant of conquest that graced them of yore, Wllieni blended forever in love as in famne See, the standard which stole from the starlighlt its flai re, And type of all chivalry, glory, romance, The lilies, the lmninous lilies of France. Of dreadful war, and Ifwar's remorseless blight,t t Tllv lheart-tlhrobs glad and great, Sending through all thy Titan-statured state, Fresh life and gathering tides of grander power From glorious hour to hour, Thousands thy deeds shall bless With strenuous pride, toned down to tenderness: shall b)less thy deeds, exalt thy namne; Till everv breeze that sweeps from hill to lea, And every wind that furrows the deep sea, Shall waft the fragrance of thy soul abroad The sweetness and the splendor of thy fale: - For thou. midmost a large and opulent store, Of all things wroughlt to meet a nation's need, Tlhou. nobly pure, Of anyv darkening taint of selfish greed, Aert pre-ordained to be Purveyor of divinest charity,.The love-commnissioned almoner of God. Oh, stubborn the strife ere the conflict was won! And the wild whir lin g war wrack half stifl ed th e sun. Th e tlunders of canno n that boomied on the lea, But re-eclhoed far thunders pealed up fromi the se a, Where guarding his sea lists, a knight on the waves, Bold De Grasse kept at bay the bluff bull-dogs of Graves. The day turned to dankness, the night changed to fire, Still more fierce waxed the combat, more deadly the ire, Undimmed by the gloom, in majestic advance, Oh, behold where they ride o'er the red battle tide, Those banners united in love as in fame, YORTK7'O JFN CEVTENNIAL LYRIC. [5Vritten at the request of the Yorktowu Centenniiial Comtmissionl, appointed by Congress, t( c)nduilLct the celebration of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, to the combined forces of France and At m erica, upon the 19th of Oct. 1781, at Yorktown, Va.] The brave standard which drewn from the star-beamis their flaimie, gAnd type of all chivalry, glory, roiiiance, The lilies, the luminous lilies of France. H1P, K, hark! down the century's long reaching slope To those transports of triumph, those raptures of hope, The voices of main and of mountain comnbined Il glad resonance borne on the win gs of the wind, No respite, no pause; by the York's tortured flood, The grimn Lion of England is writhing in blood. .-'j (- 4 in his rear, ANliile thle French on his flank hurl such v-olleys of shot That e'eii Gloucester's re(louibt must be growing too hot. Thuls w(led in lov-e as unitedl in fame, LJo the standardl A-which stole from tihe starlight its flame, Ad tp)e of all cli-alry, glory, romance, The lilies, tle liniiiouts lilies of France. slhall cast Tlhe proud beauty that lhaloes tlhe b)rowv of the past. Ohi! weddled in love, as illnited in fame, See thle standlard wlichli stole fromi the starlight its flamillie, And type of a,ll chivalry, glory, romance, The lilies, the lIminolls lilies of France. O molrin g siper l)' -lrwhen the siege real~eld its close: See! the sma(wniu outtbloomu, like the alcheiiiist's rose! T''le last w-reathls of slmoke from diii trienclies upeturled, .Are transformed to a glory that smiiles on tlhe w-orlhl. Joy, joy! Sav-e the wana, wastej front of the foe, Witli his battle-flags furled and his arms trailing loN'- - IeCspect for thel) brave! InI stern silence tluey yield, And( ill silenice tlhey pass with bowed heads from thle field. 'TlIhen triumphl transcendent! so Titan of tole Th'lat some vow-e(d it must startle King George oil his throne. Ot clo I 1VE PElS.E( lI7I O OF TIJIIE IJE1 V'5 | V 1. 1,i,SlI,t. "B e adv 3ise (l! J)o not tra i)l ijl)on ()l my I)eop1l e. J(ttioIs ai (Ie t\ictt o rl) ee,ss'tts (l o'not thrive." — 1,'i-o), Ch/lcc/es lcade's "Xvever l'o0 Latte to 3I(1." oVIIAT mnnulllrllrS are tho(se that so w0o fully rise Into liear-t-storms of agony borne fromii afai? A tempest of passion, a tumult of sighls? There is dread on the eart h, a nd stern grief in the skies, While the nations, appalled, watch the realhn of the Czari! Can hlumanity's sun have gone dowi in anll 1our, Or a fiend have struck mercy's soft key-note ajar, That upwhliirled on the fierce winds of madness and power, This clotll( - with its hlail of harsh lhatreds - slohl(l low er O'er those wh-lio still call on their " father," the (Czar? AWhlen Peace to her own, timed the pulse of the land, An(d the war weapon sank from the war wearied hand, Youn o Freetlohm u pborne to the height of the goal 0 lii li~lls In lliiio —gir(Ilell, thlO l~iver~s Bt te il~~liCi?tls tii '' ii'ou,ii tie silllllol stiuteel of love swnift r-aN-,go of wt h zr A oil Ott he lli~ ttl&eteThll ~ljlltor-tttrk(, tite li\-Il "tiliI sl)are,s niot ul tite uaetotlo ar etI the (leasti:tt401 iii fatlic-r tle i(- r ('z~tiro-wot1Ie -~li~ 11o - tilro,,t'-,I tllti col"t'rilot's s~,ttelty ls ~ lioltir ~ tealtt of,tii lk: ti Izar?, tIt le t~ilt te (out jtltieellal Iii lii~t~ itI~,tl~le liot iitlti l,'lls of jttC lt 'i'lt(, v —iorlil liolIls it- ~i,'lli~ to ti,tark l itt h idti ~is it lulsti Ott titeit' himitless cours-~e that i10 I)u11- ~ lo rls-lev ep te PBttt ilitt,teal, thriotigli hiis wily statte p~ar asite caime A cc'p so false, its uttslpeakable SA,sJ\1 IO' (Iireailts, of tile ('za" time ,N-o wodfor tile victitu-s, a~ll I)tttciieredtocie atlil l)at'e, ltlooitl-t-tu'ute,(l lr11 For',lie I)ooi- t'a\-isli( ttii inliwose sole fhael(110wol eetiewt sliirotd(I isIter lia~rllo 1 l i e 4 e e ~ i i t t ~ o r ( i l u t t I ) tBei r tOll i Ili i 1tl asl i t r s t t ha t t t a h a a ti - W lt i l e th o e o f l i t t u )o v ~ u i i t e,' )f ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~Iigil itila jliust!(,( oi-~ i-ua( ~ ~ itli, iio ion all (ie(rl i ofr n ot titi' (' i t I 1~~~~~)li~~ti a ck yo t t iii t' s e o f w atl,L t - ii a ot t t i (' r i warttittilos of l ttg i ttII-) S( Il~ w a r T e a t i l~~~ a r; t h o s e ri e a utli s o f the C z a r!) I'l (liitt y eo t h at of r e d n y i e d s ti -r l t t l B\' tile ltt'at'tlt-st~~~~~ote lelei ttl tte r ti e faith witite tess of ied v)it'ii(,otta I i 11ur't the l)ase soul. iunmask thle treaclherotus face, Drop l)ow-l or dag-eir wh-ile ye brin her naug'ht Butt the giand w'orsllip of a selfless thloulght! liigli; Thliy miountain tarlus, ea(ch like a glitter ilg star, Shall I belhol(h tlleir marvels ere I (lie? Thine opulenit townA-s, tlhr-onted o'er the subject-mai,Iiln, Girt lv l)rave fleets, tllheir weary cainv-as fro'led, I)eep-ladeii a,rgosies thlrouglh stors and stl.rain, Boille froiii the lutmost boud(laries of thte w-oldl O'er all. thly Loiondon! very stone witI br)ltatll Iniduie(d to qiiestioii, couni,sel]. or reply; C(ity of iiiglitiest life ai(Il mitghltiest Shlall I l)ehlol(l tlhy spll(ei(lors ere I die? yBut most I yentli, iii lI)odv is hleart. to b~ow Before oir Elgl,in(l's )()oets, strong ll(l w-i s e. Wiatcli sonie agriad( tlhoughl t uplift tle laiireate's b)row-, Aniid flashl or fa(le in Swinbnrie's fiery eyes. And( othler glorious Ininstrels would( I g~reetI dBound( to lilv life l)vy many a rhlythlili tie. Wlaeni shlall I lear tlheir welcomes frankly s-aweet. Ancl clasp) tllost cordial lhan(ds, lefore I (li "? EN GL.4-VD. LxNI) of mln fatlher' s love, Imy fatlier'se race. lto\ lo ng muslll,l-t I iin wN-eary exile To mieet tliee. O imy ellipress, face to face. Anid kiss tllh radiant robes before I {lie? 0 Engl-,and('. ill imiy creed, the lhuliiiblest (lust Beside tlhy lhaunite(d sllolres and(I shadowy strealls. Is tolched ly miiemories and( ly tlhoulghlts august. 13y golden hiistories aiid majestic dreams. 0 Englanid! to mny miiood thy lowliest flo-wel F'e,eds oni tlie,miiiles of somiie traniscen dent sk-: Tlhy frailest ferin-leaf slhrinies a spell of power! Ah! slall I alk tly woodlands ere die? LA2ElR POEMIS. Fair blow- the breezes; higl are sail and steaim; Soon mutst I mark brave England's brighiteninig lea; Fulfilled at lengthl, the large and lustrous dream Whlich lured me long across the sum-i iniei sea! Alas! a imom-ent's triumph!!- false as vain! O'er dreary hills the gaunt pines moan and sigli; IPale grow-s my dream, pierced throughi ly b)o(Ieful pain; England! I sliall not see thee ere I die! " PIIlLIP M Y KIlG. " * " PIIILIP, my king,," ay, still tlhou art a king, Though storms of sorrow on thy suf fering head Have flashled and thundered through the mi-idni-ght's dread; Ahl, lofty soul! fraughlt witlh the sky lark's wing To capture heaven, the sky-lark's voice to sing Such notes ethereal through veile(l brightness shed Their gracious power to liquid pathlos wedl, Thrills like the soft rain-pulses of the spring: Banned fromn earthl's day - thine i)?. tc((lt sighlt expands Above the nighlt-bound senses' birth or bars; Lord of a larger realm, of subtler scope, Where thouL at last shlalt press the lips of Ilope, And feel God's angel lift in radiant hands Thy life from darkness to a place of stars! Ileanwhile, alas! despite these inwar(l spells Of voice and vision, and fond llope to be, Perchanice,-tlliouglh vaguely shadowedI fortlh to tlhee,Oft-times thy thought but echoes the deep knells Of buried joy; oft-timies thy spirit swells Withl moaning imemiories,like a smiitten sea, When the worn tempest wandering up the lea, Leaves a low wind to breathe its wild farewells. "Philip mlily AKi /,"'iss fi Mulock's ex(qlisite song, all lovers of l)o(etry Imust recall.''he little hlero of that lyric was Philip Marston, thle autthor's go(l-son. TO L OQVGI;'ELL 0 IV. (o_N- IIEAP,Im-N IIE WX-S ILL.) C) TIIOU, Awhose potent gellis (like the sun Tenderly mellowed by a rippling haze ) Hast gained thee all men's homage, lo-e and praise, Surelv thly web of life is not ontspun, Thyl glory- rounded, thy last guerdon N-on! Nay- poet, iiay! - from thoughlt's calhn sunset ways lay new —b)orn notes of undegenerate lays (lhiaiiii back the twilight gloom ere dlay be done! But past the poet crowned I see the friend - Frank. courteous, true - about whose locks of gray, Like gol(len bees, some glints of summer stray; Clear-eyed, with lips half poised 'twixt smile and sigh; A ])row in wNhose souIl-mirroring man hood blend Grace. sweetness, power and ina g nianimiity! 308 A PLEA FOR 1'HE GRAY. 0 brother! - pondering dreary and apart O'er the dead blossoms of deciduous years: 0 poet! fed too long on bitter tears! I waft, o'er seas, a white-winged courier dove, Bearing to thee this balmy spray of love, Warm from the nested fragrance of my heart. ':% -.', -7? ",..~: .~~ j:...' [A discussion has recently been inaugurated in the city of Mobile, Ala. among the military comi-paniies, as to the propriety of chainging the Gray for the Blute or some other uniiforimi.] I'VHE-N- the land' s mlartyr, mid her tears, Oiutbreatlied his latest breath, The d(liscord of long,. festering yvears, Lay also (dinb) in death: ()Our souls a new —born friendsliip d(rew AVitlh spells of kindliest sway; At last. at last, the conquering BlueB Blent with the vanquished Gray! Yet, splho thro' this south-lagdt of ours, While faith and love are free, But still must cast nmemiiorial flowers Across the grave of lee? And oft their ancient grief r-eniew O'er " Stonewall's " cherished clay? The heart that's pledged to guard the - Blu e Mulst h1onor still the Gr ay! 309 ,I') "Old passions may be purged of blood, Old imiemories canniiot die." AP LLEA F OIl TIIE GRA Y. l'OEY~,I],SAI. () v'tC1'1m of 1~~ot~)ma~~s flood not tlii'oiigli stormii and str-ess tli(~y 1Ot~I11OI1(?caitnot dieAnd frank ats cleai- (ctober's iray ()r 1-ick.~l)n1g' I iii-i( sky (1( Fl1(l Ilt,ioii- iV)a) \ (~ I~i~i ige(i dwT sincn of I)Iooncaud(tay j~)lViN'l( V)))ill' iiia))lioo(ls Iav, Anid piat tli(,1 Iiilit i-ttl)i l)c t APiixfoiiIliolitwo IIires I)rj)gack thc stainle~s raIci (visis,)5li fi)) Faii- ('lia,i-lcstoii wNitlh ler stailess)ires ~~itli l)')t)~i'c )icrcs. o 1)lated s~)t. )rca,,ks tlii'(oiigli th i -e,,teiei-otis battle ~ l~lt hiul yeof tlse}) IfI'of view'I'i'ii voiI's l)(,tl( fi-oi~i Iii~ t as tr~ie,, i~'l~I~l)CI1 i) yonr mi))s to-day? For- stilife li(,s (t(l,,t~t'twNixt (,i',jay aLll~l lie (ma yr of tli(, dI(csJeI-ate tiglit, lciisbticslrsiaiddsa -kIT NN-(,,at ailI 1)r-olkeiinw oliitigTi iior i)sil-bl ,I111 ((1)1 to (Iol, the 1(oiI B'~~1ltie, A- clazt.I \ otir lattercd( Girly!'ii~iiti,Ik) iaiiiind ,StTl "looIills lc(iIll1 s ittre keep; flic VI1I'I of Ieall iei)I ~I))iiIT.Ills gi-,tiiite I~as(,, louii cleaiisetl of 1)1004, ~)tt (II)))) ~ a Ilik, 01 l'vI~sMerI Tyl)(, of that I)e.acc -\vIos( sacr-(,(l sway true. Ln~~~~~~~~ifol(Is t~lie jliie, e'xalts t~li(hay FI~rIin ))iai)\- a i\ot-ii niull atd)1inT ~ ~ iTII )~10( fl'tii~Iale .'O tii fI(ioni eart- (Iti-.oti (( II Is iN-(,r(, olei AoO1 that ci-tonot it llltllo I' I'It "l ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Aii (atC'IlcTli i'>Ad - Min-iiig of,Tl (lie breez(~sfrld Seenii sIo\N-l\ 1)01il n'er0 beaclh aii(I ~itti, ~~ faji' iii~I 2Torions Ill''? Tlir-oti-li (111 oIII)in(, 41iimiii a n ii(,itgl(-t i-ill ('aii )Iit~iOn fotune' il'kleMave,The distant ( alni )in Illlli- still - Ileware les what ve ralilv (IC) )eel)p as that f,,ttli N\,hose cordlial Ie '~li00I~l culliii ~lla~iiedTiatli sootliell tlie Gray anld cliarmied (lie ('Iautt-e wvitl the( cliaii,,efiil sea? ,$Iilll~ ellI ii sii iie( lisiiitay, And( all p~t~ii- (Iliaiiilpioii,, of tIi)' Bltic, lc '5eoi'n traitoit to the (myO'er- Ashiley's breast the autniniii smiiles, All iiel,lowNed iii lier hiazy foldl, _________ \~~~V~lie tite wlhite arniis of laiigitiid isles A~ic( girdled by etlierieal gold1. All -Nattiii'e wlhislpers: w,Nar is o'er, UiVJOA OF BLUE AA~D OBA Y. Fie~rce f(l'i)is lhave fledi oiir sea and shiore; 5li~~~~~~e~~~~)e~~~~t( receill,, foi-ot ol' tOI'ilI. t s reiiewN, byN the re tsn t v l isoit',fore l I~ig ""NA- tlil(t itie Coiime,titeut coln)1)ailte iei'e oftt,,ry n )li Clarnltest,)ii. South Caroliia.. I'lie sotitliei-ii lt'iliii auid nioi-tlier-ii liise Tiii B~e is mrciinsotitl once ooi'e. N'o Ioii-(ite'I'al tlirongli leaf ai-d( Their 1'i~~~~~'4' of ~ ~ ~IarsfahdNerial ae botimdI tli(,ii I)Ibeii(liiiig foliageiinow, ANitli se,,-i-iell steel and~ s,tat('ly tr-ea'I1)l): T elieit iiia,i-t iiT niiiisic lpealedI before, Ta)1)liis o 11t e i~ ,, I i) UIVIO-V OF BLUF, AND GPA I'. 0 IC - - - -. - -- --- - - -. -. —.- - - - 0 0 - 0 - 7 - - -- — 0 - -0 - -. - - - -- - - - -1- -- -Th 0 - 0 0 0 - 0 - 0 c( - ~ 0 0 '-I — - - - - - 0 C5)~~~~~~~~;;;50 0 0 0 0 - -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I 0 - 0~~~~~~~~c 0 - 0 4-~~~~~~~C It It_ i I i I 0 IV (D P cl 11 :5 5 I- I " p 0 (D 11 CD ,- (D It C, It -- p t 1- I-,I t 312 LA'EP J?OEJJS. No tears! you say - since rounded, brave, complete, The poet's work lies radiant at God's feet. Nay! nay! our hearts with grief imutst hold their tryst: How dim growvs all about us and above! Vainly we grope through death's bewil derinc, moist, To feel once more his clasp of hitmqan love! T,ON(;FE l,T,LOW DEAl). Ay, it is well' Crush back your selfish tears; For fromi the half-veiled face of earthly spiing Hlathli lie not risen on heaven-aspiring wing To reach the spring-tide of the eternal -ears? With life full-orbed, he stands amid his peers, The grand immortals! a fair, mild-eyed king, Flushing to hear their potent welcomes ring Round the far circle of those luminous spheres. Mock not his heavenly cheer with mor tal wvail, Unless some human-hearted nightin gale, Pierced by grief's thorn, shall give such music birth That hlie, the new-winged soul, the crowned and shriven, May lean beyond the effulgent verge of heaven, To catch his own sweet requiem, borne from earth! Such marvellous requiem were a plean too - (Woe touched and quivering with triumphant fire); For him whose course flashed always high and higher, Is lost beyond the strange, mysterious blue: Ah! yet, we murmur, cCat this thing be true? Forever silent here, that tender lyre, Tuned to all gracious themes, all pure desire, Whose notes dropped sweet as honey, soft as dew?9 II. ON THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT GAR-FIELD. I SEE the Nation, as in antique ages, Crouched with rent robes, and ashes on her head: Her mournful eyes are deep with dark presages, Her soul is haunted by a formless dread! "0 God!" she cries, "why hast Thou left me bleeding, WNounded and quiverilng to the heart's hot core? Can fervid faitl, winlged prayer, alnd anguished pleading Win balnm and pity from thy heavens no more? "I knelt, I yearned, in agonizing pas sion, Breathless to catch thy'still small voice' from far; Now thou hast answered, but in awful fashion, And stripped our midnight of its last pale star. "What tears are given me in o'ermas tering measure, From fathomless floods of Marah, darkly free, WVhile that pure life I held my noblest treasure Is pluniged forever in death's tideless sea! i i I I I I I I 312 L.4 I'E, P, P 0 E iV S. -LV IIFMOPIALL 1. i i i i i IL AJEIL)MOR,IAMil. To-day is dark; vague d(arikness clou(ls entation. The imuffledl music, the funereal ])ell; Froin far and wide on wings of desola tioii Float wild and wailful voices of fare well. "Tel e Noirtlh-lan-d mourns her grief in full libation, Otitljotrte(I for him whllo died at vic toriv's a oal; Andl tlhe great West, in solemn m1inistra tion, Mlav no, recall her hero's shining soul. iYea. the North miioutrnls; the West; a stricken mother, Droops as in sackcloth with veiled brow and mouth; iAnd what old strifes, whlat waning hates, can smother The generous heart-throbs of the pity ing South? "Did doubt remain? —She crushed its latest ember At that stern moment when the vic tilll's fall Change(l loveliest summer to a grim De cember, Pale(l by the hiss of Guiteau's murder ous ball. Thus by the spell of one vast grief united (Wllhere cypress boughs their death cold shadows wave), Mlv sons, I trust, a holier faith have plighted, VAnd sealed the compact by his sacred grave." I)DEAN- STA-NL1EY. DEAI)! dead! in sooth his marbled brow is cold, And prostrate lies that Aliave, majestic head; True! his stilled features own death's arctic imould, Yet, by Clirist's blood, I know lie is not dead! Ilere fades the cast- off vestment that lihe wore, The robe of flesh, whence his true self hath fled; Whlate'er be false, one faith holds fast and sure, Great souls like his abide not with the dead: Eyried with God, beyond all mortal pain, Breathing the ettffluence of ethereal birth, Through deeds divine, his spirit walks again, On rhytlihmic feet the mournful paths of earth! In heaven immortal, yet on earth su prenme, The glamour of his goodness still sutir vives, Not in vain glinmpses of a flattering dream, Bit flower and fruit of ransomed hu man lives. His hopes were ocean-wide, and clasped mankind; No Levite plea his mercy turned apart, But wounded souls - to whom all else wer e bli nd He soothed with wine and balsam of the heart. 'Tw-as thus she spoke; but still in pros trate sorrow, While lowlier earthward drooped he r brow august. , I , -), " Ilark to those hollow so-Linds of laiii to-ii1ori,ow. Ah! in od's hand the nations ai-e but - dust! Ill. LA iLE.lOEJiS. Wlitli stainless handi(s li( rearedi his lMas ltr' til'o~s; u~A I i~~~ -lis Masterts w-atclhw-ord pealed o'er lanl( aiinl sea; And still throughl days of gain, and dlays of loss, Proclaine(l thle goldell truce of char air, When at thoughlt of the (leetls that must soon be done, The hearts of a thousal(l lea,p up as one, Who could not rush through tlhe diin and(l simoke, The cannon' s crash and t,lhe sabre stroke, Scarce conscious of ebbing blood or bk eatla, With a lauglh for wouinds and a scoff at deatlh'? All men were brethren to his larger creed, Butt giveit the thoughl t sincere - the eaiilrnest aio: CTo(I's garidenl wN-ill Ilot spturn the humblest weedl That yearns for purer air ani(l loftier flaInie. This sweet evangel of the lnboirn years, Seei-like lie spake, as one that viewve(d his goal, WVhile the w-orld felt throughl darkness taild tlioli hrl teai rs, M-ster-ious music thlrill its raptuired soul. iBut when on the sullen breeze there Collies No tllrill of trumpets nor tlhrob of driiiis, But only thle wail of the sick laid low By the treacherous blight of a viewless foeWho, then, will upgirdl his loins for fight With the loathsome pest in the poisoned night, No martial nmusic his pulse to start, Buit the still, smniall voice of the rutlihfl heart? Who then? Behold him, the calm, the brave, On his billowy path to an alien grave! Serene in the charmni of his (od(-like will, This soldier is armored to save, not kill. Ah! swiftly hlie speeds on the mist-bonid stream This pilgrimi wrapped in his tender ( llealll, Itis vision of help for the sick laid low By the evil spell of an amlbuslhe(d foe. Dead'. nay. not (lead! while eagle tlotighlts aspire, Clotlhe(d inl wviniged deeds across the emipyreal height, And all the expanding space is flushed wsitl h fire, And deep on deep, heaven opens to our siglit, He conuot die! yet o'er his (lust we shled OuII rain of human soirrow; on his breast Cross the pale palnis; and pulseless heart and head Leave to the quiet of his cloistered rest. Sleep, knighltly scholar! warrior-saiint, repose! Thy life-force folded like an unfturled sail! Spent is time's rage -its foamn of crested W,oes - And thoui lhast found(l, at last, the Iloly (;l,'il ~ Ah! stA iftly lhe spe eds'mid th e holl o w boom Of bells that are tolling to death and (]())111. 314 Ill. 11. 1,ENNEI. [De,licate(I to the Wife of this liero,,,ti-i,l -Nlart),r.] WIIE.N tlle ii-ar-(Irtiiiis beat aiid the triiiii pets blai-e, Wlieii baiiners flaulit iii the stoi,iily itv. I I I I S,till the Iheio his ou-u great soul enticed 'I'o suftfer and toil iii the iname of Christ, fie follow-s w-hterever ihis Lord had led, l'o the famishedl hlut or the dyinig bed. I iie(iciiies softlv the feverel peaipn; To the stalr-iii he l frirlgetld hi s golden giraiin' And ever before himii anid ever above Is the sheen of the untilfurled wviings of Tile oiiiiiipotent years pass o' er us, bright or dun; — Dawns blushl, and mid-days burn,'till scairce aware Of what deep mleaning haunts our twviliglht air, We pause bew-ildered(l, yeariiing for the S~llll Only to find iu that strange eveinig tidle, By the last stuset patlos sanctifiedl, Pale memiory near us, aii(d divine re gret! 5le: ainw-hile. ini his distant home are those 'l'iat his goiug has robbed of their swveet repose. T'Li u a:tc pass by them like leaden years; Tli ( iilts are bitter w-ithl tears alnd fears'i'ill a last. l)y the lightning glaimour sped. toieus a naime andl date, with the one wN-ord.'-Dead!" .\ndi the arm-s of the smiitten are lifted high. An crd the lhea-ens are rent by anl alguished Ci'V' Then memory gently takes us by the han-id; Anid doubtful boundaries of a faded time, Half veiled in mist and rime, Emerge, grow bright, expand; The past becomes the present to our eyes; Poor slaves of dust and( death, (As if somie trumlp of resurrection clearSomewhere outpealed, o0t)' senses could not hear) Rise, freed froni churchyard taint aud mortal stain; Old friends! dear comrades! 71(f-e N-we imiet again? God! how these dismnl years Of anguished desolation, and veiled tears, Of fettered feeling, atid despondent siglhs, Wither and shrivel like a parchment scroll I)eadl dlead' Vain w-ord for the w-ise to hear' IIow- false its echlo on heart and ear! 'io tlhe earth anid earth's lie may close his eyes, 1),ut -whlo dares tell us a martyr di es? And of li]n just gone it w-ere lest to say 'Tliat in somie chlarmied hour of night or dayHavinig given ius all that his soul could gi-e-ive Brave Hiramii Beininer b)egaii to live. love. TlIo(? ~ \v"-}(o ((l atui-es that N,(~ NNore l ~'~1al (\(r lntwi ()icey oil this ~,rt i-tv'10.4ir )ii1te1.'tii~a& (\ oN~- i- ~eie ) iotit i tli(, N-i(,ti~ i(hai t ti-(,acli tI'itlliili-i- fz(l.e Uill()NN- N-f pl()~iil( tlcii-oicft g w&r ,(,l itl,&iiiiiig a~ oiir owit-. to-(lay; ste l~ii~s siiiil,,. is5 oii(,c tlie\- sititl;le( w\ith') ~'lUil tittt ial jiiiii(,e~iit zest. )lifi ll(Itit.ilriai ( )f i'ii iiitl& irt. atid k(eci slparklilit g tot V1-titis~litrIl like, wNilic-fotalii oili its golden a lu ()f iiiiiilv a w%ariti ha-nil, yieldiiig c~la-si) p 01 llt foi- cla-sit: T3tit liayiot stay. alas! wNe miayr iot Al tatlew-.alta liowe,w stay ku ('itiii-ailes etttiii froln realmis li)evonid Fi-o lo! iin i~i,ilitfiil Ilirecedence of p~ower,tefrs the rest ainiiglw ( ) f~~i(~ ~ )ft ~)U ~ IOU~ T~flii~tgi iatioii r(i) ll i iii\stic,,l flaii1e 1i~~~~~lit Ti~~~~~l c,,tv(iily aii(I (al li y itli vast l,)rea(Idtli iii~~~~~~~~~li~~Eti ~ l i,~le(l( l)NI the ii-j'of a- s})ell hiieffal — I ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ii(1 ~~~~~~ like t~i (i sl)o)I-tiN-( iiviiil1li of iNoo dl M ~~~ 1~~~aiii~~~~y ~stole oii Iiliii (-ovl v. 1)i aiiked( initli i'11\ ~~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~l,N 1(I'~eof till(, fztiii(~st lliiIr A\ilite filigi( -es ~~li(~ii to ind the soc al hoar~lIllacctl( in liis liaii4 -I tiii ritli-(t -ok~iti r-oil, l~lio ilii )eti~us lood tide 1)ou cd Wl iile sa-t~iie fr-oiii the liciglits of reasoii 1Flasie(I a- keenl~~ii like~ liglittiiiig froiti (ie~~~~~t I'lie l~~~~~~evili-Itioit so ('11'l itts ill t w\o, ~ feel the loyal ra-si) T he cloutii (lisipa~iis, to le,a ve - a luti ii To itreet ye one by one. W~~I a-s la-visli(,(l fr e y on o ti e s,a ered the situ: [~hi slii'liii of liontie and coitintry! fro ii -~ Sa l ~it iii~v t il s bre hren.' tha t-(isl'l blutsl of yo ut ht, w hie in imer gted in |A l EVlIORAM L IHis life-pathl seeniedt a shaldowless steep to shiniie, IJea(iiiig forever upward to the stars; 'Itiouglih inaiiy a desperate and(l embit teied strife T''lat ragiig, rose and burst Al)ove the stormi-NN-racked waste of mid dlie-lifee Doiwn to th e ( lay, a feN- sad ye ars ago, AWhleni a grave veteran withi his age's scars, Ile mlloved amiong us, like a Titan maimeid; On-ly o0ie glorious goal, Througlh fate, grief, clhange, the pure al leg,ialnce claijtied I Pal, Illeilorly ear tlus." Of his unconquered and majestic soul; The goal of honor; not that he might rise Alone and dominant; but that all ilesh's eyes 37ifigit view, pevchla,nce thilrottgh iuiich brave toil of his, His country stripped of every filthy weed Of criiime irmputed; in tho?tiht, word A,l c deed, A noble people, none would dare despise In their uin sulliel Pa wlinge esis, (Which he with blissful awe, And all a poet's prescient faith foresaw;) A'aoble people, o'er their subject-lands Rluling with constant hearts and stain less hands; Their feet firmi planted as McGregor's were, I)eep in the lierl)bage of thlleir native sod, And every honest forehead free to rear A front unquelled by fear, Untouched by shame, imfurrowed by despair, - Hfigh in man's sighlt, or bowed alone to G,od! i 81 7 LATER POEMJI S. 0o. let us real the shlaft, and poise the buIlst -l)ove the imohllderilig, but all! priceless dust ()f valiisle(l geniuts! Let our lhomage bce Large as that spleld(1 pirotligality ()f force and love, -whlerewithl lle e staidflylv w-rouglht ()out fromn the quarries of his own deep thouglht, Unnumbered shapes; whether of good or ill, 'No puny puppets whose false action frets On a false stage, like feeble 3Iei'ioii ettes; But life-like, human still; Types of a by-gone age of crime and lust; Or, graid historic forms, in -lwhom we view PRe-vivified, andl re-created stand, The brav-es -whlo strove through clou( td encompassed iways, Infinite trav-ail, and malign dispraise, To giuard, to save, to wreinchll from tyrant hordes, PBy tlhe pen's ~irt-ue, or the lordlier sword' s Ulnravished Liberty, The virtin huntress onl a virgin strand! I. thlrouglh wh-lose song your hlearts have spoken to-night, Souil-presenit with you, yet ami far away; Outside miy exile's home, I watch the s-Na-av Of the bow-ed pine-tops in the gloaminig gray, Casting across the melancholy lea, A tinit of browvner bliglht; Outsidle may exile's lhome, borne to and fro. I hear tlhe inarticulate mutrmuris flowv Of the faint wind-tidles breathing like a sea; \When. in clear vision, softly dawnvs onb (s if i contrast it o slo le.cay) (As if inl contrast w-ithl yon slows decay), The loveliest land that sliiiles benleatl the sky, The.oa,st-lcfnid of ou) 11 c y.ste~'.Itqly; I view the waters quivering; (iuaff thle breeze, AWliose briny raciness keeps an ~twl taste Of flavorous tropic sweets (perclhaIlce swel)t lhomyie, Across tlle flielreiing waste Of summer iw-aves, capped by tlhe Ariel foami), Froni Cuba's )perflmi(ed groves, and gal deln spiceries! Aelong the hlorizon-line a vapor swiims, PIale rose and amIethlyst, melting into goll; Up to our feet the fawninig ripples rioll((l. G:rlimmelr al instant, tremble, lap)::e". and die; BThe whlole rare sce1eC, its eveiy eleiment Eteherealizepd, transmurrted subtly, bleiit By iviewless ilo c lhlye ci. Into the glory of t gol( wl tooo(l, Brings potent exaltations, wliole I as ls a (A\ joyful youtlh tgaini), The sOe ohi-wslhite beahes by the Atladtec -Alftiii' Al-! iiot alone! the carkiing ciirse of ,-rillle Far frot i hicuat yet; flis bolwl hopes b ouns tib dued By tlhe long al-gtoisl of t (e w, -oes to be. .Midl iost hii s years, in isr ellow-lueartetf prime, Beside me stands our stalwart-stattired kSiw2tm's'! See! what a Viking's mieni! Half tawny loeks in careless im-asses (,,tti-l('( Over liis amiiple forelhead's massive dome r Eyes of b)ol(l outlook, that sometimes benea-tlh Thleir level-fronted brows, slhine laimi b(elt, deep, Witlh insl)ir-ation-s scarce aroused from sl(e(,I); -,is I I I (ll, tLn crve( Ituliness ot a i 0oulie Iliiottli. -Alinost vollupl)tuollus; hiiltiig of the solitll, Whliose stuis liigli stuinnier shed throughl all hiis veins: Blend(liug thle miildness of a cordial grace AWith stemler traits of his Perserker face, Fi nii-set as granite, laugltl, leo nine. ;Vliat then?' th(e spilit, of himi oWe Iourii alll fai woutlil lioior, girows 1lot (lime; oOn eartlh wxill live wiithl coiisuwiuiated toi] AVortliily w-roughlt, despite the hlot tur mlioil Of open enmiiiity, the secret guile, iThat iuole-like buirrowed('neatli tlhe fruitful soil Of his broad imental acres, but to shlow Nnarks of its crawling littleliess etl ee Eachl far-extend(le(d irowNOf those hale harvests,,litteriniig gold or g-reen! No p)inii Pirecisian hle! his fluent talk -ov-ed(l tliro all topics, vivifying all; :N-owN- (leftly raniging level plains of tliolUgllt, 'o si- k. anoii in metaplhysical deeps; AWlelince. )by caprice of strange transition ])I.Otlgrllt broughtniesae Outw-ard an(-[ upward, thle free cuLrrent soul'llti (leal summ1iiits, gatlhering in its course, Splendid niomeutilim and ililperious force, Till. (Ilown-ii it rushedl as miglity cataracts f al l, tlinfledI from gaunit iiounitaili steeps! And sfomgiewhere, sowretchede in tlet infi iiite space, Like all treoe s ouls by our Soul-Fatlher pr-ized, It dw(,ells.J o le e; i) bei l t(tl'ovl 4; No ghost p i ewildee e(l'isi(,st a " No mtan' a s L a lnd;" OtntlaO-ed and baler;i do Of fair i(leiitity's ree(deem,ing grace, Slhivering before its w-retclhe(d I)hantom self, Marred by Letheaii miioonsllinie-a pale elf, A passionless slhadowi, but in mind ai( lheart, The linortal creatiire's marvellous collll ter-par-t; Only exalted, nobler; (down on lls Gazing tliro' fathomliess etlhers lumii niiots; Watching tlie earth and earth-ways fromt afar, S~portiv-e he could be as a gamesomiie boy! lBvy hlieaveln! as'tw-ere but yesterday, I s ee His tall framiie quake w-ith throes of jolli ty: Hear his rich voice that owned a jovial tonle, Joceund( as Falstaff's own; And catch mioist glints of steel-blue eyes o ey r iii Si(lew-avs. bv tin-y rivultets of fuin! Clear COlgllS )t Vailtage,,- iii SOi1r[ dleatlhless star! Stl'-(CllLtl (I1VIlll Ieatlh vNa(lliislhe(l Ilate oil llate's onii clioseli grotull(l. 'rlhoigli gone, Iris art Tritniijpliaiit sp)anis t,hi. tlhreatening clouds of et; Its i-ilinl)owv lihes forever pulse and start, Steeped iii tlhe life-blood of the lItminai hieairt, nid(id wov(iii oil leavens beyond Timie's stoi-iriy bir(eathl. VI. LI)ICK EN q. AE,TIIINKTS the air Tlllrobs w-ithl the tollig, of liarimoiliots bells, 1[liing hy tlie lhands of spirits; every wh-liere W e feel the presenc(e of a soft (lespair Aind tlhrill to voices of div-inie farew-ells. Sweet Fancy lost, Wai(lderiug il (larkniess, now makes sil very imioani; AWhile Pathlos, pale, and( slla(lowyv, like a ghost, Solbs llpoln Itltiniois b)reast. that irollrrIls hini mIost, The wizard king who leaves tlhemn all alonie. Wana geiri tlhrong,t l From earth'l s four quarter,s hIurrying, lllOIIIlt anid imiar-t, Puire wood(la(nd peace, the city's (Tin ani-d wrong,., Eachl breatlingl low a fond fuinereal s011g, Each sadly bowed o'er that grand, sileint hieart. The children's tears Mingle witlh inanlhood(ls w\oe. thllat falls like rai:d Low lietl one h-lo tower ed abogae his peel's, vri) nIoanAl) TOTvL,oIt BEYOND) Us. At V ISIO)N ()F (1III1ISTMrAS IE,VE, 1878. A-,\s l ire witlil I watcll the fervid coals, oWlile thle clill lieavels wiitliont shline wanlly wh,Iiite, I wN-onider, friend! in whlat rare realhii of sollls, ]hf ail tlhe ul)prisiirg Clhristmias-ti(de to-niglit! I leave thle fire-place, lift the curtain's fol(l, Aaid peering past these shadowy win {lowv-b)ars, See tllroui{Il I)lroad rifts of ghostly clo(uds The pulsing pallor of pliairtasmial stars. PlLaontowd vs they seem, glilmpsed tlolugl tllo (cloud(led deep, Till tile winds cease, aidI (,lou(lanid's glastly glow i I VrI. - - - - 0 0 -- 7' 7~~~~~~~~~~ — - - - - - - -- 0 -. -*J - - - 0 - -. 7 -- - I -. 0 1- - - - - - I - 0 0 0 0 f 0 00 0 0 CI 4 * -- --- * -. * 0 -1 - - - 0 - -- - c 4 "I 2 ;z: 4 ;L q - , q. _r = , H - l I"q In -L z: -e C c = 2 7 LA LI16 I'(JihiIiS. At length death's signal sounds! From A weary eyes Pass thle pale phantoms of our earth and skies; The gray head droops; the museful lips are closed On life's vain questionlings and more vain replies! And, in grand t ruce witl' immortal ity, Lifts to song's fadeless heaven hiis star-like famne! How solemnly on luournful eyes The mnystic warning rose, While o'er the Singer's forehead lies A twilight of repose. Like soile gaunt oak wert thou, that lonely stands 'Mid fallen trunks in outworn desert lands; Still sound at core, with rhythmiic leaves that stir To soft swift touches of aerial hands. The twililght deepens into night, - That night of frozen breath, The rigor of whose Arctic blig,ht, We recognize as- death! Ahl long we v-iewed thee thus, forlornly free, In that dead grove the sole unravished tree; Lo! the dark axe lman snites! the oak lies lowV That town-ered in lonely calm o'er land and sea! But since beyond the polar ice May shine bright baths of balm; Past its grimn barriers' last device, A crystal-hearted calmn, - Thus, ice-bound Death that guards so well His far-off, secret goal, May clasp a peace ineffable, For soimie who reach his pole! X. My poet - is it thlus with thee, Beyond this twili,ght gray,This frozen blight, th is somnbre sea, Ah! hast thou found the Day? Lo! there hle lies, our Patriarch Poet, dead! The solemn ang,el of eternal peace Has waved a wand of mystery o'er hllis head, Touchled his strong heart, and bade his pulses cease. TIlE maiimed( a(d biroken warrior lay, By llis last foemiani broughlt to l)ay. Behold in marble quietude lie lies! Pallid anid cold, divorced from earthly breath, WAith tranquil brow, lax hands, and dreamless eyes, Yet tlhe closed lips w-ould seem to smile at death. No sounds o f b attlefrie l wser(, t trlleie — The diruin's deep bass, tlle tri-iitipet's blare. * I)uring the terrible yello)w fever season of 18e1, (General 1Ioo(d anId his wife (die at very nearly thle saame tiioe. They left a large famiily of childrei ullnprovid-(d for, unoder cir(We maystamices fwhich arouse(l the synmpathy of the public, nortli aild sotlth. At tlle Southll, a oo1si(lerable fuin d was stt>sequeotly raised( for their suppl)ot; wthile 1ortl erni philantlhropists, awe ui(lersta.i(l, adopted two of the children. 3'-)'-) Xi. TIIE POLE OF IDEATII. IN 31E-NIORY OF SII)NEY LANIEIZ, BPY-V —,-T II)E-AI)! Xii. Tlll,' I)EA,rji OF 11001-).* IVell i-iiav they sii-iile; for death, to such as lie, Brin-s purer fi-eedoi-ii, loftiei- thought and aini; .MIL'D17'ATIV E AND RELIGIOUS. No lines of swart battalions broke Inifutriate. thro' the sulphurous smoke. It whi s pered low, with smtilihnl mosuthl, I' She is not dead,- thy queenly South. But silence held the tainted room in k lominious hush, an awi-fu-l gloom, And since for oh er each liberal vein Lavished thy life, like vinitage rain, Save when, with feverish moan, he stirred, And dropped some faint, half-muttered word. And since for hler no galling curb Could bind thy patriot will superb. Or outlined in v-ague, shadowy phrase, The changefutl scenes of perished days! Yea! since for her thine all was spent, Unlmeasured, with a grand content, AWhat thoughts on his bewildered brain, Muist then have flashed their blinding pain! Soldier, thine orphaned ones shall rest, Serene, on her imperial breast. Her faithful arms shall be their fold, In summer's heat, in winter's cold; Thle past a nd future,s blent in one, - Regild chaos round life's setting sun. But miost his spirit's yearning gaze WAas fain to pierce the future's haze, And haply view what fate should find The tender loves he left behind. Ah! then the expiring hlero's fat e, Like Stephen's, glowed with rapturous grace. " O God! outworn, despondent, poor, I tarry at deatll's opening door, Mald missiles of a morbid mood, Hurled at his heart ill solitude, While subtlest ties of sacred birth Still bind iime to the lives of earth. No longer wounding, round it fell; Peace sweetened his supreme farewell! How ca7i I in calm courage die, Thrilled by the anguish of a cry For sure the harmonious hope was true, 0 South! he leaned his faith on you! I know from orphaned lips shall start Above a father's pulseless heart?" And in clear vision, ere hie (ied, Saw its pure promise justified. His eyes, by lingering languors kissed, Slhone like sad stars thro' autumn mist; AIEDITAY'IVE AND ELIGIO U,S. And all his being felt the stress Of helpless passion's bitterness. AWhen, from the fever-haunted room, The prescient hulsh, the dreary gloom, CHRIST ON E AIRTII. HAD we but lived in those mysterious days, When, a veiled God'mid unregenelate men, Christ calmly walked our' devious mortal ways, A blissful hope divinely stole O'er the vexed waters of his soul, Tluat sank as sank that stoirmy sea, ,Stbdltued by Christ in Galilee. 323 lvhen round the bursting NN-ine-press meet The Ionian harvesters' criinsoiied feet: And her proud beauty iiielt above Their weakness in majestic love! " 1. L1,4 7,'Ei POl'EMS. Crownled wAith grief's bitter irue in pla ch of bays. - Ah! had we lived but then: Lived to drink in with every wo(ndering )brieath, A consciousness beyonid all human ken, That clothled in flesh, as long concei-ved(I iii faitla, We viewed thle LJord of life and Lord of death, - A1ll! had we lived but then: To mark all Natture qickeniiiig where He tro(ld, Whether tlhro' golden field, or shadowy glen,a lWhile a strange sweetness breathed firom ii leaf and clocd, As thro' mnan's image they divined thleir God; - Ah! had we lived but then! Wild birds above him passed on reverent wing-, And savage sovereigns of dark d(iune or dein, Out stole to greet ilini witlh mlild ir-ll' muting, 5oft as a nieste(l dove's song in the spring - Ah! had we lived but then! At " peace: be still! " the stormi-wind ceased to roar, And the lulled waters seemied to si,gh ; alnenl! "' Ftar - the soutl's milghtier tempest surged no more, But a strange stillness fell on sea and shore; Ahi! had we lived but then! W'ith our' own ears to hear the words He said, (Trheir music pond(leing o'er and o'er again!) The wine of wis(doi (Iqaff from wisdoan's head, View tlohe la Ne le.ltp, alnd watch the up r-isilig (dead: Ah! ahad we lived )clit t hen! The world g orows oldi. Faithl, once a ihlollntaice stoie asli, Now cirawls polluted dowviin a poisonous fen; Tlhe Bethllelien star lhatlh lost its imiorning beamii; Thy face, (lear (Cllrist, -wanes like;I wasted d(,re,,tn, Elow changed, how cold since tlhen. Ah!'tis otii sor-did lives whose promise fails: These laniguiorioIIs lives of low, lost, aimless imeni; T11Iio' miiockery's IImist o011 lor(d's puIIIe auireole pales, Yet ten(lerer than the Syriain niglitiii gales, His voice sounids )totc as them. 1IARVEST-IIO110NE. O'E;i all the fragranit land( this harvest (lay, What bounteous slheaves are garnered, ear aili( bla(le! Whlethler the heavens be golden-glad(l, or gray, - -iid the swart laborers toil in sun or shade: Like some fair iiotlier in tine's iiorinling beailis, Wllend morital beauty lured iiimmortal eyes, Here, Eartlh lies smiiling in ethereal di reains, While her (leep-bosoie(l breatlhings fall and rise! TlThroutgli hlialf-(losed li(s sl,e views o'er lawI n (Ial ](ea Rich-friuite(I trees. vast piles of glim mer ngorin 3,-14 II. - liii IIIiI1III~''i~Iil - - - ____________ Ii``, - - -- ------ ----- -`- I - ~~~-;~ - - -,,,~~,:l,:I;,:',ii,~',:,~,~','lI'iI Ii,,, = -~- -—``-,`- -~~ — \\~ -`,::,`i',~I I, -- ~-~` ~i~',i'\' - ``I' -~ =~~~~~~~~~~~(~,,, I',;,,'~~ - -- = -=~"` — =-`{\,`{{?`}?`){?`1?llllf'{ -`7' -," - - i~,'~,,'~,j,''~~'~~' }{`[I __ ~=~~~~~~`D;~~~{';'1i~.~1'1' ~~` t;~~ffi~~~)'\~~{{{\1? ~~~ti,~{{{{~{}:\i!{'{\i\ii{II'~''''iI~\{~' I`~~I tUDI`I - ____`it 7'' 7' \~)~~~fttttiIttt'~~tt - __ ____ -,I t~tttt~,~, ~~-M~-~-t~#~~-;~'-t```tf F;`t!,``~`` - - - -- I':,`;"{~I'`71' ~~,(~`);t __,`,, -~ ~ -`1 Ft~t;; t ___________ -` I' ____ ______ I',`f[ t,F,~,,,`F' ___` "` t'`I - =- ~~-=- -;`,t,````````t' ~t' -. -` — -`7 F'''` - — ~-~ —,`F```I'''' - ~~~=-F.;~I~~ ~,;F?~:{,~F ~~,FF;~Y%4M -~,;~`;F`I',`` - — ~ —`````` F,`~`;`,~~~~ - - I' -— 777,, 77-F',t~!iIF~;;;Ft,F;~;FFtFF~F;(F,t;F~,;FF~I,FFJ ___________________________ - I,\\~~ I\:{i}\ft(\i;\l\F{,~I,,\!;;FiF, t''F{;;(,~,t;`;~FFF,~~7~'(~:;)?;; —~, t,'```I``F,`;;~``t';'t~~'; F t~'~' F`I ___________ IIIi(IIIF\I,~I\F\t f ti(i,~~'~i;~~~$\'t,~,{~~~~,;t";F!F;:t;t IF, F'''; "I,~,, F ________ - ~7F}F~~{~F~ti\iI'\FI\IF\I)(,t{I1~!ii' I;I{``~`F;'~, FtFtFFI FIFiF 1;'I,FI';;``,;`F ________ __________________________________ F' IF ~~~777#~?77777#~~77 I; i'F{\;77iFt\f{:FtFji,,~,~ffi77~{~{~,;,t7i,l~~IFI\fFFlF)F\;\\IFFF{FFi ~F~FFFtFti \\`I;FtFI}F}tFIf'~,I~j F F _______ _____________ -~~:~~t,,;'U)'~~ ~~~~7 ~~7~777U7~~77777-Fi,FIjfF'iFiF(FII'IF,{F,~FF, ~F;~IF,i~,,F,~tF~F,F'}i~~FI'FF~Fit, F, -~ -~ —~ —-— ThD —~ — -7777~#~~~;- ~` II';F Fl IF' F -~ -- - — ~~-~` F F, I`, F — ~ —-7"77 — —— __ — - F ______ ____ _ _ _ I MEDITATIVE AND RELIGIOUS. Brimiiied with immaculate sheaves of heavenly grain, And flushed with fruitage of unfading gold! And from the mountain boundaries to the sea, Hears the low rumbling of the loaded wain. A magical murmur born of ocean-deeps, Blent with the pine-tree's lingering imusic thrills Up the brown pastures to the trackless steeps, And ancient caverns of the lonely hills. RECONCILIATION. [From the South to the North. Written in view of the new year.] LAND of the North! I waft to thee The South's warm benedicite! Thou camest when all was grief and pain, The feverish blood, the tortured brain, When throu gh hot veins deliriu m ran, Thou cam' st, the true Samaritan! Far-flashing insects flicker thlro' the grass; The humble-bee with burly bass drones by; -,far the plover pipes; the curlews pass Ill long lithe lines across the violet sky: The charm of ruthful grace divine, The golden oil and perfumed wine, Have soothed far deeper wounds than those Which harmed the body's hale repose; On anguished souls dropped purely calm, And sweet as Mlary's "spikenard" balm! A mellowed radiance rings creation round; Plenty and peace the auspicious season bless; The full year pauses proudly, clothed and crowned In consummation of high qteenliness: Lo! now o'er all the world are drawn Clear splendors of the New-year's dawn! 0 North! 0 South! let warfare cease! Hark! to that prince whose name is peace! And ere time's new-born child departs, Be joined in hands and joined in hearts! All nature seems to throb with rhythmic fires; Dawns rise harmonious; splendid sun sets roll Down to the chorus of invisible choirs Strange winds in tune with Earth's victorious soul! Once wedded thus, O North! O South! Should discord ope her Marah mouth, Smite the foul lips so basely fain To outpour hate's salt tides again: Long raged the storm, long lower ed the n ight, - 0 faction, fly our morning light! Thus, on the verge of winter's dreary rest, Nature rejoices in rare pomps of power; To breeze and sunbeam bares her prodi gal breast, And robes in purple her last shadowless hour. A VERNAL IIYMN. THE fresh spring burgeons into bloom And Earth with all her vernal charms Lies like a queenly bride enclasped Within her heavenly bridegroom's arms; Ah, when Life's autumn nears the eter nal main, WIay the heart's granary its rich depths unfold, - I 325 Ill. IV. POEMS. iPealin, o'er life's tt mnuiiltuous van Tiale keynote of tlle hlopes of Imai1, AWhliile o' ier thlee flames tlhroughl gain, tlhroughl loss, That fadeless synmbol of the crioss. Tle storiinis that raved lhav-e sunk to peace; Free(d rivulets weave a blitliesoiiie lay, Ani(l l)lissfutl Nature softly siIngs l'r lut(tinigs of her perfect day! Meanilhile thlere's not a breeze that tlhr-ills Leaf. b1)d. and flo-wer wA-ithl genial kiss, - A-hichl does not )breathe thy mystic hlope, ()h. soul of Palingenesis: - SOI,LIT-)DE; IN YO\-)I'TII NI) AG(E. (Glance w-llere w-e may, the symnbols rise ()f loftier loves and lives to be: - 7'hi s mi(rcllois si i -ti,ie soe,)is to 7'b,,hiits) Th1e s~i~'t~s ot im r17letality.' IN youtlh we shrink fron solit su(le! Its quiet w ays we slhun, Because our hearts are fain to daance With others' in the sun;Life's nectar bubl)ling brightly up, O'erflowetlh toward our brother's cup. In ag,e we shrink fromn solitude, Because our God is tlhere; AInd somiething in his "still. sliall voice" I)otli bid ouri souls " beNwaie! " VWho flies from God anil conscience, can Blut seek his fellow-siinner - nian! CII'ISTIAXN- EXALITATION. 0 (HIIISTIAN soldier! sliouldst t1hou rue Life and its toils, as others doWAVear a sad frown from day to dlay, And galrb tlhy soul iii llodden-gray? O rather slhouldst tlhoui smile elate, Unquelled by sin. uLnaNwed( by hlate,Tlhv loftv-stattiretl spirit dress In moods of roval stateliness;For say, whlat service so divine :s thlat, ah! -warrior hleart, of thine, Higl pleth ged alike throfgl gain or loss, To tlhy brave banner of the cross? AVEW look withl scoiii oi0 1'etei's thriice told lie; Boldly we say, " Goo(d biotlier! you nor I, So near the sa(cre(d I,or(, the Clrist, igd(lee(l, Ilad (lare(d Illis llamie an(d miiar-vellous grace deniy." Olh, futile boast! ()li, haughty lips, be dumb! Unhileralded by boisterous trump or drl1lln?, How oft'mid sileit eves and midnight climies, Vainly to us our pleading Lord hath Yea! wh-liat lhast thou to do with gloom, Whose footsteps spurn the conquered tomnb? Thou that through dreariest dark can see A slllilinig immiiiior-tality?' come - Leave to the mournful doubting slave, Who deems the whole wan earth a grave, Across whose dusky mounds forlorn Can rise no resurrection morn, The soiiibre mien, the funeral weed, That darkly match so dark a creed; But be tliy bro- turned bright on all, Thy voice like some clear clarion call, Knocked at our hearts, and striven to enter ther-e; But we poor slaves of mortal sin and care, Sunk in deep slothl, or bound by spiritual sleep, Heard not the voice divine, the tender prayer! 326 VI. A-. Vil. I)EiNll,. J[E)JI 7Y VE AND RELI1GIOUS. Al! wA-ell for Ius if somie late spring-tide hour Tl IPI EIO I FaitlI still iiay bl)ring, wMith blended shine and slhowerj; If tlhrough warinii tears a late remiorse Ou akn slhed, Ottur wN-akeiie(n souils ptut forth onze lheav-enly flow er! '1I1' II'IIE ME IIOURl. TIIEIll,; comiies aii lhouir whlen all life's joys aii(I painis To ouri raise(d v-isioni seemii Buit as the flickering plhantomi that areimaiins Of somne dead midnight dreaimi! Thllere comies an hlour wlieii earthl recedes so far, Its wasted waverinig r ay Wanes to the ghostly pallor of a star Merged in the milky way. LI,1-.() ()F SUnMtSSION. BEN- YO-SSUF. bound to Mecca, day by t dcay Toiled bl)ravely o'er the desert's fiery w-ay. Till its hot sands and flint-sown courses soIre Pressed on the broidered sandals which he w ore, Scorclhing and cutting! at the last they fell Looselv abroad; -he seemed to fare tllirough hell, So blistering now, the flanie-hlued rocks and dust: - '0 miglhty Allah! " cried lie, "art tlou just, To let thy faithful pilgrim, serving thee, Pass o —nward, thus, in anileless agonyy?" WAithl bitter thoughts and half-rebellious mind He left. at length, the desert sands behind, And still in that dark telmiper-far fromi graceWenlt ilwhere his brethren miidst the holy place Kneeled, by the Caatba's sanctity en thralled: - Lo! there hlie imarked a smitten wretch wiho crawle-d Nearer the shrine, on bleeding hands and knees, Yet his deep eyes were stars of prayer and peace; - And ah, how Youssuf's heart remorse ful beat, To find hle lacked not only shoes, but feet! Set onr the sliarip, sheer stimnit that divides Ihnmiiortal truth fromn miiortal fantasie; AWe hear the m-ioaninig of tiine's miiuffled ti(les In mneasureless distance (lie! Past passio ns-ploves, alibitions and despairs, Across the expiring swell Send thlro' voicl space, like wafts of Letheanl airs, Vague *voices of farewell. A CIIRISTMIA.S I,YRIC. THO' the Earth with age seemns whitened, And her tresses hoary and old No longer are flushed and brightened By glinitings of brown or gold, A voice from the Syrian highllands, O'er waters that flasih and stir, By the belts of their tropic islands, Still singetlh of joy to her! A song which the centuries h allow! Though softer tlhan April rain That soweth oI1 field and fallow, A spell that shall rise in grain 1)27 IX. Vill. All, tlieli I fi-oiii life's lolig-haunted di,eaii-i we part, P,ouse(i as a eliild We feel tlie, pulses of the eternal lieart Tlii-ob tlii-o' the etei-iial iiiorii. X. LATER POEIMIS. Perchance through paths unknown, forlorn, I still may reach an orient morn; To rest when Easter breezes stir, Around the sacred sepulchre. Yet deep as the sea-strain chanted On the fliuctuant ocean-lyre, By the magical west-wind haunted, WAith the pulse of his soul on fire! A promise to lift the lowly, To weed the soul of its tares, And change into harmonies holey The discord of fierce despairs: A -glory of high Evangels, Of rhythmiical storms and calms; All hail to the voices of angels, Heard over the starlit palms! PEXNUEI,. NEAR Jabbok Ford. endued with sacred might, The patriarch strove with onze that silent callme, Obscurely limined( against the twilight falaneStrove thro' slow watches of the marvel lous night! A l-hymn of hope to the ages, The music of deathless trust, No frenzy of mortal rages Can darken with doubt or dust; A rapture of high evangels, But centred in sacred calms! Ah! still the c horus of angels Thrills over the Bethlehem palms! " UigircZ thiie armTs, for lo!'tis lio)r)lii)il lig/ h t, " Spake the weird stranger! - "itnacy, b?tt gxra'~t the claim, Macdle good( thro' strife divine, and bless T h ayt inf ~ oe, 'Ere yet thou goest from doubtful clasp and sight!" Still heralds the day-spring tender, That never can mnelt or close, Till the noon of its deepening splendor Out-blooms, like a mystic rose, Whose petals are rays supernal Of love that iath all sufficed,Andl whose heart is the grace eternal, Of the fathomless peace of Christ! Thus Jacob, in the slowly ebbing swell Of power and passion, - yearning still to mark That wrestler's face between the dawn and dark: XI. Again, "wilt thou not bless mie?". yea! and yea! " Dropped a still voice, what time tlhe new-born day Haloed an angel's head at Penuel! THE PILGPRIMN. THROUGHI deepening dust and dreary dearth I walk the darkened wastes of earth, A weary pilgrim sore beset, By hopeless griefs and stern regret. With broken staff and tattered shoon I wander slow from dawn to noon - From arid noon till dew-imnpearled, Pale twilight steals across the world. SHE hath no beauty in her face, Unless the chastened sweetness there And meek long-suffering yield a grace To make her mournful features fair. Yet sometimes through dim evening calms I catch the gleam of distant palms; And hear, far off, a mystic sea Divine as waves on Galilee. Shunned by the gay, the proud, the young, She roams through dim unsheltered ways; 328 Xii. Xiii. PATIENCE. MEDIJA]'IVLE AND RELIGIOUS. Nor lover' s vow, nor flatterer's tongue, Brings m1usic to her sober days. So falls that tranquil season, Dew-like, on soul and sight, Faith's silvery star rise blended With imieinory's sunset light, Wherein life pauses softly Along the verge of night. At best, her skies are clouded o'er, An(l oft she fronts the stinging sleet, Or feels on some tempestuous shore Thle storm-waves lash her naked feet! Where'er she strays, or musing stands By lonesome beach, by turbulent ma rt, - W\e see her pale, lhalf-tremulous hands Crossed lhumiibly o'er her aching heart. SEVEN weary centuries ere our star-like Christ Rose on the clouded heavens of mortal faith Gautama came, the stern high priest of death, Oblivion's sombre, dark evangelist. Millions of souls hathli this dread creed enticed To wander lost through realns of bale ful breath, Ghonl-lhaunted, rife with shapes of sin and scath, Monstrous, yet dim, as births of mid nighlt inist: WAithin, a secret pain she bears, A pain de too deep to feel the balm An April spirit finds in tears, Alas! all cureless griefs are calm'! Yet in her passionless strength supreme, Despair beyond he r pathway flies, Aw-ed by the softly steadfast beam Of sad, but heaven-enamored eyes! Who pause to greet her, vaguely seem Touched by finse wafts of holier air, As those who in some mystic dream Talk with the angels unaware! All life, he taught, hath been, all life must be Accursed! the gift of demons! All delight Lies at the far-off goal of pulseless peace. THE LATTER PEACE. AVE have passed the noonday summit, WAVe have left the noonday heat, Aud down the hillside slowly Descend our weary feet. Yet the evening airs are balmy, And the evening shadows sweet. NOTE. -We yield to none in our cordial admiration of Mr. Edwin Arijold's "Light of Asia;" but we regard that most eloquent, pathetic, and beautiful poem, chiefly as a poem - and by no means as an absolutely authoritative presentation of Gautama's creed, or its tendencies. It even seems to us that Mr. Arnold is himself somewhat in the dark as to these matters. The "prodigious controversy among the erudite in regard to Gautama's doctrines," Mr. Arnold confronts chiefly by his own firm conviction that " a third of mankind would never have been brought to believe in blank abstractions, or in nothingness, as the crown of Being!" A,t contraire, we cannot fairly ignore the opinion of those Orientalists who maintain, that "Nirvaina" is essentially nothingness; and moreover, that the idea involved in it has a peculiar cliarni for the Hindoo mind. Like th e tender twilight weather When the toil of day is done, And w-e feel the bliss of quiet Our constant hearts have wonWhen the vesper planet blushes, Kissed by the dying sun. 329 XV. GAUTAMA. XIV. Out- suiilmer's latest roses Lav ivithered Ion- a,o; And even the flowers of autumn Scarce keep their mellowed glow. Yet a peaceful season woos us Ere the time of storms and snow. LATIER POE11S. rHer pulse beats low; through all her veins Scarce can the sluggtish life-blood start; What feeble, faltering heat sustains Tlhe half-n-ulinbed forces of her heart! " Pray-, sig,hed he, " that this breath of men shall cease; Our hell is earth, our heaven eternal night; Our only godhead vague Nonentity!" XVI. Above, despondent eyes she lifts, To view the sun-ray's dubious birth; Beneath she imiarks the stoI ri-piled drifts About a waste bewildering earth! CIItRIST. THE soul's physician thus the soul would kill, The soul's high priest its heaven bound pinions stay, Bring from fresh beauty chaos, night fromn day, Despair from trust, from all good prom ise ill; The outworn heart and sickened senses still Must shroud heaven's life in fogs of foul decay, Veil the swift angel, love, and hide the lay Born of God's smile with masks of mor bid will: Ah, stricken MIother! hast thou lost All memory of the germp s that rest Untouched by tempest, railn, or frost, Shrined in thine own immortal breast? Bend, bend thine ear; yea, bend and hear, - Despite the winds' and woodlands' strife, - Deep in Earth's b)osomn, faint and clear, The far-off murmurous hints of life: The sound of waves in whispering flow; Of seeds that stir in dreams of light, Whose sweetness mocks the shrouded snow, Whose radiance smiles at death and night; But Truth, and Truth's great Master cannot die; While Love, the seraph, free of wings and eyes, Upsweeps the realm of calm immensity. A thousand times our buried Christ shall rise In prayerful souls to hush their anguished sighs, And dawn, not darkness, rule o'er earth and sky. So, Christian spirit! wrapt in grief, Beneath tlhy iiisery's frozen sod, Love works, to burst in flower and leaf, On some fair spring-dawn fresh from God! TI-IE TIIREE URIINS. LIST to an Arab parable, wherein The beauty of the Orient fancy shrines A star-like truth, the iconoclastic West Is blind to see, its shrewd material vision Bent over on the foulest soils of earth, If only gold may gild them! Hear and learn! O AVEARY winds! 0 winds that wail! O'er desert fields and ice-locked rills! 0 heavens that brood so cold and pale Above the frozen hNorland hills! Nature is like some sorrowing soul, Robed in a garb of dreariest woe;She cannot see her vernal goal Through ghostly veils of mist and snow: - Niniroud, the king to whom his four score ye ar s Had brought a wisdom pure as his white locks, 330 I XVIII. XVII. A'NVI--TER HYNlN. ()'~r d(2se,.t licI(ts audIV-1)Ct rills."' I MEDITATIVE AND RELIGIOUS. Dead centuries since, rose from its shat tered bulk Pungent, and yet so light the feeblest puff Of failing wind hath shorn and scattered them Into vague air. One vase alone re mained, Which the third son unsealing, found therein, Deep-graven, glittering like a planet keen, Thro' gulfs of envious darkness the sole nalne Of GOD,- " wvlhlich name, O! princes," said the king, " Doth sanctify yon vase of common earth Above all precious metals sought of nmen, Since but one letter of that sacred three, Outweighs all worlds, from the mild star of eve, Shining on love, to those mysterious orbs, Which gird the pathway of the Pleiades." One morn comimanded his three sons to grace His presence chamlber; there in front of each A mighty urln, sealed with a mystic seal, Was duly set —the one of burnished gold. Blazed like an Aulgust noon —of amber fair Tile other —liut the third (dull as a clolud( Seen'g;aist the bright flash of a distant A,,a,\ e Or'twixt the glittering tree-tops), seemiied, in forin, A rugge(d imlould wrouglht fromn the coin o111011 earth. Choose thlou. my eldest," said the king, deep-breathed, Choose thou amongst these urns, the u'n-i whicll seems To thee miost precious," - whereupon lie chose The Vase of Gold, which bore in jewelled flaimie. Clear leaping. the word "EMPIIRE," - opened it. And found beneath a deadly, vaporous fuimi-e, (Which on the instant sickened heart and sense), - Nought butt a bubbling tide of vital blood, Hot, as appeared, that moment from tile veins Of mLrdere(l manhood. The fair amber vase, WAith "GLOP,Y" written on it- "this for mie " Exclaimed the second prince, with eager eyes, And feverish hands clasping his treasure close,Too close, alas! for as he spake, the urn Crashed on his breast, and bruised and tortured it, And a rare lust, the ashes of great men, ON THE DECLINE OF FAITH. As in some h alf-burned forest, one by one, We catch far echoes on the doleful breeze, Born of the downfall of its ruined trees; While even thro' those which stand, slow shudderings run. As if Fate's ruthless hand were laid thereon; So, in a world sore-smitten by foul dis ease, -That Pest, called Doubt - we mark by slow degrees. The fall of many a faith that wooed the sun: Some, with low sigh of parting bough, or leaf, 331 (And spotless tlie\l as siio-,i- on Caucastis!) xix. LATER POEMS. Strain, quivering downward to the ab horred ground; Some totter feebly, groaning toward their doom; While some broad-centuried growths of old Belief, Sapped as by fire, defeatured, charred, discrowned, Fall with a loud crash, and long reverber ant boom! Thus, fated hour by hour, more gaunt and bare, Gloom the wan spaces, whence, a power to bless, Up burgeoned once, in grace or stateli ness, Some creed divine, offspring of light and air; What then? and must we yield to blank despair, Beholding God Himself wax less and less, Paled in the skeptical storm-cloud's whirl and stress, Fill all is lost- love, reverence, hope, and prayer. O man! when faith succumbs, and reason reels, Before some impious, bold iconoclast, Turn to thy heart that reasonts not, but feels; Creeds chan,e! shrines perish! still (her instinct saith), Still the so.ts lires, the soul must conquer Death. Hol(l fost to God, celd God will hold thee fctst! Though all my life be shattered by thine ire, The mystic whir lwind of thy will a ug ust, Still, from the din, the d earknes s a nd the fire, I lift my song of trust! Tho' foes assail me! yea, within, with out! Har row my he art, and hurl its joys in dust, No forceful fear, nor fraud of treacherous doubt, Disarms my bucklered trust! Though my lost years be wrapped in Arctic cloud, And Grief on me hath wreaked her ruthless lust, Still, like an angel's face above a shroud Smiles my celestial trust! Tho', Lord! thou wear' st a mask of hate ('twould seem), And for a time, I think —as mortals must - That mask shall melt, as melts a night mare dream, Before my Orient trust! Yea! tho' Thou slay me, and supine, I cower, Heart-pierced and bleeding from the fiery thrust,I know there bides in heaven a glorious hour, To crown my sacred trust! "A LITTLE WIIILE I FAIN WOULD LINGER YET." A LITTLE while (my life is almost set!) I fain would pause along the downward way, yMusing an hour in this sad sunset ray, While, Sweet! our eyes with tender tears are wet; A little hour I fain would linger yet. TIIE ULTIMATE TRUST. THOUGH in the wine-press of thy wrath divine, My crushed hopes droop, like crude and worthless must, T hat love and mercy, Father! still are thine, With reverent soul, I trust! 3 I'D 2 XXI. XX. MEDITAVTiVET AND PELIGIOUS. A little wIlile I fai n woutld linger yet, All for love's sake, for love thlat cannot tire; Tlhoughl fervid youth be dead, with youthl's desire, AnL hol)e hlas faded to a vague re- gret, A little wh-ile I fain would linger yet. A. little wIlile I fain would linger here: Behold! who knows what strange, llvsterious bars Tr-ixt souls that love, may rise in otller stars? Nor can love deem the face of death is fair; A little while I still would linger here. A little whlile I yearli to hold thee fast, Hanld locked in hand, and loyal heart to heart; (O pitying Cllrist! those woeful words, ' T~ l~l~ p t! ") Fo ere the darkness fall, the light be past, A little while I fain would hold thee fast. A little while, when nighlt and twilight meet; Behind, our broken years; before, the deep WAeird wonder of the last unfat hliomed sleep. A little while I still would clasp thee, Sweet; A little n-while, when night and twilight meet. A little wi-lile I fain would linger here; B}ehold! who knows what soul-divid ing bars Eartll's faithful loves may part in other stars? Nori can love deem the face of death is fair: A little while I still would linger here. TWVILIGIIT MONOLOGUE. CAN it be that the glory of manhood has passed, That its purpose, its passion, its might, Have all paled witlh the fervor that fed them at last, As the twilight comes down witlh the night? Can it be I lhav e lived, dreamed, and labored in vain That above me, uncon qulered and broight, Tlhe proud goa l I d had a imed at is taunt 11g my paini, As tOe twilight comes down with the night? Can it be thlat my hopes, which seeyed noble and fai-, WAere predestine d to mildew, and blight? Ah! sad disenchantment! that bids me beware Of a twilight wlicl heral ds the night! The lad days, te brave years that were lusty and long How they facle on vague memory's sight! And tlheir joys are like eclhoes of jubl-)i lant song, As the twilight comes down with the night! All the past is o'eirshadlowed, the present is dim, And could earth's fairest future re quite The worn spirit that swoons, the racked senses that swim, In this dread of the twilight and night? There is dew on my raiment; the sea winds wail low, As lost birds, wafted wave-ward in flighlt, 333 XXII. LAI P,R POEMS. And all Nature grows cold, as my heart i its -woe, At hle advent of twilighlt and nighlt! Or bright will summer, or lhale winter's crown Press oin her brows in sleep; So nigli the dlawn of somie new, ]narvel lous birtli, I'd look to heaveni, still clasped in arms of earth! Fromi the realm of dead sunset scarce darkened as yet Over hills inist-enslirouded and white, A deep sighl of ineffable, miournfuil regret, Seeiiims exhaled'twixt the twilight and nlight! I pray you, when the shadow of death Irawvs inear, Give, give mne freedom for my last, faint breatlh; Beneathl God's liberal heaven I could not fear, His merciful winds woul(l dry ]ny latest tear, Htis suinshine soften deatlh, And some fair slheds of our (lear earth's delight Cling rotund( the spirit in hler upward flight. O! tlhou e ei.ts of art! I lhave w-or slil)ped an,d blessed; O! tlhou soul of all beauty and lighlt! Lift iie up in thine arims, give miie w-arimthl from thly breast. Ere the twilight be merged in the nighlt! Let me draw- from thy bosol milractulouis b)reatlh. And for once, on sonlg's uppermost height, I may clhant to the nations such music in death As slall ]ock at the twiliglt and night! A saiO,Nr's gleam, a hint of sunnier wN-eatller, Borne fromi the storii-clouds and the Iimists of fate; Dawned(l, with a tender " Peradventure" hithler, A soft "Perchance it is not yet too late! " I PRAY- vOu, w-hen the shadlow- of death draw-s nigh, To bear me out beneatlh the lnmeasured heaven; I fain would hear the pine-trees' sluim berous sigh, And watch the cloud flotillas drifted hig13,trtrelig By slow, soft breezes driven Due south, perchance toward realms of tropic balms, And the warm fragrance of the Syrian palms. And so a transient omen magnifying, Myy soul would faion pass brightefied, unto thine; But to my half-forlmed tlhought comes trutlh replying: "No life m iouints backward from its wani decline." Would'st tlhou expect, drear winter, aslhen, sobel', To bhun withl blushes of a spring-tide. noon? Would'st tlhou expect the hectic-cheeked Octobe ir To catcl tlhe virginal freshness of yoting June? I pray youi. when the shadow of death comnes down, Oh! lay mne close to nature's pulses deep, Whether her breast with autumn tints be browvn, I 334 XXIV. FINIS. XXIII. TIIE SH-KDOW OF I)E-kTI1. ME1)IiA -i-ITT AND lt'ELJ(GIOU,$.', All iitortal liv,es lkt the veai-'s seasoits V\-i( tlieit (leatli looii~ that pitiless gi-iii en-el I)eceiiiber. P~as froiio tlei(,i MNav (laivi aii( rare I~riiigiilg col (1 teai-,,, a win-idinig shieet Stillle'.e hoI)IO0. like siioNN-, I)oi~-ii to tlie (layv w-itet' auttilln iwiin(ls Last, a car~ve(l stoiie, NiIt eli I)i.(s thle thevi ~~~~~~~~~~~woild reiiieiithei Life's latest sli(-aN(e to strewi thiein Onie of its cotiittless iii-riatis sle,eps be nlear a toili). low. " tNl thou,,Iits a-e, watid(eri-iia )ii the vei-,e, of (Tlreaiis, AN-iile lowAer, feeb~ler, ttit the fiesd \ \ V'. T11E Silk])Ol\" ()-N Tl i tiotirufftl influence chills myi~ soul -Alv tliotiglits are~ wadi-ini-ig (oit thev'e to-ni~~~~~~l~~t t) ~~~of dreau~tls, I w\Nat(-Ii tlie (-,xpiriiig flam-ies that fadle -Alist-ladeii, gray, and( suonthrie as t anil( fall. pall, F'rom wichiil oiitleap vaguLe shafts of AN'liile low,Ner, feebler-, flit hefilresiule rrw Iltilit. gias Pursucil( ~ sl-)y ectral shadows oin thei Vuid (laik(,i~ those (juaiii shadows oil ivall. flu I( I.l 0 -1 — -. 0 0 0 0 - 0 _ 0 0 0 0 - 0 0 - 0 0 - - 0 0 -. - - 0 - - -. 0 0 0 - 0 7 I 0 0 0 0 --- -- 0 1 p - 0 0 0 0 00 I 0 - 0 - -. 4 - 0 A 0 - - 0 0 0 0 p 0 - 0 - - - -- 0 0 - 0 - —. 0 - 0 - -p - - 0 0 0 p p 0 P j - 0 p 0 - - 0 -p 0 0 - 0 - - 0 0 0 f p 0 0 CD IMEDITATIVE AND RELIGIOUS. Once more I see deep tears in tender eyes; And all my soul melts in me, fondly drawn Back to youth's love and youth's Arca dian dawl! I've done with all beneath the stars, O w-orldl! so wanly fleeting! How- long against time's ruthless bars Have the soul's wings been beating, Till even the soul but yearns for sleep, Calm rest for fevered riot - The sacred sleep, the shadows deep, Of death's majestic quiet! XXVIII. THE RIFT WITHIN TIIE LUTE. A TINY rift within the lute TMay sometimes make the music mute! By slow degrees, the rift grows wide, By slow degrees, the tender tideHarmonious once —of loving thought Becomes with harsher measures fraught, Until the heart's Arcadian breath Lapses thro' discord into death! LIKE a worn wind-hlarp on a barren lea, Unlstirred by subtle breathings of the sea, Though sweet south-breezes swell the fioodtide's flow, The lyric power in this worn heart of mine Droops in the twilight of life's wan decline, While the loosed chords of song grown lax and low, Are dumb to all the heavenly airs that blowv! XXIX. IN HARBOR. I THINK it is over, over, I think it is over at last, Voices of foemian and lover, The sweet and the bitter have passed: - Life, like a telnpest of ocean Hath outblown its ultimate blast: There's but a faint sobbing sea-ward While tile caln of the tide deepens lee war d, And behold! like the welcomning quiver Of heart-pulses throbbed thro' the river, Those lights in the harbor at last, The heavenly harbor at last! Only, sometimes along each shattered string I hear the ghost of Memory murmiur ing Old strains, as half in sadness half in scorn, So faint, so far, they scarcely pass the bound 'TwNixt sullen silence and ethereal sound, - Mere wraiths of murmurous tone, that di e forlor n Ere yet we deem those faltering notes are born! I feel it is over! over! For the winds and the waters surcease; Ah!- few were the days of the rover That smiled in the beauty of peace! And distant and dimn was the omen That hinted redress or release: - From the ravage of life, and its riot What marvel I yearn for the quiet Which bides in the harbor at last? For the lights with their welcoming qu iver That through the sanctified river Which girdles the harbor at last, This heavenly harbor at last? So, smitten chords, sink, wane, and pass away! Yet have ye made soft music in your day On many a sea-swept strand or breezy lawn. Once more I hear that yearning music rise; I i I 337 XXVII. THE BPOKE —N- CITORDS. LATERP POLEMS. I 1cnotc it is over, over, I know it is over at last! Down sail! the sheathed anchor uncover, For the stress of the voyage has passed: Life, like a tempest of ocean Ilathli outbreathlied its ultimate blast: There's but a faint sobbing sea-ward, Whlile the calm of the tide deepens lee ward; And behold! like the welcoming quiver Of hleart-pulses throbbed thro' the river, Those lights in the harbor at last, Thie heavenly harbor at last! Though I be dead, earth's fragrant white and red Here in spring roses met, MIay to strange spiritual senses bring the balns Of tender memory and divine regret, Yea! even to ile- though dead! ANIIEN I am gonle, what alien steps shall tread This flo-wery garden-close? Whlat alien hands shall pluck the violets sweet, Or gather the rich petals of the rose, Whlieln I — drear thought! - amn dead? Though I be dead, with faded hands and head Laid in uiibreatlhing restDear cottage roof! thou still mayst lure me back, Amnong the unconscious living a wan guest, Veiled, as Fate veils the dead: AVWhen I am gone, toward doubtful dark nless led, AWliat voices, false or true, Shlall echo round these old, familiar hiallnts 3[y happiest days of tranquil manhood knew, te ea All me! whlen I amn dead? A guest of shadowy frame, ethereal trea(l, Amongst them, yet apartA sombre mystery! in whose bosom throb The faint, slow pulses of its phantom heart, Ah, heaven! not wholly dead! AW~lhen I am gone, what museful eyes instead Of these dimmed eyes of mine, Beneath yon trellised porch shiall mark thro' heaven, On cloudless eves the summer sunsets sline, WAhen 1, alas! am dead? DEAR mother, take me to thy breast! I have no other place of rest In all this weary world of men: Al! fold me in thy love again, Sweet mother; clasp me to thy breast! Wlhen I am gone, and all is done and said, Onic life hlead wrought below'Mlid these fair scenes whlat other souls shall tlhrill, I I 338 In turn, to love aiid a-nguish, joy and woe Dear Christ 1. when I am dead? Thou-h I be dead, percliance when Spring has shed Her gentlest influence round - Here, where love rei,iied, my ghostly feet may tread The old accustomed I)atlis without a sound, - Perchance - when I aiu dead!. XXX. FOPEC-A-STI-NGS. XXXI. APPEAL TO NATUIIE OF TIIE SOLI TAIZY 11EAPT. POEMS FlORP SPECIAL OCCASIONS. Fromn out thy -wominb, long since, I came, A creature wrought of dust and flame; I knew no mortal mother's grace, But only viewed thy mystic face, That softly went, and softly came! ON HIS 70th BIRTHDAY. FROM this far realm of pines I waft thee now A brother's greeting, Poet, tried and true; So thick the laurels on thy reverend brow, We scarce can see the white locks glimmering through! I knew thee in the sunset grand, The waveless calmi, the silvery strand; Frolmi out the shimmering twilight bars I saw thee smile betwee n t he st ars, Di)vinely sweet, or softly grand! I heard, beneath the sylvan arch, Thiy battling winds, led on by March, SwA-eep where the solemn pine-tops close About its ravaged, dim reposeIlusled, awed, beneath the woodland arch! 0 pure of thought! Earnest in heart as pen, The tests of time have left thee unde filed; And o'er the snows of threescore years and ten Shines the unsullied aureole of a child. I heard thee,'mid some tender hour, In lispinig leaf and rustling flower, In low lute-breathlings of the breeze, And tidal sighs o'er moonless seas Star-chlarmied in midnight's mournful hlou r!O DEAR Doctor, whose blandly invincible pen Hias honored so often your great fellow men With your genius and virtues, who do ubt s it is t rue That the world owes in turn, a warm tribute to you? I tihrilled( at each far-whispered tone That touched me fromn thy vast un known, At everiey dew-bright hint that fell From out thy soul unsearchable, Yea, each strange hint and shadowy tone! I felt, through dim, awe-laden space, The coming of thy veiled face; And in the fragrant night's eclipse The kisses of thy deathless lips, Like strange star-pulses, throbbed through space! Wheresoever rare merit has lifted its head From the cool country calm or the city's hotbed - You were always the first to applaud it by name, And to smooth for its feet the harsh pathway to fame. Noll mine own pulses, beating low, V.:hisper the spent life: " Tholt mnust go; Even as a wvasted Xrivutlet, pass Beyond the light, beneath the grass, For strength grows faint, and hope is loll,!" Wheresoever beneath the broad rule of the sun, By solve spirit elect, a grand deed has been done i 339 FOUR POEMS FOR SPECIAL OCCA SIONS. 1. TO THE POET WHITTIER. li TO 0. W. 1101,MES, ON HIS BIRTITDAY. LAI TER POEMS. Its electrical spell like the lighltning's would dart, Though the globe lay between, to thrill first in yotur heart! Philanthropist! poet! romancer! comn bined - Ay!' shrewd scientist too - who shall fathom your mind, Shall plumb that strange sea to the ut termnost deep, With its vast under-tides, and its rhytli mnical sweep? You have toiled in life's noon, till the hot blasting light Blinds the eyes that would guage your soul stature aright; But when eve comnes at last,'t will be clear to mankind, By the length of bright shadow your soul leaves behind! No Orient seer-wild woodlands,'round him furled, Building his shrine'mid virginal vales apart, E'er watched and waited in the antique world, For fire divine, with more ethereal heart! Can life's supreme oblations still re main All undiscerned? or hath some mar vellous levin Hallowed his gift, and down his rifted pain Flashed the white splendor of God's grace from heaven? TO HON. R. G. 11. upoN HIS 78th BIRTHIDAY. CLOSE to the verge of fourscore crowded years Your heart is strong, your soul serene and bright; As when confronting first life's hopes and fearsThe star of manhood crowned your brow withx light. Clear thoughts are spells to keep the life blood pure, Brave aims are medicinal, rife with balm; What wonder then, with thee life's joys endure, And life's majestic sunset smiles in calm! For thou art one whose brotherhood supreme Hath touched all circles of benign desire; Therefore, thy days like some uncloud ed dri eam, Are slowly melting into heavenly fire. TO EMERSON. ON HiS 7,7th BIRTHDAY. "I dclo esteemnie hini a deepe sincere soule; one that seemneth ever to be travailing after the IfiIite!" - Sir Tlhomas Browne. Aul! what to him our trivial praise or blame, WVho through long years hath raised half-mournful eyes Yearning to mark some heaven-descend ed flame Light his soul's altar rife with sacri fice? The offering of far thoughts, profound as prayer, And starry dreams, still rhythmical of youth, With travail of brain that pants for lof ti er a ir, To the veiled mystery of immaculate Tr uth: I 40 IV. III. HUMOROUS POEMS. '~~~~ I l!IJ I I HUMOROUS POEMS. When I strove, half in earnest, to flout him, Pale, pale at my footstool he sunk; But mammna, quite too ready to scout him, Would hint that " sweet Willie " was drunk! TO A FRIEND. THEY declare that I'm gracefully pretty, The very best waltzer that whirls; Thev say I amn sparkling and witty, The pearl, the queen rose-bud of girls. But, alas for the popular blindness! Its judgment, though folly, can hurt: Since my heart, that runs over with k indness, It vows is the heart of a flirt! My second, a florid Adonis Of forty-and-five, to a day, Drives me out in his phaeton with po nies, Making love every yard of the way, Who so pleasantly placed could resist himin? Had he popped'neath the moonlight and d ew That eve, I could almost have kissed himn (A confession alone, dear, for you). How, ho7l, can I help it, if Nature, Whose mysteries baffle our ken, Hatlh made me the tenderest creature That ever had pity on men? Wvhen the shafts of my luminous glances Have tortured some sensitive breast, Why, I soften their light till it trances The poor wounded bosom to rest! Next, a widower, polished and youthful, Far famed for his learning and pelf: Can I doubt that his passion is truthful, That hie seeks me alone for myself? Yet I know that some slanderers mutter His fortune is just taking wings; But I scorn the backbiters who utter Such basely censorious things! Can I help it if, brought from all regions, As diverse in features as gait, Rash lovers besiege me in legions, Each lover demanding his fate? To be cold to such fervors of feeling Would pronounce me a dullard or d unce; And so, the bare thought sets me reel ing, I'm en-aged to six suitors at once! Could they hearken his love-whisper, dulcet As April's soft tide on the strand, Whose white curves are loath to re pulse it, So sweet is its homage and bland; Could they hear how his dead wife's de votion He praises, while yearning for mine - They would own that his ardent emotion Is something - yes - almost divine! The first, - we shall call himn " sweet Wailliam," He's a lad scarcely witty or wiseThe gloom of the sorrows of " Ilium " Would seem to outbreathe on his sighs. I V-4LEI-,'IE',5 COVFES,5lOiV. 3t IUMORPOUS POEMS. 3ly fourth - would to heaven I could paint him As next the high altar he stands - A Saint John, all the people besaint him? Pale brow and immaculate hands, All! his tones ill their wooing seem holy, Nor dare I believe it misplaced, AVhen an arm of the church, stealing slowly. Is folded, at length, round my waist; piy pulses beat tuynefull and fast; So I wNelconiiemd my iiionarclh, my master The Afist real love, and the last. OF a thousand queer mieetings, both g r eat, sir, and small The bird-party I sing of seenmed oddest of all! IHow they come to assemble -a mnulti form show - From all parts of the earth, is —well -more than I kiiow. Behold this long list of my lovers With a soldier and sailor complete: Both swear that their hearts were but rovers Till fettered and bound at m1y feet. Oh dear! but these worshippers daunt mne: Their claims, their vain wishes, appall; 'Tis sad how they harass and haunt me, tJreat, WHJAT, shatll I do wvith them ell? I only can vow that, one fine night of June, In a vast, varied garden, made bright by the 111oo01, Such bird-throngs I saw, with plumes brilliant or dark, As had nle'er met, I deem, since the age of the ark: LATER. There the phocenix, upborne on a tall ja sp e r spar, His fair mate by his side, shone serene as a star; As the foam-flakes, when steadfastly blowing, The west wind sweeps reckless and free, Are borne where the deep billows, flow ing, Pass out to a limitless sea, So the gay spume of girlish romances, Upeaught by true Love on his breath, With the fretwork and foam of young fancies, Was borne through vague distance to death. With a calm sort of pride glancing down on all others, As scorning to claim such canaille for his brothers! He alone of earth's creatures (more wise far th an Adam i), When Eve tempted him, said "Excuse me, good madam! " No juice from that fruit shall e'er moisten m?y thrapple! Delicious! perhaps.. but who gave you the apple? " * A Tradition says that when Adam ate of the forbidden fruit, at Eve's instigation, the phoenix, alone, of all creatures, equally tempt ed, did?tot fall. For he came —the true hero -one morning, And my soul with quick thrills of de light Leaped upward, renewed, and reborn in A world of stran,e beauty and might: I seemed fenced from all earthly disas ter; 344 0 A IIIEETING Ol,' THE, BIPDS. A JIL'El'b)VG OF THE BIRD)S. While the parrakeets glitter, the orioles float Through the moonlighted mist and fine vapors remote; Thenl —his tiny red optics upturned to this king Of all species that court the light air with a wing And by sides of small streams and clear lakelets outspread Stalks the long-legged flamingo, all scar let and red: Lo, the rooster! his top-knot bright crim son and blue, With his impudent strut and his cock doodle-doo, Is resolved, one can see, the king's hau teiur to b alk! I-hut'S al pb1C(eiix, forsooth, to sItch cocks of the walk! In sooth, birds of all climes, whether wild birds or taine, Whether dove-hued and sad, or high colored like flame, Oi! hlie bustles along, and hlie bullies his Twife, Till the poor humbled palrtlet is weary of life Walked, wobbled and sauntered, paused, fluttered and flew, With vast blending of plumes, and, ah! endless ado. WAhen, phew! like a bolt of blue light nigd or brown, Ouitflaslh.ed fromi the trees, a swift bee bird wllirls downe The eagle's loud anger, set deaf'ningly loose, Shrilled fierce o'er the arrogant hiss of the goose, Upon cocky's great top-knot upreared l ike a dome, To cut, just for once, his big high iness's comb! And a peacock, who screeched till his gills w ere h alf black, Could not drown, after all, a profes sional " quack; " From the rooster's discomfiture, laugh ing, I turn To where,'mid the garden's cool avenues, burn The nightingale pitted his voice and his lore 'Gainst the skylark, that never had trilled thus before; The fair cinnamon tufts of those hipooes that sold To King Solomon, once, their true crownlets of gold; * And the cock now recovered, and fresh, sir, as dew, Strove to bear them both down with his cock-doodle-doo: And beyond where the shadow waves dim by the sheen, The gay huiimning-bird darts -a live rainbow - between: Till- o ne volume of strange, contra dictory sound, The air, like a millwheel, whizzed round us and round. i The Hipooes originally had real crowns of gold onI their heads; but so persecuted were they because of this possession that they appealed to Solomon, who (the legend says) exchanged their gold crowns for crowns of feathers, retaining the former as a trifling "scomplim nent" for his m!agic skill and kindl~ess.' And while still the white moonshine, on vapors of fleece, Rained down its ineffable splendors in peace, 345 HULMlIOR1OUS POEMS. That bird congregation broke up in a row, Whose noises, half dreaming, I catch even now. A strident voice, " Rise! help to save the nation! " Roared in mine ear, half bellow and half squall; " Throw by your books, whliy,mian, there's treas o n brewinwg; Come, come with me, we'll block the march of ruin! " But the last glimpse of all that flashed quick on my eyes, Ere the whole meeting faded'twixt garden and skies, My neighbor, Dobson-all the gods con found him! Seized, shook and hauled mie from my cushioned seat; (Just then I could have drugged the wretch, or drowned hin;) But the next moment on bewildered feet, I trudged with him through dirty streets and we ather, That we might vote at the next poll to gether. Was the cuckoo's unwearied, nefarious leg Scratching fast to discover a phoenix's eg, Which, if found, I've no doubt, was close-hidden and pressed By the vile little wretch, with quite mother-like breast. Yet I've seen other creatures than creatures with wings Who dared to make free with thrice sanctified things,. Vote! vote for whom? I'd not the faint est notion; Little I recked of modern joys or woes; Wrapped in Greek wars and ancient Rome' s commotion, What passed beneath my philosophic nose, Seemed diml as glimmerings of a mid night taper Marked from afar through autumn clouds and vapor! Fromn whose false incubation what creeds came in vogue!! Evec t)-ith's egg is iiarried if hatche d out by a rogiee! A BACHELOR - BOOKWO,RM'S COM PLAINT OF THE LATE PRESIDEN TIAL ELECTION. At length we paused before a wood-work wicket, Shrining the grimy guardian of the poll; Into my hands they thrust a printed ticket, An ink-besmeared, suspicious-looking scroll, Which, ne'ertheless, held names of men who se action Would cow - they swore - the brazen front of faction! [LWritten during the Hayes and Tilden Controversy]. A SAN of peace, I never dared to marry, Lover of tranquil hour s, I dwelt apart; Outside the realhn where noisy schemes mi scarry; My only handmaids, Science, Learn ing, Art; Oh! home of pleasant thought, of calm affection, All blasted now by this last vile election! With scarce a glance, in vacant mood, I cas t it; That ticket soiled into as soiled a box; One porn, absorbed in studious contem plation Of what or whom, I cannot now recall, 346 0 A BACHELOR-BOOKWTORM'S COMPLAINT, ETC. Fight, if lie knows the wily tricks of " science," * Fly, if lie knows not wheni to smite, and wh?y; Needless to say, in this disastrous mat ter, Of the two ways, I wisely chose- the latter! I left my home; I fled to shades subur ban, Where an o0l aunt, as deaf as twenty posts. (A fine antique, bedecked with lace and turban, ) Lived in a house unknown to rats or ghosts; There, far from party conflicts, proud or petty, I dwell at peace, with sober Madame Betty! At peace! good lack, the universal virus Of party strife had captive made the air, The light, the very sun-motes shifting nigh us, And thus, alas! it entered even there; Up, down her stairs, how oft had I to stumip it, Shrieking the news through her infernal trumpet. Baffled, once more I sought the public pass-ways, But then, from morn to midnight's " witching noon," Monotonous as when some blatant ass brays, The same mixed clamors rose'neath sun and moon; Tilden and Hayes in never-ceasing wran gle, Who the vexed "snarl" shall ever dis entangle?. * Ring science, of course. A box, I thought, half vaguely as I passed it; Whose guardian " Rough " looked wily as a fox, Whilling, no doubt, for any public hero, To cheat (t(1 lib. - a Brutus, or a Nero! WAVelll from that day, my peace of life was shattered; Dobson ivotild come, all loweiing or ablaze With joy, to shout —(as if the issue mattered') Now "Tildteit's boon!" now "glorious Rithy IIclyes! " Vainly I argued, vainly vowed that d-n me, 1 didn t care three straws for Ruth or Sammy! "Have I not Scipio and majestic Cato, With their grand deeds to ponder yet?" I cried; Why, dunder-headed Dobson, will youv prate so, Of modern dwarfs of time and fate untried; I "Untried! " quoth he, aghast at my iniquity; "I'll back them both, by Jove!'gainst all antiquity! " And still he came, morning, and noon, and twilight, Bringing, at last, his party henchmen too; O! how I yearned to blow them through the skylight, Or, at the gentlest, beat them black and blue; Each cursed and threatened like some desperate Lara; Meanwhile they quaffed and quaffed my best Madeira! A point there is beyond the soul's de fiance, Which gained, a mortal man must fight, or fly; 347 1 IUlOll 0 -OUS lOEM118. Bank, hall, and market, counting-house and alley, Patrician parlor and low bar-room den, Echoed, as twere, cries of retreat or rally, Fromi brassy throats of many thousand mi-en; Such foolish boasts were blent wAithl threats as s illy, Yet ev-en the wNise mnen babbled -- iilly if illy. You'd scarce believe it; but maids fair and tender, Dancing fraon school, the merest slips of gils, Shrille(d IlH es or Til(deit, and with fiii gers slender, Caught an( dragged fiercely at each others' curls; Ill worids they spake-those inconsiderate iIllissesFrom rosebud lips just framed for love and kisses! The verv nurse-niaids with their baby charges, Took sides, anid squabbled; newsboys shoulting loud, Scuttled along the slippery pavement mnarges, And burst like youlg blulls throughi the motley cro wd Of parsons, black-legs, dandies, hack mien, bummeries; Swollen each mie olent by somie rash ew colm ers! Enough! the die is cast; from rage and riot, I'll cross o'er mountain walls and ocean streams, To seek and find( again, that gracious quiet, gWhlose chari lbathl left me, save in transient dIeamiis; In some far land and time, my spirit stilled thenI may —who knows - forgive both Hayes and Tilden! Around the telegraph stands they surged and battled, Till direful Hades seemed unloosed on earth; Lies were exchanged, cudgels and brick bats rattled; The veriest blackguard scorned the mian of birth, And tweaked his nose, or knocked his beaver doubleAh mie! the noise, the blows, the furious trouble! A " PETITE COMIEDI)E" IN EIHYME. CO(QUETTE! coquette! now, is it fair To weave for me your magic hair, Binding me thus, all unaware? Till, wholly meshed in every part, From dazzled eyes to captured hleart, Scarce can I, tlhro' yo ur ra diant snare, Inhale one waft of free-born air; Answer, coquette! now, is it fair? Ipassed a gay "Bazaar." and glanced within it, Of silks and satins, what a dazzling maze! Fair tongues were wagging smartly; every minute. " Of course'tis Tilden!" "nay, not so, 'tis IIaves! "' Rose, withl the rustle of bright garments blendingTA strife of voices, eager and unending! COQUETTE. O, foolish querist! what if I, Beholding your enamored face And every well-attested trace Of verdant, young idolatry, Should, after my own fashion, choose To play the subtly-amorous iliuse, I 348 0 COQUE7'7'-E, AVD HI,-]? LOJ-EIR,. I,OVEl'. "For full five seconds, it would seem As if y-ou really tlhouglht, coquette, Oil somiietlling grave." COQUETTE. Sutchi question-s!-ali! ))~o)t Die?.t! iron Diect!Fanicy I've p-)laces clianse(d(l witlh you! I cannot!'tis too lhar(l a taslk Of aiiy miioIrtatl bcelle to ask! LOV-E R. Is c70 the only- coimfort. thlenii You g ive to tlhrice-didelude mien?! SupT))ose ourl life-plan quite upset, l'everse(I in vwhlole. or changed in part; *[ sex your o-wn, and feelings strong, (Wviled by d(leep passion's e syreong); Yo?().,S the l)lind victij's tangled hleart, Ant rie to w-eave thlle tempter's nietWhat then, 0! honey-tongued coquette? [x SIT)E w,ith a a7alf-hti~-hu,oi-os, ha1f-solem77n air.] Fancy miiy person ch,angedi to 7i.s I,y some o(l(l miietamiiorplhosis I 3aO HUMOROUS POEMS. M[y fairy frame to that huge bulk That might befit red Pory O'Fulke, Our Irish groom!-six feet, at least, Of stature - with that boundless waist, Instead of mine, Titania might Quite envy on a' round-danlce " night, By all the waltzing beaux adored! MIy brow to that great, sabre-scored Brown forehead; and my cheeks of rose To bearded duffbs; my delicate noseQetel hol i-eur!'tis a hideous dream! Too miuch! by heaven! you heartless chit! I'll pr ore you underrate my wit, And self-respect, for all that's passed! I will- will break these bonds at last. Yes! look! you false, lharid-hlearted girl! I dash to earth the dazzling curl You gave inme once!... your portrait too!... (0, yes! I stole it,... what of that? 'Twill soon be shapeless, crushed and flat, Beneath my stern, avenging hleel! Would it wereflesh, and so could feel, .. Where is it! w he-e c? [lae s e a rches fraitical1ly, b?tt vaitly for the liketess iit onle pocket after caother.] LOVER. For full five seconds, it would seem As if you really thiottuhlt, coquette, On somethingi grave! Slowly about Your floNwer-like lips' delicious pout, Came tiny puckerings, lined witlh doubt; YouIIr large eyes widened deep and blue, As May-skies glimpsed thro' morning dew; And shadows vague as noon-tide trance Stole o'er vour vivid countenance: Coquette! shlow pity! -after all, -11( e you resolved to free from thlirall Your wretched serf?... Close, close your eyes For one brief. merciful minute; try To turn your perfect mouth awry; Let those archl smiles whilch magnetize Mly inmost blood be chlaianged to scorn; DI)o all a winsome lady born To loveliness and witchery, can, To flout a love-tormenlted man! [COQUETTE-approaching witlh inifiiite swnreetdhess, rests one lialid upon his shoulder, whlile the forefinger of the other is archly shaken il his algry face, that changes withl ludicrous quickness, from p)a,ssioni to bewildermiieint, aInd fromi bewaildermi-eint to rapture]: ... Why, Ilal, for shaime! you prayed just now, With earnest mien and solemn brow, That I would sting you with hot scorn; " Do ctll a wi~lsom)te 1latd,y bor~t To loveliness aii(l witcheery, catnl, 'o flouit at love-torm-) enIted is, ati." And lo! because your bidding's done; Half-way, and inildly; why, I've won Such rude abuse!... I shall not stir, Till you have begged my pardon, sir! ~.. Ital! do you love ine?... COQUETTE. You know as well as I What balns have soothlied your slavery; Besides, I'li )sie, wih(te'er yout saiy, There never yet has dawned the day On -whichl, in truth ('tis vain to frown), You longed to lay your fetters dowvn. Surely but airy chains they are, And tenuouis as the farthest star. But shosil(l vou break the binding net, You'd come... (ah! graceless, thank less loon!) ... Angel! saint! Ccaii this be true!... my heart grows fain t, With happiness!... so then, despite COQUETTE ( interrtlq)tinw ). Yes, deari! of feigned contempt and slight, I have loved you always! who but you 350 HUMOBOUS POEMS. 'Ei-e the next wax or wane of moon, To sigh, or call on "sweet coquette!" LOVEII. LOVEll. THE OBSERVANT "ELDEST" SPEAKS. Sparkles your legal lore with salt that's Attic! But, ah! those twinges (gout?), those pangs rheumatic! With muse of mine no more the public quarr els, But, Lord! how cold I feel despite the laurels! Yoad failed thus logl, to read eine true? You clear, delightful, blundering boy. LOV ER. ~.. Cupid be blessed! Oh, love! Oh, joy! ~.. But -here's that precious curl I thlewn i-ashlly anway?.. Already flown Oni some liglht w-ind? If spiced your fame, not so your milk or sago: Only mild diet suits a sharp lumbago. While as for me - what critic "puff" avails one Whose ownu short breath (asthmatic!) almost fails one? -Yes, ves.'tis gonie! But tlhenl the w-hole bright, golden net (.shqlcii2 9 (!ot,:t h1ler cee'l~s. ) You'v-e gainied w-ith ime!... If still unfair You deemii this soft, impilarisoningi snare; ind self-resplect, for all that's passed, Deimaends you break yor bolnds at la st, Give me due w-arning-if you please The world we dleemed so rife with fade less prizesWhich of us most its hollow show de spises? We'd yield our gains for just one miar vellous minute Of our lost youth, with all youth's glory in it! Ahl th?(s a lov-ing seal is set ()n rosy lips to keep) themn dumib; Somie other eve beneathl the trees ()f gol(leii su,iimmer,'m-iid the hlim O)f forest brooks and hive-bounid bees, I'll lhearken. madcap, while you tease. But nowa. in\ heart the future years Sees tliirogi a miist of blissful tears; MAy eves wnith giacious dew are wet; I'ni dr eaNiong'... her-e smiiles coquette Yet from this House of Life, now wrappe d in twrilight, Gleams'mid th(e shadowy roof Faith's miagic skylight; Whereby as night steals down through weird gradations, We hail the glow of hleavenly constella tions. So, as throlugh darkness only dawn the graces Of God's caln stars and lofty shining spaces, That night called death whichll shrouds our bodies breathless May flood the heaven of soul with peace mlade deathless. ABOUT TIlE PERIOD OF A -NE\V YEAR. Yotm- hair is scant, miy friend, and mine is scanter, On heads sno-wed white by Timne, the disencllante;r: In place of joyous beamis and jovial tB winkles, Behold. old )oy, our faces scored witl w-rinikles! " PA vosS that all gluittony's wvicked; He's always for (locking i) y meat, And ne'er at desser t will r le give me Enouigh of what's racy and sweet: I I i I i 351 COQt7ETTE. LO-N-EP,, (Ci) Ile)'). 0 SE-VEX TO III,5 FP, IE-VD. to 5aiii'l Loi-(I, Ji-., Ch(irlesto?z, S.C,. THE OBSEL? VAN'T " E L D I,:,5 T " 5 PEAKS. BlUMORiOUS POEMJS. Yet grandfathler, who's ninety and up ward, tie treats like an imbecile' flat.' And once when poor grandpa, at break fast, Mistook the slop-bowl for his cup, Pa imuttered(l,'I wish the old dotard Were locked- som)ewheie - heedfully up!' Yet he'll gorge and gorge on at his din nerls, As restless in mouth as in hand; - Now-, say, -if all gluttons are sinners, Where-nwhere does any governor' stand! 'Ol! pa's miiost impressive on lying; ( Meanest crime in the ainnals of siln; ) Yet why does hte tell folk (through Thomas) That hlie's ott when he knows that he's ill.And ma's done the same, when she meant not From house nor fromnt chamiber to stir: I suppose what is punished in me, sir, Is all right in Iiimi or in her! "I don't know what the'governor's' made of; But truly, if he were cart he, (I meain if lie were not 7)1y'pater' - Alack! that sIch fathers should be,) His name would begin as I spelt it, With a big blatant X, if you please, And conclude with the tiniest, mieanlest: But most self-sufficient of e's!" "Pa says, that good men must be ,enelerous, Self-den-ing, benevolent, kind;' Then why does he give those poor beg gars Just nothing? The lame and the blind, Small orphan, and wan, pining widow, The gold-covered head and the gray, Unsoothlied and ilnhelped in their sor rom hi turn- how sadly -, away Froiii I1iii} turn -how sadly -away! A POET once, whose tuneful soul, per chance, Too fondly leaned toward sin, and sin's r olance, On a long vanished eve, so calm and clear None could have deemed an evil spirit near, Brooding ill deeds, was summoned by a writ, In the dule form of Hades, to the Pit; A red-nosed, red-haired fiend the sum moner, About whose horrent head his locks did stir Like half-wvaked serpents! "Well," in wr-ath and woe, The poet cried. "whom the De'il drives 7ztTrst go, Whate'er the goal! Yet much I wish tha t he Had sent as guide some nobler fiend than thee, Tlhou hideous varlet!" "Pa counsels fair words of our neigh bors; - Ohll! he dotes on the pure'golden rule; - Yet he calls Aunt Selina'back-biter,' And he dubs Uncle Reuben' a fool." And when I said,'Youn, Reub's like his father,' On Mwhat text in reply did pa lean? lWhv.' Whoso thou fool shall dare utter,' muist taste-awell, you know what I nmean! "Pa says,'we must reverence our elders;' - How he harps and he harps upon that; - ,3-.) -D 0 LUCIIL,'I,",S DEPUTY. A IEDILIVAL 1,EGE' ND. LUCIFER'S DEPU_T of But while the absent fiends their cunning Counselled the other sagely, "while you lty!" lWhereon, as half in scorn and half in ire, He haled the poet to the realm of fire. Arrived in bounds Hadean, a vast rout Of fiends they met, who rushed tululltu ous out, To roam the earth and those doomed spirits snare lWho unsuspecting lived and acted there; Till in a few brief seconds the whole crew Of crow-ding demons -black, brown, green and blueAll but their haughty chief, his form up reared Through the red mist, had wildly dis appeared. Then said the dark archangel to the bard: TlThine eye is bright, thou hast a shrewd regard; And, therefore, ere I likewise o'er the imarge Of Hades wing my way for some brief hollrS To thee I choose to delegate my powers As chief and sovereign of this kingdom dread, To w-hichll, if well thou guardest, by my head Thy recompense, when I come back, shall be A luscious tid bit, garnished daintilyNo mieaner ectte'e than a roasted monk, (Before he's cooked we'll make the rascal drunk, To sp)ice his juices!); or, if thlou'dst prefer Yon leaner and less succulent usurer, Why, of our toil and time with trifling loss, We'll serve him] up, larded with golden sauce! " tasked To trap unwary souls, thick cloaked and masked, One entered Hades who did soon entice The heedless bard to play a game at dice, Staking he the souls he held in charge thereon. The stranger played superbly-played, and won. So, gather ing round him the freed souls, with care And kind despatch, safe to the outward ai r He led them triumphing; and all who now Looked on his unmasked face and glorious brow Knew that St. Peter stood amongst them there. But when the devils, trooping homeward, found Their kingdom void- its conflagrations drowned As'twere by showers from Heaven such curses roseLike thunder bellowing through the strange repose Which late had reigned —the poet's head whirled round, Stunned by the tumult. But ere long, with wlhirr And furious whizz, his right hand Lucifer Brought in such stinging contact with one cheek And then the other, that our minstrel, weak From pain and fear, sank trembling on the floor. But sternly Satan pointed to the door, Where through his faithless guard, with many a kick And echoing thump, and one swift mer ciless prick Of a keen pitchfork, was thrust forth in shame I I I I I i .I I I iI i 353 " Coine, keep cool, I say," 354 HUMOROUS POEMS. From out the empire of fierce grief and So, brother bards, whate'er ye write or flame, do, In even more woeful plight than when Be fearless. HIlades holds no place for he came! you: Then Lucifer upraised his arms and Since if on earth men deem your worth swore but small, A mighty oath that Hades' lurid door Why there,'tis plain, ye have no worth No poet's form should ever enter more! at all! POEMS FOR CHILDREN. POEMS FOR CHILDREN. " Out of the mouths of babes and suck lings still, Praise is perfected," thought he; thus, his will Blended with hers, and through those gates of sin, Black, even at noontide. sire and child passed in. Fancy the foulness of a sulphurous lake, Wherefrom a lily's snow-white leaves should break, Flushed by the shadow of an unseen rose! So, at the iron gate's lou d clang and close, Sho ne the drear twilight of that place defiled, Touched by the flower-like sweetness of the c hil d! O'er many a dismal vault, and stony floor, The chaplain walked from pond erous door to door, Till now beneath a stairway's dizzy flight He stood and looked up the far-circling height; But risen of late from fever's torture bed, How could he trust his faltering limbs and head? Just then, he saw, next to the mildewed wall, A man in prisoner's raiment, gaunt and tall, Of sullen aspect, and wan, downcast face, Gloomed in the midnight of some deep disgrace; LITTLE FueELLIE EV THE PRISO~V. The eyes of e child are sweeter than any hymn Ave have sung, And wiser than any sermon is the lisp of a childish tongue! HUGhii FALCON learned this happy truth one day; ('Twas a fair noontide in the month of May) - When, as the chaplain of the convicts' ja~il, He passed its glowering archway, sad and pale, Bearing his tender daughter on his arm. A five years' darling she! The dewy charm Of Eden star-dlawils glistened in her eyes; Her dimpled cheeks were rich with sun ny dyes. "Papa! " the child that morn while still abed, Drawing him close toward her, shyly said: "Papa! oh, won't you let your Nellie go To see those naughty men that plague you so, Down in the ugly prison by the wood? Papa, I'll beg and pray them to be good." "What, you, my child?" he said, with half a sigh. " Why not, papa? I'll beg them so to tey." The chaplain, with a father's gentlest grace, Kissed the small ruffled brow, the plead ing face: i i I i I I I POEMS FORP CHILDiAEN-. He shrank as one who yearned to fade And perished loves! A cabin by a rill Rose through the twilight on a happy hlill; And there were lithe child-figures at their play That flashe a d a nd fade d in the dusky ray; And near the porch a gracious wife who smiled, Pure a s y oung Eve in Eden, unbeguiled! Subdued, yet thrilled,'twas beautiful to see With what deep r everence, and how ten derly, He clasped the infant frame so slight and fair, And sa fely bore her up the darkening st a ir! The landing reached, in her arch, child ish ease, Our Nelly clasped his neck and whis per-ed: " Please, Won't you be good, sir? For I like you so, And you are such a big, strong man, vou know-" With pleading eyes, her sweet face side wise set. Then suddenly his'furrowed cheeks grew wet With sacred tears —in whose divine eclipse Upon her nestling head he pressed his lips As softly as a dreamy west wind's sigh, What time a something, undefined but high, As'twere a new soul, struggled to the dawn Through his raised eyelids. Thence, the gloom withdrawn Of brooding vengeance and unholy pain, He felt no more the captive's galling chain; But only knew a little child had come To smite despair, his taunting demon, dumb; away, Like a vague shadow on the stone-work gray, Or die beyond it, like a viewless wind; He seemed a spirit faithless, passionless, blind To all fair hopes which light the hearts of men, - A dull. dead soul, never to wake again! The chaplain paused, half doubting what to do, VWhen little Nellie raised her eyes of blue, And. no wise daunted by the downward stir Of shaggy brows that glowered askance at her, Said. - p)utting by her wealth of sunny "Sir, will you kindly take me up the stair? Papa is tired, and I'm too small to climb.''" Frankly her eyes in his gazed all the tilie; And something to her childhood's instinct known So worked within her, that her arms were thrown About his neck. She left her sire's em brace Near that sad convict-heart to take her place, Sparkling and trustful! -more she did not speak; But her quick fingers patted his swart cheek Caressingly, -- in time to some old tune Hummed by her nurse, in summer's drowsy noon! Perforce he turned his wild, uncertain gaze Down on the child! Then stole a trem ulous haze Across his eyes, but rounded not to tears; Wherethrouigh he saw faint glimmerings of lost years I I I I I -I - 8 4:) i i I i i i I I i i I i I I I I I I I,?4 /y : 1/,://'4{;, ~i:? A'' ~ "Our Nelly clasped his neck aind isp ee ' Please Won't you be good, sir? For I like you so.'" -~~~~~~ Waxr:l v. l l u wHE ('IILDP,EN-. -f TILL AND 1. An(1 perilill)s you miark thlleir brothlers Young hleroes -who spurln the sod IWhith the fervor of anti(lle kigligtliood, And the air of a (recian go(l! clil(l wh-lose marvellous innocence eii ticed A1ll wi-hite thotulghts back, that from the heart of Clhrist Fly (love-likle earth-ward, past our cloud e( le s.ke Child-life to bless, or lives of child-like mlenl! But where, ahl, where are the children, Your household fairies of yore? Alack! they are (dead, and their grace has fled For ever and ever more! Thus he went his wvay, An alteredl man from that thrice blessed dav: Iis soul ttmed ev-er to the soft refrain Of words once uttered in a sacred fane: The little children, let them come to me. Of such as these miy realmn of heaven must be; " But most lie loved of one dear child to tell, The child -whose trust ha ad saved him, tender Nell! I. WE roam the hills together, In the golden summer weather, Will and I: And the glowing sunbeams bless us, And the winds of hleaYen caress us, As we wander hand in hanid Through the blissful summer land Will and I. TIIE (C'HILD[)PEV. TIlE children! ah, the children! Your iilriocent, joyous ones; Your dautgliters, w-ithl souls of sunshine; Yoiii' buoyanlt and lauighing sons. Wnhere the tinklin-g brooklet passes Through the heart of dewy grasses, Will an(l I Have heard the mock-bird singing, Aiid the field-lark seen upsprilnging In his happy flight afar, Like a tiny wingt(l star, Will and I. Look long in their happy faces, D)riiik lov-e fromi their sparkling eyes, For the w-onderfutl charmi of childhood, IIow soon it withers and dies! III. A few- fast-v-anishingi stummers, A\ season or tw-ain of frost, Aund you suddllenly ask, bew-ildlered AWhat is it mly heart hliathl lost?" Amid cool forest closes We have plucked the wild wood roses, Will a nd I; And have twined, w ith tender (duty, Swveet wvreaths to crown the b)eauity Of the purest brows that shine With a mnother-love divine Will and I. Perliaps you see by the hearth-stone oiome Jtiio. stately and proud, Or a lel)e whose softly amblushled eyes Flasli out fromi the golden cloud Of lavisi and l)eaitiful tresses That w-antonily floating, stray O'er the f-hite of a thlooat an( bosom Alore fair than blossoms in May. Ah! thus we roa m tog e ther, Through the l ol en summer wveather, WVill aii( I; 359 0 IT,'ILL AA,-D L 0 II. I IV. 1lHAI[I %'YIItI, And omother a(l home were far l)ehli i(l. llilie lone -.lii a golden (ldrieam as lie, Far over the sticleai and the boulders gr-ay'And the will-soing pipes, and tlhe cur lew-,ss fle(e,. And the little b)rown sqiirrels (dance Through the boughl s all (lay. Blut thle lay gcew (di11, and the night shades fell, And( there in the dark, drear, hulnLiry In the loneliest nook of a mou'ntain (lell, Where nI(ver( a tender moonb)ealm smile(l, Lay the wearyi-v child! Like one in an awful trance was he, In the deep dun heart of the woodland gloom; But a tranice whose shadows can never Ilee, Till the mlystic truinp of the day of doomn Breaks vault and tomb. And they found him there with his bleedingi hands So humlly crossed o'er the ragged vest, His spirit bad gone to the angel lands, But his out-worn body they laid to rest In the last sa(d smile of the gentle west: God guard his rest! Far over the streamii anid the boulders ray.iAlerie the will(l-song )ies, and the cur lfws flee, And the little )row-n squirrels (lanlce a111(l play Thlro,ugh the l)ouglls all day? TIOTIIErT,. Wh,. only a forest darlk and wild, A s-avage Vaste yo must sbun, my child! JAMIL. 0 motler. lhat shalIl)es are those that sit ini tl( d(leep (ldun hlart of the w-oodland gloollo? Al-id wn-lhat thlose creaturies that dip and flit. Eaelh crowlied w\ith a gollen aind scar let llIlue, t'l' the talnarinid b)loomi-i? MIOTIIEIP. Wlylv. ouly the monkeys crouched from Sihllt. Aid paIaro(liets flashling in gay-ued flight! JAMIE. 0 mother. what children are those that ,So sw-ift alnd light'mid the tree-stems bare? Theyi- seei to t-inkle from shade to sun, And )beckon 1me over their sport to sIn the noonti de fair! In- the nloonltide fair! And thle next LorT('s D)ay, ill his Ipulpit, The preacleri so sptlkh o f tlle s(u. Stray laiimbs fi'oii tlhe folhl, i-lilcli Jesus Ita(l blessed b)y the sare (l sea,s: Alhine in thlat crowd-e(l city, AN-Ihiclh slhiiies like an aictic star, ly- tlhe banks of tlie frozen Ne-va, In the real]h of the iighllty C(zar. So recolunted( thleir ttileless story, As lie lheld eachi child( 1)y the land, That tile hardest tlhere could feel it, And( the dullest could Uli(leistaid(l. NowN-. Max w-as an urchin of sevenA; Butt his delicate sister, Leeze, Aitli the crown of her rippling ringlets, ('outld scarcely hlave reached your knees. O'er thle eyes of the listenin, fathlers There floated a graciotis niist; Adt(r olb, Th ow tlle teate er d liotlieds Those desolate (larlinll,s kissed! As li( looked on his sister weeping, And torttu t ed li y lanauger's sent art, A tlhoullght like an ang!el entered At the door of lhis olpneid heart. " You hlave given your tears," said the preachler, "1 HIeart-almiis we slhouh(l nione despise; But the oliext 9)l., iy chld'ren,, Is )i~o) e th()t the ieepiwj eyes! " ie Nwrote on a fraglment of paper, A-itll (qiivering ihanld and soul, Pi,(t,se, (1 to lie, ('hiist, tlhree co To Lechos. T'; 2l;~'chqets ~or Leeze at roll! " T hen fo llowed a swift collection, From tlhe altar steps to tlhe door, Till the stumn of two tlhouisand( rubles The vergers lhadl counted o'er. Theni. rushed( to a clhurchl, Ills miissive To dIrop. —ere the vesper psalms,As the suriest 11ail bon1ud Cliristward, iin the inilocked box for alims! So youi see ga that tle l oiaile( letter Had somtiehlow goiie to its goal, And(I miior(e tllanil tlil ee cope(ks gathered To pro'chase for Leeze a roll! Wliile lie stepped lupon tiptoe to reach it, One passe(l frIoII tle priestly )baid, iAnd w-itli smile like a li)enel(iction, Took the note froim his eager hand. Having read it. thle goodl miani's b)osomJI (Grew warm wN-ithl a lIoly joy; iAh! Clhrist miay hlave hleard you all ea(ld, AVill yol come to,ly houise, my boy?" a') like, indeed t'(1 lilet to kdnow iWlW y sister lBell, hlio loved mie so, iAnd( used to pet im(e day and(l night, Andi(I coiil(l inot b(ear- Ill(' ouit of siglht, I ., -11WtJ. 1'.t. 1 Xoto[ t11 i I I 6 7'tIE.EAS O(V tf"IlY. All'[ I ()LI Dll IL, L} [}I'ltLL[111,'3 Audl(l; of all MAiss Pointooi's girls, Not onie could niiateli umy flowing curls, 3Iv- r1)ov ciheeks anid roIl(unded clin, AWitli ole sly diinplle nestling iin. But iiow-. he seemis so stelrn anil high,g I scarce lmay catch his scornful eye, WVhile as for to)ys! — lie has ceased to b)luy! Tell mie. -who cani, tlhe reasoln why? It's niean l ear iec! 1'ni su it's miiean! Did I not run a' go-)etween" Frolm hhii to sister Bell so long., (Altlhough 1 fe