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SONG.

The death-watch ticked behind the wall,

The blackness rustled like a pall, VIOLET ! gweet violet !

The moaning wind did rise and fall
Thine eyes are full of tears ;

Among the bleak pines, Rosaline !
Are they wet

My heart beat thickly in mine ears :
Even yet

The lids may shut out fleshly fears,
With the thought of other years ? But still the spirit sees and hears,
Or with gladness are they full,

Its eyes are lidless, Rosaline !
For the night so beautiful,
And longing for those far-off spheres ? A wildness rushing suddenly,

A knowing some ill shape is nigh,
Loved one of my youth thou wast, A wish for death, a fear to die,
Of my merry youth,

Is not this vengeance, Rosaline?
And I see,

A loneliness that is not lone,
Tearfully,

A love quite withered up and gone, All the fair and sunny past,

A strong soul ousted from its throne, All its openness and truth,

What wouldst thou further, Rosaline? Ever fresh and green in thee As the moss is in the sea.

'Tis drear such moonless nights as these,

Strange sounds are ont upon the breeze,
Thy little heart, that hath with love And the leaves shiver in the trees,
Grown colored like the sky above, And then thou comest, Rosaline !
On which thou lookest ever, —

I seem to hear the mourners go,
Can it know

With long black garments trailing slow,
All the woe

And plumes anodding to and fro,
Of hope for what returneth never, As once I heard them, Rosaline !
All the sorrow and the longing
To these hearts of ours belonging ? Thy shroud is all of snowy white,

And, in the middle of the night,
Out on it ! no foolish pining

Thou standest moveless and upright,
For the sky

Gazing upon me, Rosaline !
Dims thine eye,

There is no sorrow in thine eyes,
Or for the stars so calmly shining ;

| But evermore that meek surprise, Like thee let this soul of mine

O God! thy gentle spirit tries
Take hue from that wherefor I long,

To deem me guiltless, Rosaline !
Self-stayed and high, serene and strong,
Not satisfied with hoping — but divine. Above thy grave the robin sings,

And swarms of bright and happy things Violet ! dear violet !

Flit all about with sunlit wings, Thy blue eyes are only wet

But I am cheerless, Rosaline ! With joy and love of Him who sent thee,

The violets on the hillock toss, And for the fulfilling sense

The gravestone is o'ergrown with moss ; Of that glad obedience

For nature feels not any loss, Which made thee all that Nature meant

ant But I am cheerless, Rosaline ! thee!

I did not know when thou wast dead ;

| A black bird whistling overhead ROSALINE.

Thrilled through my brain ; I would have

fled, Thou look'dst on me all yesternight, But dared not leave thee, Rosaline ! Thine eyes were blue, thy hair was bright The sun rolled down, and very soon, As when we murmured our troth-plight Like a great fire, the awful moon Beneath the thick stars, Rosaline ! Rose, stained with blood, and then aswoon Thy hair was braided on thy head, Crept chilly o'er me, Rosaline ! As on the day we two were wed, Mine eyes scarce knew if thou wert dead, The stars came out; and, one by one, But my shrunk heart knew, Rosaline! Each angel from his silver throne

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But the tuft of moss before him

Opened while he waited yet,
And, from out the rock's hard bosom,

Sprang a tender violet.

| " In her hand she held a flower,

Like to this as like may be,
Which, beside my very threshold,

She had plucked and brought to me."

“God! I thank thee," said the Prophet;

“ Hard of heart and blind was I, Looking to the holy mountain

For the gift of prophecy. “Still thou speakest with thy children

Freely as in eld sublime; Humbleness, and love, and patience,

Still give empire over time.

“Had I trusted in my nature,

And had faith in lowly things,
Thou thyself wouldst then have sought

me,
And set free my spirit's wings.

SONG.
O MOONLIGHT deep and tender,

A year and more agone,
Your mist of golden splendor

Round my betrothal shone !
O elm-leaves dark and dewy,

The very same ye seem,
The low wind trembles through ye,

Ye murmur in my dream !
O river, dim with distance,

Flow thus forever by,
A part of my existence

Within your heart doth lie !
O stars, ye saw our meeting,

Two beings and one soul,
Two hearts so madly beating

To mingle and be whole !
O happy night, deliver

Her kisses back to me,
Or keep them all, and give her

A blissful dream of me!

“But I looked for signs and wonders,

That o'er men should give me sway; Thirsting to be more than mortal,

I was even less than clay.

"Ere I entered on my journey,

As I girt my loins to start, Ran to me my little daughter,

The beloved of my heart;

SONNETS.

| Nor hath thy knowledge of adversity

Robbed thee of any faith in happiness, TO A. C. L.

But rather cleared thine inner eyes to see

How many simple ways there are to bless. THROUGH suffering and sorrow thou hast

passed To show us what a woman true may be : They have not taken sympathy from thee, Nor made thee any other than thou wast, What were 1, Love, if I were stripped of Save as some tree, which, in a sudden blast,

If thine eyes shut me out whereby I live, Sheddeth those blossoms, that are weakly Thou, who unto my calmer soul dost give grown,

Knowledge, and Truth, and holy Mys. Upon the air, but keepeth every one

tery, Whose strength gives warrant of good wherein Truth mainly lies for those who fruit at last :

see So thou hast shed some blooms of gay. Beyond the earthly and the fugitive, ety,

Who in the grandeur of the soul believe, But never one of steadfast cheerfulness ; | And only in the Infinite are free ?

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ours

Without thee I were naked, bleak, and

bare As yon dead cedar on the sea-cliff's brow; TO THE SPIRIT OF KEATS. And Nature's teachings, which come to Great soul, thou sittest with me in my me now,

room, Common and beautiful as light and air,

Uplifting me with thy vast, quiet eyes, Would be as fruitless as a stream which

On whose full orbs, with kindly lustre, lies still Slips through the wheel of some old

The twilight warmth of ruddy ember

gloom: ruined mill.

Thy clear, strong tones will oft bring sud.

den bloom III.

Of hope secure, to him who lonely crie:s,

Wrestling with the young poet's agonies, I WOULD not have this perfect love of Neglect and scorn, which seem a certain

doom : Grow from a single root, a single stem,

Yes! the few words which, like great Bearing no goodly fruit, but only flowers thunder-drops, That idly hide life's iron diadem: Thy large heart down to earth shook It should grow alway like that Eastern

doubtfully, tree

Thrilled by the inward lightning of its Whose limbs take root and spread forth might, constantly ;

Serene and pure, like gushing joy of light, That love for one, from which there doth Shall track the eternal chords of Destiny, not spring

After the moon-led pulse of ocean stops. Wide love for all, is but a worthless thing. Not in another world, as poets prate, Dwell we apart above the tide of things,

VI. High floating o'er earth's clouds on faery Great Truths are portions of the soul of wings;

man ; But our pure love doth ever elevate

Great souls are portions of Eternity ; Into a holy bond of brotherhood

Each drop of blood that e'er through true All earthly things, making them pure

heart ran and good.

With lofty message, ran for thee and me;

For God's law, since the starry song began, IV.

Hath been, and still forevermore must be, “For this true nobleness I seek in vain, That every deed which shalloutlast Time's In woman and in man I find it not ;

span I almost weary of my earthly lot,

| Must spur the soul to be erect and free ; My life-springs are dried up with burn- / Slave is no word of deathless lineage ing pain."

sprung; Thou find'st it not? I pray thee look Too many noble souls have thought and again,

died, Look inward through the depths of thine Too many mighty poets lived and sung, own soul.

| And our good Saxon, from lips purified How is it with thee ? Art thou sound With martyr-fire, throughout the world and whole ?

hath rung Doth narrow search show thee no earthly Too long to have God's holy cause denied.

stain ? BE XOBLE! and the nobleness that lies

VII. In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own; I Ask not for those thoughts, that sudden Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, leap Then will pure light around thy path be From being's sea, like the isle-seeming shed,

Kraken, And thou wilt nevermore be sad and With whose great rise the ocean all in lone.

shaken

And a heart-trein ble quivers through the | We live and love, well knowing that deep;

there is Give me that growth which some per. No backward step for those who feel the chance deem sleep,

bliss Wherewith the steadfast coral-stems up- Of Faith as their inost lofty yearnings rise,

high : Which, by the toil of gathering energies, Love hath so purified my being's core, Their upward way into clear sunshine Meseems I scarcely should be startled, keep,

even, Until, by Heaven's sweetest influences, To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone Slowly and slowly spreads a speck of before ; green

Since, with thy love, this knowledge too Into a pleasant island in the seas,

was given, Where, mid tall palms, the cane-roofed Which each calm day doth strengthen home is seen,

more and more, And wearied men shall sit at sunset's That they who love are but one step from hour,

Heaven. Hearing the leaves and loving God's dear power.

X.

VIII.

I CANNOT think that thou shouldst pass

away, TO M. W., ON HER BIRTHDAY. Whose life to mine is an eternal law, MAIDEN, when such a soul as thine is

A piece of nature that can have no flaw,

A new and certain sunrise every day; born,

| But, if thou art to be another ray The morning-stars their ancient music

About the Sun of Life, and art to live make,

Free from what part of thee was fugitive, And, joyful, once again their song awake,

K: | The debt of Love I will more fully pay, Long silent now with melancholy scorn ;

Not downcast with the thought of thee And thou, not mindless of so blest a

so high, morn, By no least deed its harmony shalt break,

But rather raised to be a nobler man, But shalt to that high chime thy foot.

And more divine in my humanity, steps take,

As knowing that the waiting eyes which

scan Through life's most darksome passes un- | My life are lighted by a purer being, forlorn;

And ask high, calm-browed deeds, with Therefore from thy pure faith thou shalt

it agreeing. not fall, Therefore shalt thou be ever fair and

free, And in thine every motion musical As summer air, majestic as the sea,

THERE never yet was flower fair in vain, A mystery to those who creep and crawl | Let classic poets rhyme it as they will : Through Time, and part it from Eternity. The seasons toil that it may blow again,

And summer's heart doth feel its every ill;
Nor is a true soul ever born for naught;
Wherever any such hath lived and died,

There hath been something for true freeMy Love, I have no fear that thou dom wrought, shouldst die;

Some bulwark levelled on the evil side : Albeit I ask no fairer life than this, Toil on, then, Greatness ! thou art in the Whose numbering-clock is still thy gen

right, tle kiss,

However narrow souls may call thee While Time and Peace with hanıls en

wrong; locked fly,-

Be as thou wouldst be in thine own clear Yet care I not where in Eternity.

sight,

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