THE SLEEPER. In childhood, many an idle stone; It was the dead who groaned within. THE HAUNTED PALACE.* I. In the greenest of our valleys It stood there : Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! II. Banners-yellow, glorious, golden- (This, all this, was in the olden * The melody of this poem has been impudently borrowed by an English versifier since the first edition was published. ED. (1856.) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, III. Wanderers in that happy valley, To a lute's well-tuned law, In state his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. IV. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace-door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. 1 V. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed. VI. And travellers now within that valley, While, like a ghastly rapid river, A hideous throng rush out for ever, TO ZANTE. FAIR isle, that from the fairest of all flowers No more—no more upon thy verdant slopes! Transforming all! Thy charms shall please no more, Thy memory no more! Accursed ground Henceforth I hold thy flower-enamelled shore, O hyacinthine isle! O purple Zante! "Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante !" |