He rises on her, through the night,

Like some bright spirit of the sea,

And stands before her, in the light
Of his own high nobility!

But he is as those meteor things

That tread, like monarchs, through the sky,
Yet have their red and burning wings
Controlled and plumed by destiny!—
He came like light,—like light is gone,
Where far Hesperia beckons on ;
And a young blighted passion-flower
Lies withering in Elissa's bower!

Born eastward, where the palmy Tyre
Holds spirits, like its daylight-fire;
And passion takes a deeper tone
From Syria's warm and glowing zone;
And love—and every sunny thing-
Spring upward on a brighter wing;-

56

ENEAS AND DIDO.

Her heart is like her native scenes,
(And all a woman's-though a queen's!)
A heart whose fountains, dried away,
Have left it to the scorching ray,

That makes her young and wasted breast
Like wilds and waters in the East,-

A lifeless and a tideless sea,

A desert,-to eternity!

I AM ALL ALONE.

I AM all alone!—and the visions that play
Round life's young days, have passed away;

And the songs are hushed that gladness sings;

And the hopes that I cherished have made them wings;

And the light of my heart is dimmed and gone,

And I sit in my sorrow, and all alone!

And the forms which I fondly loved are flown,
And friends have departed—one by one;
And memory sits, whole lonely hours,

And weaves her wreath of hope's faded flowers,
And weeps o'er the chaplet, when no one is near
To gaze on her grief, or to chide her tear!

58

I AM ALL ALONE.

And the home of my childhood is distant far,

And I walk in a land where strangers are;

And the looks that I meet and the sounds that I hear

Are not light to my spirit, nor song to my ear;
And sunshine is round me,-which I cannot see,

And

eyes that beam kindness, but not for me!

And the song goes round, and the glowing smile,
But I am desolate all the while!

And faces are bright and bosoms glad,

And nothing, I think, but my heart, is sad!
And I seem like a blight in a region of bloom,
While I dwell in my own little circle of gloom!

I wander about, like a shadow of pain,

With a worm in my breast, and a spell on my brain; And I list, with a start, to the gushing of gladness,—

Oh! how it grates on a bosom all sadness!

So, I turn from a world where I never was known,

To sit in my sorrow,-and all alone!

WINGS.

OH! for the wings we used to wear,

When the heart was like a bird,

And floated, still, through summer air, And painted all it looked on fair,

And sung to all it heard!

When fancy put the seal of truth

On all the promises of youth!

Oh! for the wings with which the dove
Flies to the valley of her rest,1o

To take us to some pleasant grove,
Where hearts are not afraid to love,

And truth is, sometimes, blest;