And when her sire,

Met my advances with impassion'd pride,
That kindled love with love.
Who in his dream of hope already grasp'd
The golden circlet in his hand, rejected
My suit with insult, and in memory

Of ancient feuds pour'd curses on my head,
Her blessings overtook and baffled them!

But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance
Art inly reasoning whilst thou listen'st to me.

Sandoval.

Anxiously, Henry ! reasoning

anxiously.

But Oropeza

Earl Henry. Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, Beneath the walls, which opens out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the garden.— The night ere my departure to the army, She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom, And to that covert by a silent stream, Which, with one star reflected near its marge,

Was the sole object visible around me.

No leaflet stirr'd; the air was almost sultry ;
So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us!
No leaflet stirr'd ;-yet pleasure hung upon
The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air.
A little further on an arbour stood,

Fragrant with flowering trees-I well remember
What an uncertain glimmer in the darkness

Their snow-white blossoms made thither she led

me,

To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembled—

I heard her heart beat-if 'twere not my own.
Sandoval. A rude and scaring note, my friend!
Earl Henry.
Oh! no!

I have small memory of aught but pleasure.
The inquietudes of fear, like lesser streams
Still flowing, still were lost in those of love :
So love grew mightier from the fear, and Nature,
Fleeing from pain, shelter'd herself in joy.
The stars above our heads were dim and steady,
Like eyes suffused with rapture.-Life was in us :
We were all life, each atom of our frames
A living soul-I vow'd to die for her :

With the faint voice of one who, having spoken,
Relapses into blessedness, I vow'd it :
That solemn vow, a whisper scarcely heard,
A murmur breathed against a lady's ear.
Oh! there is joy above the name of pleasure,
Deep self-possession, an intense repose.

Sandoval [with a sarcastic smile]. No other than as eastern sages paint,

The God, who floats upon a lotos-leaf,
Dreams for a thousand ages; then awaking,

Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble,

Relapses into bliss.

Earl Henry.

Ah! was that bliss

Fear'd as an alien, and too vast for man?

For suddenly, impatient of its silence,
Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead.

I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them. Through the dark bower she sent a hollow voice ;"Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?

I swore, and with an inward thought that seem'd The purpose and the substance of my being,

I swore to her, that were she red with guilt,
I would exchange my unblench'd state with hers.—
Friend! by that winding passage, to that bower
I now will go all objects there will teach me
Unwavering love, and singleness of heart.
Go, Sandoval! I am prepared to meet her—
Say nothing of me-I myself will seek her-
Nay, leave me, friend! I cannot bear the torment
And keen inquiry of that scanning eye.—

[Earl Henry retires into the wood.] Sandoval [alone]. O Henry always strivest thou to be great

By thine own act—yet art thou never great
But by the inspiration of great passion.

The whirl-blast comes, the desert-sands rise up And shape themselves: from earth to heaven they stand,

As though they were the pillars of a temple,
Built by Omnipotence in its own honour !
But the blast pauses, and their shaping spirit
Is fled the mighty columns were but sand,
And lazy snakes trail o'er the level ruins!

TO A LADY.

WITH FALCONER'S " SHIPWRECK."

AH! not by Cam or Isis, famous streams,

In arched groves, the youthful poet's choice;

Nor while half-listening, 'mid delicious dreams, To harp and song from lady's hand and voice;

Nor yet while gazing in sublimer mood

On cliff, or cataract, in Alpine dell;

Nor in dim cave with bladdery sea-weed strew'd, Framing wild fancies to the ocean's swell;

Our sea-bard sang this song! which still he sings, And sings for thee, sweet friend! Hark, Pity,

hark!

Now mounts, now totters on the tempest's wings, Now groans, and shivers, the replunging bark!

66

Cling to the shrouds !" In vain! The breakers

roar

Death shrieks! With two alone of all his clan Forlorn the poet paced the Grecian shore,

No classic roamer, but a shipwreck'd man!

Say then, what Muse inspired these genial strains And lit his spirit to so bright a flame?

The elevating thought of suffer'd pains,

Which gentle hearts shall mourn; but chief, the

name

Of gratitude! remembrances of friend,

Or absent or no more! shades of the Past,

Which Love makes substance! Hence to thee I send,

O dear as long as life and memory last !

I send with deep regards of heart and head,

Sweet maid, for friendship form'd! this work to thee:

And thou, the while thou canst not choose but shed A tear for Falconer, wilt remember me.

THE VISIONARY HOPE.

SAD lot, to have no hope! Though lowly kneeling
He fain would frame a prayer within his breast,
Would fain entreat for some sweet breath of healing,
That his sick body might have ease and rest;

He strove in vain! the dull sighs from his chest
Against his will the stifling load revealing,

Though Nature forced; though like some captive guest,

Some royal prisoner at his conqueror's feast,
An alien's restless mood but half concealing,
The sternness on his gentle brow confess'd,
Sickness within and miserable feeling :

Though obscure pangs made curses of his dreams,
And dreaded sleep, each night repell'd in vain,
Each night was scatter'd by its own loud screams :
Yet never could his heart command, though fain,
One deep full wish to be no more in pain.

That Hope, which was his inward bliss and boast, Which waned and died, yet ever near him stood, Though changed in nature, wander where he would

For Love's despair is but Hope's pining ghost!