there was a possible consolation. When there should come a lull in the storm of her grief, it might have been whispered to her:

Oh, wherefore weep for Percy! he is not dead! The thunder-cloud and wind he loved, and sea, Have borne his body to its earthen bed Of elemental life, while thankful, he Springing agaze into the immensity Where his creative thought aye joyed to roam, His being aglow with livelier life, and free From fleshly bonds and bars and fretted foam, A raptured angel is he in his heavenly home.

GOETHE.

17

TO GOETHE.

TEUTONIC leader, - in the foremost file

Of that picked corps, whose rapture 't is to feel
With subtler closer sense all woe and weal,
And forge the feeling into rhythmic pile

Of words, so tuned they sing the sigh and smile
Of all humanity, meek did'st thou kneel

At Nature's pious altars, midst the peal
Of prophet-organs, thy great self the while

All ear and eye, thou greatest of the band,
Whose voices waked their brooding Luther-land,-
At last left lone in Weimar, famed through thee,
Wearing with stately grace thy triple crown
Of science, statesmanship, and poesy,

Enrobed in age and love and rare renown.