And sunset into rose-hues sees them wrought
By rays which sleep there lovingly the rocks,
The permanent crags, tell here of Love, who sought
In them a refuge from the worldly shocks,

Which stir and sting the soul with hope that woos,
then mocks.

Clarens! by heavenly feet thy paths are trod,
Undying Love's, who here ascends a throne
To which the steps are mountains; where the god
Is a pervading light and life-so shown
Not on those summits solely, nor alone

In the still cave and forest; o'er the flower
His eye is sparkling, and his breath hath blown,
His soft and summer breath, whose tender power
Passes the strength of storms in their most desolate
hour.

All things are here of him; from the black pines,
Which are his shade on high, and the loud roar
Of torrents, where he listeneth, to the vines
Which slope his green path downward to the shore,
Where the bow'd waters meet him, and adore,
Kissing his feet with murmurs; and the wood,
The covert of old trees, with trunks all hoar,
But light leaves, young as joy, stands where it
Offering to him and his a populous solitude. [stood,
A populous solitude of bees and birds,

And fairy-form'd and many-colour'd things,
Who worship him with notes more sweet than
And innocently open their glad wings, [words,
Fearless and full of life: the gush of springs,
And fall of lofty fountains, and the bend

Of stirring branches, and the bud which brings
The swiftest thought of beauty, here extend,
Mingling, and made by Love, unto one mighty end.

He who hath loved, not here would learn that lore,
And make his heart a spirit; he who knows
That tender mystery will love the more,

For this is Love's recess, where vain men's woes

[those,

And the world's waste have driven him far from For 'tis his nature to advance or die; He stands not still, but or decays, or grows Into a boundless blessing, which may vie With the immortal lights in its eternity!

The moon is up, and yet it is not night : Sunset divides the sky with her a sea Of glory_streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains: Heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Diana's crest Floats through the azure air, an island of the bless'd!

A single star is at her side, and reigns
With her o'er half the lovely heaven; but still
Yon sunny sea heaves brightly, and remains
Roll'd o'er the peak of the fair Rhætian hill,
As Day and Night contending were, until
Nature reclaim'd her order: gently flows
The deep-dyed Brenta, where their hues instil
The odorous purple of a newborn rose, [it glows,
Which streams upon her stream, and glass'd within

Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar,
Comes down upon the waters; all its hues,
From the rich sunset to the rising star,
Their magical variety diffuse :

And now they change; a paler shadow strews
Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps away,

[gray.

The last still loveliest, till-'tis gone-and all is

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart
Which found no mortal resting-place so fair
As thine ideal breast; what'er thou art
Or wert-a young Aurora of the air,

The nympholepsy of some fond despair;
Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth,

Who found a more than common votary there Too much adoring; whatsoe'er thy birth, [forth. Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied

The mosses of thy fountain still are sprinkled
With thine Elysian water-drops; the face

Of thy cave-guarded spring, with years unwrinkled,
Reflects the meek-eyed genius of the place,
Whose green, wild margin now no more erase
Art's works; nor must the delicate waters sleep,
Prison'd in marble, bubbling from the base
Of the cleft statue, with a gentle leap [creep
The rills run o'er, and round fern, flowers, and ivy

Fantastically tangled; the green hills

Are clothed with early blossoms, through the grass
The quick-eyed lizard rustles, and the bills
Of summer-birds sing welcome as ye pass;
Flowers fresh in hue, and many in their class,
Implore the pausing step, and with their dyes
Dance in the soft breeze in a fairy mass;

The sweetness of the violet's deep blue eyes, Kiss'd by the breath of heaven, seems colour'd by its skies.

Here didst thou dwell, in this enchanted cover,
Egeria! thy all-heavenly bosom beating
For the far footsteps of thy mortal lover;
The purple Midnight veil'd that mystic meeting
With her most starry canopy, and seating
Thyself by thine adorer, what befell?

This cave was surely shaped out for the greeting
Of an enamour'd goddess, and the cell
Haunted by holy love-the earliest oracle!

I see before me the gladiator lie :
He leans upon his hand; his manly brow
Consents to death, but conquers agony,
And his droop'd head sinks gradually low;

And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow
From the red gash, fall heavily, one by one,
Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now
The arena swims around him: he is gone,
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the
wretch who won.

He heard it, but he heeded not his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away.
He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize,
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians all at play,
There was their Dacian mother-he, their sire,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holyday:

All this rush'd with his blood. Shall he expire, And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!

MURAT.

AND thou, too, of the snow-white plume!
Whose realm refused thee ev'n a tomb;
Little didst thou deem, when dashing
On thy war-horse through the ranks
Like a stream which burst its banks,
While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,
Shone and shiver'd fast around thee,
Of the fate at last which found thee:
Was that haughty plume laid low
By a slave's dishonest blow?

Once, as the moon sways o'er the tide,
It roll'd in air, the warrior's guide;
Through the smoke-created night
Of the black and sulphrous fight,
The soldier raised his seeking eye
To catch that crest's ascendancy;
And, as it onward rolling rose,
So moved his heart upon our foes.

There, where death's brief pang was quickest,
And the battle's wreck lay thickest,
Strew'd beneath the advancing banner
Of the eagle's burning crest;
(There, with thunder-clouds to fan her,
Who could then her wing arrest,
Victory beaming from her breast?)
While the broken line enlarging
Fell, or fled along the plain;
There be sure was Murat charging!
There he ne'er shall charge again!

away,

STANZAS.

THERE's not a joy the world can give like that it takes [dull decay; When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, [self be past. But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth it

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck

of happiness

[cess: Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of exThe magnet of their course is gone, or only points [stretch again.

in vain,

The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; [own; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, [ice appears. And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,

Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest;