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Of the wood fire, and round his shoulders fall;
And his wan visage and his withered mien
Yet calm and gentle and majestical.

And Athanase, her child, who must have been Then three years old, sate opposite and gazed In patient silence.

FRAGMENT II. Such was Zonoras; and as daylight finds One amaranth glittering on the path of frost, When autumn nights have nipped all weaker

kinds,

Thus through his age, dark, cold, and tempest

tossed, Shone truth upon Zonoras; and he filled From fountains pure, nigh overgrown and lost,

The spirit of Prince Athanase, a child,
With soul-sustaining songs of ancient lore
And philosophic wisdom, clear and mild.

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And sweet and subtle talk they evermore,
The pupil and the master, shared; until,
Sharing that undiminishable store,

The youth, as shadows on a grassy hill
Outrun the winds that chase them, soon outran
His teacher, and did teach with native skill

Strange truths and new to that experienced man; Still they were friends, as few have ever been Who mark the extremes of life's discordant.

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So in the caverns of the forest green,
Or by the rocks of echoing ocean hoar,
Zonoras and Prince Athanase were seen

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By summer woodmen; and, when winter's

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Sounded o’er earth and sea its blast of war,
The Balearic fisher, driven from shore,

Hanging upon the peakèd wave afar,
Then saw their lamp from Laian's turret gleam,
Piercing the stormy darkness like a star,

Which pours beyond the sea one steadfast beam,
Whilst all the constellations of the sky
Seemed reeling through the storm. They did
but seem-

30 For, lo! the wintry clouds are all gone by, And bright Arcturus through yon pines is

glowing, And far o'er southern waves, immovably

Belted Orion hangs—warm light is flowing From the young moon into the sunset's chasm.O, summer eve! with power divine, bestowing

“ On thine own bird the sweet enthusiasm “ Which overflows in notes of liquid gladness, “ Filling the sky like light! How many a spasm

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“ Of fevered brains, oppressed with grief and

madness, “ Were lulled by thee, delightful nightingale ! And these soft waves, murmuring a gentle

sadness,

“ And the far sighings of yon piny dale “ Made vocal by some wind, we feel not here,“ I bear alone what nothing may avail

“ To lighten--a strange load!”-No human ear Heard this lament; but o'er the visage wan Of Athanase, a ruffling atmosphere

Of dark emotion, a swift shadow ran,
Like wind upon some forest-bosomed lake, 50
Glassy and dark.--And that divine old man

Beheld his mystic friend's whole being shake, Even where its inmost depths were gloomiestAnd with a calm and measured voice he spake,

And with a soft and equal pressure, pressed That cold lean hand:-“ Dost thou remember

yet, “ When the curved moon then lingering in the

west

“ Paused in yon waves her mighty horns to wet, “ How in those beams we walked, half resting on the sea ?

59 “ 'Tis just one year—sure thou dost not forget

“ Then Plato's words of light in thee and me “ Lingered like moonlight in the moonless east, “ For we had just then read--thy memory

“ Is faithful now—the story of the feast; “ And Agathon and Diotima seemed “ From death and dark forgetfulness released.”

FRAGMENT III. 'Twas at the season when the Earth upsprings From slumber, as a spherèd angel's child, Shadowing its eyes with green and golden

wings,

Stands up before its mother bright and mild,
Of whose soft voice the air expectant seems-
So stood before the sun, which shone and smiled

To see it rise thus joyous from its dreams,
The fresh and radiant Earth. The hoary grove
Waxed green--and flowers burst forth like
starry beams;-

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The grass in the warm sun did start and move, And sea-buds burst beneath the waves serene :How many a one, though none be near to love,

Loves then the shade of his own soul, half seen In any mirror-or the spring's young minions, The winged leaves amid the copses green ;

How many a spirit then puts on the pinions Of fancy, and outstrips the lagging blast, And his own steps—and over wide dominions

Sweeps in his dream-drawn chariot, far and fast, More fleet than storms—the wide world shrinks below,

20 When winter and despondency are past.

'Twas at this season that Prince Athanase Passed the white Alps—those eagle-baffling

mountains Slept in their shrouds of snow;-beside the

ways

The waterfalls were voiceless—for their foun

tains Were changed to mines of sunless crystal now, Or by the curdling winds—like brazen wings Which clanged along the mountain's marble

brow, Warped into adamantine fret-work, hung 29 And filled with frozen light the chasm below.

FRAGMENT IV. Thou art the wine whose drunkenness is all We can desire, O Love! and happy souls, Ere from thy vine the leaves of autumn fall, Catch thee, and feed from their o'erflowing

bowls Thousands who thirst for thy ambrosial dew ;Thou art the radiance which where ocean rolls Investest it; and when the heavens are blue Thou fillest them; and when the earth is fair The shadow of thy moving wings imbue Its deserts and its mountains, till they wear 10. Beauty like some bright robe ;—thou ever

soarest Among the towers of men, and as soft air In spring, which moves the unawakened forest, Clothing with leaves its branches bare and bleak. Thou floatest among men; and aye implorest That which from thee they should implore :-

the weak Alone kneel to thee, offering up the hearts The strong have broken--yet where shall any

seek A garment whom thou clothest not ?

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