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mourner,

How beautiful this night! the balmiest
sigh,

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How eloquent are eyes!

How gently slumber rests upon her face,
How, my dear Mary, are you critic-bitten, iv
How stern are the woes of the desolate

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How sweet it is to sit and read the tales
How swiftly through heaven's wide ex-

panse

How wonderful is Death,

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How wonderful is Death,

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I bring fresh showers for the thirsting
flowers,

I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
I dreamed that Milton's spirit rose, and

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I faint, I perish with my love! I grow
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden,

*I had once a lovely dream

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I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan
I loved-alas! our life is love;

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I met a traveller from an antique land
I mourn Adonis dead-loveliest Adonis-
I pant for the music which is divine,
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
I sate beside the steersman then, and
gazing

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I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
I stood within the city disinterred,
I was an infant when my mother went
I weep for Adonais-he is dead!

I went into the deserts of dim sleep-

I would not be a king-enough ;
If gibbets, axes, confiscations, chains,
If I esteemed you less, Envy would kill
*If I walk in Autumn's even

If solitude hath ever led thy steps
In the cave which wild weeds cover
*In the great morning of the world,

In the sweet solitude of this calm place, .

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Inter marmoreas Leonora pendula colles
Is it that in some brighter sphere

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peer

Is not to-day enough? Why do I
*It floats with rainbow pinions o'er the

stream

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It is the day when all the sons of God V
It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, .
It was a bright and cheerful afternoon,

Kissing Helena, together

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Lady, my duty to his Holiness

Let those who pine in pride or in revenge,
*Life of Life! thy lips enkindle

Lift not the painted veil which those who
live

*Listen! listen! he is coming,

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead

Listen, listen, Mary mine,

Lo, Peter in Hell's Grosvenor-square,

Madonna, wherefore hast thou sent to me
Maiden, quench the glare of sorrow
*Maiden, the world's supremest spirit
Many a green isle needs must be
Melodious Arethusa, o'er my verse
Men of England, wherefore plough
*Methought a star came down from heaven,
Methought I was a billow in the crowd
Mighty eagle! thou that soarest

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*Mighty Empress ! Death's white wife!
Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed; .
Monarch of Gods and Dæmons, and all
Spirits

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Month after month the gathered rains
descend.

Moonbeam, leave the shadowy vale,
Most glorious among spirits, thus doth
strength.

Muse, sing the deeds of golden Aphrodite,
Music, when soft voices die,

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*My coursers are fed with the lightning,
My dearest Mary, wherefore hast thou

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My head is heavy, my limbs are weary,
My head is wild with weeping for a grief iv
My lost William, thou in whom

My Song, I fear that thou wilt find but
few

*My song, I fear that thou wilt find but
few

*My soul is an enchanted boat,

My spirit like a charmed bark doth swim
My thoughts arise and fade in solitude; .
*My wings are folded o'er mine ears: .

E PERRE

Night, with all thine eyes look down!
Night! with all thine eyes look down!
No access to the Duke! You have not said iv
No, Music, thou art not the "food of
Love,"

Nor happiness, nor majesty, nor fame,

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O, Bacchus, what a world of toil, both now

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O universal mother, who dost keep

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O, wild West Wind, thou breath of Au-

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*Old winter was gone

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On the brink of the night and the morning iii
Once, early in the morning,

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*Once more descend

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One sung of thee who left the tale untold,

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*One with eyes the fairest

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One word is too often profaned

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Orphan hours, the year is dead,-

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Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream,
Out of the eastern shadow of the Earth,.
Over the utmost hill at length I sped,

Palace-roof of cloudless nights!.
Pan loved his neighbour Echo-but that
child.

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People of England, ye who toil and groan,
*Perhaps the only comfort which remains.
Pervert not truth,

Peter Bells, one, two and three,
Place, for the Marshal of the Mask!
Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know.
Prince Athanase had one beloved friend,

Rarely, rarely, comest thou,

Reach me that handkerchief!-My brain
is hurt; .

Returning from its daily quest, my Spirit
Rome has fallen, ye see it lying.
Rough wind, that moanest loud.

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Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,

See yon opening flower.

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me,

Shall we roam, my love,

*Send the stars light, but send not love to

She comes not; yet I left her even now
She left me at the silent time

She saw me not-she heard me not-alone
She was an agèd woman; and the years.
Silence! O well are Death and Sleep and
Thou.

Silver key of the fountain of tears,
Sing, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove,
Sister, it is not earthly: how it glides
Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;

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So now my summer-task is ended, Mary,
So we sate joyous as the morning ray.
*Soon a crab the throat will seize
*Stars! your balmiest influence shed!.
Such hope, as is the sick despair of good,
Such was Zonoras; and as daylight finds
Summer was dead and Autumn was ex-
piring,

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Sweet Spirit! Sister of that orphan one,.
Sweet star, which gleaming o'er the dark-

some scene.

Swift as a spirit hastening to his task
Swifter far than summer's flight-
Swiftly walk o'er the western wave,

Tell me, thou star, whose wings of light.
Thanks, gentlemen. I heartily accept
That matter of the murder is hushed up
That night we anchored in a woody bay,
That time is dead for ever, child,
*The artist who this idol wrought,

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The awful shadow of some unseen Power
The babe is at peace within the womb,
The billows on the beach are leaping
around it,

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The cold earth slept below,

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The Devil now knew his proper cue.

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The Elements respect their Maker's seal
The everlasting universe of things

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The fierce beasts of the woods and wilder-

nesses

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The fiery mountains answer each other
The fitful alternations of the rain,
The flower that smiles to-day

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The gentleness of rain was in the wind.
The golden gates of Sleep unbar

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*The joy, the triumph, the delight, the

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The odour from the flower is gone.

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