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never, oh never more shall we behold thee, the last spark dies upon the sacred hearth: art thou less lost, though heavenly arms enfold theeart thou less lost to earth?

slow swells the sorrowing Naenia's chaunted strain, time with slow flutes our leaden footsteps keep; sad earth, whate'er the happier heaven may gain, hath but a loss to weep.

EDWARD LORD LYTTON.

Wanderer's Nachtlied.

GENTLE Peace, whose wand of power
lulls to slumber woe and pain,
in affliction's sternest hour

thou canst soothe the wildered brain.

here I wander, tempest-driven,

seeking comfort, seeking rest;

child of Heaven,

glide, o glide into my breast!

From GOETHE.

A Message in Spring.

EARLY wast thou taken, Mary,

in thy fair and glorious prime,
ere the bees had ceased to murmur
'neath the umbrage of the lime.

buds were blowing; streams were flowing;
birds were singing on the tree;
everything was bright and glowing,
when the angels came for thee.

AYTOUN.

perenne regnum: nos tamen interim
te flemus eheu, dulce caput, die
nullo reuisendum; supremus

ille sacrae perit ignis arae.

caelum recepta gaudeat: an minus
te terra raptam maeret? in aethera
surgit sepulchrali tenore

naenia flebiliter canentum

cum tibiarum flamine plumbeos
regente passus. quidquid habet lucri
fortuna caelestum, fugaces
delicias gemit orba tellus.

Quies.

CAELI progenies, malas

delenire potens sollicitudines,

et quo mens magis angitur,

maiorem miserae semper opem ferens,

me tot respice taediis

fessum: quid faciunt omnia luctubus alternantia gaudia ?

o subrepe meo, grata Quies, sinu.

Ver illud erat.

ANTE diem sublata fuit tua candida forma, ante diem uitae gloria prima tuae, cum non desierat tiliae fragrante sub umbra mille recursantum feruere murmur apum. gemma tumescebat labentibus adsita lymphis, quolibet in ramo laeta canebat auis; omnia fulgebant opulenta luce, Maria, te sibi caelestum cum petiere chori.

Melody.

How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, and sunbeams melt along the silent sea! for then sweet dreams of other days arise, and memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. and as I watch the line of light that plays

along the smooth wave toward the burning west, I long to tread that golden path of rays,

and think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.

The Recall.

MOORE.

COME again, come again!
sunshine cometh after rain.
as a lamp fed newly burneth,
pleasure, who doth fly, returneth,
scattering every cloud of pain.

as the year, which dies in showers,
riseth in a world of flowers,

called by many a vernal strain,

come thou, for whom tears were falling, and a thousand tongues are calling;

come again, oh come again!

like the sunshine after rain.

PROCTER.

Wishes.

SWEET be her dreams, the fair, the young ;
grace, beauty, breathe upon her;
music, haunt thou about her tongue;
life, fill her path with honour.

all golden thoughts, all wealth of days,
truth, friendship, love surround her;
so may she smile till life be closed,
and angel-hands have crowned her.

PROCTER.

Quid Vesper serus uehat.

OCCIDVI quam grata mihi redit hora diei, cum iubar in tacito liquitur omne salo! somnia tum reuocant exactos dulcia soles, teque gemens recolo uespere, noster amor : dumque mihi tremula freta leuia luce recedunt usque sub Hesperia qua rubet unda face, mens auet aurato uestigia ponere tractu, inque locos laetos rapta quiete frui.

Dulces Reditus.

REDI, redi tu; redditur sol imbribus peractis. ut lampas ignibus nouis redintegrata flagrat, sic dissipatis nubibus fugax redit uoluptas. ut, inter imbres qui cadit, nouus resurgit annus ueris uocante florei canore, sic redi tu,

tot flete nuper lacrimis, tot iam uocate linguis. redi, redi nunc, ut redit sol imbribus fugatis.

Cane uota libens.

SVAVIA lacteolae sint somnia uirginis; illi Gratia purpureum spiret in ora decus; impleat arguta linguam dulcedine Musa; uita uerecundam ditet honore uiam. cogitet, optet, agat faustum quodcumque; fideli possit amicitia, possit amore frui.

rideat, exacto laetae dum munere lucis cinxerit ambrosium dia corona caput.

The World's Wanderers.

TELL me, thou Star, whose wings of light
speed thee in thy fiery flight,
in what cavern of the night

will thy pinions close now?
tell me, Moon, thou pale and grey
pilgrim of heaven's homeless way,
in what depth of night or day
seekest thou repose now?

weary Wind, who wanderest
like the world's rejected guest,

hast thou still some secret nest

on the tree or billow?

SHELLEY.

Ilias.

Immer zerreißet den Kranz des Homers, und zählet die Väter des vollendeten ewigen Werks;

hat es doch Eine Mutter nur, und die Züge der Mutter, deine unsterblichen Züge, Natur.

SCHILLER.

The Silent Look.

INTO my heart a silent look
flashed from thy careless eyes,
and what before was shadow, took
the light of summer skies.

the first-born love was in that look:
the Venus rose from out the deep

of those inspiring eyes.

EDWARD LORD LYTTON.

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