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THE LAST WISH.

Go to the forest shade,

Seek thou the well-known glade, Where heavy with sweet dew the violets lie, Gleaming through moss-tufts deep, Like dark eyes filled with sleep, And bathed in dews of summer's midnight sky.

Bring me those buds to shed

Around my dying head

A breath of May and of the wood's repose:
For I in sooth depart

With a reluctant heart,

That fain would linger where the bright sun glows.

Fain would I stay with thee,

Alas! this must not be ;

Yet bring me still those gifts of happier hours!
Go where the fountain's breast

Catches in glassy rest

The dim green light that pours through laurel bowers.

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THE LAST WISH.

I know how softly bright,

Steeped in that tender light,

The water-lilies tremble there e'en now;

Go to the pure stream's edge,

And from its whispering sedge

Bring me those flowers to cool my fever'd brow.

Then as in Hope's young days,

Track thou the antique maze
Of the rich garden to its grassy mound;
There is a lone white rose

Shedding its sudden snows,

Its faint leaves o'er the emerald turf around.

Well know'st thou that fair tree—

A murmur of the bee

Dwells ever in the honied lime above:
Bring me one pearly flower

Of all its clustering shower-
For on that spot we first revealed our love.

Gather one woodbine bough

There from the lattice low

Of the bower'd cottage which I bade thee mark, When by the hamlet last

Through dim wood-lanes we pass'd,

While dews were glancing to the glow-worm's spark.

THE LAST WISH.

Haste, to my pillow bear

Those fragrant things and fair:

My hand no more may bind them up at eve—
Yet shall their odour soft

One bright dream round me waft

Of life, youth, summer,-all that I must leave!

And ah! if thou would'st ask
Wherefore thy steps I task,

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The grove, the stream, the hamlet-vale to trace— 'Tis that some thought of me,

When I am gone may be

The spirit-bond to each familiar place.

I bid my image dwell

(Oh! break not thou the spell !) In the deep wood, and by the fountain side; Thou must not, my beloved,

Rove where we two have roved,

Forgetting her that in her spring-time died!

Mrs. Hemans.

Had risen and closed and many a week gone round,
And many a realm and region had they passed,
When now the ancient towers appeared at last.
Their golden summits, in the noon-day light
Shone o'er the dark green deep that rolled between ;
For domes, and pinnacles, and spires were seen
Peering above the sea . . . a mournful sight!
Well might the sad beholder ween from thence
What works of wonder the devouring wave
Had swallowed there, when monuments so brave
Bore record of their old magnificence.
And on the sandy shore, beside the verge
Of Ocean, here and there, a rock-hewn fane
Resisted in its strength the surf and surge
That on their deep foundations beat in vain.
In solitude the Ancient temples stood,
Once resonant with instrument and song,
And solemn dance of festive multitude;
Now as the weary ages pass along,

THE CURSE OF KEHAMA.

Hearing no voice save of the Ocean flood,
Which roars for ever on the restless ores;
Or, visiting their solitary caves,

The lonely sound of Winds, that moan around
Accordant to the melancholy waves.

With reverence did the travellers see

The works of ancient days, and silently
Approach the shore. Now on the yellow sand,
Where round their feet the rising surges part,
They stand. Ladurlad's heart

Exulted in his wondrous destiny.

To Heaven he raised his hand

In attitude of stern heroic pride;

Oh what a power, he cried,

The dreadful Rajah, doth thy Curse impart !

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Meantime the flood

I thank thee now ! . . . Then turning to the Maid,
Thou see'st how far and wide
Yon Towers extend, he said,
My search must needs be long.
Will cast thee up thy food, . . .
And in the Chambers of the Rock by night,
Take thou thy safe abode.

No prowling beast to harm thee, or affright,
Can enter there; but wrap thyself with care
From the foul Bird obscene that thirsts for blood;
For in such caverns doth the Bat delight