From clime to clime pursue the scene Where only anchorites have trod In such a far forsaken vale, And such sweet Eldun vale is thine,— Heaven-borrowed thoughts and joys divine; For if the world hath loved thee not, THE HOUR GLASS. THE dust that here, with motion true, The pride of honour, wealth, and power— Proclaiming to each pining breast, That he, who knows the pangs of love, New Monthly Magazine. THE MARRIAGE OF PELEUS AND THETIS. BY BARRY CORNWALL. HIGH placed upon a hill of Thessaly, And, like its diadem, the lightning shines, Pelion! in song renowned and heathen story, When gods and star-bright spirits deigned to stray Or sporting on their heavenly pinions fleet Shook light and fragrance through the noontide air ?— (The nymphs, the gods' especial care) And goddesses and spirits all of mighty name. First sweet Aurora in the morning came- A veil of roses, such as in the Spring Burst into beauty 'fore the sons of May, And many a flower, touched with the rainbow's hue, And this was the coy Thetis' nuptial day— (His line immortal, though from earth his name) (Thessalian Peleus)—'Twas a day of state, Then came the mightiest on his blazing throne The Queen of heaven was there, her braids of jet Her port was majesty—her look was light— And Bacchus, crowned with leaves of vine, Below, below-joyous the woods among And fountains- through the cool and leafy shade Some laughing chased-some 'woke the cheerful song And some that strain to melancholy dear— Some bathed their limbs amidst the waters clear, Or plunged their hands within some secret well, Fearless the Dryads left their sacred trees, For well that day did the rude Fauns behave, And through the morn—the noon-the evening hours," To grace the sea-maid's couch when night should spread ; Formed all of roses white, to deck her head; Some plucked the golden fruits, some rolled amongst the flowers. Still some were wanting; yet as day declined They came then first was heard Favonius' sigh, Wild whispering through the blossoms, as he pined And Cupid, who till then had fluttered far, Blushing, and fretful on the varying wing, And wept to see the Nereids fear, Came wheeling round and round-near and more near— (As doves come homeward in their narrowing ring) And loitering Dian sent her vesper star To tell her coming, and to say, that night She nearer to the Earth would bend her head, And rest a moment on old Pelion's height, And kiss pale Thetis on her bridal bed. And now the nymph was borne along In spotless garments, as became a bride, His head was laurelled, and his eyes of fire Stained with the murex' matchless hue, (This the rude fisher found, who wont to rove, Seeking for bright shells through the seas of Tyre). Now was the altar won, And that sweet rite begun Mysterious that unites in awful chain Hearts that none may part again. Bright was the flame, and holy that arose, (Favonius, who at evening blows, And stirs the laurel on Parnassus' side): All was propitious. Soon amidst the throng Through all the caves on Pelion's side Burst; and then (diminished) died :— Standing beside the altar green; Before his feet the votive wreaths were flung, And wildly sweet the hymn-his hymn-by kneeling virgins sung. And midnight came, and all the gods departed, And nymphs-and left the lovers to repose On pillows of the fresh-blown rose ; The winds were silent, and the waters played No more lest that they should the sea-green maid |