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Even in his outcast hour, when curst, Into whose inward soul and sense By her fond witchery, with that worst I might descend, as doth the bee

And earliest boon of love-the grave! Into the flower's deep heart, and thence She, who brought death into the world, Rifle, in all its purity,

There stood before him, with the light The prime, the quintessence, the whole

Of their lost Paradise still bright Of wondrous Woman's frame and soul ! Upon those sunny locks, that curled Down her white shoulders to her feet At length, my burning wish, my prayer So beautiful in form, so sweet

(For such-oh, what will tongues not Iu heart and voice, as to redeem

dare, The loss, the death of all things dear, When hearts go wrong ?-this lip pre. Except herself—and make it seem

ferred)— Life, endless life, while she was near! At length my ominous prayer was Could I help wondering at a creature, heard Enchanted round with spells so But whether heard in heaven or hell, strong

Listen and thou wilt know too well. One, to whose every thought, word, feature,

There was a maid, of all who move In joy and woe, through right and Like visions o'er this orb, most fit wrong,

To be a bright young angel's love, Such sweet omnipotence Heaven gave, Herself so bright, so exquisite ! To bless or ruin, curse or save ? The pride, too, of her step, as light

Alongthe unconscious earth she went, Nor did the marvel cease with her- Seemed that of one born with a right

New Eves in all her daughters came, To walk some heavenlier element, As strong to charm, as weak to err, And tread in places where her feet As sure of man through praise and A star at every step should meet. blame,

'Twas not alone that loveliness Whate'er they brought him, pride or By which the wildered sense is shame,

caught-Their still unreasoning worsiupper- Of lips whose very breath could blessAnd, wheresoe'er they smiled, the Of playful blushes, that seemed nought

But luminous escapes of thoughtEnchantresses of soul and frame, Of eyes that, when by anger stirred, Into whose hands, from first to last, Were fire itself, but, at a word

This world, with all its destinies, Of tenderness, all soft became, Devotedly by Heaven seems cast, Asthough they could, likethe sun's bird,

To save or damn it as they please! Dissolve away in their own flameOh, 'tis not to be told how long, Of form, as pliant as the shoots

How restlessly I sighed to find Of a young tree in vernal power; Some one from out that shining throng, Yet round and glowing as the fruits

Some abstract of the form and mind That drop from it in summer's hourOf the whole matchless sex, from which, 'Twas not alone this loveliness

In my own arms beheld, possessed, That falls to loveliest woman's share, I might learn all the powers to witch, Though even here herform could spare To warm,

and (if my fate unblessed From its own beauty's rich excess Would have it) ruin, of the rest ! Enough to make all others fair

same

contradictions and perplexities which men ex. discussion, equally to his taste, in Gataker's perience from women in this life.

whimsical dissertation upon Eve's knowledge of It is rather strange that these two instances of the texvn údartıkn, and upon the notion of perverse commentatorship should have escaped Epiphanius, that it was taught her in a special the researches of Bayle, in his curious article upon revelation from heaven.-Miscellan, lib. ii. cap. 3, Eve. He would have found another subject of p. 200.

But 'twas the Mind, sparkling about Light, winged hopes, that come when Through her whole frame-the soul

bid, brought out

And rainbow joys that end in weeping, To light each charm, yet independent And passions among pure thoughts hid, Of what it lighted, as the sun

Like serpents under flowerets sleepThat shines on flowers, would be re- ingsplendent

'Mong all these feelings, felt where'er Were there no flowers to shine upon-Young hearts are beating, I saw there 'Twas this, all this in one combined, Proud thoughts, aspirings high-beyond The unnumbered looks and arts that Whate'er yet dwelt in soul so fondform

Glimpses of glory, far away The glory of young womankind

Into the bright vague future given, Takeu in their first fusion, warm, And fancies free and grand, whose play,

Ere time had chilled a single charm, Like that of eaglets, is near heaven! And stamped with such a seal of Mind, With this, too—what a soul and heart

As gave to beauties, that might be To fall beneath the tempter's art !Too sensual else, too unrefined, A zeal for knowledge, such as ne'er The impress of divinity!

Enshrined itself in form so fair,

Since that first fatal hour when Eve, 'Twas this-a union, which the hand

With every fruit of Eden blessed, Of Nature kept for her alone,

Save only one, rather than leave Of everything most playful, bland,

That one unknown, lost all the rest. Voluptuous, spiritual, grand,

In angel-natures and her own- It was in dreams that first I stole Oh! this it was that drew me nigh With gentle mastery o'er her mindOne who seemed kin to Heaven as I, In that rich twilight of the soul, My bright twin sister of the sky, When Reason's beam, half hid behind One in whose love, I felt, were given The clouds of sense, obscurely gilds

The mixed delights of either sphere, Each shadowy shape that Fancy All that the spirit seeks in heaven,

buildsAnd all the senses burn for here! 'Twas then, by that soft light, I brought Had we-but hold-hear every part

Vague, glimmering visions to her Of our sad tale, spite of the pain

Catches of radiance, lost when caught, Remembrancegives, when the fixed dart Is stirred thus in the wound again—Bright labyrinths that led to nought,

And vistas with a void seen through Hear every step, so full of bliss, And yet so ruinous, that led

Dwellings of bliss, that opening shone, Down to the last dark precipice,

Then closed, dissolved, and left no

traceWhere perished both-the fallen, the All that, in short, could tempt Hope on,

dead! From the first hour she caught my sight, Myself

the while, with brow as yet

But give her wing no resting-place; I never left her-day and night

Pure as the young moon's coronet,
Hovering unseen around her way,
And’mid her loneliest musings near,

Through every dream still in her sight,

The enchanter of each mocking scene, I soon could track each thought that lay who gave the hope, then brought the

Gleaming within her heart, as clear
As pebbles within brooks appear;

blight, And there, among the countless things

Who said, 'Behold yon world of light !' That keep young hearts for ever

Then sudden dropped a veil between. glowing

At length, when I perceived each Vague wishes, fond imaginings,

thought, Love-dreams, as yet no object know. Waking or sleeping, fixed on nought ing

But these illusive scenes, and me,

view

The phantom, who thus came and went, Why do I ever lose thee ! why-
In half revealments, only meant

When on thy realms and thee I gazeTo madden curiosity

Still drops that veil, which I could die, When by such various arts I found Oh gladly, but one hour to raise ? Her fancy to its utmost wound, One night--'twas in a holy spot,

Long ere such miracles as thou Which she for prayer had chosen-a

And thine came o'er my thoughts, a

thirst grot Of purest marble, built below

For light was in this soul, which now Her garden beds, through which a glow Thy looks have into passion nursed. From lamps invisible then stole, Brightly pervading all the place

There's nothing bright above, below, Like that mysterious light the soul,

In sky- earth - ocean, that this

breast Itself unseen, sheds through the face

Doth not intensely burn to know, There, at her altar while she knelt,

And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest! And all that woman ever felt, When God and man both claimed Then come, oh Spirit, from behind her sighs

The curtains of thy radiant home,

Whether thou wouldst as God be Every warm thought that ever dwelt, Like summer clouds, 'twixt earth

shrined, and skies,

Or loved and clasped as mortal, come! Too pure to fall, too gross to rise, Spokein her gestures, tones, and eyes,

Bring all thy dazzling wonders here, Then as the mystic light's soft ray

That I may waking know and see ; Grew softer still , as though its ray

Or waft me hence to thy own sphere, Was breathed from her, I heard her

Thy heaven or--ay, even that with

thee ! say :Oh, idol of my dreams ! whate'er Demon or God, who hold'st the book

Thy nature be-human, divine, Of knowledge spread beneath thine Or but half heavenlyl-still too fair, eye, Too heavenly to be ever mine !

Give me, with thée, but one bright look

Into its leaves, and let me die
Wonderful Spirit, who dost make
Slumber so lovely that it seems By those ethereal wings, whose

way No longer life to live awake,

Lies through an element, so fraught Since Heaven itself descends in With floating Mind, that, as they play, dreams.

Their

every movement is a thought !

1 In an article upon the Fathers, which ap- sylphs and gnomes, and that at this moment we peared some years since in the Edinburgh Review might have wanted Pope's most exquisite poem, (No. xlvii.), and of which I have made some little if the version of the Lxx. had translated the use in these notes (having that claim over it-as Book of Genesis correctly.'

quiddam notum propriumque'--which Lucretius The following is one among many passages gives to the cow over the calf), there is the which may be adduced from the Comte de following remark : The belief of an intercourse Gabalis, in confirmation of this remark :-Ces between angels and women, founded upon a false enfans du ciel engendrèrent les géans fameur. version of a text in Genesis, is one of those ex- s'étant fait aimer aux filles des hommes ; et les travagant notions of St. Justin and other Fathers, mauvais cabalistes Joseph et Philo (comine tous which show how little they had yet purified les Juifs sont ignorans), et après eux tous les themselves from the grossness of heathen my. autcurs que j'ai nommés tout à l'heure, ont dit thology, and in how many respects their heaven que c'étoit des anges, et u'ont pas su que c'était was but Olympus with other names. Yet we can les sylphes et les autres peuples des élémens.qui, hardly be angry with them for this one error, suus le nom d'enfans d'Eloim, sont distingués des when we recollect that possibly to their en enfans des hommes.'--See Entret, Second. amoured angels we owe the fanciful world of

By that most precious hair, between Midway in some enthusiast's song,

Whose golden clusters the sweet wind Breaking beneath a touch too strongOf Paradise so late hath been,

While the clenched hand upon the brow And left its fragrant soul behind ! Told how remembrance throbbed there

now; By those impassioned eyes, that melt

But soon 'twas o'er-that casual blaze Their light into the inmost heart,

From the sunk fire of other days, Like sunset in the waters, felt

That relic of a flame, whose burning As molten fire through every part, Had been too fierce to be relumed, I do implore thee, oh most bright Soon passed away, and the youth,

And worshipped Spirit, shine but o'er turning My waking wondering eyes this night, To his bright listeners, thus re. This one blest night-I ask no more

sumed :Exhausted, breathless, as she said Days, months elapsed, and, though what These burning words, her languid head most Upon the altar's steps she cast,

On earth I sighed for was mine, all, As if that brain-throb were its last- Yet-was I happy ? God, thou know'st Till, startled by the breathing, nigh, Howe'er they smile, and feign, and Of lips, that echoed back her sigh,

boast, Sudden her brow again she raised, What happiness is theirs, who fall!

And there, just lighted on the shrine, 'Twas bitterest anguish--made morc Beheld me-not as I had blazed

keen Around her, full of light divine, Even by the love, the bliss, between In her late dreams, but softened down Whose throbs it came, like gleams of Into more mortal grace-my crown

hell
Of flowers, too radiant for this world, In agonizing cross-light given

Left hanging on yon starry steep; Athwart the glimpses they who dwell
My wings shut up, like banners furled, In purgatory catch of heaven!
When Peace hath put their pomp to The only feeling that to me
sleep;

Seemed joy, or rather my sole rest
Or like autumnal clouds, that keep From aching misery, was to see
Their lightnings sheathed, rather than My young, proud, blooming Lilis

blest The dawning hour of some young star- She, the fair fountain of all ill And nothing left but what beseemed To my lost soul-whom yet its thirst

The accessible, though glorious mate Fervently panted after still, Of mortal woman-whose eyes beamed And found the charm fresh as at Back upon hers, as passionate :

first! Whose ready heart brought flame for To see her happy—to reflect flame,

Whatever beams still round meplayed Whose sin, whose madness was the same, Of former pride, of glory wrecked, And whose soul lost, in that one hour, On her, my Moon, whose light I made,

For her and for her love-oh more And whose soul worshipped even my Of Heaven's light than even the power

shadeOf Heaven itself could now restore ! This was, I own, enjoyment-this

My sole, last lingering glimpse of bliss. And yet that hour !

And proud she was, bright creature !The Spirit here proud, Stopped in his utterance, as if words Beyond what even most queenly stirs Gave way beneath the wild career In woman's heart, nor would have Of his then rushing thoughts-like bowed chords,

That beautiful young brow of hers

mar

2

To aught beneath the First above, And made to light the conquering way So high she deemed her Cherub's love ! Of proud young Beauty with their ray. Then, too, that passion, hourly growing Then, too, the pearl from out its shell, Stronger and stronger--to which even

Unsightly in the sunless sea Her love, at times, gave way—of know- (As 'twere å spirit forced to dwell ing

In form unlovely), was set free, Everything strange in earth and hea. And round the neck of woman threw ven;

A light it lent and borrowed too. Not only what God loves to show,

For never did this maid, whate'er But all that He hath sealed below The ambition of the hour, forget In darkness for man not to know

Her sex's pride in being fair, Even this desire, alas, ill-starred Nor that adornment, tasteful, rare, And fatal as it was, I sought

Which makes the mighty magnet, set To feed each minute, and unbarred In Woman's form, more mighty yet.

Such realms of wonder on her thought, As ne'er, till then, had let their light Nor was there aught within the range Escape on any mortal's sight!

Of my swift wing in sea or air, In the deep earth-beneath the sea Of beautiful, or grand, or strange, Through caves of fire-through wilds That, quickly as her wish could change, of air

I did not seek with such fond care, Wherever sleeping Mystery

That when I've seen her look above Had spread her curtain, we were At some bright star admiringly, there

I've said, 'Nay, look not there, my love, Love still beside us, as we went,

Alas, I cannot give it thee ! ?3
At home in each new element,
And sure of worship everywhere!

But not alone the wonders found
Then first was Nature taught to lay Through Nature's realm—the un-

The wealth of all her kingdoms down veiled, material,
At woman's worshipped feet, and say, Visible glories that hang round,

Bright creature, this is all thine Like lights, through her enchanted own !'

groundThen first were diamonds caught1_ like But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal, eyes

Dwells far away from human sense, Shining in darkness-by surprise, Wrapped in its own intelligence

i Tertullian traces all the chief luxuries of quibus monilia variantur, et circulos ex auro female attire, the necklaces, armlets, rouge, and quibus brachia arctantur ; et medicamenta ex the black powder for the eye-lashes, to the re- tuco, quibus lanæ colorantur, et illum ipsum searches of these fallen angels into the inmost nigrum pulverem, quo oculorum exordia prorecesses of nature, and the discoveries they were

ducuntur.'- De Habitu Mulieb, cap. 2.--See him in consequence enabled to make of all that could also, De Cultu Foem. cap. 10. enbellish the beauty of their earthly favourites. 2 The same figure, as applicd to female attracThe passage is so remarkable that I shall give it tions, occurs in a singular passage of St. Basil, of entire :-‘Nam et illi qui ea constituerant, dam which the following is the conclusion :- Alamy nati in pαnam mortis deputantur: illi scilicet | ενoυσαν κατα του αρρενος αυτης φυσικην δυνασangeli, qui ad filias hominum de celo ruerunt, | τειαν, ως σιδηρος, φημι, πορρωθεν μαγνετις, ut hæc quoque ignominia fæminæ accedat. Nam TOUTO tpos avtov payyavevl. - De Vera Vir. cum et materias quasdam bene occultas et artes ginitat. tom. i. p. 727. It is but fair, however, to plerasque non bene revelatas, sæculo multo add, that Hermant, the biographer of Pasil, has magis imperito prodidissent (siquidem et metal-pronounced this most unsanctified treatise to be lorum opera nudaverant, et herbarum ingenia spurious. traduxerant et incantationum vires provulgave. 3 I am aware that this happy saying of Lord rant, et omnem curiositatem usque ad stellarum Albemarle's loses much of its grace and playful. interpretationem designaverant) proprie et quasi ness by being put into the mouth of any but a peculiariter fæminis instrumentum istud mulie- human lover. bris gloriæ contulerunt: lumina lapillorum

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