Which, though silent to the ear,
The inchanted heart could hear,

Like notes which die when born, but still
Haunt the echoes of the hill;

And feeling ever-O too much!-
The soft vibration of her touch,
As if her gentle hand, even now,
Lightly trembled on my brow;
And thus, although she absent were,
Memory gave me all of her

That even Fancy dares to claim :

Her presence had made weak and tame
All passions, and I lived alone
In the time which is our own;
The past and future were forgot,

As they had been, and would be, not.
But soon, the guardian angel gone,
The dæmon reassumed his throne
In my faint heart. I dare not speak

My thoughts, but thus disturbed and weak
I sat and saw the vessels glide
Over the ocean bright and wide,
Like spirit-wingèd chariots sent
O'er some serenest element

For ministrations strange and far;
As if to some Elysian star
Sailed for drink to medicine

Such sweet and bitter pain as mine.

And the wind that winged their flight

From the land came fresh and light,

And the scent of wingèd flowers,

And the coolness of the hours

Of dew, and sweet warmth left by day,
Were scattered o'er the twinkling bay.
And the fisher with his lamp
And spear about the low rocks damp
Crept, and struck the fish which came
To worship the delusive flame.

Too happy they, whose pleasure sought
Extinguishes all sense and thought

15

20

25

30

35

40

45

50

Of the regret that pleasure leaves,
Destroying life alone, not peace!

THE ISLE.

THERE was a little lawny islet
By anemone and violet,

Like mosaic, paven:

And its roof was flowers and leaves
Which the summer's breath enweaves,
Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze
Pierce the pines and tallest trees,
Each a gem engraven.

Girt by many an azure wave

With which the clouds and mountains pave A lake's blue chasm.

LINES.

I.

WE meet not as we parted,

We feel more than all may see,

My bosom is heavy-hearted,

And thine full of doubt for me.
One moment has bound the free.

II.

That moment is gone for ever,

Like lightning that flashed and died, Like a snowflake upon the river, Like a sunbeam upon the tide, Which the dark shadows hide.

III.

That moment from time was singled
As the first of a life of pain,
The cup of its joy was mingled
-Delusion too sweet though vain!
Too sweet to be mine again.

1v.

Sweet lips, could my heart have hidden
That its life was crushed by you,
Ye would not have then forbidden
The death which a heart so true
Sought in your briny dew.

V.

Methinks too little cost

For a moment so found, so lost!

FRAGMENT: TO THE MOON.

BRIGHT wanderer, fair coquette of heaven,
To whom alone it has been given.
To change and be adored for ever,
Envy not this dim world, for never
But once within its shadow grew
One fair as-

EPITAPH.

THESE are two friends whose lives were undivided;
So let their memory be, now they have glided
Under the grave; let not their bones be parted,
For their two hearts in life were single-hearted.

.

TRANSLATIONS.

HYMN TO MERCURY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF HOMER

I.

SING, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove,
The Herald-child, king of Arcadia

And all its pastoral hills, whom in sweet love
Having been interwoven, modest May
Bore Heaven's dread Supreme-an antique grove
Shadowed the cavern where the lovers lay
In the deep night, unseen by Gods or Men,
And white-armed Juno slumbered sweetly then.

II.

Now, when the joy of Jove had its fulfilling,
And Heaven's tenth moon chronicled her relief,
She gave to light a babe all babes excelling,
A schemer subtle beyond all belief;

A shepherd of thin dreams, a cow-stealing,

A night-watching, and door-waylaying thief, Who 'mongst the Gods was soon about to thieve, And other glorious actions to achieve.

III.

The babe was born at the first peep of day;
He began playing on the lyre at noon,
And the same evening did he steal away
Apollo's herds;-the fourth day of the moon
On which him bore the venerable May,

From her immortal limbs he leaped full soon,
Nor long could in the sacred cradle keep,
But out to seek Apollo's herds would creep.

IV.

Out of the lofty cavern wandering

He found a tortoise, and cried out-"A treasure!" (For Mercury first made the tortoise sing)

The beast before the portal at his leisure The flowery herbage was depasturing,

Moving his feet in a deliberate measure Over the turf. Jove's profitable son

Eyeing him laughed, and laughing thus begun :

V.

"A useful god-send are you to me now,

King of the dance, companion of the feast, Lovely in all your nature! Welcome, you

Excellent plaything! Where, sweet mountain beast, Got you that speckled shell? Thus much I know, You must come home with me and be my guest; You will give joy to me, and I will do

All that is in my power to honour you.

VI.

"Better to be at home than out of door;

So come with me, and though it has been said. That you alive defend from magic power,

I know you will sing sweetly when you're dead." Thus having spoken, the quaint infant bore, Lifting it from the grass on which it fed, And grasping it in his delighted hold, His treasured prize into the cavern old.

VII.

Then scooping with a chisel of grey steel,

He bored the life and soul out of the beast-
Not swifter a swift thought of woe or weal
Darts through the tumult of a human breast
Which thronging cares annoy-not swifter wheel
The flashes of its torture and unrest

Out of the dizzy eyes-than Maia's son
All that he did devise hath featly done.

VIII.

And through the tortoise's hard stony skin
At proper distances small holes he made,
And fastened the cut stems of reeds within