Thy flame is blown abroad from all the heights,

Through all the nations, and a sound is

heard,

As of a mighty wind, and men devout, Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, In their own language hear thy wondrous word,

And many are amazed and many doubt.

NOËL

ENVOYÉ À M. AGASSIZ, LA VEILLE DE NOËL 1864, AVEC UN PANIER DE VINS DIVERS

The basket of wine which Mr. Longfellow sent to his friend with these verses was accompanied by the following note: "A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all the house of Agassiz! I send also six good wishes in the shape of bottles. Or is it wine? It is both; good wine and good wishes and kind memories of you on this Christmas Eve."

A translation of the verses was printed by Mr. John E. Norcross of Philadelphia in a brochure, 1867. L'Académie en respect, Nonobstant l'incorrection A la faveur du sujet,

Ture-lure,

N'y fera point de rature;
Noel! ture-lure-lure.

GUI BARÔZAL.

QUAND les astres de Noël
Brillaient, palpitaient au ciel,
Six gaillards, et chacun ivre,
Chantaient gaîment dans le givre,
"Bons amis,

Allons donc chez Agassiz!"

Ces illustres Pèlerins
D'Outre-Mer adroits et fins,
Se donnant des airs de prêtre,
A l'envi se vantaient d'être
"Bons amis
De Jean Rudolphe Agassiz!"

Eil-de-Perdrix, grand farceur,
Sans reproche et sans pudeur,
Dans son patois de Bourgogne,
Bredouillait comme un ivrogne,
"Bons amis,

J'ai dansé chez Agassiz!"

Verzenay le Champenois,
Bon Français, point New-Yorquois,
Mais des environs d'Avize,
Fredonne à mainte reprise,
"Bons amis,

J'ai chanté chez Agassiz!"

À côté marchait un vieux Hidalgo, mais non mousseux ; Dans le temps de Charlemagne Fut son père Grand d'Espagne ! "Bons amis,

J'ai diné chez Agassiz!"

Derrière eux un Bordelais,
Gascon, s'il en fut jamais,
Parfumé de poésie

Riait, chantait, plein de vie,
"Bons amis,

J'ai soupé chez Agassiz!"

Avec ce beau cadet roux,
Bras dessus et bras dessous,
Mine altière et couleur terne,
Vint le Sire de Sauterne;
"Bons amis,

J'ai couché chez Agassiz!"

Mais le dernier de ces preux, Etait un pauvre Chartreux, Qui disait, d'un ton robuste,

"Bénédictions sur le Juste ! Bons amis,

Bénissons Père Agassiz!"

Ils arrivent trois à trois,
Montent l'escalier de bois
Clopin-clopant! quel gendarme
Peut permettre ce vacarine,
Bons amis,

A la porte d'Agassiz!

"Ouvrez donc, mon bon Seigneur, Ouvrez vite et n'ayez peur ; Ouvrez, ouvrez, car nous sommes Gens de bien et gentilshommes, Bons amis

De la famille Agassiz!"

Chut, ganaches! taisez-vous !
C'en est trop de vos glouglous;
Epargnez aux Philosophes
Vos abominables strophes !
Bons amis,

Respectez mon Agassiz!

The title poem in the volume, The Masque of Pandora and other Poems, published in 1875. It was adapt ed for the stage, and set to music by Alfred Cellier, and was brought out in an adaptation by Bolton Rowe at the Boston Theatre in 1881. Mr. Longfellow wrote for Miss Blanche Roosevelt, who was principally concerned in putting it on the stage, and who took the part of Pandora, the following song and chorus:

What place is this? Oh tell me, I implore!
Tell me what I am feeling, hearing, seeing;
If this be life, oh give me more and more.
Till I am filled with the delight of being.

What forms mysterious people this dark space?
What voices and what sounds of music greet me?
And who are these, so fair in form and face,
That with such gracious welcome come to meet me?

She came to high Olympus, and the gods Paid homage to her beauty. Thus her hair Was cinctured; thus her floating drapery Was like a cloud about her, and her face Was radiant with the sunshine and the sea.

THE VOICE OF ZEUS.

Is thy work done, Hephæstus?

HEPHAESTUS.

It is finished!

THE VOICE.

Not finished till I breathe the breath of life Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks.

HEPHÆSTUS.

Will she become immortal like ourselves?

THE VOICE.

The form that thou hast fashioned out of clay

Is of the earth and mortal; but the spirit,
The life, the exhalation of my breath,
Is of diviner essence and immortal.
The gods shall shower on her their benefac
tions,

She shall possess all gifts: the gift of song,
The gift of eloquence, the gift of beauty,
The fascination and the nameless charm
That shall lead all men captive.

HEPHÆSTUS.

Wherefore? wherefore?

A wind shakes the house.

I hear the rushing of a mighty wind Through all the halls and chambers of my

house !