In nature's loveliness like thine,

And wore that clear, celestial sign,

Which seems to mark the brow that's fair

For destiny's peculiar care!

Whose bosom too was once a zone,

Where the bright gem of virtue shone;

Whose eyes were talismans of fire

Against the spell of man's desire!

Yet, hapless girl, in one sad hour,
Her charms have shed their radiant flower;
The gem has been beguil'd away;

Her eyes have lost their chastening ray;
The simple fear, the guiltless shame,
The smiles that from reflection came,
All, all have fled, and left her mind
A faded monument behind!

Like some wave-beaten, mouldering stone,
To memory rais'd by hands unknown,
Which, many a wintry hour, has stood
Beside the ford of Tyra's flood,
To tell the traveller, as he crost,

That there some loved friend was lost!
Oh! 'twas a sight I wept to see-
Heaven keep the lost-one's fate from thee!

M M

ΤΟ

'Tis time, I feel, to leave thee now,
While yet my soul is something free;
While yet those dangerous eyes allow
One moment's thought to stray from thee !

Oh! thou art every instant dearer—

Every chance that brings me nigh thee, Brings my ruin nearer, nearer,

I am lost, unless I fly thee!

Nay, if thou dost not scorn and hate me,
Wish me not so soon to fall,

Duties, fame and hopes await me,

Oh! that eye would blast them all!

Yes, yes, it would-for thou'rt as cold
As ever yet allur'd or sway'd,
And would'st, without a sigh, behold
The ruin which thyself had made!

Yet-could I think that, truly fond,
That eye
but once would smile on me,
Good heaven! how much, how far beyond
Fame, duty, hope that smile would be!

Oh! but to win it, night and day,
Inglorious at thy feet reclin'd,
I'd sigh my dreams of fame away,
The world for thee forgot, resign'd!

But no, no, no-farewell-we part,
Never to meet, no, never, never-
Oh woman! what a mind and heart

Thy coldness has undone for ever!

FROM

THE HIGH-PRIEST OF APOLLO

ΤΟ

A VIRGIN OF DELPHI'.

CUM DIGNO DIGNA......

Sulpicia.

но

WHO is the maid, with golden hair,
"With eyes of fire and feet of air,
"Whose harp around my altar swells,
"The sweetest of a thousand shells?"

any

fair

This poem requires a little explanation. It is well known that, in the ancient temples, whenever a reverend priest, like the supposed author of the invitation before us, was inspired with a tender inclination towards visitor of the shrine, and, at the same time, felt a diffidence in his own powers of persuasion, he had but to proclaim that the God himself was enamoured of her, and had signified his divine will that she should sleep in the interior of

"Twas thus the deity, who treads
The arch of heaven, and grandly sheds
Day from his eye-lids!—thus he spoke,
As through my cell his glories broke.

"Who is the maid, with golden hair,
"With eyes of fire and feet of air,
“Whose harp around my altar swells,
"The sweetest of a thousand shells?"

Aphelia is the Delphic fair2,

With eyes of fire and golden hair,

the temple. Many a pious husband connived at this divine assignation, and even declared himself proud of the selection, with which his family had been distinguished by the deity. In the temple of Jupiter Belus there was a splendid bed for these occasions. In Egyptian Thebes the same mockery was practised, and at the oracle of Patara in Lycia, the priestess never could prophesy till an interview with the deity was allowed her. The story which we read in Josephus (Lib. xviii. cap. 3) of the Roman matron Paulina, whom the priests of Isis, for a bribe, betrayed in this manner to Mundus, is a singular instance of the impudent excess to which credulity suffered these impostures to be carried. This story has been put into the form of a little novel, under the name of "La Pudicitia Schernita," by the licentious and unfortunate Pallavicino. See his Opere Scelte, Tom. i. I have made my priest here prefer a cave to the temple.

2 In the 9th Pythic of Pindar, where Apollo, in the same manner, requires of Chiron some information respecting the fair Cyrene, the Centaur, in obeying,