"Yet suns shall perish

stars shall fade away Day into darkness - darkness into death

Death into silence; the warm light of day,

The blooms of summer, the rich glowing breath Of even all shall wither and decay,

Like the frail furniture of dreams beneath
The touch of morn or bubbles of rich dyes
That break and vanish in the aching eyes."

They hear, soul-blushing, and repentant shed
Unwholesome thoughts in wholesome tears, and pour
Their sin to earth,— and with low drooping head
Receive the solemn blessing, and implore
Its grace then soberly, with chastened tread,
They meekly press towards the gusty door,
With humbled eyes that go to graze upon
The lowly grass-like him of Babylon.
The lowly grass!-O, water-constant mind!
Fast-ebbing holiness! -soon-fading grace
Of serious thought, as if the gushing wind
Through the low porch had washed it from the face
Forever! How they lift their eyes to find

--

Old vanities! Pride wins the very place
Of meekness, like a bird, and flutters now
With idle wings on the curl-conscious brow!

And, lo! with eager looks they seek the way
Of old temptation at the lowly gate;

To feast on feathers, and on vain array,

And painted cheeks, and the rich glistering state Of jewel-sprinkled locks. But where are they,

The graceless haughty ones that used to wait With lofty neck, and nods, and stiffened eye? None challenge the old homage bending by.

In vain they look for the ungracious bloom
Of rich apparel where it glowed before,—
For vanity has faded all to gloom,

And lofty Pride has stiffened to the core,
For impious Life to tremble at its doom.-
Set for a warning token evermore,

Whereon, as now, the giddy and the wise
Shall with lifted hands and wondering eyes.
gaze

The aged priest goes on each Sabbath morn,

But shakes not sorrow under his gray hair, The solemn clerk goes lavendered and shorn, Nor stoops his back to the ungodly pair; And ancient lips, that puckered up in scorn, Go smoothly breathing to the house of prayer ; And in the garden-plot, from day to day, The lily blooms its long white life away.

And where two haughty maidens used to be,

In pride of plume, where plumy Death had trod, Trailing their gorgeous velvets wantonly,

Most unmeet pall, over the holy sod;

There, gentle stranger, thou may'st only see

Two sombre Peacocks.

Age, with sapient nod

Marking the spot, still tarries to declare

How they once lived, and wherefore they are there.

в

THE TWO SWANS.

A FAIRY TALE.

IMMORTAL Imogen, crowned queen above The lilies of thy sex, vouchsafe to hear A fairy dream in honor of true love — True above ills, and frailty, and all fearPerchance a shadow of his own career Whose youth was darkly prisoned and long twined By serpent-sorrow, till white Love drew near, And sweetly sang him free, and round his mind A bright horizon threw, wherein no grief may wind.

I saw a tower builded on a lake,

Mocked by its inverse shadow, dark and deep —
That seemed a still intenser night to make,
Wherein the quiet waters sunk to sleep,-

And, whatsoe'er was prisoned in that keep,

A monstrous Snake was warden : - round and round In sable ringlets I beheld him creep

Blackest amid black shadows to the ground,

Whilst his enormous head the topmost turret crowned.

From whence he shot fierce light against the stars,
Making the pale moon paler with affright;
And with his ruby eye out-threatened Mars-
That blazed in the mid-heavens, hot and bright

Nor slept, nor winked, but with a steadfast spite Watched their wan looks and tremblings in the skies; And, that he might not slumber in the night,

The curtain-lids were plucked from his large eyes, So he might never drowse, but watch his secret prize.

Prince or princess in dismal durance pent,
Victims of old Enchantment's love or hate,
Their lives must all in painful sighs be spent,
Watching the lonely waters soon and late,
And clouds that pass and leave them to their fate,
Or company their grief with heavy tears:-
Meanwhile that Hope can spy no golden gate
For sweet escapement, but in darksome fears
They weep and pine away as if immortal years.
No gentle bird with gold upon its wing
Will perch upon the grate the gentle bird
Is safe in leafy dell, and will not bring
Freedom's sweet key-note and commission word
Learned of a fairy's lips, for pity stirred —
Lest while he trembling sings, untimely guest!
Watched by that cruel Snake and darkly heard,
He leave a widow on her lonely nest,

To press in silent grief the darlings of her breast.

No gallant knight, adventurous, in his bark,
Will seek the fruitful perils of the place,
To rouse with dipping oar the waters dark
That bear the serpent-image on their face.

And Love, brave Love! though he attempt the base
Nerved to his loyal death, he may not win
His captive lady from the strict embrace
Of that foul Serpent, clasping her within

His sable folds like Eve enthralled by the old Sin.

But there is none-no knight in panoply,
Nor Love, intrenched in his strong steely coat:
No little speck no sail - no helper nigh,
No sign-no whispering no plash of boat: ---
The distant shores show dimly and remote,
Made of a deeper mist,- serene and gray,-
And slow and mute the cloudy shadows float
Over the gloomy wave, and pass away,

Chased by the silver beams that on their marges play.

And bright and silvery the willows sleep
Over the shady verge- no mad winds tease
Their hoary heads; but quietly they weep

There sprinkling leaves-half fountains and half trees:
There lilies be- and fairer than all these,
A solitary Swan her breast of snow

Launches against the wave that seems to freeze

Into a chaste reflection, still below
Twin-shadow of herself wherever she may go.

And forth she paddles in the very noon
Of solemn midnight like an elfin thing,
Charmed into being by the argent moon —
Whose silver light for love of her fair wing
Goes with her in the shade, still worshipping
Her dainty plumage: - all around her grew
A radiant circlet, like a fairy ring;

And all behind, a tiny little clue

Of light, to guide her back across the waters blue.

And sure she is no meaner than a fay,
Redeemed from sleepy death, for beauty's sake,
By old ordainment: silent as she lay,
Touched by a moonlight wand I saw her wake,