HYMN OF A VIRGIN OF DELPHI,

AT THE TOMB OF HER MOTHER.

OH! lost, for ever lost!—no more
Shall Vesper light our dewy way
Along the rocks of Crissa's shore,

To hymn the fading fires of day!
No more to Tempé's distant vale

In holy musings shall we roam,
Through summer's glow and winter's gale,
To bear the mystic chaplets home! *
'Twas then my soul's expanding zeal,
By Nature warm'd and led by thee,
In every breeze was taught to feel

The breathings of a deity!

*The laurel, for the common uses of the temple, for adorning the altars and sweeping the pavement, was supplied by a tree near the fountain of Castalia; but upon all important occasions, they sent to Tempé for their laurel. We find in PAUSANIAS, that this valley supplied the branches of which the temple was originally constructed; and PLUTARCH says, in his Dialogue on Music, "The youth who brings the Tempic laurel to Delphi is always attended by a player out the flute." Αλλά μην και τω κατακομιζοντι παιδί την Τεμπικην δαφνην εις Δελφος παρομαρτει αυλητης.

Guide of my heart! to memory true,

Thy looks, thy words, are still my ownI see thee raising from the dew

Some laurel, by the wind o'erthrown, And hear thee say, "This humble bough "Was planted for a doom divine, And, though it weep in languor now, "Shall flourish on the Delphic shrine ! “Thus in the vale of earthly sense,

"Though sunk awhile the spirit lies, "A viewless hand shall cull it thence, "To bloom immortal in the skies!"

Thy words had such a melting flow,
And spoke of truth so sweetly well,
They dropp'd like Heaven's serenest snow,
And all was brightness where they fell!
Fond soother of my infant tear!
Fond sharer of my infant joy!

Is not thy shade still lingering here?
Am I not still thy soul's employ?
And oh as oft at close of day,

When meeting on the sacred mount,

Our nymphs awaked the choral lay,

And danced around Cassotis' fount; As then, 'twas all thy wish and care That mine should be the simplest mien, My lyre and voice the sweetest there, My foot the lightest o'er the green; So still, each little grace to mould, Around my form thine eyes are shed, Arranging every snowy fold,

And guiding every mazy tread! And, when I lead the hymning choir, Thy spirit still, unseen and free, Hovers between my lip and lyre,

And weds them into harmony!

Flow, Plistus, flow, thy murmuring wave
Shall never drop its silvery tear
Upon so pure, so blest a grave,

To memory so divinely dear!

RINGS AND SEALS.

Ώσπερ σφραγίδες τα φιλήματα.

ACHILLES TATIUS, lib. ii.

"Go!" said the angry, weeping maid,

“The charm is broken!—once betray'd,

"Oh! never can my heart rely

"On word or look, on oath or sigh.
"Take back the gifts, so sweetly given,

"With promised faith and vows to Heaven;
"That little ring which, night and morn,
"With wedded truth hand hath worn;

my

"That seal which oft, in moments blest,
"Thou hast upon my lip imprest,
“And sworn its dewy spring should be
“A fountain seal'd * for only thee!

* "There are gardens, supposed to be those of King Solomon, in the neighbourhood of Bethlehem. The friars show a fountain, which they say is the 'sealed fountain' to which the holy spouse in the Canticles is compared; and they pretend a tradition, that Solomon shut up these springs and put his signet upon the door, to keep them for his own drinking." -MAUNDRELL's Travels. See also the Notes to Mr. Good's Translation of the Song of Solomon.

"Take, take them back, the gift and vow, "All sullied, lost and hateful now!"

I took the ring-the seal I took,
While, oh! her every tear and look
Were such as angels look and shed,
When man is by the world misled !
Gently I whisper'd, "FANNY, dear!
"Not half thy lover's gifts are here :
"Say, where are all the seals he gave
"To every ringlet's jetty wave,
"And where is every one he printed
"Upon that lip so ruby-tinted-
"Seals of the purest gem of bliss,
"Oh! richer, softer, far than this!

"And then the ring-my love! recal
"How many rings, delicious all,

"His arms around that neck hath twisted, "Twining warmer far than this did! "Where are they all, so sweet, so many? "Oh! dearest, give back all, if any!" While thus I murmur'd, trembling too Lest all the nymph had vow'd was true,