SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY

SHE walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear, their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

IF THAT HIGH WORLD

IF that high world, which lies beyond
Our own, surviving Love endears;
If there the cherish'd heart be fond,

The eye the same, except in tears-
How welcome those untrodden spheres!
How sweet this very hour to die!
To soar from earth, and find all fears
Lost in thy light-Eternity!

It must be so: 'tis not for self

That we so tremble on the brink; And striving to o'erleap the gulf, Yet cling to Being's severing link.

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Oh! in that future let us think

To hold each heart the heart that shares;
With them the immortal waters drink,

And soul in soul grow deathless theirs!

O! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM

O! SNATCH'D away in beauty's bloom,

On thee shall press no ponderous tomb,

But on thy turf shall roses rear

Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom;

And oft by yon blue gushing stream

Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,

And feed deep thought with many a dream,

And lingering pause and lightly tread;

Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! 10

Away! we know that tears are vain,

That Death nor heeds nor hears distress;
Will this unteach us to complain !

Or make one mourner weep the less!
And thou-who tell'st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFERING CLAY

WHEN coldness wraps this suffering clay,
Ah! whither strays the immortal mind?
It cannot die, it cannot stay,

But leaves its darken'd dust behind.
Then, unembodied, doth it trace

By steps each planet's heavenly way?
Or fill at once the realms of space,

A thing of eyes, that all survey?

Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,
A thought unseen, but seeing all,
All, all in earth or skies display'd,

Shall it survey, shall it recall:
Each fainter trace that memory holds
So darkly of departed years,

In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all. that was, at once appears.
Before Creation peopled earth,

Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
And where the farthest heaven had birth,
The spirit trace its rising track.
And where the future mars or makes,

Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
While sun is quench'd, or system breaks,
Fix'd in its own eternity.

Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
It lives all passionless and pure :
An age shall fleet like earthly year ;

Its years as moments shall endure.
Away, away, without a wing,

O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly,
A nameless and eternal thing,

Forgetting what it was to die.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB

THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

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For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved,-and forever grew still!

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal!
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

STANZAS FOR MUSIC

THERE be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee;

And like music on the waters

Is thy sweet voice to me:
When, as if its sound were causing
The charmed ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming,
And the lull'd winds seem dreaming.

And the midnight moon is weaving

Her bright chain o'er the deep;
Whose breast is gently heaving,

As an infant's asleep:

So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.

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SO, WE'LL GO NO MORE A ROVING

So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.

STANZAS WRITTEN ON THE ROAD
BETWEEN FLORENCE AND PISA

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Оч, talk not to me of a name great in story ;
The days of our youth are the days of our glory;
And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty
Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

'Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled. Then away with all such from the head that is hoary! What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory!

Oh FAME!—if I e'er took delight in thy praises,
'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, 10
Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover
She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.