II. TO THE STATUE OF EVE, BY POWERS. WHO that has had of beauteous womanhood As a reality, were such to come Before thee, with a virgin joy, his soul, Would gush with ecstasy, while from it roll NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS. I. STORM had been on the hills: the day had worn Suddenly, on the horizon's edge, a blue And delicate line, as of a pencil, lay, The darkness removed silently away; And, with the splendor of a god, broke through The perfect glory of departing day : So, when his stormy pilgrimage is o'er, Will light upon the dying Christian pour. II. ACROSTIC SONNET. ELEGANCE floats about thee like a dress, So pure in veined transparency, doth tell How spiritually beautiful art thou,— A temple where angelic love might dwell. Life in thy presence were a thing to keep, Like a gay dreamer clinging to his sleep. WILLIAM HENRY CUYERL HOSMER. I. ON A CASCADE NEAR WYOMING. A BROOK, the woody mountain's bounding child, On the green carpet of the glen below. Their mossy branches, flecked with drops of spray, In haunts like these, when baffled in the fight Have gathered to repair their wasted powers, And rousing hymns of God and freedom heard, II. NIGHT. O NIGHT! I love thee as a weary child Loves the maternal breast on which it leans ! Day hath its golden pomp, its bustling scenes; But richer gifts are thine: the turmoil wild Of a proud heart thy low, sad voice hath stilled, Until its throb is gentler than the swell Of a light billow, and its chamber filled With cloudless light, with calm unspeakable : Thy hand a curtain lifteth, and I see One who first taught my heart with love to thrill, Though long ago her lip of song grew still: A strange mysterious power belongs to thee, To morning, noon, and twilight-time unknown; For the dead gather round thy starry throne! |