THE POET TO NATURE.

FAR in the silence of the flowery west,
Mother, there lies a valley, only known

To me, thy child and worshipper, thine own!
Thither I wander'd in the idle quest

Of the shy ouzel's nest;

And there I found

Thee, queen and goddess, most supremely

crown'd

With leafy loveliness.

The calmness of a silver sunset fell

Upon thine eyes, so turn'd to amethyst,

Smiling on me; and, first in that green dell, I felt thy fingers press

My brows with ivy bound.

MUSIC.

BEFORE the clavichord

Stately she sat, and from her fine lips pour'd

The song I love so well :

Fair is she, yet I could afford

To lose those deep eyes where clear violets dwell,

And, in a whirl of sound,

To gain the heaven where her young spirit soar'd, Forgetful of the ground.

Music, thy noblest servant, Israfel,

Feels not his lyre-heart more divinely bound

At seraph-chaunts, than I to hear

That passionate rondel throb with hope and fear!

THE LIGHT OF DEATH.

LIFE lay long lingering in her heaven-lit eyes;

Her breast heav'd not

Responding to our sighs,

Nor did her lips speak aught;

Yet we, with glad surprise,

In soft faint whispers thus our fears allay'd :— “Our love she knoweth, and therein she liveth ; The Power that lent her life now giveth

A light unto her eyes that ne'er shall fade!"

And when it failed from me,

Leaving its semblance in my mind for ever,
How fled ye then, ye chilly fears!

How thou returnedst, Hope, to cease, oh! never
Thy lovely tale of hearts that cannot sever,
In realms serene high-lifted o'er the tears
That feed Time's sullen sea!

THE ANGEL OF THE ANNUNCIATION.

STILL, with the lightning speed of his swift flight, The rainbows of his wings

Vibrated, and his hair bore still the light

That shone around it in those mansions bright,
Whence the sun's glory springs ;

On one knee to the Virgin fair he bent,

And, in a low clear voice of silver chord,
Gave forth the mystic word

Wherewith he had been sent;

A choral murmur of rich music blent

With the faint echo; then from her rapt sight
He faded, unador'd.

SUNSET AND DAWN.

I. THE SUNSET.

"GIVE us thy peace, O Lord!"
So rang their solemn prayer,
Beneath the quaint carv'd roof;
For they had heard

Lov'd lips deal mild reproof

Unto their worldly care,

Their flitting faith, unfix'd,

Their trust with doubting mix'd;

Then, weary and convicted, they

Their burdens at His feet did lay,

Whom they in earnest, tearful tones implor'd:

"Give us thy peace, O Lord!"

Ah, ne'er canst thou, nor I, dear love,