the Moon.
As in the soft and sweet eclipse,
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips,

High hearts are calm, and brightest eyes are dull;
So when thy shadow falls on me,
Then am I mute and still, by thee

Cover'd , of thy love, Orb most beautiful,
Full, oh! too full !

Thou art speeding round the sun
Brightest world of many a one;
Green and azure sphere which shinest
With a light which is divinest
Among all the lamps of Ileaven
To whom life and light is given;
I, thy crystal paramour
Borne beside thee by a power
Like the polar Paradise,
Magnet-like, of lovers' eyes;
I, a most enamour'd maiden,
Whose weak brain is overladen
With the pleasure of her love,
Maniac-like around thee move
Gazing, an insatiate bride,
On thy form from every side
Like a Maenad, round the cup
Which Agave lifted up
In the wierd Cadmapan forest.
Brother, wheresoe'er thou soarest
I must hurry, whirl and follow
Through the heavens wide and hollow,
Shelter'd by the warm embrace
Of thy soul from hungry space,
Drinking from thy sense and sight
Beauty, majesty, and might,
As a lovcror a cameleon
Grows like what it looks upon,
As a violet's gentle eye
Gazes on the azure sky

Until its hue grows like what it beholds,
As a grew and watery mist
Glows like solid amethyst

Athwart the western mountain it enfolds,
When the sunset sleeps

Upon its snow.

The E Anth.

And the weak day weeps

That it should be so. Oh, gentle Moon! the voice of thy delight Falls on me like thy clear and tender light Soothing the seaman, borne the summer night,

Through isles for ever calm ; Oh, gentle Moon! thy crystal accents pierce The caverns of my pride's deep universe, Charming the tiger joy, whose tramplings fierce

Made wounds which need thy balm.

pANTHEA. I rise as from a bath of sparkling water, A bath of azure light, among dark rocks, Out of the stream of sound. 1 on e. Ah me! sweet sister, The stream of sound has ebb'd away from us, And you pretend to rise out of its wave,

Because your words fall like the clear, soft dew
Shaken from a bathing wood-nymph's limbs and hair.

PANTHEA.
Peace' peace! A mighty Power, which is as darkness,
ls rising out of Earth, and from the sky
ls shower'd like night, and from within the air
Dursts, like eclipse which had been gather'd up
Into the pores of sunlight: the bright visions,
Wherein the singing spirits rode and shone,
Gleam like pale meteors through a watery night.

10 N.E.

There is a sense of words upon mine ear.

pA North E.A. A universal sound like words: Oh, list!

de Mogo to Gon. Thou, Earth, calm empire of a happy soul! Sphere of divinest shapes and harmonies, Beautiful orb fathering as thou dost roll The love which paves thy path along the skies:

the EARTH. I hear: I am as a drop of dew that dies.

de Mogong ox. Thou, Moon, which gazest on the nightly Earth With wonder, as it gazes upon thee; Whilst each to men, and beasts, and the swift birth Of birds, is beauty, love, calm, harmony:

The Moon. I hear: I am a leaf shaken by thee!

de Mogo Egon.

Ye kings of suns and stars! Daemons and Gods,
AEtherial Dominations! who possess

Elysian, windless, fortunate abodes
Beyond Ileaven's constellated wilderness:

A voice Fino M Above. Our great Republic hears, we are blest, and bless.

DEMogongon.

Ye happy dead! whom beams of brightest verse
Are clouds to hide, not colours to pourtray,

Whether your nature is that universe
Which once ye saw and suffer'd—

A voice Frt oxi Beneath. Or as they Whom we have left, we change and pass away.

d'EMoc or Gon. Ye elemental Genii, who have homes From man's high mind even to the central stone Of sullen lead; from Ileaven's star-fretted domes To the dull weed some sea-worm battens on :

A confused voice. We hear: thy words waken Oblivion.

DEMocon Gon. Spirits! whose homes are flesh; ye beasts and birds, Ye worms, and fish; ye living leaves and buds; Lightning and wind; and ye untameable herds, Meteors and mists, which throng air's solitudes:

Hath then the gloomy Power Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres Seized on her sinless soul? Must then that peerless form Which love and admiration cannot view Without a beating heart, those azure veins Which steal like streams along a field of snow, That lovely outline, which is fair As breathing marble, perish Must putrefaction's breath Leave nothing of this heavenly sight But loathsomeness and ruin 7 Spare nothing but a gloomy theme, On which the lightest heart might moralize? Or is it only a sweet slumber Stealing o'er sensation, Which the breath of roseate morning Chaseth into darkness : Will lanthe wake again, And give that faithful bosom joy Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch Light, life and rapture from her smile?

Yes! she will wake again, Although her glowing limbs are motionless, And silent those sweet lips, Once breathing eloquence, That might have soothed a tiger's rage, Or thaw'd the cold heart of a conqueror.

Her dewy eves are closed, And on their lids, whose texture fine Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath, The baby Sleep is pillow'd: Her golden tresses shade The bosom's stainless pride, Curling like tendrils of the parasite Around a marble column.

Hark! whence that rushing sound: 'T is like the wondrous strain That round a lonely ruin swells, Which, wandering on the echoing shore, The enthusiast hears at evening: T is softer than the west wind's sigh; T is wilder than the unmeasured notes Of that strange lyre whose strings The genii of the breezes sweep: Those lines of rainbow light Are like the moonbeams when they fall Through some cathedral window, but the tents Are such as may not find Comparison on earth.

The perfect semblance of its bodily frame.
Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,
Each stain of earthliness
Had passid away, it reassumed
Its native dignity, and stood
Inmortal amid ruin.

Upon the couch the body lay Wrapt in the depth of slumber: Its features were fixd and meaningless, Yet animal life was there, And every organ yet perform'd Its natural functions: 't was a sight Of wonder to behold the body and soul. The self-same lineaments, the salue Marks of identity were there; Yet, ol, how different : One aspires to Heaven, Pants for its sempiternal heritage, And ever-changing, ever-rising still, Wantons in endless being. The other, for a time the unwilling sport Of circumstance and passion, struggles on; Fleets through its sad duration rapidly; Then like a useless and worn-out machine, Rots, perishes, and passes.

rainy. Spirit' who hast dived so deep; Spirit who hast sour’d so high; Thou the fearless, thou the mild, Accept the boon thy worth hath earn'd, Ascend the car with ine.

sprair. Do I dream is this new feeling But a vision'd ghost of slumber? If indeed I am a soul, A free, a disembodied soul, Speak again to me.

r-law.

I am the Fairy Man: to me.'t is given
The wonders of the human world to keep;
The secrets of the immeasurable past,
In the unfailing consciences of men,
Those stern, untlatterint; chroniclers, I find.
The future, from the causes which arise
In each event, I gather: not the sting
which retributive memory implants
In the hard bosom of the selfish man;
Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb
which virtue's votary feels when he sums up
The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day,
Are unforescen, unregister'd by me:
And it is yet permitted me, to rend
The veil of mortal fraulty, that the spirit
Clothed in its changeless purity, may know
How soonest to accomplish the great end
For which it hath its being, and may taste
That peace, which in the end all life will share.
This is the meed of virtue; happy Soul,

Ascend the car with me!

The chains of earth's immurement Fell from Ianthe's spirit; They shrank and brake like bandages of straw

Beneath a waken'd giant's strength.
She knew her glorious change,
And felt in apprehension uncontroll'd
New raptures opening round:
Each day-dream of her mortal life,
Each frenzied vision of the slumbers
That closed each well-spent day,
Seem'd now to meet reality.

The Fairy and the Soul proceeded; The silver ciouds disparted; And as the car of magic they ascended, Again the speechless music swell'd, Again the coursers of the air Unfurl’d their alure pennons, and the Queen, Shaking the beamy reins, Bade them pursue their way.

The magic car moved on. The night was fair, and countless stars Studded heaven's dark blue vault, Just o'er the eastern wave Peep'd the first faint smile of morn:The magic car moved on— From the celestial hoofs The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew, And where the burning wheels Eddied above the mountain's loftiest peak, Was traced a line of lightning. Now it flew far above a rock, The utmost verge of earth, The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Lower'd o'er the silver sea.

Far, far below the chariot's path, Calm as a slumbering babe, Tremendous Ocean lay. The mirror of its stillness show'd The pale and waning stars, The chariot's fiery track, And the grey light of morn Tinging those fleecy clouds That canopied the dawn. Seem'd it, that the chariot's way Lay through the midst of an immense concave, Radiant with million constellations, tinted With shades of infinite colour, And semicircled with a belt Flashing incessant meteors.

The magic car moved on. As they approach'd their goal The coursers seem'd to gather speed; The sea no longer was distinguish'd; earth Appear'd a vast and shadowy sphere; The sun's unclouded orb Roll'd through the black concave; (1) Its rays of rapid light Parted around the chariot's swifter course, And fell, like ocean's feathery spray Dash'd from the boiling surge Before a vessel's prow.

The magic car moved on. Earth's distant orb appear'd The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven;

If solitude hath ever led thy steps
To the wild ocean's echoing shore,
And thou hast linger'd there,
Until the sun's broad orb
Seem'd resting on the burnish’d wave,
Thou must have mark'd the lines
Of purple gold, that motionless
Hung o'er the sinking sphere:
Thou must have mark'd the billowy clouds
Edged with intolerable radiancy,
Towering like rocks of jet
Crown'd with a diamond wreath.
And yet there is a moment,
When the sun's highest point
Peeps like a star o'er ocean's western edge,
When those far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea;
Then has thy fancy soar'd above the earth,
And furi'd its wearied wing
Within the Fairy's fame.

Yet not the golden islands Gleaming in yon flood of light, Nor the feathery curtains Stretching o'er the sun's bright couch, Nor the burnish'd ocean waves Paving that gorgeous dome, So fair, so wonderful a sight As Mab's etherial palace could afford. Yet likest evening's vault, that faery Hall! As Heaven, low resting on the wave, it spread Its toors of tashing light, Its vast and azure dome, Its fertile golden islands Floating on a silver sea;

Whilst suns their mingling beamings darted

Through clouds of circumambient darkness,
And pearly battlements around
Look'd o'er the immense of Heaven.

The magic car no longer moved. The Fairy and the Spirit Enter'd the Hall of Spells: Those golden clouds That roll'd in glittering billows Beneath the azure canopy With the etherial footsteps, trembled not : The light and crimson mists, Floating to strains of thrilling melody Through that unearthly dwelling, Yielded to every movement of the will. Upon their pensive spell the spirit lean'd, And, for the varied bliss that press'd around, Used not the glorious privilege Of virtue and of wisdom.

Spirit' the Fairy said, And pointed to the gorgeous dome, This is a wondrous sight And mocks all human grandeur; But, were it virtue's only meed, to dwell In a celestial palace, all resign'd To pleasurable impulses, immured Within the prison of itself, the will Of changeless nature would be unfulfill’d. Learn to make others happy. Spirit, come' This is thine high reward:—the past shall rise; Thou shalt behold the present; I will teach The secrets of the future.

The Fairy and the Spirit Approach'd the overhanging battlement.— Below lay stretch'd the universe! There, far as the remotest line That bounds imagination's flight, Countless and unending orbs In mazy motion intermingled, Yet still fulfill'd immutably Eternal nature's law. Above, below, around The circling systems form d A wilderness of harmony; Each with undeviating aim, In eloquent silence, through the depths of space Pursued its wondrous way.

There was a little light That twinkled in the misty distance: None but a spirit's eye Might ken that rolling orb, None but a spirit's eye, And in no other place But that celestial dwelling, might behold Each action of this earth's inhabitants. But matter, space and time, In those aerial mansions cease to act; And all-prevailing wisdom, when it reaps The harvest of its excellence, o'erhounds Those obstacles, of which an earthly soul Fears to attempt the conquest.

The Fairy pointed to the earth. The Spirit's intellectual eye Its kindred beings recognized. The thronging thousands, to a passing view, Seem'd like an ant-hill's citizens. How wonderful that even The passions, prejudices, interests, That sway the meanest being, the weak touch That moves the finest nerve, And in one human brain Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link In the great chain of nature.

Behold, the Fairy cried, Palmyra's ruin'd palaces'— Behold' where grandeur frown'd ; Behold! where pleasure smiled; What now remains?—the memory Of senselessness and shame— What is immortal there? Nothing—it stands to tell A melancholy tale, to give An awful warning: soon Oblivion will steal silently The remnant of its fame. Monarchs and conquerors there Proud o'er prostrate millions trod— The earthquakes of the human race; Like them, forgotten when the ruin

That marks their shock is past.

Reside the eternal Nile The Pyramids have risen. Nile shall pursue his changeless way: Those pyramids shall fall; Yea! not a stone shall stand to tell The spot whereon they stood; Their very scite shall be forgotten, As is their builder's maine!

Behold yon sterile spot; Where now the wandering Arab's tent Flaps in the desert-blast. There once old Salem's haughty fane Rear'd high to heaven its thousand golden domes, And in the blushing face of day Exposed its shameful glory.

of many a widow, many an orphan cursed
The building of that fane; and many a father,
Worn out with toil and slavery, implored
The poor man's God to sweep it from the earth,
And spare his children the detested task
Of piling stone on stone, and poisoning
The choicest days of life,
To soothe a dotard's vanity.
There an inhuman and uncultured race
Howl'd hideous praises to their Demon-God;
They rush'd to war, tore from the mother's womb
The unborn child,—old age and infancy
Promiscuous perish'd, their victorious arms
Left not a soul to breathe. Oh! they were fiends:
But what was he who taught them that the God
Of nature and benevolence had given
A special sanction to the trade of blood?
llis name and theirs are fading, and the tales