CORINNA AT THE CAPITOL. 105 “Adieu, then, master of the midnight spell! I haste to seek, from woods and valleys deep, CORINNA AT THE CAPITOL. "Les femmes doivent penser qu'il est dans cette carrière bien peu de sorte qui puissent valoir la plus obscure vie d'une femme aimée et d'une mère heureuse." MADAME DE STAEL. DAUGHTER of th' Italian heaven! Now thou tread'st th' ascending road, Touch'd with many a gem-like stain. The trebly hundred triumphs.—BYRON. Thou hast gain'd the summit now! Music, whose rich notes might stir Shaking with victorious notes All the bright air as it floats. And thy voice is heard to rise All the spirit of thy sky Now hath lit thy large dark eye, Radiant daughter of the sun! Now thy living wreath is won. Crown'd of Rome!-Oh! art thou not Happy in that glorious lot? THE RUIN. Happier, happier far than thou, 107 THE RUIN. "Oh! 't is the heart that magnifies this life, WORDSWORTH. "Birth has gladden'd it: death has sanctified it." No dower of storied song is thine, O desolate abode! Forth from thy gates no glittering line Nor have rich bowers of pleasaunce here Hath dwelt, and now is gone. Yet minstrel tale of harp and sword, House of quench'd light and silent board! For me thou needest not. It is enough to know that here, Sorrow and love, and hope and fear, Thou bindest me with mighty spells! A presence all around thee dwells, I need but pluck yon garden flower To wake, with strange and sudden power, Thou hast heard many sounds, thou hearth! Deserted now by all! Voices at eve here met in mirth Which eve may ne'er recall. Youth's buoyant step, and woman's tone, And song and prayer, have all been known, Thou hast heard blessings fondly pour'd Upon the infant head, As if in every fervent word The living soul were shed; Thou hast seen partings, such as bear The bloom from life away Alas! for love in changeful air, Where nought beloved can stay! THE RUIN. Here, by the restless bed of pain Till sunrise, bright with hope in vain, Here hath been felt the hush, the gloom, The breathless influence, shed Through the dim dwelling, from the room The seat left void, the missing face, Till from the narrowing household chain Is there not cause, then-cause for thought, Where, with their thousand mysteries fraught, Man's soul, with fitful strength, hath burst Holy to human nature seems The long-forsaken spot; To deep affections, tender dreams, 109 |