And I forgot my home, my birth,

Profaned my spirit, sunk my brow, And revell'd in gross joys of earth, Till I became what I am now!

The Spirit bow'd his head in shame;

A shame that of itself would tell-
Were there not even those breaks of flame,
Celestial, through his clouded frame-

How grand the height from which he fell!
That holy Shame which ne'er forgets

What clear renown it used to wear;
Whose blush remains, when Virtue sets,
To show her sunshine has been there.
Once only, while the tale he told,
Were his eyes lifted to behold
That happy stainless star, where she
Dwelt in her bower of purity!
One minute did he look, and then-

As though he felt some deadly pain

From its sweet light through heart and brainShrunk back, and never look'd again.

Who was the Second Spirit?-he

With the proud front and piercing glanceWho seem'd, when viewing heaven's expanse, As though his far-sent eye could see On, on into the Immensity Behind the veils of that blue sky, Where God's sublimest secrets lie?His wings the while, though day was gone, Flashing with many a various hue Of light they from themselves alone, Instinct with Eden's brightness, drewA breathing forth of beams at will,

Of living beams, which, though no more
They kept their early lustre, still

Were such, when glittering out all o'er,
As mortal eyelids wink'd before.

Twas Rubi-once among the prime
And flower of those bright creatures, named
Spirits of Knowledge,' who o'er Time

And Space and Thought an empire claim'd,
Second alone to Him, whose light-
Was, even to theirs, as day to night-
"Twixt whom and them was distance far
And wide, as would the journey be
To reach from any island star

The vague shores of infinity!
"T was Rubi, in whose mournful eye
Slept the dim light of days gone by;
Whose voice, though sweet, fell on the ear
Like echoes in some silent place,
When first awaked for many a year:

And when he smiled-if o'er his face
Smile ever shone-'t was like the grace
Of moonlight rainbows, fair, but wan,
The sunny life, the glory gone.
Even o'er his pride, though still the same,
A softening shade from sorrow came;
And though at times his spirit knew

1 The Cherubim.-See Note.

The kindlings of disdain and ire, Short was the fitful glare they threwLike the last flashes, fierce but few,

Seen through some noble pile on fire!

Such was the Angel who now broke

The silence that had come o'er all, When he, the Spirit that last spoke,

Closed the sad history of his fall; And, while a sacred lustre, flown

For many a day, relum'd his cheek, And not those sky-tuned lips alone, But his eyes, brows, and tresses, roll'd Like sunset waves, all seem'd to speakThus his eventful story told :

SECOND ANGEL'S STORY.

You both remember well the day
When unto Eden's new-made bowers,
He, whom all living things obey,
Summon'd his chief angelic powers,
To witness the one wonder yet,

Beyond man, angel, star, or sun,
He must achieve, ere he could set
His seal upon the world as done-
To see that last perfection rise,

That crowning of creation's birth, When, 'mid the worship and surprise Of circling angels, Woman's eyes

First open'd upon heaven and earth;
And from their lids a thrill was sent,
That through each living spirit went,
Like first light through the firmament!

Can you forget how gradual stole
The fresh awaken'd breath of soul
Throughout her perfect form-which seem'd
To grow transparent, as there beam'd
That dawn of mind within, and caught
New loveliness from each new thought?
Slow as o'er summer seas we trace
The progress of the noon-tide air,
Dimpling its bright and silent face
Each minute into some new grace,
And varying heaven's reflections there-
Or, like the light of evening, stealing

O'er some fair temple, which all day
Hath slept in shadow, slow revealing
Its several beauties, ray by ray,
Till it shines out, a thing to bless,
All full of light and loveliness.

Can you forget her blush, when round Through Eden's lone enchanted ground She look'd-and at the sea-the skies

And heard the rush of many a wing, By God's command then vanishing, And saw the last few angel eyes, Still lingering-mine among the rest,Reluctant leaving scene so blest? From that miraculous hour, the fate

Of this new glorious Being dwelt For ever, with a spell-like weight, Upon my spirit-early, late,

Whate'er I did, or dream'd, or felt.

The thought of what might yet befall That splendid creature mix'd with all.Nor she alone, but her whole race Through ages yet to come-whate'er Of feminine, and fond, and fair,

Should spring from that pure mind and face,
All waked my soul's intensest care:
Their forms, souls, feelings, still to me
God's most disturbing mystery!

It was my doom-even from the first,
When summon'd with my cherub peers,
To witness the young vernal burst

Of nature through those blooming spheres,
Those flowers of light, that sprung beneath
The first touch of the Eternal's breath-
It was my doom still to be haunted

By some new wonder, some sublime
And matchless work, that, for the time,
Held all my soul enchain'd, enchanted,
And left me not a thought, a dream,
A word, but on that only theme!
The wish to know-that endless thirst,

Which even by quenching, is awaked,
And which becomes or bless'd or cursed,
As is the fount whereat 't is slaked-
Still urged me onward, with desire
Insatiate, to explore, inquire-
Whate'er the wondrous things might be,
That waked each new idolatry-

Their cause, aim, source from whence they

sprung,

Their inmost powers, as though for me

Existence on that knowledge hung.

Oh what a vision were the stars,
When first I saw them burn on high,
Rolling along like living cars

Of light, for gods to journey by!
They were my heart's first passion-days
And nights, unwearied, in their rays
Have I hung floating, till each sense
Seem'd full of their bright influence.
Innocent joy! alas, how much

Of misery bad I shunn'd below,
Could I have still lived blest with such ;
Nor, proud and restless, burn'd to know
The knowledge that brings guilt and woe!
Often-so much I loved to trace
The secrets of this starry race-
Have I at morn and evening run
Along the lines of radiance spun,
Like webs, between them and the sun,
Untwisting all the tangled ties
Of light into their different dyes-
Then fleetly wing'd I off, in quest
Of those, the farthest, loneliest,
That watch, like winking sentinels,
The void, beyond which Chaos dwells,
And there, with noiseless plume, pursued
Their track through that grand solitude,
Asking intently all and each

What soul within their radiance dwelt, And wishing their sweet light were speech, That they might tell me all they felt.

Nay, oft so passionate my chase
Of these resplendent heirs of space,
Oft did I follow-lest a ray

Should 'scape me in the farthest night-
Some pilgrim Comet, on his way

To visit distant shrines of light,
And well remember how I sung

Exulting out, when on my sight
New worlds of stars, all fresh and young,
As if just born of darkness, sprung!

Such was my pure ambition then,

My sinless transport, night and morn;
Ere this still newer world of men,

And that most fair of stars was born,
Which I, in fatal hour, saw rise
Among the flowers of Paradise!
Thenceforth my nature all was changed,
My heart, soul, senses turn'd below;
And he, who but so lately ranged

Yon wonderful expanse, where glow
Worlds upon worlds, yet found his mind
Even in that luminous range confined,
Now blest the humblest, meanest sod
Of the dark earth where Woman trod!
In vain my former idols glisten'd

From their far thrones; in vain these ears
To the once thrilling music listen'd,

That hymn'd around my favourite spheresTo earth, to earth each thought was given,

That in this half-lost soul had birth;

Like some high mount, whose head 's in heaven, While its whole shadow rests on earth!

Nor was it Love, even yet, that thrall'd

My spirit in his burning ties ;

And less, still less could it be call'd

That grosser flame, round which Love flies
Nearer and nearer, till he dies-

No, it was wonder, such as thrill'd
At all God's works my dazzled sense;
The same rapt wonder, only fill'd

With passion, more profound, intense,-
A vehement, but wandering fire,
Which, though nor love, nor yet desire,
Though through all womankind it took
Its range, as vague as lightnings run,
Yet wanted but a touch, a look,
To fix it burning upon One.

Then, too, the ever-restless zeal,

The insatiate curiosity

To know what shapes, so fair, must feel-
To look, but once, beneath the seal

Of so much loveliness, and see
What souls belong'd to those bright eyes-
Whether, as sun-beams find their way
Into the gem that hidden lies,

Those looks could inward turn their ray,
To make the soul as bright as they!
All this impell'd my anxious chase,

And still the more I saw and knew
Of Woman's fond, weak, conquering race,
The intenser still my wonder grew.

I had beheld their First, their EVE,
Born in that splendid Paradise,

I saw their happiness, so brief,

So exquisite-her error, too, That easy trust, that prompt belief

In what the warm heart wishes true; That faith in words, when kindly said, By which the whole fond sex is ledMingled with (what I durst not blame,

For 't is my own) that wish to know, Sad, fatal zeal, so sure of woe; Which, though from Heaven all pure it came, Yet stain'd, misused, brought sin and shame On her, on me, on all below!

I had seen this; had seen Man-arm'd

As his soul is with strength and sense-
By her first words to ruin charm'd;

His vaunted reason's cold defence,
Like an ice-barrier in the ray
Of melting summer, smiled away!
Nay-stranger yet-spite of all this-
Though by her counsels taught to err,
Though driven from Paradise for her
(And with her-that, at least, was bliss,)
Had I not heard him, ere he cross'd

The threshold of that earthly heaven,
Which by her wildering smile he lost-
So quickly was the wrong forgiven-
Had I not heard him, as he press'd
The frail fond trembler, to a breast
Which she had doom'd to sin and strife,
Call her-think what-his Life! his Life!!
Yes-such the love-taught name-the first
That ruin'd Man to Woman gave,
Even in his out-cast hour, when curst,
By her fond witchery, with that worst
And earliest boon of love-the grave!
She, who brought death into the world,

There stood before him, with the light
Of their lost Paradise still bright
Upon those sunny locks, that curl'd
Down her white shoulders to her feet-
So beautiful in form, so sweet
In heart and voice, as to redeem

The loss, the death of all things dear,
Except herself and make it seem

Life, endless life, while she was near!

Could I help wondering at a creature,

Enchanted round with spells so strongOne, to whose every thought, word, feature, In joy and woe, through right and wrong, Such sweet omnipotence Heaven gave, To bless or ruin, curse or save?

Nor did the marvel cease with her

New Eves in all her daughters came,

1 Chavah, the name by which Adam called the woman after their transgression, means "Life."-See Note A

To light each charm, yet independent
Of what it lighted, as the sun,

That shines on flowers, would be resplendent
Were there no flowers to shine upon-
"T was this, all this, in one combined,

The unnumber'd looks and arts that form
The glory of young woman-kind
Taken in their first fusion, warm,
Ere time had chill'd a single charm,
And stamp'd with such a seal of Mind,
As gave to beauties, that might be
Too sensual else, too unrefined,
The impress of divinity!

"T was this a union, which the hand
Of Nature kept for her alone,
Of every thing most playful, bland,
Voluptuous, spiritual, grand,

In angel-natures and her w
Oh this it was that drew megh
One, who seem'd kin to Heaven as I,
My bright twin sister of the sky-
One, in whose love, I felt, were given
The mixed delights of either sphere,
All that the spirit seeks in heaven,

And all the senses burn for here!
Had we-but hold-hear every part

Of our sad tale-spite of the pain
Remembrance gives, when the fixed dart
Is stirr'd thus in the wound again-
Hear every step, sh full of bliss,
that led

It was in dreams that first I stole

With gentle mastery o'er her mindIn that rich twilight of the soul,

When Reason's beam, half hid behind The clouds of sense, obscurely gilds Each shadowy shape that Fancy builds'T was then, by that soft light, I brought

Vague, glimmering visions to her viewCatches of radiance, lost when caught, Bright labyrinths, that led to nought,

And vistas with a void seen throughDwellings of bliss, that opening shone,

Then closed, dissolved, and left no traceAll that, in short, could tempt Hope on, But give her wing no resting-place; Myself the while, with brow, as yet, Pure as the young moon's coronet, Through every dream still in her sight,

The enchanter of each mocking scene, Who gave the hope, then brought the blight, Who said "Behold yon world of light,"

Then sudden dropp'd a veil between!
At length, when I perceived each thought,
Waking or sleeping, fix'd on nought

But these illusive scenes, and me,
The phantom, who thus came and went,
In half revealments, only meant

To madden curiosity

When by such various arts I found
Her fancy to its utmost wound,
One night-t' was in a holy spot,

Which she for prayer had chosen-a grot
Of purest marble, built below
Her garden beds, through which a glow
From lamps invisible then stole,

Brightly pervading all the place-
Like that mysterious light, the soul,
Itself unseen, sheds through the face-
There, at her altar while she knelt,
And all that woman ever felt,

When God and man both claim'd her sighsEvery warm thought that ever dwelt,

Like summer clouds, twixt earth and skies, Too pure to fall, too gross to rise, Spoke in her gestures, tones, and eyes, Thus, by the tender light, which lay Dissolving round, as if its ray

Was breathed from her, I heard her say:"Oh, idol of my dreams! whate'er

Thy nature be-human, divine, Or but half heavenly-still too fair, Too heavenly to be ever mine!

"Wonderful Spirit, who dost make Slumber so lovely that it seems No longer life to live awake,

Since heaven itself descends in dreams.

"Why do I ever lose thee ?-why-
When on thy realms and thee I gaze-
Still drops that veil, which I could die,
Oh gladly, but one hour to raise ?

"Long ere such miracles as thou
And thine came o'er my thoughts, a thirst

For light was in this soul, which now
Thy looks have into passion nursed.

"There's nothing bright above, below,

In sky-earth-ocean, that this breast Doth not intensely surn to know,

And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest!

"Then come, oh Spirit, from behind

The curtains of thy radiant home,
Whether thou wouldst as God be shrined,
Or loved and class'd as mortal, come !
"Bring all thy dazzling wonders here,

That I may waking know and see-
Or waft me hence to thy own sphere,
Thy heaven or-ay, even that with thee!
"Demon or God, who hold'st the book
Of knowledge spread beneath thine eye,
Give me, with thee, but one bright look
Into its leaves, and let me die!

"By those ethereal wings, whose way
Lies through an element, so fraught
With floating Mind, that, as they play,
Their every movement is a thought!

"By that most precious hair, between
Whose golden clusters the sweet wind
Of Paradise so late hath been,

And left its fragrant soul behind!
"By those impassion'd eyes, that melt
Their light into the inmost heart,
Like sunset in the waters, felt

As molten fire through every part,"I do implore thee, oh most bright

And worshipp'd Spirit, shine but o'er My waking wondering eyes this night,

This one bless'd night-I ask no more!'

Exhausted, breathless, as she said
These burning words, her languid head
Upon the altar's steps she cast,
As if that brain-throb were its last-
Till, startled by the breathing, nigh,
Of lips, that echoed back her sigh,
Sudden her brow again she raised,
And there, just lighted on the shrine,
Beheld me-not as I had blazed

Around her, full of light divine,
In her late dreams, but soften'd down
Into more mortal grace-my crown
Of flowers, too radiant for this world,
Left hanging on yon starry steep;
My wings shut up, like banners furl'd,
When Peace hath put their pomp to sleep;
Or like autumnal clouds, that keep
Their lightnings sheathed, rather than mar
The dawning hour of some young star-
And nothing left but what beseem'd

The accessible, though glorious mate Of mortal woman-whose eyes bearn'd Back upon her's, as passionate: Whose ready heart brought flame for flame, Whose sin, whose madness was the same,

And whose soul lost, in that one hour,

For her and for her love-oh more Of Heaven's light than even the power Of Heaven itself could now restore! And yet the hour!

The Spirit here
Stopped in his utterance, as if words
Gave way beneath the wild career

Of his then rushing thoughts-like chords,
Midway in some enthusiast's song,
Breaking beneath a touch too strong-
While the clench'd hand upon the brow
Told how remembrance throbb'd there now!
But soon 't was o'er-that casual blaze
From the sunk fire of other days,
That relic of the flame, whose burning
Had been too fierce to be relumed,
Soon pass'd away, and the youth, turning
To his bright listeners, thus resumed :-

Days, months elapsed, and, though what most
On earth I sigh'd for was mine, all,-
Yet-was I happy? God, thou know'st
Howe'er they smile, and feign, and boast,
What happiness is theirs, who fall!

"T was bitterest anguish-made more keen
Even by the love, the bliss, between
Whose throbs it came, like gleams of hell
In agonizing cross-light given
Athwart the glimpses they who dwell
In purgatory catch of heaven!
The only feeling that to me

Seem'd joy, or rather my sole rest
From aching misery, was to see

My young, proud, blooming LILIS bless'd
She, the fair fountain of all ill

To my lost soul-whom yet its thirst
Fervidly panted after still,

And found the charm fresh as at first!-
To see her happy-to reflect

Whatever beams still round me play'd Of former pride, of glory wreck'd,

On her, my Moon, whose light I made, And whose soul worshipp'd even my shadeThis was, I own, enjoyment-this My sole, last lingering glimpse of bliss. And proud she was, bright creature!-proud, Beyond what even most queenly stirs In woman's heart, nor would have bow'd That beautiful young brow of hers To aught beneath the First above, So high she deem'd her Cherub's love!

Then, too, that passion, hourly growing

Stronger and stronger-to which even Her love, at times, gave way-of knowing Every thing strange in earth and heaven; Not only what God loves to show, But all that He hath seal'd below In darkness for man not to knowEven this desire, alas, ill-starr'd And fatal as it was, I sought To feed each minute, and unbarr'd Such realms of wonder on her thought.