THE DEATH

DEATH OF LILIS.

IT was an evening bright and still

As ever blush'd on wave or bower,
Smiling from heaven, as if nought ill
Could happen in so sweet an hour.
Yet, I remember, both grew sad

In looking at that light-even she,
Of heart so fresh and brow so glad,
Felt the still hour's solemnity,
And thought she saw, in that repose,
The death-hour not alone of light,

But of this whole fair world-the close

Of all things beautiful and bright—

The last, grand sunset, in whose ray
Nature herself died calm away!

At length, as though some livelier thought

Had suddenly her fancy caught,

She turn'd upon me her dark eyes,
Dilated into that full shape

They took in joy, reproach, surprise,
As 'twere to let more soul escape,
And, playfully as on my head

Her white hand rested, smiled and said:

"I had, last night, a dream of thee,

Resembling those divine ones, given, Like preludes to sweet minstrelsy,

Before thou cam'st thyself from heaven.

"The same rich wreath was on thy brow,
Dazzling as if of starlight made;
And these wings, lying darkly now,

Like meteors round thee flash'd and play'd.

"Thou stood'st all bright, as in those dreams, As if just wafted from above;

Mingling earth's warmth with heaven's beams, A creature to adore and love.

"Sudden I felt thee draw me near

To thy pure heart, where, fondly placed, I seem'd within the atmosphere

Of that exhaling light embraced;

"And felt, methought, th' ethereal flame Pass from thy purer soul to mine; Till-oh, too blissful-I became,

Like thee, all spirit, all divine!

"Say, why did dream so blest come o'er me,
If, now I wake, 'tis faded, gone?

When will my Cherub shine before me
Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone?

"When shall I, waking, be allow'd

To gaze upon those perfect charms, And clasp thee once, without a cloud, A chill of earth, within these arms?

"Oh what a pride to say, this, this Is my own Angel-all divine, And pure and dazzling as he is,

And fresh from heaven-he's mine, he's mine!

"Think'st thou, were LILIS in thy place,

A creature of yon lofty skies,
She would have hid one single grace,
One glory from her lover's eyes?

"No, no-then, if thou lov'st like me, Shine out, young Spirit, in the blaze

Of thy most proud divinity,

Nor think thou'lt wound this mortal gaze.

"Too long and oft I've look'd upon
Those ardent eyes, intense ev'n thus-
Too near the stars themselves have gone,
To fear aught grand and luminous.

"Then doubt me not-oh, who can say
But that this dream may yet come true,
And my blest spirit drink thy ray,
Till it becomes all heavenly too?*

"Let me this once but feel the flame
Of those spread wings, the very pride
Will change my nature, and this frame.
By the mere touch be deified!"

Thus spoke the maid, as one not used
To be by earth or heaven refused—
As one who knew her influence o'er

All creatures, whatsoe'er they were,
And, though to heaven she could not soar,
At least would bring down heaven to her.

How could I pause? how ev'n let fall
A word, a whisper that could stir
In her proud heart a doubt, that all

I brought from heaven belong'd to her?
Slow from her side I rose, while she
Arose, too, mutely, tremblingly,

But not with fear-all hope, and pride.
She waited for the awful boon,

Like priestesses, at eventide,

Watching the rise of the full moon, Whose light, when once its orb hath shone, "Twill madden them to look upon!

Of all my glories, the bright crown,

Which, when I last from heaven came down,

Was left behind me, in yon star

That shines from out those clouds afar,-
Where, relic sad, 'tis treasured yet,

The downfallen angel's coronet!--
Of all my glories, this alone

Was wanting:-but the illumined brow, The sun-bright locks, the eyes that now Had love's spell added to their own,

And pour'd a light till then unknown;

Th' unfolded wings, that, in their play,
Shed sparkles bright as ALLA's throne;
All I could bring of heaven's array,
Of that rich panoply of charms

A Cherub moves in, on the day
Of his best pomp, I now put on;
And, proud that in her eyes I shone
Thus glorious, glided to her arms;
Which still (though at a sight so splendid,
Her dazzled brow had, instantly,

Sunk on her breast) were wide extended

To clasp the form she durst not sce!
Great Heaven? how could thy vengeance light
So bitterly on one so bright?

How could the hand, that gave such charms,
Blast them again, in love's own arms?
Scarce had I touch'd her shrinking frame
When-oh most horrible !--I felt
That every spark of that pure flame-
Pure, while among the stars I dwelt-
Was now, by my transgression, turn'd
Into gross, earthly fire, which burn'd,
Burn'd all it touch'd, as fast as eye

Could follow the fierce, ravening flashes;

Till there-O God, I still ask why
Such doom was hers?—I saw her lie

Blackening within my arms to ashes!

That brow, a glory but to see

Those lips, whose touch was what the first Fresh cup of immortality

Is to a new-made angel's thirst!
Those clasping arms, within whose round.
My heart's horizon-the whole bound
Of its hope, prospect, heaven was found!
Which, even in this dread moment, fond

As when they first were round me cast,
Loosed not in death the fatal bond,
But, burning, held me to the last!

THE ANGEL ZARAPH'S STORY.

AMONG the Spirits, of pure flame,

That in th' eternal heavens abide-
Circles of light, that from the same
Unclouded centre sweeping wide,
Carry its beams on every side—
Like spheres of air that waft around
The undulations of rich sound,
Till the far-circling radiance be
Diffused into infinity!

First and immediate near the Throne
Of ALLA, as if most his own,
The Seraphs stand-this burning sign
Traced on their banner, "Love divine!"
Their rank, their honours, far above

Ev'n those to high-brow'd Cherubs given,
Though knowing all;-so much doth love
Transcend all Knowledge, ev'n in heaven!

'Mong these was ZARAPH once-and none
E'er felt affection's holy fire,
Or yearn'd towards th' Eternal One,

With half such longing, deep desire.

Love was to his impassion'd soul

Not, as with others, a mere part
Of its existence, but the whole--

The very life-breath of his heart!
Oft, when from ALLA's lifted brow

A lustre came, too bright to bear,
And all the seraph ranks would bow,
To shade their dazzled sight, nor dare
To look upon th' effulgence there-
This Spirit's eyes would court the blaze
(Such pride he in adoring took),
And rather lose, in that one gaze,
The power of looking, than not look!
Then, too, when angel voices sung
The mercy of their God, and strung
Their harps to hail, with welcome sweet,
That moment, watch'd for by all eyes,
When some repentant sinner's feet

First touch'd the threshold of the skies,