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My soul inspire; will flowers, or song of birds,
Or breath of morn, or hymns of happiness,
Or hopes of heaven, delight me more since thou
Hast turned away? I could have seen thee die,
With my own hand I could have closed those eyes
In whose effulgent light my soul hath bathed,
And sealed those lips, whose lightest words have thrilled
My heart with deep emotions, and then said
In meekness bowing, "let Thy will be done,"
But since thine eye in coldness meets mine own,
In kindly tones thy lips refuse to speak,
My heart must perish, for the aliment
Which nourished it, is taken all away.
And then into that stream so fatal now,

She wildly plunged, but like some precious pearl
From out its depths, her sinking form was snatch'd
By the same hand that in her woes, to help
Was ever ready for her guardian mild,
Again unheeded in her bliss, was near

To save her when those waters brought but death.
And then for weary months watched over her,
While their dark stain was on her snowy robes
And their slow poison lingered in her veins.

When next I looked she wended through a vale,
Where dwelt Humility with downcast eyes,
And timid flowers sent up an incense sweet.
Near her was none but her own gentle guide,
Whose steps she followed with confiding trust.
She bore a casket, wherein was contained
Her treasures, though to her, their worth unknown,
For wiser far than she, and of her good
More jealous, her companion held the key.
And with free hand, by her consent dispensed

Its contents, which upon the waves though cast,
Or by the roadside strewn, were ever brought
Back to her hand a thousand fold, or else
Were onward borne, by swift winged messengers,
To that bright land toward which she journeyed, there

To wait her coming. Meekly bearing this

She came to regal scenes, where wealth and power,

In royal robes and glittering gems arrayed,

Majestic moved. She humbly would have pass'd,
But with proud taunts, they thrust her down to earth.

Though sore indignant, with submissive step

Her own true guide she would have followed still

Had not that foe malign then sped to her,

Though in the guise he wore she knew him not.

He spake of her affronts, how her estate,
So low and humble, was unworthy one
Of claims to greatness wondrous as were hers,
And if that casket he could hear for her

The world admiring to those claims should bow.
Vexed by her wounds and by his words seduced,
Unheeding all remonstrance of her friend,
She placed it in his hands. A secret spring
He touched, and bursting wide it then display'd
To her astonished gaze, gems and bright robes
More gorgeous far than aught those proud ones wore.
Then pointing to a seat on Fame's proud heights,
He bade her in those garments matchless clad
To that high place ascend, and thence her wrongs
Avenge. Cheered by applause, she passing all,
The dazzling point soon reach'd; and as with pride
She turned to take that seat, a thousand tongues
Proclaimed her praises, and a thousand hands
Were raised upon her brow to stamp the seal

Of Fame. But there still shone, though faint and dim,
The "holy cross," of her adopted name

Th' armorial sign, and this must be effaced
Ere on her brow that other seal could press.
Then sped the Evil one to blot it out.
And cried exulting, "now thou'rt mine again,"
But with supernal strength his hand she thrust
Away, for on her ear there rose a voice,
Whose solemn accents thrill'd her inmost soul,
"Thy holy mother, and thine early vow,
Hast thou forgotten all," and distant far
Her gentle friend she saw, with saddened step
And tearful eye, turning with grief away.
And then her eyes upon those scenes she closed,
And from the glittering heights of Fame afar
Toward that friend she fled; she onward went,
Still by that wily form pursued, nor paused
Until a cavern's yawning mouth she reached,
For there with look serene and calm, that friend
Awaited her. They entered that dire place,
From whence arose such sights and sounds as pall
The sternest senses, flames and smoke came forth
As from a fiery furnace, groans were heard
And sighs funereal, smothered sounds arose
Of fearful conflict, then the wailings low,
And muttered curses of defeat, for there
Affliction dwelt, and there Remorse so stern
Fastened her tortures. In the light again
No more I thought to see her, but anon

She issued thence, her guardian's gentle arm
Was round her clasped, her glittering robe to white
Was changed, her jewelled sceptre to a shield,
Which turned aside the shafts, that from that throng]
Which she had quitted, fell upon her fast.

Again I saw her, and her pathway led
Across a dreary desert, nought was there
To cheer the eye, or glad the heart, except

One pure white flower of Friendship, which she watched
With tender care. By holy saints 'twas nursed

In Paradise, and thence by the soft hands
Of her mild friend, transplanted o'er her path
So dark, to shed the odors of that land

Of light. It seemed for these ungenial climes
Too fair, too mild its breath for gentlest gales
That gladden earthly bowers. 'Twas given in love,
And meekly 'twas received, and day, and night,
She o'er it bending, cherished carefully

Its budding beauties, lest one leaf should fade
And die; and if upon her breast to wear,

She pluck'd one petal soft, 'twas with a touch,
Too delicate, the dew-drop bright to shake,

That in its fragrant bosom chastely slept.

And oft with grateful tears, she thanked and praised
The Lord of Paradise, for sending her

In loneliness, this one sweet flower to love.

But midst her tender cares her hand was pierced

E'en to the quick, blood streamed from the deep wound,

Her heart was chill'd, and her whole form did writhe

In agony, while o'er her features spread
A ghastly pallor, and the damp of death
Seem'd gathering on her brow; but fearfully
Then struggled life, that stricken one to gain.
She slowly woke, and sadly sought the cause
Of so much pain. And there beneath the leaves
Concealed, a thorn to strength had grown, and now
With her own blood was stained, and all around
Each flower and bud, more thorns were shooting forth.

In some unguarded hour her watchful foe

Had grafted on its stems buds from the bowers

Of earth, and round its roots a baser soil

Had thrown-thus earthly culture through her plant

Infused a grosser nature; here no more
Without a pang could she enjoy its sweets.
But her too constant heart could not forget
Its former beauty, still she clung to it
And cried, "I cannot give it up. 'Tis all

That's left to me on earth, and to my heart

I still will clasp it, though my own life's blood
Should follow the embrace." Then that sweet voice
Which oft had solaced her, now spoke again.
Weep not, it said, but let it die; and though
It shed no more its perfume on thy way,
And thou shalt have no object here for all
Thy gentle cares, for thee shall all its seeds
Be garnered up, and it shall grow again

In that bright land where thou art going; there
Again thy hand shall tend it; there 'twill bloom,
And watered by life's river, yield for thee,
Immortal fruits. For in that clime alone
Can Friendship live in all its purity.

Again I saw her, in a narrow path

She trod; straight was the way, but broken, rough,
And oft beset with dangers; but her robes
She gathered close around her, and her feet
Were shod with sandals suited to the way.
Below her far on either side were broad

And pleasant paths, where thousands walked, with songs
Of mirth, who loudly called on her, to leave
Her dismal way, and journey on with them.

But all in vain, she heeded not, nor heard
The sight, or song, or luring call. A cloud
Which hid them from her view encompassed her,

And on its top illumined, she beheld

The glorious image of the golden gates

Toward which he hastened, and her eager ear

Was bent to echoes faint and distant far

Of angel minstrelsy. In safety thus

That path she walked, till she approached a deep
And fiercely rushing river; over her

And 'round her, all was dark and dismal, there
Damp vapors rose, and monsters dragged along,
And heaps of human bones lay mouldering there,
And hideous sounds were heard, like muttered groans
Of deep despair. Firm was her tread, when first
She entered this dire place, beyond it shone
The gates she sought to reach, and the mild form
Of her tried friend, was by her side; but soon
That guardian left her, though near by unseen
Regarded her. Forsaken thus, she raised
A fearful cry for help; when through the gloom
A bright transcendant form advanced to her-
From his expanded arms dropped dazzling rays,
And 'round his brow in massive folds was coiled

A fillet bright of varied gems. He smiled
And with soft words, all her deep woes bewailed,
And promised ne'er to leave her, if with him
She would consent to go; and to a land

Of flowers and sunshine, he would bear her soon;
Her's should be wealth untold, and she should wear
The gems that sparkled on his brow. And then
Untwining them, he bade her hear the sound

Of that dark flood through which she else must pass.
To take the proffered gift she raised her hand,
But at the touch, her frame with horror chill'd.
It was a serpent! and she hurled it down,

And saw the fangs protrude in harmless wrath
From out its bruised head. Then she exclaimed,
Depart thou base deceiver! well I know
Thy deadly hate; how thou would'st see my bones
Whitening with those beneath; but now, in this
My greatest strait, thy power I do defy!

He fled; then rushed with joy that gentle one,

And clasped her trembling form, and bore her on

Through the dark valley. In that stream they plunged,

And its wild waves closed over them. But lo!

On the far shore they rise! th'eternal gates

Swing wide! then close her in.

One radiant glimpse

Of heaven I caught, then ringing far above
Its battlements, in th'empyrean clear,
Once more that song of triumph rose.

I turned

That same calm voice, again bade me to hope,
Beside me stood that form, serene and mild,
Into its hand I gave my own, for well

I knew that gentle one had come to guide
My weary wanderings, to that world of bliss.

GERALDINE.

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