II.

“Our boat has one sail,
And the helmsman is pale ;
A bold pilot I trow,
Who should follow us now,"--

Shouted He

And she cried: “Ply the oar;
Put off gayly from shore !”-
As she spoke, bolts of death
Mixed with hail, specked their path

O’er the sea.

And from isle, tower, and rock,
The blue beacon-cloud broke,
Though dumb in the blast,
The red cannon flashed fast

From the lee.

III.

“ And fear'st thou, and fear'st thou ?
And see'st thou, and hear'st thou ?
And drive we not free
O'er the terrible sea,

I and thou?"

One boat-cloak did cover
The loved and the lover
Their blood beats one measure,
They murmur proud pleasure

Soft and low ;

178

MUTABILITY.

The flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay,

Tempts and then flies ; What is this world's delight ? Lightning that mocks the night, Brief even as bright.

Virtue, how frail it is!

Friendship too rare ! Love, how it sells poor bliss

For proud despair ! But we, though soon they fall, Survive their joy and all Which ours we call.

Whilst skies are blue and bright,

Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night

Make glad the day; Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou—and from thy sleep Then wake to weep.

TO

MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed;

Yes, I was firm—thus wert not thou ;My baffled looks did fear yet dread

To meet thy looks—I could not know How anxiously they sought to shine With soothing pity upon mine.

To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon

itself alone ; To curse the life which is the cage

Of fettered grief that dares not groan, Hiding from many a careless eye The scorned load of agony.

The [

Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,

] thou alone should be, To spend years thus, and be rewarded,

As thou, sweet love, requited me When none were near-Oh! I did wake From torture for that moment's sake.

Upon my heart thy accents sweet

Of peace and pity fell like dew On flowers half dead ;-thy lips did meet

Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw Their soft persuasion on my brain, Charming away its dream of pain.

We are not happy, sweet! our state

Is strange and full of doubt and fear; More need of words that ills abate ;

Reserve or censure come not near Our sacred friendship, lest there be No solace left for thou and me.

Gentle and good and mild thou art,

Nor can I live if thou appear Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart

Away from me, or stoop to wear The mask of scorn, although it be To hide the love thou feel’st for me.

LINES.

FAR, far away, Oye

Halcyons of Memory!
Seek some far calmer nest
Than this abandoned breast;
No news of your false spring
Το
my

heart's winter bring;
Once having gone, in vain

Ye come again.

Vultures, who build your bowers
High in the future's towers !