As when from Chaos' giant arms set free,
'Mid the Creation-storm, exultingly
Sprang sparkling forth the Orbs of Light-
So streams the rich tone in melodious might.

Soft-gliding now, as when o'er pebbles glancing,
The silver wave goes dancing;

Now with majestic swell, and strong,

As thunder peals in organ-tones along;

And now with stormy gush,

As down the rock, in foam, the whirling torrents rush ;

To a whisper now

Melts it amorously,

Like the breeze through the bough

Of the aspen tree;

Heavily now, and with a mournful breath,

Like midnight's wind along those wastes of death, Where Awe the wail of ghosts lamenting hears,

And slow Cocytus trails the stream whose waves are tears.

Speak, maiden, speak!-Oh, art thou one of those

Spirits more lofty than our region knows?

Should we in thine the mother-language seek,

Souls in Elysium speak?

TO LAURA;

RAPTURE.

LAURA-above this world methinks I fly,
And feel the glow of some May-lighted sky,
When thy looks beam on mine!

And my soul drinks a more ethereal air,
When mine own shape I see reflected, there,
In those blue eyes of thine!

A lyre-sound from the Paradise afar,

A harp-note trembling from some gracious star,
Seems the wild ear to fill ;

And my muse feels the Golden Shepherd-hours,
When from thy lips the silver music pours
Slow, as against its will.

I see the young Loves flutter on the wing

Move the charm'd trees, as when the Thracian's string

Wild life to forests gave;

Swifter the globe's swift circle seems to fly,

When in the whirling dance thou glidest by,

Light as a happy wave.

Thy looks, when there Love's smiles their gladness wreathe,

Could life itself to lips of marble breathe ;

Lend rocks a pulse divine;

My wildest dreams a life would take, indeed,
If I but this in thy dear eyes might read-
Laura, sweet Lanra, mine!"

TO LAURA;

THE MYSTERY OF REMINISCENCE. 1

WHO, and what gave to me the wish to woo thee—
Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee?

Who made thy glances to my soul the link—
Who bade me burn thy very breath to drink—
My life in thine to sink?

As from the conqueror's unresisted glaive,
Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave-
So, in an instant, when thy looks I see,
Out from my life my soul's wild senses flee,

And yield themselves to thee!

Why from its lord doth thus my soul depart ?—
Is it because its native home thou art?

Or were they brothers in the days of yore,
Twin-bound, both souls; and in the links they bore
Sigh to be bound once more?

1 This exquisite love-poem is founded on the Platonic notion, that souls were united in a pre-existent state-that love is the yearning of the spirit to reunite with the spirit with which it formerly made one, and which it discovers on earth. The idea has often been made subservient to poetry, but never with so earnest and elaborate a beauty.

Were once our beings blent and intertwining,
And therefore still my heart for thine is pining?
Knew we the light of some extinguished sun-
The joys remote of some bright realm undone,
Where once our souls were ONE?

Yes, it is so !And thou wert bound to me
In the long-vanish'd Eld eternally!

In the dark troubled tablets which enroll
The Past-my Muse beheld this blessed scroll-
"One with thy love my soul!"

Wondering and awed-I read, I read it there,
How once one bright inseparate life we were,
How once, one glorious essence as a God,
Unmeasured space our chainless footsteps trod-
All Nature our abode !

Round us, in waters of delight, for ever
Voluptuous flow'd the heavenly Nectar river;
We were the master of the seal of things,

And where the sunshine bathed Truth's mountain-springs
Quiver'd our glancing wings.

Weep for the godlike life we lost afar—
Weep!-thou and I its scatter'd fragments are;
And still the unconquer'd yearning we retain-
Sigh to restore the rapture and the reign,

And grow divine again.

And therefore came to me the wish to woo thee-
Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee;

This made thy glances to my soul the link-
This made me burn thy very breath to drink-
My life in thine to sink :

And therefore, as before the conqueror's glaive,
Flies, without strife subdued, the ready slave—
So, in an instant, when thy looks I see,
Out from my life my soul's wild senses flee,
And yield themselves to thee.

Therefore my soul doth from its lord depart,
Because, belov'd, its native home thou art;
Because the twins recall the links they bore,
And soul with soul, in the sweet kiss of yore,
Meets and unites once more!

Thou too-Ah, there thy gaze upon me dwells, And thy young blush the tender answer tells; Each glowing soul still feels the kindred ties, Each as an exile to his homeward skies

Each to the other flies.