-that like the ephemera, she had been made perfect in loveliness only to die; but the terrors of the grave, to her, lay solely in a consideration which she revealed to me, one still evening at twilight, by the banks of the River of Silence. She grieved to think that, having entombed her in the Valley of the ManyColoured Grass, I would quit for ever its happy recesses, transferring the love which was now so passionately her own to some maiden of the outer and every-day world.

And then and there I threw myself hurriedly at the feet of Eleonora, and offered up a vow to herself and to Heaven that I would never bind myself in marriage to any daughter of earth-that I would in no manner prove recreant to her dear memory, or to the memory of the devout affection with which she had blessed me. And I called the Mighty Ruler of the universe to witness the pious solemnity of my vow. And the curse which I invoked of him, and of her, a saint in Elysium, should I prove traitorous to that promise, involved a penalty the exceeding great horror of which will not permit me to make record of it here. And the bright eyes of Eleonora grew brighter at my words; and she sighed as if a deadly burden had been taken from her breast; and she trembled and very bitterly wept; but she made acceptance of the vowfor what was she but a child? and it made easy to her the bed of her death. And she said to me, not many days afterwards, tranquilly dying, that because of what I had done for the comfort of her spirit, she would watch over me in that spirit when departed, and if so it were permitted her, return to me visibly in the watches of the night; but if this thing were indeed beyond the power of the souls in Paradise, that she would at least give me frequent indications of her presence, sighing upon me in the evening winds, or filling the air which I breathed with perfume from the censers of the angels. And with these words upon her lips she yielded up her innocent life, putting end to the first epoch of my own.

Thus far I have faithfully said; but as I pass the barrier in time's path formed by the death of my beloved, and proceed into the second era of my existence, I feel that a vague shadow gathers over my brain, and I mistrust the perfect sanity of the record. But let me on. Years dragged themselves along heavily, and still, with the aged mother of Eleonora, I dwelled within the Valley of the Many-Coloured Grass. A second change had come upon all things. The star-shaped flowers shrank into the stems of the trees, and appeared no more. The tints of the green carpet faded, and one by one the rubyred asphodels withered away, and there sprang up in place

them, ten by ten, dark eye-like violets that quivered uneasily. And life departed from our paths; for the tall flamingo flaunted no longer his scarlet plumage before us, but flew sadly from the vale into the hills, with all the gay, glowing birds that had arrived in his company. And the golden and silver fish swam down through the gorge at the lower end of our domain, and bedecked the sweet river never again. And the lulling melody that had been softer than the wind harp of Eolus, and more divine than all save the voice of Eleonora-it died, little by little, away, in murmurs growing lower and lower, until the stream returned at length utterly into the solemnity of its original silence. And then, lastly, the voluminous cloud uprose and abandoning the tops of the mountains to the dimness of old, fell back into the regions of Hesper, and took away all its manifold golden and gorgeous glories from the Valley of the Many-Coloured Grass.

Yet the promises of Eleonora were not forgotten; for I heard the sounds of the swinging of the censers of the angels; and streams of a holy perfume floated ever and ever about the valley; and at lone hours, when my heart beat heavily, the winds that bathed my brow came unto me laden with soft sighs; and indistinct murmurs filled often the night air; and onceoh, but once only-I was awakened from a slumber like unto the slumber of death, by the pressing of spiritual lips upon

mine own.

But the void within my heart refused even thus to be filled. I longed-I madly pined for the love which had before filled it to overflowing. At length the valley pained me through its memories of Eleonora, and I left it for ever for the vanities and the turbulent triumphs of the world.

I found myself within a strange Eastern city, where all things might have served to blot from recollection the sweet dreams I had dreamed so long in the Valley of the Many-Coloured Grass. The pumps and pageantries of a stately court, and the mad clangour of arms, and the radiant loveliness of woman, bewildered and intoxicated my brain. But as yet my soul had proved true to her vows, and the indications of the presence of Eleonora were still given me in the silent hours of the night. Suddenly these manifestations ceased, and the world grew dark before my eyes, and I stood aghast at the burning thoughts which possessed, at the terrible temptations which beset me for there came from some far distant and unknown land, into the gay court of the king I served, a fair-haired and slender maiden, to whose beauty my whole recreant heart

1

yielded at once-at whose footstool I bowed down, without a struggle, in the most ardent, in the most abject worship of love.

What, indeed, was the passion I had once felt for the young girl of the Valley, in comparison with the madness, and the glow, and the fervour, and the spirit-stirring ecstacy of adoration with which I poured out my soul in tears at the feet of the lady Ermengarde? Oh! bright was the lady Ermengarde ! I looked down into the blue depths of her meaning eyes, and I thought only of them, and of her. Oh, lovely was the lady Ermengarde! and in that knowledge I had room for none other. Oh, glorious was the wavy flow of her auburn tresses ! and I clasped them in a transport of joy to my bosom. And I found rapture in the fantastic grace of her step-and there was a wild delirium in the love I bore her, when I started to see upon her countenance the radical transition from tears to smiles that I had wondered at in the long-lost Eleonora. I forgot-I despised the horrors of the curse I had so blindly invoked, and I wedded the lady Ermengarde.

I wedded, nor dreaded the curse I had invoked, and its bitterness was not visited upon me. And in the silence of the night there came once again through my lattice the soft sighs which had forsaken me, and they modelled themselves into a sweet voice, saying "Sleep in peace; for the spirit of Love reigneth and ruleth; and in taking to thy passionate heart her who is Ermengarde, thou art absolved, for reasons which shall be made known to thee in Heaven, of thy vows unto Eleonora."

SWEET is the joy that brightens in the eye
Of the rapt poet, when the fancies high
That flash'd in glorious visions on his soul,

Are clothed in words, and group'd in one consistent whole
Sweet is the sculptor's rapture, in the hour
That sees the triumph of his plastic power;
When the last touch of his Promethean art,
Bids into life the breathing marble start;
Sweet to the mother's heart the thrill of joy,
When the soft breathing of her first-born boy
Comes to her ear, soothes all her anxious breast,
And bids each throb of anguish sink to rest,
Sweet to the lover's ear the gentle voice
Of her, whose virtues fix'd his early choice,
When first, responding to his vows of love,
Her faltering accents all his suit approve :-
But not so sweet, as when in Portia's breast
The proud and generous feeling stands confess'd,
Triumphant o'er the malice of the Jew,
Whose iron-bound soul no touch of pity knew.

*See plate so entitled.