Hers are the eyes which, over and beneath, The sky and sea bend on thee,—which can draw, The allotted bondman of her palm and wreath. This is that Lady Beauty, in whose praise Thy voice and hand shake still,-long known to thee By flying hair and fluttering hem, the beat Following her daily of thy heart and feet, How passionately and irretrievably, In what fond flight, how many ways and days! VENUS VERTICORDIA. (For a Picture.) SHE hath the apple in her hand for thee, 6 Haply, Behold, he is at peace,' saith she; Alas! the apple for his lips,-the dart That follows its brief sweetness to his heart,The wandering of his feet perpetually !' A little space her glance is still and coy; But if she give the fruit that works her spell, Those eyes shall flame as for her Phrygian boy. Then shall her bird's strained throat the woe foretell, And her far seas moan as a single shell, And through her dark grove strike the light of Troy. CASSANDRA. (For a Drawing.*) I. REND, rend thine hair, Cassandra: he will go. II. ‘O Hector, gone, gone, gone! O Hector, thee The ground-stone quits the wall,-the wind hath And higher and higher the wings of fire are free. O Paris, Paris! O thou burning brand, Thou beacon of the sea whence Venus rose, Lighting thy race to shipwreck ! Even that hand Wherewith she took thine apple let her close Within thy curls at last, and while Troy glows Lift thee her trophy to the sea and land.' *The subject shows Cassandra prophesying among her kindred, as Hector leaves them for his last battle. They are on the plat form of a fortress, from which the Trojan troops are marching out. Helen is arming Paris; Priam soothes Hecuba; and Andromache holds the child to her bosom. PANDORA. (For a Picture.) WHAT of the end, Pandora? Was it thine, A deadly thing? and that all men might see What of the end? These beat their wings at will, ON REFUSAL OF AID BETWEEN NATIONS. Nor that the earth is changing, O my God! now Beneath thine hand so many nations bow, So many kings:-not therefore, O my God!— But because Man is parcelled out in men That the earth falls asunder, being old. ON THE 'VITA NUOVA' OF DANTE. As he that loves oft looks on the dear form And guesses how it grew to womanhood, How grew such presence from man's shameful swarm. And simple like a child; with whose clear aid DANTIS TENEBRÆ. (In Memory of my Father.) AND did'st thou know indeed, when at the font Where to the hills her poet's foot-track lies Where he that holds his journey stands at gaze Tow'rd sunset, when the clouds like a new height Seem piled to climb. These things I understand: For here, where day still soothes my lifted face, On thy bowed head, my father, fell the night. BEAUTY AND THE BIRD. SHE fluted with her mouth as when one sips, A grain, who straightway praised her name in song: Now turned on me and laughed, I heard the throng Of inner voices praise her golden head. A MATCH WITH THE MOON. WEARY already, weary miles to-night I walked for bed and so, to get some ease, Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish ;- And if I faced on her, looked innocent. But just at parting, halfway down a dell, two She kissed me for good-night. So you'll not tell. AUTUMN IDLENESS. THIS Sunlight shames November where he grieves In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun The day, though bough with bough be over-run. But with a blessing every glade receives |