Where, half conceal'd, the eye of fancy views Fauns, nymphs, and winged saints, all gracious to thy muse! Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks, Of the trim vines, some maid that half believes ON A CATARACT FROM A CAVERN NEAR THE SUMMIT OF A MOUNTAIN PRECIPICE. UNPERISHING youth! STROPHE. Thou leapest from forth The cell of thy hidden nativity; Never mortal saw The cradle of the strong one; Never mortal heard The gathering of his voices; The deep-murmured charm of the son of the rock, It embosoms the roses of dawn, It entangles the shafts of the noon, santo libro d'Ovvidio, nel quale il sommo poeta mostra, come i santi fuochi di Venere si debbano ne' freddi cuori accendere." And into the bed of its stillness The moonshine sinks down as in slumber, That the son of the rock, that the nursling of heaven May be born in a holy twilight! ANTISTROPHE, The wild goat in awe Looks up and beholds Above thee the cliff inaccessible ;— Thou at once full-born Madd'nest in thy joyance, Whirlest, shatterest, splittest, LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT. AN ALLEGORIC ROMANCE. LIKE a lone Arab, old and blind Who sits beside a ruin'd well, Where the shy sand-asps bask and swell; And now the aid, which heaven alone can grart, And-whether 'twas a transient sleep, perchance, MENT 1: I watch'd the sickly calm with aimless scope, Drest as a bridesmaid, but all pale and cold, And then came Love, a sylph in bridal trim, And stood beside my seat; As she was wont to do ; Alas! 'twas but a chilling breath Anxious to associate the name of a most dear and honored friend with my own, I solicited and obtained the permission of Professor J. H. GREEN to permit the insertion of the two following poems, by him composed. S. T. COLERIDGE. MORNING INVITATION TO A CHILD. THE house is a prison, the school-room's a cell; And here and there turns his eye piercing and bright; Then jocund mounts up on his glorious car, levee, Spread sail to the breeze, and glide off in a bevy. Tree, and tree-tufted hedge-row, and, sparkling be tween Dewy meadows enamelled in gold and in green, With king-cups and daisies, that all the year please, Sprays, petals and leaflets, that nod in the breeze, With carpets, and garlands, and wreaths, deck the way And tempt the blithe spirit still onward to stray, Itself its own home;-far away! far away! The butterflies flutter in pairs round the bower; bounds, The horse in the meadow is stirred by the sound, CONSOLATION OF A MANIAC. THE feverous dream is past! and I awake, Again to ply the never ending toil, And bid the task-worn memory weave again The storm is past ;-but in the pause and hush, Despondency, in gray cold mantle clad, That dream, That dream, that dreadful dream, the potent spell, Still swells and vibrates in my throbbing brain! Prov'd traitor to my hopes;-and 'twas for her, |