MELANI E. I. I STOOD on yonder rocky brow,* And marvell'd at the Sybil's fane, When I was not what I am now. My life was then untouch'd of pain; And all things that were true and fair Lay closely to my loving eye, With nothing shadowy between I was a boy of seventeen. * The story is told during a walk around the Cascatelles of Tivoli. B Yon wondrous temple crests the rock, As light, upon its giddy base, As stirless with the torrent's shock, As pure in its proportioned grace, And seems a thing of air, as then, Afloat above this fairy glen ; But though mine eye will kindle still In looking on the shapes of art, The link is lost that sent the thrill, Like lightning, instant to my heart. And thus may break, before we die, Th' electric chain 'twixt soul and eye! Ten years-like yon bright valley, sown Alternately with weeds and flowers Had swiftly, if not gaily, flown, And still I lov'd the rosy Hours; And if there lurk'd within my breast Some nerve that had been overstrung And quiver'd in my hours of rest, Like bells by their own echo rung, I was with Hope a masquer yet, And well could hide the look of sadness And, if my heart would not forget, I knew, at least, the trick of gladness, I mingled in the old refrain. 'Twere idle to remember now, Had I the heart, my thwarted schemes. I bear beneath this alter'd brow The ashes of a thousand dreams Some wrought of wild Ambition's fingers, But none of which a shadow lingers, Life had no joy, and scarce a pain, Whose wells I had not tasted deep; And from my lips the thirst had pass'd For every fount save one- the sweetest -and the last. The last the last! My friends were dead, The sea had lock'd its hiding wave; And love had perish'd in my clasp; When plague and ruin bid him flee, The last of the De Brevern race, My sister claimed no kinsman's care; The eye stole upward unaware- And, for a brief but blessed while, There seemed no care for Melanie If she could see her brother smile; And knew I, with prophetic heart, II. We came to Italy. I felt A yearning for its sunny sky; My very spirit seem'd to melt As swept its first warm breezes by. From lip and cheek a chilling mist, From life and soul a frozen rime, By every breath seem'd softly kiss'd God's blessing on its radiant clime! It was an endless joy to me To see my sister's new delight; |