ΤΟ Nor long ago, the writer of these lines, In the mad pride of intellectuality, Maintained "the power of words"-denied that ever A thought arose within the human brain Beyond the utterance of the human tongue : By angels dreaming in the moonlit "dew That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill,”— Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart, Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought, Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions Than even seraph harper, Israfel, (Who has "the sweetest voice of all God's creatures,") Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling, To where the prospect terminates-thee only. ULALUM E. THE skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sereThe leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of WeirIt was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. Here once, through an alley Titanic, These were days when my heart was volcanic] As the scoriac rivers that roll As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek In the ultimate climes of the poleThat groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek In the realms of the boreal pole. Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts they were palsied and sere— Our memories were treacherous and sere For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year— (Ah, night of all nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Auber (Though once we had journeyed down here)Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. And now, as the night was senescent, As the star-dials hinted of morn At the end of our path a liquescent Arose with a duplicate horn Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn. And I said "She is warmer than Dian: She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes— With love in her luminous eyes." But Psyche, uplifting her finger, Said "Sadly this star I mistrust Her pallor I strangely mistrust : |