"My Angelo! and why of them to be? "But, list, Ianthe! when the air so soft 0 Failed, as my pennon'd spirit leapt aloft, Perhaps my brain grew dizzy-but the world I left so late was into chaos hurled Sprang from her station, on the winds apart, But with a downward, tremulous motion through “We came—and to thy Earth—but not to us Be given our lady's bidding to discuss : We came, my love; around, above, below, She grants to us, as granted by her God- And thy star trembled-as doth Beauty's then!" Thus, in discourse, the lovers whiled away The night that waned and waned and brought no day. They fell for Heaven to them no hope imparts Who hear not for the beating of their hearts. TO THE RIVER FAIR river in thy bright, clear flow Of beauty--the unhidden heart The playful magazines of art In old Alberto's daughter; But when within thy wave she looks— Which glistens then, and tremblesWhy, then, the prettiest of brooks Her worshipper resembles; For in his heart, as in thy stream, Her image deeply lies His heart which trembles at the beam Of her soul-searching eyes. TAMERLANE. KIND solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin I have no time to dote or dream : If I can hope-Oh! I can— Its fount is holier-more divineI would not call thee fool, old man, But such is not a gift of thine. Know thou the secret of a spirit Bow'd from its wild pride into shame. O yearning heart! I did inherit Thy withering portion with the fame, The searing glory which hath shone Amid the jewels of my throne, Halo of Hell! and with a pain Not Hell shall make me fear again— O craving heart, for the lost flowers And sunshine of my summer hours! The undying voice of that dead time, With its interminable chime, Rings, in the spirit of a spell, Upon thy emptiness—a knell. I have not always been as now: I claimed and won usurpingly Hath not the same fierce heirdom given Rome to the Cæsar-this to me? The heritage of a kingly mind, |