From my remembering star. I waited only

Thy mother's strength to bear the common shock
Of death within the doors. She rose at last,

And, oh! so sweetly pale!

And thou, my child!

My heart misgave me as I look'd upon thee;
But he was ever at her side whose name
She murmur'd in her sleep; and, lingering on
To drink a little of thy sweetness more
Before I died, I watch'd their stolen love
As she had been my daughter, with a pure,
Passionless joy that I should leave her soon
To love him as she would. I know not how
To tell thee more.

Come, sweet! she is not worthy

Of tears like thine and mine!

*

She fled and left me

The very night! The poison was prepared—
And she had been a widow with the morn
Rich as Golconda. As the midnight chimed,
My star rose. Gazing on its mounting orb,
I raised the chalice-but a weakness came
Over my heart; and, taking up the lamp,
I glided to her chamber, and removed

The curtains for a last, a parting look
Upon my child.

Had she but taken thee,

I could have felt she had a mother's heart,

And drain'd the chalice still. I could not leave

My babe alone in such a heartless world!

ISIDORE.

Thank God! Thank God!

TO ERMENGARDE.

I KNOW not if the sunshine waste

The world is dark since thou art gone!
The hours are, oh! so leaden-paced!
The birds sing, and the stars float on,
But sing not well, and look not fair-
A weight is in the summer air,

And sadness in the sight of flowers;

And if I go where others smile,

Their love but makes me think of ours,
And heavier gets my heart the while.

Like one upon a desert isle,

I languish of the weary hours;

I never thought a life could be

So flung upon one hope, as mine, dear love, on thee!

I sit and watch the summer sky.

There comes a cloud through heaven alone;

A thousand stars are shining nigh-
It feels no light, but darkles on!

Yet now it nears the lovelier moon;

And, flushing through its fringe of snow,

There steals a rosier dye, and soon
Its bosom is one fiery glow!
The Queen of Light within it lies!
Yet mark how lovers meet to part!

The cloud already onward flies,

And shadows sink into its heart,

And (dost thou see them where thou art?)
Fade fast, fade all those glorious dyes!

Its light, like mine, is seen no more,
And, like my own, its heart seems darker than before!

Where press this hour those fairy feet?
Where look this hour those eyes of blue?
What music in thine ear is sweet?

What odour breathes thy lattice through?
What word is on thy lip? what tone—
What look-replying to thine own?
Thy steps along the Danube stray—
Alas! it seeks an orient sea!
Thou wouldst not seem so far away
Flow'd but its waters back to me!

I bless the slowly coming moon

Because its eye look'd late in thine!

I envy the west wind of June

Whose wings will bear it up the Rhine;

The flower I press upon my brow

Were sweeter if its like perfumed thy chamber now!