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« My song halh an under-strain within,
« To deaden thy footstep's fall. • A kingly wizard - fair girl, is Time
«Each shining flower he sears« And peals on high like a death-bell's chime
«His chorus of «Thirty years.n
The thirty years are fled -
These glorious wreaths are dead.
As the morris of twinkling fays: We ask in vain on the festal floor,
In the dancers' circling maze.
Her faded bloom to seek-
When Time hath blanched her cheek.
Beside its fallen shrine-
No Priest to pour the wine-
Hold !-«Murder will — be out,»
But a matron plump "and stout.
These are her daughters four-
She hath full 'half-a-score.
Of sentiment and rills,
Or a knot of Daffodils.
And learnt a newer passion
And flowers are out of fashion :
With nightingales and trees,
And sighs on every breeze.
And music on the waters 'T is of «glory » now for these stalwart youths
And of rent-rolls for her daughters.
No longer the grim old tyrant's voice is',
With a shuddering start she hears, it
« T'is well after Thirty years...'
Showeth the History of ayoung Poet, and how he foiled the knavery
of Time by prematurely bidding Good-b’ye to him.
With folded arms a Poet stood
On a river's winding bank - '
The boughs as they rose and sank.
Their shadowy hand had laid,
Or darken his dreams with shade.
Such as Endymion heard-
O'er slumbering Latmos stirred
Green tree and flower and sky
To gladden and glorify.
To him was a wood-nymph's cell :
A fairy's silver bell-
At heaven's own portal hung-
From a' Naiad's reed was flung;
Or a minster-spire ascend,
That did not to his musings lone
A holy meaning lend.
Before his favcy shine ? ;
And the banquet's purple wine ?
Once more before his eye-
And pale girls watching by ?
May chaunt the Maenad hymn-
In the temple's twilight dim-
Than Faun or Antique Fane-
Awakes a nobler strain.
«How bountiful thou art« Through all thy world in joy outbreathies
«The universal heart. # As tranquil is this valley now
«As still these clustering trees « As the thin smoke that climbeth up
«From yonder villages, « Above-around-the soul directs
Its visionary flight« The very air sighs like a prayer
« Of sainted Eremite. « How calm ! the little shepherd-girl . «That sitteth by the brook By turns to pluck the, water-cress
«And con ler « sacred book, » «A very Image is of Rest
u An Emblem sanctified* As though good Angels, as of old,
«Were watching by her side. « Enough to fill the yearning heart
With Thanks-giving is here, . When with so deep a benison
'High heaven to earth draws ncar. « Ho! Ho!» quoth Time « 't'is wondrous well
Sir Poet! bul years steal past; * And the colours that flush thy heart to-day
«Shall wither and drop at last.
The spell-that in the desart limns
«Thy phantom Oases, « And bringeth near to thy weary ear
« The murmur of birds and trees «Will pass away, like the false Mirage
That mocks the Arab's haste,
«On the world's unbroken waste.
«'T'is the Poet's lot to feast,
«Lacks not or fee or Priest. '«A noble steed is Pegasus,
«Who needs nor groom nor oats ;
« At his hand no tinselled coats,
Craves not or plough or steers-
« In the flight of « Thirty years."
Too well doth the ancient seer foretell-
In shadows lies his head.
At the Temple-gate of Fame-
At the youthful stranger's name.
And his dreamy song belied —
And bowed to earth and died. (4)
(") John Keats.
THE HISTORY OF THE JEWS IN SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.
BY JAMES FINN.
Sephardim is the title of an interesting and unpretending volume on the history of the Jews in Spain and Portugal, from their first appearance in the Peninsula to their expulsion from it by « the most Catholic sovereigns » of Castile and Arragon, it traces their various fortunes under the generally tolerant sway of the Roman empire, their depressed and perilous existence under the Gothie monarchy, their free and prosperous condition in the brilliant era of the Arabs, and their renewed sufferings and final banishment when the Peninsula was again brought under one government and one failh. Il exbibits them under the opposite aspects of agriculturists and merchants, as the rulers of their own communities, or the ministers of state and finance to their Christian or Moorish masters; at one time resuming, under the protection of the crescent, their oriental splendour and stateliness; at another, under the oppression of the cross, as the servants of servants, or veiling their ineradicable Hebraism beneath the strange guise of monks, bishops, or inquisitors. It displays their singular proficiency in some deparlments of science and literature, and their equally singular rejection of other elements of European civilization. Recent events have once more