THE ARCTIC LOVER. GONE is the long, long winter night, How glorious, through his depths of light, Rolls the majestic sun. The willows, waked from winter's death, Give out a fragrance like thy breath— The summer is begun! Ay, 'tis the long bright summer day: The loosened ice-ridge breaks away— Seaward the glittering mountain rides, See, love, my boat is moored for thee, By ocean's weedy floor- More swiftly than my oar. We'll go where, on the rocky isles, THE ARCTIC LOVER. Or, bide thou where the poppy blows, Seek and defy the bear. Fierce though he be, and huge of frame, When crimson sky and flamy cloud I'll build of ice thy winter home, The white fox by thy couch shall play; The meteors of a mimic day Shall flash upon thine eyes. And I-for such thy vow-meanwhile Shall hear thy voice and see thy smile, Till that long midnight flies. 93 THE MASSACRE AT SCIO. WEEP not for Scio's children slain; Though high the warm red torrent ran And for each corpse, that in the sea A banquet for the mountain birds. Stern rites and sad, shall Greece ordain VERSION OF A FRAGMENT OF SIMONIDES THE night winds howled-the billows dashed Against the tossing chest ; And Danäe to her broken heart Her slumbering infant pressed, My little child-in tears she said- But thou canst sleep-thou dost not know Thy mother's lot, and thine. The moon is up, the moonbeams smile They tremble on the main; To me they smile in vain. Thy folded mantle wraps thee warm, As o'er thy sweet unconscious face |