"By you-by yours, the evil eye,-by yours, the slanderous tongue

"That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?"

Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song

Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!

The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,

Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride

For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,

The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes

The life still there, upon her hair-the death upon her eyes.

"Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,

"But waft the angel on her flight with a Pæan of old days!

"Let no bell toll!-lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,

"Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.

"To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven

"From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven

"From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven.

1

HYMN.

At morn--at noon-at twilight dim-
Maria thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and woe-in good and ill-
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the Hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee.
Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine

With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

A VALENTINE.

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,

Brightly expressive as the twins of Loda. Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies

Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.

Search narrowly the lines! - they hold a treasure

Divine-a talisman-an amulet

That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure

The words the syllables! Do not forget The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!

And yet there is in this no Gordian knot Which one might not undo without a saber, If one could merely comprehend the plot.

Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering

Eyes scintillating soul, there lies perdus

Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing

Of poets, by poets-as the name is a poet's, too.

Its letters, although naturally lying

Like the knight Pinto-Mendez Ferdinando

Still form a synonym for Truth.-Cease trying!

You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.

[To translate the address, read the first letter of the first line in connection with the second letter of the second line, the third letter of the third line, the fourth of the fourth, and so on to the end. The name will thus appear.]

THE COLISEUM.

Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length-at length-after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within

My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!

Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation and dim Night!

I feel ye now-I feel ye in your strength-
O spells more sure than e'er Judæan king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!

O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!
Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!

Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair

Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!

Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,

Glides, specter-like, unto his marble home,
Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!

But stay! these walls-these ivy-clad arcadesThese moldering plinths-these sad and blackened shafts

These vague entablatures-this crumbling frieze

These shattered cornices — this wreck—this

ruin

These stones-alas! these gray stones-are they all

All of the famed, and the colossal left
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?

"Not all"-the Echoes answer me-"not all!
"Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever
"From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,
"As melody from Memnon to the Sun.

"We rule the hearts of mightiest men-we rule "With a despotic sway all giant minds. "We are not impotent-we pallid stones. "Not all our power is gone-not all our fame"Not all the magic of our high renown"Not all the wonder that encircles us"Not all the mysteries that in us lie"Not all the memories that hang upon "And cling around about us as a garment, "Clothing us in a robe of more than glory."

TO HELEN.

I saw thee once-once only-years ago:
I must not say how many-but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out

A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,

Sought a precipitate pathway up through 、 heaven,

There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,

With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no winds dared to stir, unless on tip-
toe-

Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death-
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, en-
chanted

By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence,
Clad all in white, upon a violet bank