From a spring but a very few
Feet under ground-

From a cavern not very far

Down under ground.

And ah! let it never
Be foolishly said.

That my room it is gloomy

And narrow my bed;

For man never slept

In a different bed

And, to sleep, you must slumber In just such a bed.

My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes.
Forgetting, or never
Regretting its roses-
Its old agitations

Of myrtles and roses:

For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies

A holier odor

About it, of pansiesA rosemary odor,

Commingled with pansiesWith rue and the beautiful Puritan pansies.

And so it lies happily,
Bathing in many

A dream of the truth

And the beauty of Annie

Drowned in a bath

Of the tresses of Annie.

She tenderly kissed me,
She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently

To sleep on her breast-
Deeply to sleep

From the heaven of her breast.

When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm-
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.

And I lie so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
(Knowing her love)

That you fancy me dead-
And I rest so contentedly,
Now in my bed,

(With her love at my breast)

That you fancy me deadThat you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead:

But my heart it is brighter

Than all of the many

Stars in the sky,

For it sparkles with Annie

It glows with the light

Of the love of my AnnieWith the thought of the light

Of the eyes of my Annie.

TO

I heed not that my earthly lot
Hath-little of Earth in it-
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute:-
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate
Who am a passer by.

BRIDAL BALLAD.

THE ring is on my hand,

And the wreath is on my brow;
Satins and jewels grand
Are all at my command,

And I am happy now.

And my lord he loves me well;

But, when first he breathed his vow,

I felt my bosom swell

For the words rang as a knell,

And the voice seemed his who fell

In the battle down the dell,
And who is happy now.

But he spoke to re-assure me,
And he kissed my pallid brow,
While a reverie came o'er me,
And to the church-yard bore me,
And I sighed to him before me,
Thinking him dead D'Elormie,
"Oh, I am happy now!"'

And thus the words were spoken,
And this the plighted vow,
And, though my faith be broken,
And, though my heart be broken,
Behold the golden token

That proves me happy now!

Would God I could awaken!
For I dream I know not how,
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,-
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.

TO F

Beloved! amid the earnest woes
That crowd around my earthly path-
(Drear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)—

My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me

Like some enchanted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea—

Some ocean throbbing far and free

With storms-but where meanwhile Serenest skies continually

Just o'er that one bright island smile.

Alessandra. Thou art sad, Castiglione.
Castiglione. Sad!-not I.

Oh, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome! A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra,

Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy! Aless. Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing

Thy happiness!-what ails thee, cousin of

mine?

Why didst thou sigh so deeply?

Cas. Did I sigh?

I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion,
A silly-a most silly fashion I have

When I am very happy. Did I sigh? (sighing)
Aless. Thou didst. Thou art not well.
Thou hast indulged

Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.
Late hours and wine, Castiglione,-these
Will ruin thee! thou art already altered-
Thy looks are haggard-nothing so wears away
The constitution as late hours and wine.

Cas. (musing.) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing-not even deep sorrow

Wears it away like evil hours and wine.
I will amend.