Ye guiding Powers, who join and part,

What would ye have with me?

Ah, warn some more ambitious heart,

And let the peaceful be!

N

III.

A DREAM.

Was it a dream? We sail'd, I thought we sail'd,
Martin and I, down a green Alpine stream,
Under o'erhanging pines; the morning sun,
On the wet umbrage of their glossy tops,

On the red pinings of their forest floor,

Drew a warm scent abroad; behind the pines

The mountain skirts, with all their sylvan change

Of bright-leaf'd chesnuts, and moss'd walnut-trees, And the frail scarlet-berried ash, began.

Swiss chalets glitter'd on the dewy slopes,

And from some swarded shelf high up, there came

Notes of wild pastoral music: over all

Rang'd, diamond-bright, the eternal wall of snow.
Upon the mossy rocks at the stream's edge,
Back'd by the pines, a plank-built cottage stood,
Bright in the sun; the climbing gourd-plant's leaves
Muffled its walls, and on the stone-strewn roof
Lay the warm golden gourds; golden, within,
Under the eaves, peer'd rows of Indian corn.
We shot beneath the cottage with the stream.
On the brown rude-carv'd balcony two Forms
Came forth-Olivia's, Marguerite! and thine.
Clad were they both in white, flowers in their breast;
Straw hats bedeck'd their heads, with ribbons blue
Which wav'd, and on their shoulders fluttering play'd.
They saw us, they conferr'd; their bosoms heav'd,
And more than mortal impulse fill'd their eyes.
Their lips mov'd; their white arms, wav'd eagerly,
Flash'd once, like falling streams :—we rose, we gaz'd:
One moment, on the rapid's top, our boat

Hung pois'd-and then the darting River of Life,
Loud thundering, bore us by: swift, swift it foam'd;

Black under cliffs it rac'd, round headlands shone.

Soon the plank'd cottage 'mid the sun-warm'd pines Faded, the moss, the rocks; us burning Plains Bristled with cities, us the Sea receiv'd.

IV.

PARTING.

YE storm-winds of Autumn

Who rush by, who shake

The window, and ruffle

The gleam-lighted lake;

Who cross to the hill-side

Thin-sprinkled with farms,

Where the high woods strip sadly

Their yellowing arms;

Ye are bound for the mountains

Ah, with you let me go

Where your cold distant barrier,
The vast range of snow,