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TO THE NEW-BORN.

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TO THE NEW-BORN.'

A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes and fears!

A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled smiles and tears.

Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and chasten'd heart,

For a solemn gift from God thou com'st, all precious as thou art!

I see thee not asleep, fair boy, upon thy mother's breast,

Yet well I know how guarded there shall be thy rosy rest;

And how her soul with love, and prayer, and gladness, will o'erflow,

While bending o'er thy soft-seal'd eyes, thou dear one, well I know!

A blessing on thy gentle head! and bless'd thou art in truth,

For a home where God is felt, awaits thy childhood and thy youth:

Around thee pure and holy thoughts shall dwell as light and air,

And steal unto thine heart, and wake the germs now folded there.

1 Addressed to the child of her eldest brother.

Smile on thy mother! while she feels that unto her

is given,

In that young day-spring glance the pledge of a soul to rear for heaven!

Smile! and sweet peace be o'er thy sleep, joy o'er thy wakening shed!

Blessings and blessings evermore, fair boy! upon thy head!

THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS.

SHE came forth in her bridal robes array'd,
And 'midst the graceful statues, round the hall
Shedding the calm of their celestial mien,
Stood pale yet proudly beautiful, as they:
Flowers in her bosom, and the star-like gleam
Of jewels trembling from her braided hair,
And death upon her brow!-but glorious death!
Her own heart's choice, the token and the seal
Of love, o'ermastering love; which, till that hour,
Almost an anguish in the brooding weight
Of its unutterable tenderness,

Had burden'd her full soul. But now,

oh! now,

Its time was come-and from the spirit's depths, The passion and the mighty melody

Of its immortal voice, in triumph broke,

Like a strong rushing wind!

The soft pure air

Came floating through that hall-the Grecian air, Laden with music-flute-notes from the vales,

THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS.

Echoes of song-
-the last sweet sounds of life
And the glad sunshine of the golden clime
Stream'd, as a royal mantle, round her form-
The glorified of love! But she-she look'd
Only on him for whom 'twas joy to die,
Deep-deepest, holiest joy!-or if a thought
Of the warm sunlight, and the scented breeze,
And the sweet Dorian songs, o'erswept the tide
Of her unswerving soul-'t was but a thought
That own'd the summer loveliness of life
For him a worthy offering!-So she stood
Wrapt in bright silence, as entranced awhile
Till her eye kindled, and her quivering frame
With the swift breeze of inspiration shook,
As the pale priestess trembles to the breath
Of inborn oracles!-then flush'd her cheek,
And all the triumph, all the agony,

Borne on the battling waves of love and death,
All from her woman's heart, in sudden song,
Burst like a fount of fire.

66
"I

go, I go!

215

Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go

Far from thy light to dwell:

Thou shalt not find my place below, Dim is that world-bright sun of Greece, farewell!

"The laurel and the glorious rose
Thy glad beam yet may see,
But where no purple summer glows,

O'er the dark wave I haste from them and thee.

"Yet doth my spirit faint to part?
-I mourn thee not, O sun!

Joy, solemn joy, o'erflows my heart,
Sing me triumphal songs!—my crown is won!

"Let not a voice of weeping rise-
My heart is girt with power!
Let the green earth and festal skies
Laugh, as to grace a conqueror's closing hour!

"For thee, for thee, my bosom's lord!

Thee, my soul's loved! I die;

Thine is the torch of life restored,

Mine, mine the rapture, mine the victory!

"Now may the boundless love, that lay
Unfathom'd still before,

In one consuming burst find way,
In one bright flood all, all its riches pour!

"Thou know'st, thou know'st what love is now,

Its glory and its might

Are they not written on my brow?
And will that image ever quit thy sight?

"No! deathless in thy faithful breast,
There shall my memory keep

Its own bright altar-place of rest,
While o'er my grave the cypress branches weep.

"Oh, the glad light!—the light is fair,
The soft breeze warm and free;

And rich notes fill the scented air,

And all are gifts-my love's last gifts to thee!

THE HOME OF LOVE.

217

"Take me to thy warm heart once more! Night falls-my pulse beats low:

Seek not to quicken, to restore

Joy is in every pang-I go, I go!

66

"I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath,
I meet thy fond look still;

Keen is the strife of love and death;
Faint and yet fainter grows my bosom's thrill.

"Yet swells the tide of rapture strong, Though mists o'ershade mine eye! -Sing, Pæan! sing a conqueror's song! For thee, for thee, my spirit's lord, I die!"

THE HOME OF LOVE.

THOU mov'st in visions, love!-Around thy way, E'en through this world's rough path and changeful day,

For ever floats a gleam,

Not from the realms of moonlight or the morn,
But thine own soul's illumined chambers born-
The colouring of a dream!

Love, shall I read thy dream?-oh! is it not
All of some sheltering, wood-embosom'd spot-
A bower for thee and thine?

Yes! lone and lowly is that home; yet there
Something of heaven in the transparent air
Makes every flower divine.

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