II.

She died and never to my eye did death
Wear such a look of terror! It was not,
That beauty had departed with the breath
Of life-when the blue swelling vein forgot
Its active functions. Seldom this the lot
Of such sweet innocence; a charm is given,
Death even lingers to destroy-to blot

What Heaven regards and owns; and 'tis the seal of
Heaven!

It was, that she whom we had loved so well;
She, that had been so beautiful—so bright,

Had fled that earth, where we were doomed to dwell,
Had parted from us, like a shape of light;

Like lightning flashing through the gloom of night, Leaving intenser darkness; leaving fear,

Bewildering thoughts, confusedness of sight, And all that sinks the heart-that bids it tremble here!

IV.

But she hath passed-her sorrows are no more!
And though regret may mingle with long years
Of our humanity; though the eye must pour,
In very bitterness of heart, its tears,

And even our hopes, demonstrating our fears,
Precede us to the grave-'tis bliss, that o'er

The troubled world of waters, she nor hears Nor heeds the wind-swoln wave-her sorrows areno

more.

V.

And Death's calm sleep, she sleepeth!-Wild flowers

grow

Lavishly on the sod; flourishing there Reckless and pitiless of what below

spare

Moves silently to dust. The summer air Wafts many a gentle breath-the storm will Her quiet grave; 'tis sheltered, and secure : But what avails it? Bootless all that care; Will the dust give ye thank?-the sacrifice is poor!

VI.

Follow her footsteps; be ye pious, meek-
Let her fair memory dew thy withered heart;
Mark the sad tear-drop on her pallid cheek,
And let it comfort to thy soul impart:—
For deeper sorrow, than thou know'st did dart
Consuming fire upon her, yet she bore

Unmurmuringly her ills!-Whoe'er thou art Away, and do the like-her sorrows are no more!

November, 1820.

STANZAS TO MARIA.

AVE MARIA!-Many a form

Of beauty, lingers on my mind;

Like flowers that scattered by the storm

Yet leave their fragrance long breath behind. Bewildering eyes, and rose-wreathed cheeks, And crisped locks of luring gleam,

The memory of the past bespeaks—

And dear, though faint, the shadowy dream!

Ave Maria!-Far above

All other that my soul hath tried,

Thou passest with the glow of Love

O'er life's bedimmed and troublous tide:

For there's a melting radiance sent

Forth from thine eye's enthroned might;

Whose pure etherial element

Sparkles with intellectual light.

'Tis there alone that Love abides

Bathed by fresh streams of limpid dew; 'Tis there on twin-born waves he rides,

Where feeling, star-like, flashes through; Buoyant, he flings the red rose-leaf,

Thy blushing cheek and lip upon, And gayly laughs-that urchin-chief!To mark the lily's whiteness gone.

Ave Maria!-Is it so?

And canst thou love-and wilt thou share The heart, that would not pleasure know

While thine was touched with mortal care?

I may not bring thee costly gems,

Nor with tiaras bind thy browBut Love will spurn at diadems,

To win the life-unshaken vow!

Nor would I break my faith to thee,

Though for a throne-and wilt thou then,

Cast heedless from thy memory

The love, that seeks but love again? Thou may'st in sooth-thou may'st despise!But no, I'll not so poorly deem;

The living light of those sweet eyes

Beamed never with a scornful beam!

Yet if thou couldst not give thy heart
In full and free exchange for mine—
I'd bear the veriest wretch's part,

Ere link my proffered hand with thine!
I'd rather yield me up to death

Than to thy beauty—if to find

Thou'dst breathed to Heaven a perjured breath, And traced thy vows upon the wind.

Thou too would'st die, ere thus to be
A thing that should incur man's hate—

A hollow, smiling mockery,

Most gorgeous, when most desolate.

I know thou would'st-then love me, sweet!
Bid me not turn, and coldly say-
"A fairer form thine eye may meet,
"And bend beneath a fitter sway."

I care not for a fairer form

A fitter sway I will not seek;
Why should I quit a heart so warm,
To gaze upon a brighter cheek?
And thou, though haply thou may'st know
A higher and a worthier name,
Wilt meet with none to love thee so,

And burn with less diminished flame!