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There was good store of sweet and sheening cherries,

Gather'd from trees that under water grew

In mystic orchards, and the best wood berries

That blush in scarlet ripeness through the dew,
And tiny plums, round, and of blooming blue,
And golden apples of a fairy size,

And glossy nuts, the which brown squirrels drew,
Eyeing them longingly, with sly, dark eyes,
And stealing, when they could, a little hazel prize.

The glow-worms waited on the fairies' mirth,
And when the stars of heaven were all asleep,
They lamp'd the grassy chambers of the earth,
And in an emerald light the air did steep!
Such tears, perchance, the happy angels weep,
Radiant with joy. They gave the quiet green
A richness, as though wonders from the deep
Were cull'd and cast there in unsullied sheen,
To glitter for a night, and never more be seen!

The evening's roses in the sky departed,

And their fallen leaves lay scatter'd in the west; The clustering fays, so light and merry-hearted, All towards the water's snowy margent press'd; The swans came gliding from their reeded nest,

And bow'd their serpent necks before the throng; Suddenly fairy voices broke the rest

Of the charm'd air, and sent the waves along,
To their advancing queen a welcome and a song!

Across the sleeping waters' charmed levels

The hailed queen came in a curved shell,

Drawn by two tiny swans, to those quaint revels,-
Swans that were whiter than the snow-drop's bell,
And small as wrens: their lifted wings did well

Mantle their wreathing necks:—at first they seem'd To be reflections, wrought by fairy spell,

Of those two birds that all the summer dream'd
Over the sylvan waves in which their bosoms gleam'd.

And very beautiful was that young queen,
Even to the eyes that were with beauty cloy'd;
Within her shell car did she sit serene,

Lightly across that happy water buoyed;
The very air her countenance enjoy'd,
Kissing its sister roses, On her brow
The fair and fairy ringlets gently toy'd,

And all around that brow did violets grow,
Or so in sooth they seem'd, so freshly did they blow.

Her bodice was a pretty sight to see;

Ye who would know its colour, be a thief
Of the rose's muffled bud from off the tree,
And for your knowledge, strip it leaf by leaf,
Spite of your own remorse or Flora's grief,

Till ye have come unto its heart's pale hue,
The last, last leaf, which is the queen-the chief
Of beautiful dim blooms,-ye shall not rue,
At sight of that sweet leaf, the mischief which ye do.

She glided to the earth from her small car,

As though she were of air, or e'en more light; The swan-drawn shell did vanish like a star That falleth from the steady heavens at night.

Ah! fairy queen, why is thy form so bright?
Why are thine eyes so fair? Can mortal be
Safe in his regular pulse, to have the sight
Of beauty so divine? Ah! quickly flee,-
Or less ethereal seem, or others make like thee.

DARKNESS.

Byron.

I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream :
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless and pathless, and the icy earth

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;

Morn came, and went-and came, and brought no day,

And men forgot their passions in the dread

Of this their desolation; and all hearts

Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light;

And they did live by watch fires; and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings-the huts,

The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gather'd round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face.
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash-and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits

H

The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept, and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed

Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again

With curses cast them down upon the dust,

And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,

And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous: and vipers crawl'd
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless-they were slain for food:
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom. No love was left,-
All earth was but one thought-and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang

Of famine fed upon all entrails ;-men

Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,-
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept›
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answer'd not with a caress--he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies; they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place,

Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,

And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame,
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld

IT

Each other's aspects-saw, and shriek'd, and died—
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,

Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written-Fiend.-

ADDRESS TO THE ALHAMBRA.

PALACE of beauty! where the Moorish lord,
King of the bow, the bridle, and the sword,
Sat like a genie in the diamond's blaze.
Oh! to have seen thee in the ancient days,
When at thy morning gates the coursers stood,
The "thousand," milk-white, Yemen's fiery blood,
In pearl and ruby harness'd for the king;

1

And through thy portals pour'd the gorgeous flood
Of jewell'd Sheik and Emir hastening,

Before the sky the dawning purple show'd,
Their turbans at the Caliph's feet to fling.
Lovely thy morn— -thy evening lovelier still,
When at the waking of the first blue star
That trembled on the Atalaya hill,
The splendours of the trumpet's voice arose,
Brilliant and bold, and yet no sound of war;
It summon'd all thy beauty from repose,

Croly.

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