LXIV.

But when they sought him he was stark and cold,

The loathing spirit had spurned off the clay

That to such crime had made it overbold:

Upon his breast a little blossom lay

Of amaranth, such as grows not in earth's mould; Whence it had come or how could no man say, But, after years had passed, it only showed

The fresher, and its gold more deeply glowed.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

PROMETHEUS.

ONE after one the stars have risen and set,
Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on my chain :
The Bear, that prowled all night about the fold
Of the North-star, hath shrunk into his den,
Scared by the blithesome footsteps of the Dawn,
Whose blushing smile floods all the Orient;
And now bright Lucifer grows less and less,
Into the heaven's blue quiet deep-withdrawn.
Sunless and starless all, the desert sky
Arches above me, empty as this heart