Oh, hasten! oh, let us not linger!
Oh, fly!—let us fly!-- for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her

Wings until they trailed in the dust,-
In agony sobbed, letting sink her

Plumes till they trailed in the dust,—
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied, "This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendor is beaming

With Hope and in Beauty to-night :

See! it flickers up the sky through the night!

Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,

And be sure it will lead us aright. We safely may trust to a gleaming

That cannot but guide us aright,

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche, and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom,—
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,

But were stopped by the door of a tomb,
By the door of a legended tomb:
And I said, "What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied, " Ulalume!-Ulalume !—
'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!”

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere,-
As the leaves that were withering and sere:
And I cried, "It was surely October,—

On this very night of last year,

That I journeyed-I journeyed down here,-That I brought a dread burden down here: On this night, of all nights in the year, Ah, what demon has tempted me here? Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber,— This misty mid-region of Weir,—

Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber, This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

THE COLISEUM.

TYPE of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time

By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length--at length-after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!

Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now--I feel ye in your strength—
Oh, spells more sure than e'er Judean king

Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane !

Oh, charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!

HERE, WHERE A HERO FELL.

Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where a mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!

Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded

hair

Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!

Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,

Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,

Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!
But

stay! These walls-these ivy-clad
arcades-

These mouldering plinths-these sad and blackened shafts

These vague

frieze

These shattered

ruin

entablatures—this crumbling

cornices--this wreck-this

These stones-alas! these gray stones-are they all

All of the famed and the colossal left

By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?

66

Not all!" the echoes answered me. "Not

all!

Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever

From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,

As melody from Memnon to the Sun.

We rule the hearts of mightiest men!--we

rule

With a despotic sway all giant minds!
We are not impotent- we pallid stones.

Not all our power is gone!—not all our fame! -