VI.

ABSENCE.

In this fair stranger's eyes of gray
Thine eyes, my love, I see.

I shudder for the passing day
Had borne me far from thee.

This is the curse of life: that not

A nobler calmer train

Of wiser thoughts and feelings blot Our passions from our brain;

But each day brings its petty dust
Our soon-chok'd souls to fill,

And we forget because we must,
And not because we will.

I struggle towards the light; and ye,
Once long'd-for storms of love!
If with the light ye cannot be,

I bear that ye remove.

I struggle towards the light; but oh,
While yet the night is chill,

Upon Time's barren, stormy flow,
Stay with me, Marguerite, still!

RICHMOND HILL.

MURMUR of living!

Stir of existence !

Soul of the world!

Make, oh make yourselves felt To the dying Spirit of Youth! Come, like the breath of the Spring! Leave not a human soul

To grow old in darkness and pain.

Only the living can feel you,

But leave us not while we live !

A MODERN SAPPHO.

THEY are gone: all is still: Foolish heart dost thou

quiver?

Nothing moves on the lawn but the quick lilac shade. Far up gleams the house, and beneath flows the river. Here lean, my head, on this cool balustrade.

Ere he come : ere the boat, by the shining-branch'd

border

Of dark elms come round, dropping down the proud

stream;

Let me pause, let me strive, in myself find some order, Ere their boat-music sound, ere their broider'd flags

gleam.

Is it hope makes me linger? the dim thought, that

sorrow

Means parting? that only in absence lies pain?

It was well with me once if I saw him: to-morrow

May bring one of the old happy moments again.

Last night we stood earnestly talking together

She enter'd

that moment his eyes turn'd from me. Fasten'd on her dark hair and her wreath of white

heather

As yesterday was, so to-morrow will be.

Their love, let me know, must grow strong and yet stronger,

Their passion burn more, ere it ceases to burn:

They must love—while they must: But the hearts that love longer

Are rare ah! most loves but flow once, and return.

I shall suffer; but they will outlive their affection:
I shall weep; but their love will be cooling: and he,
As he drifts to fatigue, discontent, and dejection,
Will be brought, thou poor heart! how much nearer to
thee!

For cold is his eye to mere beauty, who, breaking
The strong band which beauty around him hath furl'd,
Disenchanted by habit, and newly awaking,
Looks languidly round on a gloom-buried world.

Through that gloom he will see but a shadow appearing, Perceive but a voice as I come to his side:

But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing, Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.

Then

- to wait. But what notes down the wind, hark! are driving?

'Tis he! 'tis the boat, shooting round by the trees! Let my turn, if it will come, be swift in arriving! Ah! hope cannot long lighten torments like these.

Hast thou yet dealt him, O Life, thy full measure?
World, have thy children yet bow'd at his knee?
Hast thou with myrtle-leaf crown'd him, O Pleasure?
Crown, crown him quickly, and leave him for me.