Volume Vi Part 24 (1/2)

It died away--the palace changed, Dream-like, into a bower!

Around, the soft-eyed dun-deer ranged, Secure from hunter's power.

Wild thyme and eye-bright tinged the ground, With daisy, starry flower, While crimson flower-bells cl.u.s.ter'd round The rose-twined faery bower.

Therein ”Undine,” lovely sprite!

Sat gazing on sunrise, And sang of ”morning, clear and bright”-- The tears came in her eyes: She look'd upon the lovely isle, And now up to the skies, Then in a silv'ry misty veil She vanish'd from mine eyes.

A music, as of forest trees Bent 'neath the storm-blast's sway, Rose swelling--dying in the breeze, A strange, wild lullaby.

The islet with its flowery turf Then waxed dim and gray; I look'd--no islet gemm'd the surf-- The dream had fled away.

FAIR AS A STAR OF LIGHT.

Fair as a star of light, Like diamond gleaming bright, Through darkness of the night, Is my love to me.

As bell of lily white, In streamlet mirror'd bright, All quiv'ring with delight, Is my love to me-- My love to me.

A flowing magic thrill Which floodeth heart and will With gushes musical, Is my love to me.

Bright as the tranced dream, Which flitteth in a gleam, Before morn's golden beam, Is my love to me-- My love to me.

Like living crystal well, In cool and shady dell, Unto the parch'd gazelle, Is my love to me.

And dearer than things fair, However rich and rare, In earth, or sea, or air, Is my love to me-- My love to me.

NATURE MUSICAL.

There is music in the storm, love, When the tempest rages high; It whispers in the summer breeze A soft, sweet lullaby.

There is music in the night, When the joyous nightingale, Clear warbling, filleth with his song The hillside and the vale.

Then sing, sing, sing, For music breathes in everything.

There is music by the sh.o.r.e, love, When foaming billows dash; It echoes in the thunder peal, When vivid lightnings flash.

There is music by the sh.o.r.e, In the stilly noon of night, When the murmurs of the ocean fade In the clear moonlight.

There is music in the soul, love, When it hears the gus.h.i.+ng swell, Which, like a dream intensely soft, Peals from the lily-bell.

There is music--music deep In the soul that looks on high, When myriad sparkling stars sing out Their pure sphere harmony.

There is music in the glance, love, Which speaketh from the heart, Of a sympathy in souls That never more would part.

There is music in the note Of the cooing turtle-dove; There is music in the voice Of dear ones whom we love.

There is music everywhere, love, To the pure of spirit given; And sweetest music heard on earth But whispers that of heaven.