That only in the vague, cold realm of Thought
Shall I meet thee whom here I seek in vain;
And like Egyptian Isis when she sought
The scattered fragments of Osiris slain,
Now do I know that henceforth I shall find
But fragments of thy soul within earth's clay enshrined.
Thou whom I have not seen and shall not see
Till the sad drama of this life be o'er!
Yet do I not renounce my faith in thee:
Thou still art mine-I thine for evermore;
And this belief shall be the funeral pyre
Of all less noble love, of all less high desire.
Here, like the Hindoo widow, I will bring
Hope, youth, and all that woman prizes most-
The glow of summer and the bloom of spring,
And on thine altar lay the holocaust:
And, in my faith exulting, I will see
The sacrifice consume I consecrate to thee.
To Love's sweet tones my heart shall never thrill;.
Nor, as the tardy years their circles roll,
Shall they the ardour of its pulses chill;
Thus will I live in widowhood of soul,,
Until, at last, my lingering exile o'er,
Upon some lovelier star, too blest, we meet once more.
Oh, tell me not that now indeed I dream :
That these aspirings mocked at last will be!
Gleams of a higher life to me they seem-
A sacred pledge of immortality.
Tell not the yearning heart it shall not find:
O Love, thou art too strong! O God, thou art too kind!
LAST NIGHT I WAS DREAMING OF YOU!
LAST night I was dreaming of you!
Methought that you came to my door,.
And, spake in such language as I
Ne'er heard you address me before:
You told me, nigh twelvemonths had fled,.
Since first you love's passion.confess'd,
And thought it now really high time
That you with my hand should be blest..
Yes, last night I was dreaming of you!
You show'd me the ring you had bought,
And vow'd that as pure as the gold,
Your love unto me should remain,
Say, then could I venture to scold?
The scene chang'd, and oh! the sweet bells
Their music sent forth through the glen,
The happiest of women was I,
And you were the happiest of men.
Yes-last night I was dreaming of you!
WHERE the rough crags lift, and the sea mews call, Yet stands Earl Hubert's castle tall:
Close at the base of its western wall
The chafed waters stand at bay;
And the May-rose twined in its banquet hall
Dips to the circling spray.
For the May-rose springs, and the ivy clings,
And the wall-flower flaunts in the ruined bower,
And the sea-bird foldeth her weary wings
Up in the stone-gray tower.
Scaling an arch of the postern rude,
A wild vine dips to the ocean's flow;
Deep in the niches of the blind owl's brood,
And the fringing moss hangs low
Where stout Earl Hubert's banner stood
Five hundred years ago!
Out from the castle's western wall'
Jutteth a tower round and tall,
And leading up to the parapet
By a winding turret-stair;
Over the sea there looketh yet
A chamber small and square,
Where the faint daylight comes in alone
Through a narrow slit in the solid stone;
And here, old records say,
Earl Hubert bore his wayward child
From courts and gallants gay
That, guarded by the billows wild,
And cloistered from her lover's arms,
Here might she mourn her wasted charms,
Here weep her youth away.
"One-two!" said the sentinel,
Pacing his rounds by the eastern tower.
Up in the turret a solemn knell
Tolled for the parting hour;
Over the ocean its echo fell-
"One! two!" like a silver bell
Chiming afar in the sea-nymph's bower.
Shrill and loud was the sea-bird's cry,
The watch-dog bayed as the moon rose high,
The great waves swelled below;
And the measured splash of a dipping oar
Broke softly through their constant roar,
And paused beneath the shade
Flung westward by that turret hoar
Where slept the prisoner maid.
The sentinel paced to and fro
Under the castle parapet,
But, in her chamber, Juliette
Heard not the tramp of his clanging foot,
Nor the watch-dog baying near
Only the sound of a low toned lute
Stole to her dreaming ear.
The moon rode up as the night wore on,
Looking down with a blinding glare
Into that chamber still and lone,
Touching the rough-hewn cross of stone,
And the prayer-beads glittering there-
The loosened waves of the sleeper's hair,
And the curve of her shoulder, white and bare!
She dreamed! she dreamed! that dreary keep
Melted away in the calm moonbeams;
The deep bell's call and the wave's hoarse sweep
Changed for the lull of a forest deep,
And the pleasant voice of streams.
She seemed to sit by a mossy stone,
To watch the blood-red sun go down,
And hang on the verge of the horizon
Like a ruby set in a golden ring;
To hear the wild birds sing
Up in the larch-boughs, loud and sweet,
Over a surf where the soft waves beat
With a sound like the naiad's dancing feet.
For here and there on its winding way
Down by dingle and shady nook,
Under the white thorn's drooping spray
Glittered the thread of a slender brook;
And scarce a roebuck's leap beyond,
Close at the brink of its grassy bound,
She heard her lover's chiding hound,
His bugle's merry play.
Oh! it was sweet again to be
Under the free blue skies!
She turned on her pillow restlessly,
And the tears to her sleeping eyes Came welling up as the full drops start With Spring's first smile from a fountain's heart.
Up rose the maid in her dreamy rest,
And flung a robe o'er her shoulders bare,
And gathered the threads of her floating hair,
Ere with a foot on the turret stair
She paused, then onward pressed,
As the tones of a soft lute broke again
Through the deeper chords of the voiceful main.
Steep and rude was the perilous way;
Through loopholes square and small
The night looked into the turret gray,
And over the massive wall.
In blocks of light the moonbeams lay;
But the changeful ghosts of the showering spray,
And the mirrored play of the waters dim
Rippled and glanced on the ceiling grim.
The moon looked into her sleeping eyes,
The night wind stirred her hair,
And wandering blindly, Juliette,
Close on the verge of the parapet,
Stood without in the open air.
Under the blue arch of the skies,
Save for the pacing sentinel,
Save for the ocean's constant swell,
There seemed astir no earthly thing.
Below, the great waves rose and fell,
Scaling ever their craggy bound,
But scarce a zephyr's dipping wing
Broke the silver crust of the sea beyond:
And in her lifelike dream
The maiden now had wandered on
To the brink of the slender stream; Then pausing, stayed her eager foot, For with the brook's sweet monotone And, where the levelled moonbeams played Over the lap of a turfy glade,
A hound lay sleeping in the shade.
Rocked by the light waves to and fro,
Scarcely an arrow's flight from shore,
Her lover in his bark below
Paused, resting on the oar,
Watching the foam-wreaths bead and fall
Like shattered stars from the castle wall.
And higher yet he raised his eyes-
Jesu! he started with affright!
For painted on the dusky skies
Seemed hovering in the tremulous light
A figure small and angel white!
Against the last lay far and dim,
Touched by the moon's uncertain ray,
The airy form of the turret grim.
Doubtful he gazed a moment's space,
Then rowed toward the castle's base,
But checked his oar midway,
And gazing up at the parapet,
Shouted the one word, "Juliette!"
Lute, baying hound, and restless deep,
Each gave the clue bewildered Thought
Had followed through the maze of sleep,
And by her lulled ear faintly caught
Her lover's voice its echo wrought.
She heard him call, she saw him stand,
With smiling lip and beckoning hand;
And closer pressed, and dreaming yet,
From the green border of the stream-
From the o'erhanging parapet
Sprang forward with a scream!
Then once again the deep bell tolled
Up in the turret gray and old,
And, mingled with its lingering knell,
The echoed cry, half won, half lost,
Startled the weary sentinel,
Now slumbering at his post :
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