Her famous looms. Then, bright with deity,

Toward far Olympus, Aphrodite went To ask of Zeus (who has his thunder-joys And his full knowledge of man's mingled fate)

How best to crown those other gifts with love

And worthy marriage: but, what time she went,

The ravishing Harpies snatched the maids away.

And gave them up, for all their loving eyes,

To serve the Furies who hate constantly.

ANOTHER VERSION.

So the storms bore the daughters of
Pandarus out into thrall-
The gods slew their parents; the or-
phans were left in the hall.

And there came, to feed their young
lives, Aphrodite divine,
With the incense, the sweet-tasting
honey, the sweet-smelling wine;
Here brought them her wit above wom-

an's, and beauty of face; And pure Artemis gave them her stat

ure, that form might have grace: And Athene instructed their hands in her works of renown;

Then, afar to Olympus, divine Aphrodite moved on:

To complete other gifts, by uniting each girl to a mate,

She sought Zeus, who has joy in the thunder and knowledge of fate, Whether mortals have good chance or ill! But the Harpies alate In the storm came, and swept off the maidens, and gave them to wait, With that love in their eyes, on the Furies who constantly hate.

PARAPHRASE ON ANACREON.

ODE TO THE SWALLOW.

THOU indeed, little Swallow,
A sweet yearly comer,
Art building a hollow

New nest every summer,

And straight dost depart
Where no gazing can follow,
Past Memphis, down Nile!
Ay! but love all the while
Builds his nest in my heart,
Through the cold winter-weeks:
And as one Love takes flight,
Comes another, O Swallow,
In an egg warm and white,
And another is callow.
And the large gaping beaks
Chirp all day and all night:
And the Loves who are older
Help the young and the poor Loves,
And the young Loves grown bolder
Increase by the score Loves-
Why, what can be done?

If a noise comes from one,

Can I bear all this rout of a hundred and more Loves?

THE FOURFOLD ASPECT.

When ye stood up in the house
With your little childish feet,
And in touching Life's first shows,
First the touch of Love did meet,-
Love and Nearness seeming one,

By the heart-light cast before,
And, of all Beloveds, none

Standing farther than the door-
Not a name being dear to thought,
With its owner beyond call,
Nor a face, unless it brought

Its own shadow to the wall,
When the worst recorded change
Was of apple dropt from bough,
When love's sorrow seemed more
strange

Than love's treason can seem now;
Then, the Loving took you up

Soft, upon their elder knees,Telling why the statues droop Underneath the churchyard trees, And how ye must lie beneath them Through the winters long and deep, Till the last trump overbreathe them, And ye smile out of your sleep. Oh ye lifted up your head, and it seemed as if they said

A tale of fairy ships

With a swan-wing for a sail !— Oh, ye kissed their loving lips

For the merry, merry tale!

So carelessly ye thought upon the Dead.

Soon ye read in solemn stories

Of the men of long ago-
Of the pale bewildering glories
Shining farther than we know.
Of the heroes with the laurel,

Of the poets with the bay,
Of the two worlds' earnest quarrel
For that beauteous Helena.
How Achilles at the portal

Of the tent, heard footsteps nigh
And his strong heart, half-immortal,
Met the keitai with a cry,-
How Ulysses left the sunlight
For the pale eidola race

Blank and passive through the dun light,

Staring blindly on his face:

heart, 'Sweet, it hurts not !'-how Admetus Saw his blessed one depart. How King Arthur proved his mission, And Sir Rowland wound his horn, And at Sangreal's moony vision

Swords did bristle round like corn. Oh! ye lifted up your head, and it seemed the while ye read,

That this death, then, must be found
A Valhalla for the crowned-
The heroic who prevail.
None, be sure can enter in
Far below a paladin

Of a noble, noble tale!

So awfully ye thought upon the Dead.

Ay! but soon ye woke up shrieking,— As a child that wakes at night From a dream of sisters speaking

In a garden's summer-light,That wakes, starting up and bounding, In a lonely, lonely bed, With a wall of darkness round him, Stifling black about his head!And the full sense of your mortal

Rushed upon you deep and loud, And ye heard the thunder hurtle

From the silence of the cloudFuneral-torches at your gateway Threw a dreadful light within; All things changed! you rose straightway

up

And saluted Death and Sin. Since, your outward man has rallied And your eye and voice grown bold

Yet the Sphinx of Life stands pallid, With her saddest secret told. Happy places have grown holy :

If ye went where once ye went, Only tears would fall down slowly, As at solemn sacrament: Merry books, once read for pastime, If ye dared to read again, Only memories of the last time Would swim darkly up the brain. Household names, which used to flutter

Through your laughter unawares,

God's Divinest ye could utter With less trembling in your prayers! Ye have dropt adown your head, and it seems as if ye tread

On your own hearts in the path Ye are called to in His wrath,'And your prayers go up in wail! -Dost Thou see, then, all our loss, O Thou agonized on cross? Art Thou reading all its tale? So, mournfully ye think upon the Dead

Pray, pray, thou who also weepest, And the drops will slacken so; Weep, weep:-and the watch thou keepest,

With a quicker count will go. Think :-the shadow on the dial For the nature most undone, Marks the passing of the trial, Proves the presence of the sun : Look, look up, in starry passion, To the throne above the spheres,

In embracing thy despair: Love the earthly love thou losest Shall return to thee more fair. Work make clear the forest-tangles Of the wildest stranger-land: Trust the blessed deathly angels Whisper, Sabbath hours at hand!' By the heart's wound when most gory By the longest agony,

Smile!-Behold, in sudden glory

The TRANSFIGURED smiles on thee!

And ye lifted up your head, and it seemed as if He said,

'My Beloved, is it so?

Have ye tasted of my wo?

Of my heaven ye shall not fail!'— He stands brightly where the shade is, With the keys of Death and Hades, And there ends the mournful tale :So hopefully ye think upon the Dead.

Is earth not new created but new cursed

This, Eden's gate not opened but built up With a final cloud of sunset. Do I dream?

Alas, not so! this is the Eden lost

By Lucifer the serpent! this the sword (This sword alive with justice and with fire!)

That smote upon the forehead, Lucifer The angel! Wherefore, angel, go.... depart

Enough is sinned and suffered.
Lucifer.
By no means.
Here's a brave earth to sin and suffer on!
It holds fast still-it cracks not under