Thought 'twas their herald's wing re

turning;

Oft did the potent spell-word, given
To Envoys hither from the skies,
To be pronounc'd, when back to heaven
It is their hour or wish to rise,
Come to my lips that fatal day;

And once, too, was so nearly spoken,
That my spread plumage in the ray
And breeze of heaven began to play-
When my heart fail'd-the spell was

broken

The word unfinish'd died

away,

And my check'd plumes, ready to soar,
Fell slack and lifeless as before.

How could I leave a world,--which she,
Or lost or won, made all to me,
Beyond home-glory-every thing?
How fly, while yet there was a chance,
A hope-aye, even of perishing
Utterly by that fatal glance!

No matter where my wanderings were,
So there she look'd, mov'd, breath'd
about-

Woe, ruin, death, more sweet with her,

Than all heaven's proudest joys without!

But, to return-that very day

A feast was held, where, full of mirth, Came, crowding thick as flowers that play In summer winds, the young and gay And beautiful of this bright earth. And she was there, and 'mid the young And beautiful stood first, alone; Though on her gentle brow still hung The shadow I that morn had thrownThe first, that ever shame or woe Had cast upon its vernal snow. My heart was madden'd-in the flush Of the wild revel I gave way To all that frantic mirth-that rush Of desperate gaiety, which they, Who never felt how pain's excess Can break out thus, think happinessSad mimicry of mirth and life, Whose flashes come but from the strife Of inward passions- like the light Struck out by clashing swords in fight.

Then, too, that juice of earth, the bane And blessing of man's heart and brain— That draught of sorcery, which brings Phantoms of fair, forbidden thingsWhose drops, like those of rainbows, smile Upon the mists that circle man,

Bright'ning not only Earth, the while,
But grasping Heaven, too, in their span!
Then first the fatal wine-cup rain'd
Its dews of darkness through my lips,
Casting whate'er of light remain'd
To my lost soul into eclipse,
And filling it with such wild dreams,
Such fantasies and wrong desires,
As, in the absence of heaven's beams,
Haunt us for ever-like wild-fires
That walk this earth, when day retires.

Now hear the rest-our banquet done,

I sought her in the' accustom'd bower, Where late we oft, when day was gone, And the world hush'd, had met alone,

At the same silent, moonlight hour. I found her-oh, so beautiful!

Why, why have hapless Angels eyes? Or why are there not flowers to cull,

As fair as Woman, in yon skies?

Still did her brow, as usual, turn
To her lov'd star, which seem'd to burn
Purer than ever on that night;

While she in looking, grew more bright,
As though that planet were an urn
From which her eyes drank liquid light.

There was a virtue in that scene
A spell of holiness around,.........

Which would have-had my brain not been Thus poison'd, madden'd held me bound,

As though I stood on God's own ground. Ev'n as it was, with soul all flame,

And lips that burn'd in their own sighs,
I stood to gaze, with awe and shame
The memory of Eden came

Full o'er me when I saw those eyes;
And tho' too well each glance of mine
To the pale, shrinking maiden prov'd
How far, alas, from aught divine,
Aught worthy of so pure a shrine,

Was the wild love with which I lov'd,
Yet must she, too, have seen-oh yes
"Tis soothing but to think she saw-
The deep, true, soul-felt tenderness,
The homage of an Angel's awe
To her a mortal, whom pure love
Then plac'd above him-far above-
And all that struggle to repress
A sinful spirit's mad excess,

Which work'd within me at that hour,

When with a voice, where Passion shed

All the deep sadness of her power,
Her melancholy power-I said,
"Then be it so—if back to heaven
"I must unlov'd, unpitied fly,
"Without one blest memorial given

'

To sooth me in that lonely sky

"One look, like those the young and fond "Give when they're parting--which would be

"Ev'n in remembrance, far beyond

"All heaven hath left of bliss to me! "Oh, but to see that head recline "A minute on this trembling arm, "And those mild eyes look up to mine "Without a dread, a thought of harm? To meet but once the thrilling touch

Gflips that are too fond to fear me ; "Or, if that boon be all too much

"Ev'n thus to bring their fragrance near me?

Nay, shrink not so—a look -a word "Give them but kindly and I fly: "Already, see, my plumes have stirr'd, "And tremble for their home on high. "Thus be our parting-cheek to cheek, "One minute's lapse will be forgiven,