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Gleaming within her heart, as clear. As pebbles within brooks appear; And there, among the countless things

That keep young hearts for ever glowing, Vague wishes, fond imaginings,

Love-dreams, as yet no object knowing; Light, winged hopes, that come when bid, And rainbow joys that end in weeping, And passions, among pure thoughts hid, Like serpents under flow'rets sleeping-'Mong all these feelings--felt where'er Young hearts are beating---I saw there Proud thoughts, aspirings high---beyond Whate'er yet dwelt in soul so fond--Glimpses of glory, far away

Into the bright, vague future given, And fancies, free and grand, whose play, Like that of eaglets, is near heaven! With this, too---what a soul and heart To fall beneath the tempter's art!--A zeal for knowledge, such as ne'er Enshrin'd itself in form so fair, Since that first, fatal hour, when Eve, With every fruit of Eden blest, Save only one, rather than leave

That one unknown, lost all the rest,.....!

It was in dreams that first I stole
With gentle mastery o'er her mind---
In that rich twilight of the soul,

When Reason's beam, half hid behind
The clouds of sense, obscurely gilds
Each shadowy shape that Fancy builds---
"Twas then, by that soft light, I brought
Vague, glimmering visions to her view---
Catches of radiance, lost when caught,
Bright labyrinths, that led to nought,

And vistas, with a void seen throughDwellings of bliss, that opening shone, Then clos'd, dissolv'd, and left no traceAll that, in short, could tempt Hope on,

But give her wing no resting place; Myself the while, with brow, as yet, Pure as the young moon's coronet, Through every dream still in her sight,

The' enchanter of each mocking scene, Who gave the hope, then brought the blight,

Who said 'Behold yon world of light,'
Then sudden dropt a veil between!

At length, when I perceiv'd each thought, Waking or sleeping, fix'd on nought

But these illusive scenes, and me,

The phantom, who thus came and went, In half revealments, only meant,

To madden curiosity

When by such various arts I found
Her fancy to its utmost wound,
One night-'twas in a holy spot,
Which she for pray'r had chos'n—a grot
Of purest marble, built below

Her garden beds, through which a glow From lamps invisible then stole,

Brightly pervading all the placeLike that mysterious light the soul,

Itself unseen, sheds through the faceThere, at her altar while she knelt, And all that woman ever felt,

When God and man both claim'd her

sighs

Every warm thought, that ever dwelt,
Like summer clouds, 'twixt earth and skies
Too pure to fall, too gross to rise,
Spoke in her gestures, tones and eyes;
Thus, by the tender light, which lay
Dissolving round, as if its ray

Was breath'd from her, I heard her say;

D

"Oh idol of my dreams! whate'er
"Thy nature be-human, divine,
"Or but half heavenly-still too fair,
"Too heavenly to be ever mine!

"Wonderful Spirit, who dost make
"Slumbers so lovely, that it seems
"No longer life to live awake,

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"Since heaven itself descends in dreams,

'Why do I ever lose thee? why

"When on thy realms and thee I gaze"Still drops that veil, which I could die, "Oh gladly, but one hour to raise ?

Long ere such miracles as thou

"And thine came o'er my thoughts, a thirst

"For light was in this soul, which now "Thy looks have into passion nurs'd.

"There's nothing bright above, below, "In sky-earth-ocean, that this breast "Doth not intensely burn to know,

"And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest!

"Then come, oh Spirit, from behind "The curtains of thy radiant home,

"Whether thou would'st as God be shrin'd, "Or lov'd and clasp'd as mortal, come!

Bring all thy dazzling wonders here, "That I may waking know and see— "Or waft me hence to thy own sphere, "Thy heaven or-aye, even that with thee!

"Demon or God, who hold'st the book "Of knowledge spread beneath thine eye, "Give me, with thee, but one bright look "Into its leaves, and let me die!

"By those ethereal wings, whose way "Lies through an element, so fraught "With floating Mind, that, as they play, "Their every movement is a thought!

"By that most precious hair, between "Whose golden clusters the sweet wind "Of Paradise so late hath been,

"And left its fragrant soul behind!

"By those impassion'd eyes, that melt "Their light into the inmost heart, “Like sunset in the waters, felt

"As molten fire through every part,—

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