I've said "nay, look not there, my love, Alas, I cannot give it thee !"

But not alone the wonders found
Through Nature's realm-the' unveil'd,
material,

Visible glories, that hang round,
Like lights, thro' her enchanted ground-
But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal,
Dwells far away. from human sense,
Wrapp'd in its own intelligence-
The mystery of that Fountain head,
From which all vital spirit runs,
All breath of Life, where'er 'tis shed,
Thro' men or angels, flowers or suns-
The workings of the' Almighty Mind,
When first o'er Chaos he design'd
The outlines of this world; and through
That spread of darkness-like the bow,
Call'd out of rain-clouds, hue by hue-
Saw the grand, gradual picture grow!-
The covenant with human kind

Which God hath made-the chains of
Fate

He round himself and them hath twin'd,
Till his high task he consummate-
Till good from evil, love from hate,

Shall be work'd out through sin and pain,
And Fate shall loose her iron chain,
And all be free, be bright again!

Such were the deep-drawn mysteries,
And some, perhaps, ev'n more profound,
More wildering to the mind than these,
Which far as woman's thought could
sound,

Or a fall'n, outlaw'd spirit reach-
She dar'd to learn, and I to teach.
Till-fill'd with such unearthly lore,

And mingling the pure light it brings
With much that fancy had, before,
Shed in false, tinted glimmerings-
The' enthusiast girl spoke out, as one
Inspir'd, among her own dark race,
Who from their altars, in the sun
Left standing half adorn'd, would run
To gaze upon her holier face.

And, though but wild the things she spoke,
Yet mid that play of error's smoke

Into fair shapes by fancy curl'd, Some gleams of pure religion brokeGlimpses, that have not yet awoke,

But startled the still dreaming world!

1

Oh, many a truth, remote, sublime,
Which God would from the minds of

men

Have kept conceal'd, till his own time,
Stole out in these revealments then-
Revealments dim, that have fore-run,
By ages, the bright, Saving One!
Like that imperfect dawn, or light
Escaping from the Zodiac's signs,
Which makes the doubtful east half bright
Before the real morning shines!

Thus did some moons of bliss go

by

Of bliss to her, who saw but love And knowledge throughout earth and sky; To whose enamour'd soul and eye, I seem'd, as is the sun on high,

The light of all below, above, The spirit of sea, land, and air, Whose influence, felt every where, Spread from its centre, her own heart, Ev'n to the world's extremest partWhile through that world her reinless mind Had now career'd so fast and far, That earth itself seem'd left behind, And her proud fancy, unconfin'd,

Already saw heaven's gates a-jar!

Happy enthusiast! still, oh, still
Spite of my own heart's mortal chill,
Spite of that double-fronted sorrow,
Which looks at once before and back,
Beholds the yesterday, the morrow,

And sees both comfortless, both black;
Spite of all this, I could have still
In her delight forgot all ill;

Or, if pain would not be forgot,

At least have borne and murmur'd not.
When thoughts of an offended heaven,
Of sinfulness, which I-ev'n I,

While down its steep most headlong driv'n
Well knew could never be forgiven,
Came o'er me with an agony
Beyond all reach of mortal woe,—
A torture kept for those who know,
Know every thing, and, worst of all,
Know and love virtue while they fall!
Ev'n then, her presence had the power
To soothe, to warm,--nay, ev'n to bless;
If ever bliss could graft its flower

On stem so full of bitterness;
Ev'n then her glorious smile to me
Brought warmth and radiance if not balm
Like moonlight on a troubled sea,
Brightening the storm it cannot calm.

Oft, too, when that disheartening fe ar,.
Which all who love, beneath the sky,
Feel, when they gaze on what is dear:

The dreadful thought that it must die; That desolating thought, which comes Into men's happiest hours and homes; Whose melancholy boding flings Death's shadow o'er the brightest things, Sicklies the infant's bloom, and spreads The grave beneath young lovers heads! This fear, so sad to all-to me

Most full of sadness, from the thought That I must still live on, when she Would, like the snow that on the sea Fell yesterday, in vain be soughtThat heaven to me the final seal

Of all earth's sorrow would deny, And I eternally must feel

The death-pang, without power to die!
Ev'n this, her fond endearments—fond
As ever twisted the sweet bond

"Twixt heart and heart-could charm away;
Before her look no clouds would stay,
Or, if they did, their gloom was gone,
Their darkness put a glory on!
There seem'd a freshness in her breath,

Beyond the reach, the power of death;