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SUMMER LOVE.

THERE was a youth who lived beneath the sun
That streams upon the balmy Indian shore,
Among all fairest youths the fairest one

That roamed its hill-sides and savannahs o'er.
In a few summer months his course was run,
And ne'er returned that graceful footstep more;
Over that silent life my thought has bent,
And builded to its fame an unknown monument.

If what thereon is carved may pleasure thee,
A deeper beauty must it ever wear;

Within me it is reared so curiously

Half crowned with memory and wreathed with care. Not of mine own, but spirits tenderly

Preserve a feeble form when Love is there; He was my friend, though we each other knew Without familiar intercourse, as spirits do.

His face was very fair; his large calm eyes,
Not all unlighted with a silent fire,
Lay as in some sweet bower of surprise,

With a full sense of beauty growing nigher,
As who entranced should see the morning rise,
And the cool stars in deeper light expire;
His words were few-then first it seemed to me
Why o'er the watery deep, God brooded silently.

His wondrous beauty among other men

Won for his brow the golden crown of praise,
For when one looked at him, he looked again,
Noting his graceful carriage and his ways;
Not always some without a sense of pain,

For beauty waked a host of buried days,
Within whose calm embrace enshrouded lie
Youth's glorious hopes whose spirit could not die.

And women looked at him with peaceful heart,
As on a summer landscape, not to be

With cruel selfishness withheld apart,
To some dim home a household melody;

For his full life, unmoulded by low art,

Flowed largely out like the unmeasured sea,
And a deep health to them his presence bore,
As when they saw the ocean rolling to the shore.

We met as strangers meet; scarcely a word
Was spoken by us, but our glances fell
Upon each other, and our hearts were stirred,
Though of that motion he did never tell,
Yet the cool silence from his features heard

What words had never spoken half so well.
The air was warmed by those heart-gushing beams,
And flowed with freer tide life's hidden streams.

Yet sometimes I would fain have told to him,
What pleasant pain he woke within my breast;
I gazed upon him till my eyes were dim,

Then his remembrance was the charm of rest;
He was as one who singeth a far hymn,
Eluding ever, yet enticing, quest.

I waited eagerly, but could not gaze,
With burning earnestness upon that placid face.

He left his home while yet his years were few,
And earnest hopes were wove like silken sails,
The soundless ocean-paths to waft him through,
Filléd quite out, for prayers are fav'ring gales.
He sought the north while summer yet was near,
And later spring-time told its sunny tales,
"Twas then I saw him first, and only then;
Silent we parted there and met no more again.

In the still fragrance of the summer hours,

I sat alone and dreamed what we might be,
Fair dreams that wreathed my beating brow with flowers,
Culled from the garden of dim fantasy.

I lived the future in those golden bowers,
Gazing entranced upon a flowing sea,
Almost I feared to know him, for it seemed

That he could not be fair, as him of whom I dreamed.

I said we parted and my eyes no more

Revelled amid such beauty's fairy prime;

With willing gaze he saw his native shore,

Heard with deep joy the old accustomed chime,
That knelléd soon his pale, cold body o'er,

In the wan dying of the summer time.

My heart was very calm, when it was said

That the young stranger in his island home was dead.

My heart was calm, but evermore a fair

And shadowy presence streamed my life around,
Like the faint perfume of the morning air,

Sweetened by early flowers or spring birds' sound,

But never early flowers or spring bird there

Amid the dewy freshness can be found.

Ah! might I speak the thought that I would say!
When the deep founts are full, the waters ebb away.

'Tis pictured here, that calm majestic face,
Informed with beauty which the soul confers,

His motions liquid with a flowing grace,

As when the wooing wind the tall tree stirs,
The heart outlooking with a regal gaze,
Like a true king upon his worshippers.

The Indian boy sleeps silent o'er the sea,
But evermore a gentle spirit glides with me.
Concord, Mass.

C.

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PERSICO'S COLUMBUS.

Our last Number contained a paper from a valued contributor, Mr. Alexander H. Everett, devoted to one noble production of the chisel, with which the federal Capitol has been recently adorned, Greenough's colossal statue of Washington. At the period at which the accomplished writer was at Washington, gazing upon the work to which it was a grateful task to render its just meed of praise, another glorious performance in the same glorious art had not yet been erected to its place, and exhibited to the public eye. We refer to Persico's group of Columbus and a female Indian, with which the east part of the Capitol is now adorned. Had it then been visible, it would not have failed to receive from the same elegant and graceful pen a notice better worthy of its merits, than that which we now hasten with pleasure to supply.

An intelligent correspondent in the "New World" thus discourses of it. Coinciding as his views do for the most part with our own, we cheerfully adopt in quoting them :

"By far, the greatest object of attraction and admiration at Washington is Persico's last and best work, the Discoverer and Discovered of America, which now occupies its permanent resting-place, in front of the eastern portico of the Capitol building. As a work of art, of prolific genius, of intellectual conception, of precise and admirable execution, this group, consisting of Columbus, at the moment he realizes his theory of the rotundity of the earth, which is simply yet beautifully illustrated by the globe held forth triumphantly in the right hand, and the figure of an Indian female, startled at the approach of the bold adventurer, presents an entire picture, unequalled in grace, and unapproached in majesty, by anything which native or foreign talent affords in the public or private collections of the country. The artist has grasped the history of the man, his undismayed courage amidst all vicissitudes, the providential guidance which overruled his destiny, the great aim and the beginning of an enterprise,

whose results have changed the character and condition of the world. The wondering beholder is irresistibly impressed with all the higher faculties of patient endurance, elevated purpose, discriminating judgment, and the well balanced spirit of resolution and of consummation which are developed and harmonized in the head of Colum bus. Mind, majesty and grandeur pervade, and thought seems to utter the poetical realisation of all the principles at which an ignorant world had scoffed. One is not approached as with statuary generally, and other works of the same sculptor which stand near by (the statues of Peace and War, eminently distinguished for ability), fail in the effect of this composition.

"In Columbus, there is an eloquent and touching appeal to the feelings, an energy of character, and an emotion which excites and moves, which persuades to esteem, and carries recollection along through the dark chambers of five centuries, placing us, as it were, face to face, with a common ancestor, distinguished beyond the men of his time, and foremost in the march of civilisation and Christianity. Even this generation, in the mind's eye, has formed a fellowship with the man and his age; and the promptings, both of affection and reverence, urge the American heart, as it expands in glowing homage to the discoverer of a Continent, designed as the experiment and perpetuation of free institutions.

"The Indian figure is of extraordinary ease and most pleasing attitude. She is unnoticed by Columbus, but is herself alarmed at the advent of the mailed discoverer. Every characteristic feature of that peculiar race is most appropriately blended and developed in the lineaments and symmetry of this animated marble; and the combination is so perfect, and the scene so real to the active mind, that it wants but a Prometheus to set the machine of life in motion. Ignorance, as usual, has become quite offended at the indelicacy of this figure, because the drapery has fallen naturally and gracefully at the instant of her surprise, which discovers

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