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“ Behold we know not anything;

I can but trust that good shall fall

At last-far off--at last to all,
And every winter change to spring."

In Memoriam.

I lay by fairy Venice' sun-lit shore,
And heard the whispers of the wave which falls
In ripples round her labyrinth of walls :
Spell-bound I heard until I heard no more,
But passed from that which is to that which seems,
From this fair world into the land of dreams.


Methought I saw an island far away,
Far, far away beyond the wond'rous west,
Set like a diamond on fair Ocean's breast;
The silver gossamers of soft sea-spray
Wreathed it around: the billow rose and fell
In softest cadence, like a silver bell.


The sun was sinking to his Ocean-bed,
Lighting the feathery cloudlets with his smile,
That fading purpled all that golden isle,
And o'er the scene a mystic twilight shed.
Nature had lavish'd all her charms to bless
This fairy Eden of deliciousness.

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