For slavish men, who bend beneath
A despot yoke, yet dare not

Pronounce the will, whose very breath
Would rend its links-WE care not.

For priestly men, who covet sway

And wealth, though they declare not; Who point, like finger-posts, the way They never go—WE CARE NOT.

For martial men, who on their sword,
Howe'er it conquers, wear not
The pledges of a soldier's word,
Redeem'd and pure-WE CARE NOT.

For legal men, who plead for wrong,
And, though to lies they swear not,
Are hardly better than the throng
Of those who do -WE CARE NOT.

For courtly men, who feed upon

The land, like grubs, and spare not The smallest leaf, where they can sun Their crawling limbs-WE CARE NOT.

For wealthy men, who keep their mines
In darkness hid, and share not
The paltry ore with him who pines
In honest want- WE CARE NOT.

For prudent men, who hold the power
Of Love aloof, and bare not

Their hearts in any guardless hour
To Beauty's shaft — WE CARE not.

For all, in short, on land or sea,

In camp or court, who are not,

Who never were, or e'er will be

Good men and true-WE CARE NOT.

THE DREAM OF THE TWO SISTERS.

FROM DANTE.

Nell ora, credo, che dell' oriente

Prima raggiò nel monte Citerea,

Che di fuoco d' amor par sempre ardente,
Giovane e bella in sogno mi parea
Donna vedere andar per una landa
Cogliendo fiori; e cantando dicea:

Sappia qualunque 'l mio nome dimanda,
Ch' io mi son Lia, e vo movendo 'ntorno
Le belle mani a farmi una ghirlanda -
Per piacermi allo specchio qui m' adorno;
Ma mia suora Rachel mai non si smaga
Dal suo ammiraglio, e siede tutto il giorno.

Ell' è de' suoi begli occhi veder vaga,
Com' io dell' adornarmi con le mani;
Lei lo vedere e me l'ovrare appaga.

DANTE, Purg. canto xxvii.

'Twas eve's soft hour, and bright, above, The star of Beauty beam'd,

While lull'd by light so full of love,

In slumber thus I dream'd

Methought, at that sweet hour,
A nymph came o'er the lea,
Who, gath'ring many a flow'r,

Thus said and sung to me:-
"Should any ask what Leila loves,

66

Say thou, To wreathe her hair

"With flow'rets cull'd from glens and groves,

"Is Leila's only care.

"While thus in quest of flow'rets rare,

66

"O'er hill and dale I roam,

'My sister, Rachel, far more fair,

"Sits lone and mute at home.

"Before her glass untiring,

"With thoughts that never stray, "Her own bright eyes admiring, "She sits the live-long day; "While I oh, seldom even a look "Of self salutes my eye;"My only glass, the limpid brook, "That shines and passes by."

SOVEREIGN WOMAN.

A BALLAD.

THE dance was o'er, yet still in dreams

That fairy scene went on;

Like clouds still flush'd with daylight gleams, Though day itself is gone.

And gracefully, to music's sound,

The same bright nymphs went gliding round; While thou, the Queen of all, wert there— The Fairest still, where all were fair.

The dream then chang'd-in halls of state,
I saw thee high enthron'd;

While, rang'd around, the wise, the great
In thee their mistress own'd:
And still the same, thy gentle sway
O'er willing subjects won its way —

'Till all confess'd the Right Divine
To rule o'er man was only thine!

But, lo, the scene now chang'd again—
And borne on plumed steed,

I saw thee o'er the battle-plain

Our land's defenders lead;

And stronger in thy beauty's charms,
Than man, with countless hosts in arms,

Thy voice, like music, cheer'd the Free;
Thy very smile was victory!

Nor reign such queens on thrones alone—
In cot and court the same,
Wherever woman's smile is known,

Victoria's still her name.

For though she almost blush to reign,

Though Love's own flow'rets wreath the chain,

Disguise our bondage as we will,

'Tis woman, woman, rules us still.

COME, PLAY ME THAT SIMPLE AIR AGAIN.

A BALLAD.

COME, play me that simple air again,

I us'd so to love, in life's young day,

And bring, if thou canst, the dreams that then Were waken'd by that sweet lay.

The tender gloom its strain

Shed o'er the heart and brow,
Grief's shadow, without its pain-
Say where, where is it now?

But play me the well-known air once more,
For thoughts of youth still haunt its strain,
Like dreams of some far, fairy shore

We never shall see again.

Sweet air, how every note brings back

Some sunny hope, some day-dream bright,

That, shining o'er life's early track,

Fill'd ev❜n its tears with light.

The new-found life that came

With Love's first echo'd vow;
The fear, the bliss, the shame —

Ah-where, where are they now?
But, still the same lov'd notes prolong,
For sweet 'twere thus, to that old lay,
In dreams of youth and love and song,
To breathe life's hour away.