Through the clouds, ere they divide And this atmosphere divinest Fair are others; none beholds thee (But thy voice sounds low and tender, Like the fairest), for it folds thee From the sight that liquid splen- And all feel, yet see thee never, Lamp of Earth! where'er thou movest, Its dim shapes are clad with brightness, And the souls of whom thou lovest Walk upon the winds with lightness, Till they fail, as I am failing, HYMN OF PAN. FROM the forests and highlands We come, we come; Where loud waves are dumb The bees on the bells of thyme, The cicale above in the lime, And the lizards below in the grass, Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was, Listening to my sweet pipings. Liquid Peneus was flowing, And all dark Tempe lay And the Nymphs of the woods To the edge of the moist riverlawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, [FELICIA DOROTHEA BROWNE was born in Liverpool, Sept. 25, 1793, and published her first poems in 1803. She married Captain Hemans, 1812, and died in Dublin, May 16, 1835. Her principal works are: Tales and Historic Scenes, 1816; The Forest Sanctuary, 1826; Lays of Many Lands, 1826; Records of Woman, 1828; Songs of the Affections, 1830; Scenes and Hymns of Life, 1834. She also published various dramas and translations.] |