With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee,
I cannot write-I cannot speak or think-
Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling.
This standing motionless upon the golden
Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams,
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,
And thrilling as I see, upon the right,
Upon the left, and all the way along,
Amid empurpled vapors, far away

To where the prospect terminates-thee only.

TO MY MOTHER.

BECAUSE I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,

Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"

Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,

And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you,
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.

My mother-my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you

Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,

And thus are dearer than the mother I knew

By that infinity with which my wife

Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

ELDORADO.

GAILY bedight,

A gallant knight,

In sunshine and in shadow,

Had journeyed long,

Singing a song,

In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old

This knight so bold

And o'er his heart a shadow

Fell as he found

No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado.

And as his strength

Failed him at length,

He met a pilgrim shadow

"Shadow," said he,

"Where can it be

This land of Eldorado ?"

"Over the Mountains

Of the Moon,

Down the Valley of the Shadow,

Ride, boldly ride,"

The shade replied,—

"If you seek for Eldorado!"

ΤΟ

I HEED not that my earthly lot

Hath-little of Earth in it

That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute:

I mourn not that the desolate