What tho' that light, thro' storm and night What could there be more purely bright THE LAKE.-TO IN spring of youth it was my lot Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the mystic wind went by Then-ah, then I would awake A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define, Nor Love-although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his lone imagining,— Whose solitary soul could make An Eden of that dim lake. SONG. I SAW thee on the bridal day, When a burning blush came o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee: And in thine eye a kindling light (Whatever it might be) Was all on Earth my aching sight Of Loveliness could see. That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame,— Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame Who saw thee on that bridal day, When that deep blush would come o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee. TO HELEN. HELEN, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, On desperate seas long wont to roam, Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche ALONE. FROM childhood's hour I have not been |