Who loves to make her captive feel
The fetters wisdom would conceal?-
I wot not well, but know there hung
All woman's witchery on her tongue
As laughing she address'd the youth,
"Now by thy knighthood and thy truth,
If thou wouldst offer bride-gift fair,
Twine yon blue floweret in my
'Twas a wild wish, but ne'ertheless
In his sight had a sacredness,
And he his life had peril'd oft
For slight boon craved in accent soft.
Behold him gracefully and brave
Plunge fearless in the fulgent wave;
The while, upon that faëry strand,
With mute lip but beseeching hand,
Young Isabel repentant stood
And gazed on the encircling flood:
A monarch's ransom she had paid
How gladly then, unthinking maid!
That she had ne'er in light caprice
So peril'd life, and love, and peace.
Not yet hath sunk the lingering sun-
The isle is gained-the flower is won,
And gallantly now wends he back
Upon his still resplendent track.
He comes-he nears the brink-Oh God!
Why flings he thus upon the sød,
Ere yet his triumph be complete,
The love-gift at his lady's feet?
The deep cold waters, or the blow
Of some dark treacherous rock below,
Or the stern secret hand of death
Sudden has stopp'd the swimmer's breath.
A gasp, a sob, a struggling cry-
And-what a look of agony!
He on his own betrothed cast,
Too sure that it would be his last;
And pointing to the fatal spot
Where lay the flower, "Forget me not-
Forget me not, sweet Isabel"-
He to the shrieking maiden said,
Forget me not-Farewell-Farewell!"
Then closed the waters o'er his head;
And ere the last flush left the waves
He slept within their hidden caves.
SOLCATA ho fronte; occhi incavati intenti; Crin fulvo, emunte guance, ardito aspetto Labbri tumidi, arguti, al riso lenti;
Capo chino, bel collo, irsuto petto: Membra esatte; vestir semplice, eletto; Ratti i passi, i pensier, gli atti, gli accenti : Sobrio, ostinato, umano, ispido, schietto; Avverso al mondo, avversi a me gli eventi. Mesto i più giorni, e solo; ognor pensoso: Alle speranze incredulo e al timore;
Il pudor me fa vile, e prode l'ira. Parlami astuta la ragion; ma il core Ricco di viri e di virtù, deliraFors'io da morte avrò fama e riposo.
A FURROW'D brow, intent and deep sunk eyes,
Fair hair, lean cheeks, are mine, and aspect bold;
The proud quick lip, where seldom smiles arise,
Bent head and fine form'd neck, breast rough and
Limbs well composed; simple in dress, yet choice:
Swift or to move, act, think, or thoughts unfold.
Temperate, firm, kind, unused to flattering lies,
Adverse to th' world, adverse to me of old.
Oft times alone and mournful. Evermore
Most pensive-all unmoved by hope or fear :
By shame made timid, and by anger brave.-
My subtle reason speaks: but, ah! I rave,
'Twixt vice and virtue, hardly know to steer:
Death may for me have FAME and rest in store.
M. S.
"TWAS night, and o'er the stilly deep
No ripple broke the seaboy's sleep,
The winds had ceased to sigh;
The moon in silver pride rode through
Her cloudless course of spangled blue
In silent majesty!
Within a wild and stranger bay,
From Albion's white cliff far away,
Fast moor'd an English galley lay
Upon the heaving tide;
While from the deck, in pensive mood,
Young Oswald lean'd him o'er the flood,
And gazed upon the headland near :
But though his step was bounded here,
His thoughts were far and wide. He mused upon his lady-love;
And oft, for very pride, he strove
The rising tear to quell :
But 'twould not be. In vain he sought To wrestle with the hearted thought
Of one he loved so well.
He cursed a haughty father's pride,
Who scorn'd his love, her prayers denied ;
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