"She fell as falls the rose in spring, The fairest are ever most perishing, Yet lingers that tale of sorrow and love, Of the Christian maid and her Moslem love ; A tale to be told in the twilight hour, For the beauty's tears in her lonely bower."

"When will my soul forget the look With which one single stem she took From out the wreath ?—a tulip flower; But, touch'd as by some withering power, The painted leaves were drooping round The rich but burning heart they bound."

"One moment he is at her knee, “So, Leila, wouldst thou weep for me ?” Started she, as at lightning gleam,— “O, Mirza, this I did not dream! Moslem and Moor, may Spanish maid Hearken such words as thou hast said?”"

"Maiden, fling from thy braided hair The red rosebud that is wreathed there ; For he who planted the parent tree Is now what soon that blossom will be."

"There grew her father's cypress tree, No other monument had he. He bade that never funeral stone Should tell of glory overthrown,— What could it say, but foreign sky Had seen the exile pine and die?"

"They see the mortal maiden ride In honour by the chieftan's side, So beautiful, so free from sin, Worthy was she such boon to win : The spirit race that floated round Were not more pure, more stainless found"

"Blush'd the first blush of coming day, Faded the fairy band away. They pass'd and only left behind A lingering fragrance on the wind, And on the lake, their haunted home, One long white wreath of silver foam."

"A louder sweep the music gave : The chieftain of the charmed wave, Graceful upon his steed of snow, Rises from his blue halls below ; And rode he like a victor-knight Thrice glorious in his arms of light."

"Such as the lute, touch'd by no hand Save by an angel's, wakes and weeps, Such is the sound that now to land From the charmed water sweeps."

"For misery, like a masquer, mocks at all In which it has no part, or one of gall,"

"We do too little feel each others' pain; We do relax too much the social chain That binds us to each other; slight the care There is for grief in which we have no share."

"I cannot choose but marvel at the way In which our lives pass on, from day to day Learning strange lessons in the human heart, And yet like shadows letting them depart."

"For my spirit hath left her earthly home And found a nobler dwelling, Where the music of light is that of life, And the starry harps are swelling."

"Where do purple bubbles swim, But upon the goblet's brim ? Drink not deep, howe'er it glow Sparkles never lie below."

"My heart is like the failing hearth Now by my side, One by one its bursts of flame Have burnt and died."

"I numbered years of pain and distress, And but fourteen days of happiness. Mortal, nor pleasure, nor wealth, nor power, Are more than the toys of a passing hour;"

"Ahmed comes back a conqueror, but what hath he found? The cry of the orphan is loud on his ear, And his eye hath beheld the young bride's bitter tear, And the friend of his youth is left dead on the plain, And the flower of his nobles return not again. There are crowds that are filling the air with his name; Do ye marvel the monarch is loathing his fame?"

"I'm weary, I'm weary. Oh! pleasure is pain When its spell has been broken again and again. I am weary of smiles that are bought and are sold, I am weary of beauty whose fetters are gold, I am weary of wealth—what makes it of me But that which the basest and lowest might be?"

"Beautiful weakness! oh, if weak, That woman's heart should tinge her cheek! 'Tis sad to change it for the strength That heart and cheek must know at length."

"What need hath she Of shrine to her divinity? Each fair face is her visible shrine; She hath been, she will be divine."

"Dreary it is the path to trace, Step by step of sin's wild race."

"The earth was parched, the trees were sear'd, And blasted every branch appear'd; At one end yawned a gloomy cave, Black, as its mouth were that of the grave; And dark, as if the waters of death Were in its depths, rose a well beneath."

"Alas! when angry words begin Their entrance on the lip to win; When sullen eye and flushing cheek Say more than bitterest tone could speak; And look and word, than fire or steel, Give wounds more deep,—time cannot heal; And anger digs, with tauntings vain, A gulf it may not pass again."

"Oh! frail are the many links that are In the chain of affection's tender care,"

"Despair weeps not. Her lip moved as in prayer Unconsciously ; as if prayers had been there, And they moved now from custom."

"There stood she, even as a statue stands, With head droop'd downward, and with clasped hands; Such small white hands that match'd her ivory feet, How may they bear that scorching fire to meet?"

"True love is timid, as it knew its worth, And that such happiness is scarce for earth."

"Out on the heartless creed which nulls the claim Upon the heart of kindred, birth, and name."

"'T was night, but night which the imperial moon, Regal in her full beauty, turn'd to noon, But still the noon of midnight; though the ray Was clear and bright, it was not that of day;"

"And Love is like the lightning in its might, Winging where least bethought its fiery flight, Melting the blade, despite the scabbard's guard."

"For he had curious colours, that could give The human face so like, it seem'd to live."

"It is a charmed ring—this emerald stone Will be a sign, when thou art from me gone. Mark if it changes; if a spot be seen On the now spotless ground of lighted green, Danger is round me; haste thou then to me, Thou know'st how fearless is my trust in thee."

"For love is like the breathing wind, That everywhere may entrance find."

"It was a summer evening; and the sea Seem'd to rejoice in its tranquillity ; Rolling its gentle waters to the west, Till the rich crimson blush'd upon their breast, Uniting lovingly the wave and sky, Like Hope content in its delight to die."

"Then rose those deadlier sounds that tell When foes meet hand to hand,— The shout, the yell, the iron clang Of meeting spear and brand."

"Light like the wan blue flames that wave Their death-torch o'er the murderer's grave ; And flickering shapes beset the way, Watching in gloom to seize their prey, Most terrible, for that the eye Wander'd in dim uncertainty ;"

"The bright cloud shone on the river's face, But the death-black waters had not a trace Of the crimson blaze that over them play'd : It seem'd as if a curse were laid On the grass, on the river, the tree, and the flower, And shut them out from the sunbeam's power ;"

"On the horizon is a star, Its earliest, loveliest one by far ; A blush is yet upon the sky, As if too beautiful to die,— A last gleam of the setting sun, Like hope when love has just begun ;"

"Where on earth is the truth that may vie With woman's lone and long constancy?"

"Let worldly coldness and care depart, And yield to the spell of the minstrel's art."

"'Tis May again, another May, Looking as if it meant to stay ; So many are its thousand flowers, So glorious are its sunny hours, So green its earth, so blue its sky, As made for Hope's eternity."

"But not like this is Nature's face, Though even she must bear the trace Of the great curse that clings to all ; Her leaves, her flowers, must spring to fall :"

"Oh, what am I, and what are they ? Masquers but striving to deceive Themselves and others ; and believe It is enough, if none shall know The covered mass of care below."

"TO-MORROW, to-morrow, thou loveliest May, To-morrow will rise up thy first-born day; Bride of the summer, child of the spring, To-morrow the year will its favourite bring:"

"He fell as other thousands do, Trampled down where they fall, While on a single name is heap'd The glory gain'd by all. Yet even he whose common grave Lies in the open fields, Died not without a thought of all The joy that glory yields."

"It matters not its history; love has wings Like lightning , swift and fatal, and it springs Like a wild flower where it is least expected, Existing whether cherish'd or rejected;"

"AY, screen thy favourite dove, fair child, Ay, screen it if you may,— Yet I misdoubt thy trembling hand Will scare the hawk away."

"Beautiful language! Love's peculiar, own, But only to the spring and summer known."