POEMS.

CLARIBEL.

A MELODY.

WHERE Claribel low-lieth

The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,

Thick-leaved, ambrosial,

With an ancient melody

At midnight the moon cometh
And looketh down alone.
Her song the lintwhite swelleth,
The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,
The fledgling throstle lispeth,
The slumbrous wave outwelleth,
The babbling runnel crispeth,
The hollow grot replieth

Where Claribel low-lieth.

LILIAN.

AIRY, fairy Lilian,

Flitting, fairy Lilian,

When I ask her if she love me,

Claps her tiny hands above me,

Laughing all she can;

She'll not tell me if she love me,
Cruel little Lilian.

When my passion seeks

Pleasance in love-sighs,

She, looking through and through me

Thoroughly to undo me,

Smiling, never speaks:

So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple, From beneath her gathered wimple

Error from crime; a prudence to withhold; The laws of marriage charactered in gold Upon the blanched tablets of her heart; A love still burning upward, giving light To read those laws; an accent very low

In blandishment, but a most silver flow

Of subtle-paced counsel in distress,

Right to the heart and brain, though undescried,
Winning its way with extreme gentleness
Through all the outworks of suspicious pride;
A courage to endure and to obey;

A hate of gossip parlance, and of sway,
Crowned Isabel, through all her placid life,
The queen of marriage, a most perfect wife.

The mellowed reflex of a winter moon;
A clear stream flowing with a muddy one,
Till in its onward current it absorbs

With swifter movement and in purer light

The vexed eddies of its wayward brother: A leaning and upbearing parasite, Clothing the stem, which else had fallen quite, With clustered flower-bells and ambrosial orbs