Against the sky, in outlines clear and rude,

The cleft rocks stand, while sunbeams slant between; And lulling winds are murmuring through the wood, Which skirts the bright bay with its fringe of green.

Come forth! All motion is so gentle now,

It seems thy step alone should walk the earth,-
Thy voice alone, the 'ever soft and low,'

Wake the far-haunting echoes into birth.
Too wild would be Love's passionate store of hope,
Unmeet the influence of his changeful power,-
Ours be companionship, whose gentle scope
Hath charm enough for such a tranquil hour.

And slowly, idly wandering, we will roam,

Where the high cliffs shall give us ample shade;
And watch the glassy waves, whose wrathful foam
Hath power to make the seaman's heart afraid.
Seek thou no veil to shroud thy soft brown hair,
Wrap thou no mantle round thy graceful form;
The cloudless sky smiles forth as still and fair,
As though earth ne'er could know another storm.

Come! Let not listless sadness make delay,

Beneath Heaven's light that sadness will depart; And as we wander on our shoreward way,

A strange, sweet peace shall enter in thine heart. We will not weep, nor talk of vanish'd years,

When, link by link, Hope's glittering chain was riven: Those who are dead, shall claim from love no tears, Those who have injured us, shall be forgiven.

We will not mar the scene we will not look
To the veil'd future, or the shadowy past;
Seal'd up shall be sad Memory's open book,
And childhood's idleness return at last!
Joy, with his restless, ever-fluttering wings,

And hope, his gentle brother, — all shall cease:
Like weary hinds that seek the desert springs,
Our one sole feeling shall be peace-deep peace!

MRS. NORTON.

THALATTA.

THALATTA! Thalatta!

I greet thee, thou Ocean eternal!
I give thee ten thousand times greeting,
With heart all exulting,

As, ages since, hailed thee

Those ten thousand Greek hearts
Fate-conquering, home-yearning,
World-renowned Greek hearts.

The billows were rolling,

Were rolling and roaring,

The sun poured downward incessant,

The flickering rose-lights;

Affrighted, the flocks of the sea-mews

Fluttered away, loud-screaming;

The steeds were stamping, the shields were

clanging,

And far, like a shout of victory, echoed
Thalatta! Thalatta!

Thou Ocean eternal, I greet thee !

Like the tongue of my home is the dash of thy waters! Like dreams of my childhood now sparkle before me All the wide curving waves of thy rolling dominions.

I hear, as told newly, the old recollections
Of the trifles I loved in the days of my boyhood.
Of the bright gifts that glittered at Christmas; -
Of the scarlet branches of coral,

Of the gold fish, the pearls and gay sea-shells,
Of all that thou guardest in secret
Below in thy houses of crystal!

Oh! how have I languished,
Aweary in exile!

Like a poor faded flower shut up in an herbal
Lay my heart in my bosom;

'Tis as if I had sat through the winter
A sick man shut up in my chamber,
And now I had suddenly left it,
And dazzlingly glitters upon me
The emerald Spring, sun-awakened !

On the trees are the white blossoms rustling,
And the young flowers look up unto me,
With moist loving eyes full of beauty.

All is fragrance and murmurs and soft airs and laughter,

And in the blue heavens the birds are a-singing Thalatta! Thalatta!

From the German of HEINE.

THE LIFE OF SEAS.

THESE grassy vales are warm and deep, Where apple-orchards wave and glow; Upon soft uplands whitening sheep Drift in long wreaths. Below Sun-fronting beds of garden-thyme, alive With the small humming merchants of the hive; And cottage homes in every shady nook Where willows dip and kiss the dimples of the brook.

But all too close against my face

My thick breath feels these crowding trees;
They crush me in their green embrace :

I miss the Life of Seas;

The wild free life that round the flinty shores
Of my bleak isles expanded ocean pours,

So free, so far, that in the lull of even,

Nought but the rising moon stands in your path to heaven.

These inland love-bowers sweetly bloom,

White with the hawthorn's summer snows;

Along soft turf a purple bloom

The elm at sunset throws;