Had spared in Greece-the blight that cramps and blinds,And in his olive bower at noe Had sate from earliest youth. Like one who finds A fertile island in the barren sea, One mariner who has survived his mates Many a drear month in a great ship-so he With soul sustaining songs, and sweet debates And thus Zonoras, by for ever seeing Their bright creations, grew like wisest men ; A bloodier power than ruled thy ruins then, He wandered, till the path of Laian's glen Was grass-grown-and the unremembered tears And as the lady looked with faithful grief And blighting hope, who with the news of death An old nan toiling up, a weary wight; She saw his white hairs glittering in the light Of the wood fire, and round his shoulders fall, pines and dies. "On his death-bed the lady, who can really reply to his soul, comes and kisses his lips."-The Death-bed of Athanase. The poet describes her Her hair was brown, her sphered eyes were brown, Like the dim orb of the eclipsed moon; Yet when the spirit flashed beneath, there came This slender note is all we have to aid our imagination in shaping out the form of the poem, such as its author imaged.-M.S. And Athanase, her child, who must have been FRAGMENT II. SUCH was Zonoras; and as daylight finds Thus through his age, dark, cold, and tempest-tost, The spirit of Prince Athanase, a child, And sweet and subtle talk now evermore, The youth, as shadows on a grassy hill Strange truths and new to that experienced man. So in the caverns of the forest green, By summer woodmen; and when winter's roar Hanging upon the peaked wave afar, Then saw their lamp from Laian's turret gleam, Piercing the stormy darkness, like a star Which pours beyond the sea one steadfast beam, Whilst all the constellations of the sky Seemed reeling through the storm; they did but seem For, lo! the wintry clouds are all gone by, And bright Arcturus through yon pines is glowing, Belted Orion hangs-warm light is flowing From the young moon into the sunset's chasm."O summer eve! with power divine, bestowing "On thine own bird the sweet enthusiasm Which overflows in notes of liquid gladness, Filling the sky like light! How many a spasm "Of fevered brains, oppressed with grief and madness, Were lulled by thee, delightful nightingale! And these soft waves, murmuring a gentle sadness, "And the far sighings of yon piny dale "To lighten a strange load!"-No human ear Of dark emotion, a swift shadow ran, Beheld his mystic friend's whole being shake, And, with a soft and equal pressure, prest "Paused, in yon waves her mighty horns to wet, How in those beams we walked, half resting on the sea? "Tis just one year-sure thou dost not forget "Then Plato's words of light in thee and me Lingered like moonlight in the moonless east, For we had just then read-thy memory "Is faithful now-the story of the feast; And Agathon and Diotima seemed From death and dark forgetfulness released." FRAGMENT III. "TWAS at the season when the Earth upsprings From slumber, as a sphered angel's child, Shadowing its eyes with green and golden wings, Stands up before its mother bright and mild, To see it rise thus joyous from its dreams, Waxed green-and flowers burst forth like starry beams; The grass in the warm sun did start and move, Loves then the shade of his own soul, half seen How many a spirit then puts on the pinions Sweeps in his dream-drawn chariot, far and fast, "Twas at this season that Prince Athanase Pass'd the white Alps-those eagle-baffling mountains The waterfalls were voiceless-for their fountains Which clanged along the mountain's marble brow- FRAGMENT IV. THOU art the wine whose drunkenness is all Catch thee, and feed from their o'erflowing bowls Investest it; and when the heavens are blue Its deserts and its mountains, till they wear In spring, which moves the unawakened forest, That which from thee they should implore :-the weak The strong have broken-yet where shall any seek A garment whom thou clothest not? MARLOW, 1817. MARIANNE'S DREAM. A PALE dream came to a Lady fair, I know the secrets of the air; And things are lost in the glare of day, And thou shalt know of things unknown, At first all deadly shapes were driven And as towards the east she turned, The sky was blue as the summer sea, There was no sight nor sound of dread, |