XV.

"Is she thinking of talking fishes, The blue bird, or magical tree?

Perhaps I am thinking, my darling, Of something that never can be.

XVI.

"You long--don't you, dear?--for the Genii, Who were slaves of lamps and of rings; And I--I am sometimes afraid, dear,-- I want as impossible things.

XVII.

"But hark! there is Nurse calling Effie!

It is bedtime, so run away; And I must go back, or the others Will be wondering why I stay.

XVIII.

"So good-night to my darling Effie; Keep happy, sweetheart, and grow wise:- There's one kiss for her golden tresses, And two for her sleepy eyes."

VERSE: UNSEEN

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, than we Can dream of, or than nature understands; We learn not through our poor philosophy What hidden chords are touched by unseen hands.

The present hour repeats upon its strings Echoes of some vague dream we have forgot; Dim voices whisper half-remembered things, And when we pause to listen,--answer not.

Forebodings come: we know not how, or whence, Shadowing a nameless fear upon the soul, And stir within our hearts a subtler sense, Than light may read, or wisdom may control.

And who can tell what secret links of thought Bind heart to heart? Unspoken things are heard, As if within our deepest selves was brought The soul, perhaps, of some unuttered word.

But, though a veil of shadow hangs between That hidden life, and what we see and hear, Let us revere the power of the Unseen, And know a world of mystery is near.

VERSE: A REMEMBRANCE OF AUTUMN

Nothing stirs the sunny silence,-- Save the drowsy humming of the bees Round the rich, ripe peaches on the wall, And the south wind sighing in the trees, And the dead leaves rustling as they fall: While the swallows, one by one, are gathering, All impatient to be on the wing, And to wander from us, seeking Their beloved Spring!

Cloudless rise the azure heavens!

Only vaporous wreaths of snowy white Nestle in the grey hill's rugged side; And the golden woods are bathed in light, Dying, if they must, with kingly pride: While the swallows in the blue air wheeling, Circle now an eager fluttering band, Ready to depart and leave us For a brighter land!

But a voice is sounding sadly, Telling of a glory that has been; Of a day that faded all too fast-- See afar through the blue air serene, Where the swallows wing their way at last, And our hearts perchance, as sadly wandering, Vainly seeking for a long-lost day, While we watch the far-off swallows, Flee with them away!

VERSE: THREE EVENINGS IN A LIFE

I.

Yes, it looked dark and dreary, That long and narrow street: Only the sound of the rain, And the tramp of pa.s.sing feet, The duller glow of the fire, And gathering mists of night To mark how slow and weary The long day's cheerless flight!

II.

Watching the sullen fire, Hearing the dismal rain, Drop after drop, run down On the darkening window-pane: Chill was the heart of Alice, Chill as that winter day,-- For the star of her life had risen Only to fade away.

III.

The voice that had been so strong To bid the snare depart, The true and earnest will, The calm and steadfast heart, Were now weighed down by sorrow, Were quivering now with pain; The clear path now seemed clouded, And all her grief in vain.

IV.

Duty, Right, Truth, who promised To help and save their own, Seemed spreading wide their pinions To leave her there alone.

So, turning from the Present To well-known days of yore, She called on them to strengthen And guard her soul once more.

V.

She thought how in her girlhood Her life was given away, The solemn promise spoken She kept so well to-day; How to her brother Herbert She had been help and guide, And how his artist nature On her calm strength relied.

VI.

How through life's fret and turmoil The pa.s.sion and fire of art In him was soothed and quickened By her true sister heart; How future hopes had always Been for his sake alone; And now,--what strange new feeling Possessed her as its own?

VII.

Her home--each flower that breathed there, The wind's sigh, soft and low, Each trembling spray of ivy, The river's murmuring flow, The shadow of the forest, Sunset, or twilight dim-- Dear as they were, were dearer By leaving them for him.

VIII.

And each year as it found her In the dull, feverish town, Saw self still more forgotten, And selfish care kept down By the calm joy of evening That brought him to her side, To warn him with wise counsel, Or praise with tender pride.

IX.

Her heart, her life, her future, Her genius, only meant Another thing to give him, And be therewith content.

To-day, what words had stirred her, Her soul could not forget?

What dream had filled her spirit With strange and wild regret?

X.

To leave him for another,-- Could it indeed be so?

Could it have cost such anguish To bid this vision go?

Was this her faith? Was Herbert The second in her heart?

Did it need all this struggle To bid a dream depart?