Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair No stone is there to show-no tongue to say What was; no dirge, except the hollow seas, Mourns o'er the beauty of the Cyclades. But many a Greek maid, in a loving song, Sighs o'er her name: and many an islander With her sire's story makes the night less long; Valour was his, and beauty dwelt with her : If she loved rashly, her life paid for wrongA heavy price must all pay who thus err, In some shape; let none think to fly the danger, For soon or late Love is his own avenger. HEBREW MELODIES. She walks in beauty, like the night One shade the more, one ray the less, And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, A mind at peace with all below, II. If that high world, which lies beyond The eye the same, except in tears- It must be so: 'tis not for self That we so tremble on the brink; And striving to o'erleap the gulf, Yet cling to Being's severing link. To hold each heart the heart that shares, III. Oh, snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And oft by yon blue gushing stream 'Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! Away! we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou-who tell'st me to forget, IV. My soul is dark-Oh! quickly string Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. That sound shall charm it forth again; If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain: But bid the strain be wild and deep, Nor let thy notes of joy be first: I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, Or else this heavy heart will burst; For it hath been by sorrow nurst, And ached in sleepless silence long; And now 'tis doom'd to know the worst, And break at once-or yield to song. V. I saw thee weep-the big bright tear I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze As clouds from yonder sun receive Which scarce the shade of coming eve Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their own pure joy impart; Their sunshine leaves a glow behind When coldness wraps this suffering clay, But leaves its darkened dust behind. Then, unimbodied, doth it trace By steps each planet's heavenly way? Or fill at once the realms of space, A thing of eyes, that all survey? Eternal, boundless, undecayed, A thought unseen, but seeing all— In one broad glance the soul beholds, Its eye shall roll through chaos back; Its glance dilate o'er all to be, Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear, Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die. VII. Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star! VIII. THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride: |