with bursting Spring, And live with living nature, a pure rejoicing thing. I had a sister once who seemed just like a violet; Her morning sun shone bright and calmly purely set; When the violets were in their shrouds, and Summer in its pride, She laid her hopes at rest, and in the year's rich beauty died. 

  

  

       THE AMULET     

      Your picture smiles as first it smiled; The ring you gave is still the same; Your letter tells, O changing child! No tidings since it came. Give me an amulet That keeps intelligence with you,—      Red when you love, and rosier red, And when you love not, pale and blue. Alas! that neither bonds nor vows Can certify possession; Torments me still the fear that love Died in its last expression. 

  

  

       THINE EYES STILL SHINED     

      Thine eyes still shined for me, though far I lonely roved the land or sea:      As I behold yon evening star, Which yet beholds not me. This morn I climbed the misty hill And roamed the pastures through; How danced thy form before my path Amidst the deep-eyed dew! When the redbird spread his sable wing, And showed his side of flame; When the rosebud ripened to the rose, In both I read thy name. 

  

  

       EROS     

      The sense of the world is short,—      Long and various the report,—        To love and be beloved; Men and gods have not outlearned it; And, how oft soe'er they've turned it, Not to be improved. 

  

  

       HERMIONE     

      On a mound an Arab lay, And sung his sweet regrets And told his amulets:      The summer bird His sorrow heard, And, when he heaved a sigh profound, The sympathetic swallow swept the ground.       'If it be, as they said, she was not fair, Beauty's not beautiful to me, But sceptred genius, aye inorbed, Culminating in her sphere. This Hermione absorbed The 

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