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ness the eager cravings, and mad careerings of lust, and shakes from its pure vestments the breath of the pollutor's words.

Shelly sung :

"Even love is sold; the solace of all wo
Is turned to deadliest agony; old age
Shivers in selfish beauty's loathing arms,
And youth's corrupted impulses prepare
A life of horror from the blighting bane
Of commerce; whilst the pestilence that springs
From unenjoying sensualism, has filled

All human life with hydra-headed woes."

Shelly--though thou wert infinitely wrong as intending to express thine own peculiar thought, yet in casting the mind over the scenes of the social, the domestic world, we are compelled with shame and blushings, to acknowledge thee half right, in our appropriation of thy lines! Love is liberty, and marriage is not bondage, when consummated with reference to its laws as a Divine institution. But when not so consummated, when self predominates, when passion rages and triumphs, it becomes a curse, and the type of all misery. Those affections which are implanted within our nature, by the God who has created us, are not to be subordinated to gross passions, but are to be cherished, and exalted into real and triumphant being; they are to be developed in all their beauty, grace and life, and appropriated to the attainment and enjoyment of those associations which are genial and blessed. Then will the

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Fairyland.

I.

THE signal star from its silent tower,
Hath shot its ray through the sapphire sky,
And the spirits who love the star-lit hour,
Know that the time of their meeting 's nigh.
The moon is out in her path of blue,

And sheds o'er earth her paly beams,

The fiery choirs their dance pursue,

And neath the light of their twinkling gleams,

The Fairies throng to their elfin hall,

To join in the merry festival.

They leave the shades of their woven bowers,
Their homes in the forest, and grot, and dell,

And soft retreats in the balmy flowers,
Sparkling now with the nightly showers,
Of crystal tears from the stars that fell.
Away they hasten where'er they dwell,
From emerald vale and wood-crowned mountain,
From amber river and mossy cell,

From coral cavern and laughing fountain.

Some glide over the spell-bound deep,
With shell of pearl for their flying boat,
Others in lotus-leaf vessels sweep,

O'er streamlets lulled by a charm to sleep,
And some on the white-winged nautilus float.

Some dart by on the centipede

Fleet as the shaft of the lightning riven,—
Some mount their spirited fire-fly steed,
And spur him on to the dizzy speed,
Of the meteor flash in the heaven.
Others are riding the ambient air,
In chariots woven of gossamer;
Their tiger-moth coursers strong and bold,
Sprightfully beating their jewelled wings,
Purpled with scarlet and azure and gold,
Prance on with their fiery curvetings:
Their bits they champ, their feet they stamp,
The air with their gallant pawing rings!

Elf and sylph and sprite and fay,

Have left their haunts with the twilight ray,
And all are thronging in joy to meet,

Once more at their lovely monarch's feet;

For 'tis the time in the elfin year,

When all who own her gentle sway,

Must at her magic court appear,

Their wonted fealty to pay,

And then with pastime, dance and glee,

Circle round the elfin tree.

II.

Sweetly the stars are smiling on

The fairies' spell-wrought mystic grot, And they have ne'er looked down upon, A lovelier, a more dream-like spot. Behind huge clifts stupendous rise, That pierce the blue depths of the skies,— Crag o'er crag in grandeur piled,

Rock upon rock sublimely wild;

Umbered by many a chasm brown,

Where startling mystery seems to frown.—

And on the highest peak afar,
Pale Dian rests her silver car.

A streamlet pours its pearly tide
Impetuous o'er the mountain's side,-
And as the glittering surges sweep
From rock to rock, and steep to steep,
They scatter foam-wreaths to the night,
Tinted with hues of rainbow light.

Wild music from its dashing swells,
Like the clear chime of crystal bells;
And when the waters gain the plain,

With silvery arms they clasp around,

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