The Sleeping Figure of Modena.

Once—but many a thought hath fled
Since the time whereof I speak-
Once the sleeping lady bred
Beauty in her burning cheek,
And the lovely morn did break
Through the azure of her eyes,
And her heart was warm and meek,
And her hope was in the skies.

But the lady loved at last,
And the passion pain'd her soul,
And her hope away was cast
Far beyond her own control;
And the clouded thoughts that roll
Through the midnight of the mind,
O'er her eyes of azure stole,
Till they grew deject and blind.

He to whom her heart was given,
When May music was in tune,
Dared forsake that amorous heaven,

Changed and careless soon.

Oh, what is all beneath the moon
When his heart will answer not?
What are all the dreams of noon
With our love forgot?

Heedless of the world she went,
Sorrow's daughter, meek and lone,
Till some spirit downwards bent,
And struck her to this sleep of stone.
Look !-Did old Pygamalion
Sculpture thus, or more prevail,
When he drew the living tone
From the marble pale?

57

Stanzas

ON THE DEATH OF AN EARLY FRIEND.

I

BY WILLIAM GIFFORD.

WISH I was where Anna lies,
For I am sick of lingering here;

And every hour Affliction cries,
"Go and partake her humble bier!"

I wish I could! for when she died
I lost my all; and life has proved,
Since that sad hour, a dreary void-
A waste unlovely and unloved.

But who, when I am turn'd to clay,
Shall duly to her grave repair,

And pluck the ragged moss away,

And weeds that have " 'no business there?"

And who with pious hand shall bring

The flowers she cherish'd, snowdrops cold,

And violets that unheeded spring,

To scatter o'er her hallow'd mould?

And who, while memory loves to dwell
Upon her name, for ever dear,
Shall feel his heart with passion swell,
And pour the bitter, bitter tear?

I did it; and, would fate allow,

Should visit still, should still deploreBut health and strength have left me now, And I, alas! can weep no more.

Death on the Pale Horse.

Take then, sweet maid, this simple strain,
The last I offer at thy shrine;

Thy grave must then undeck'd remain,
And all thy memory fade with mine.

And can thy soft persuasive look,

Thy voice that might with music vie,
Thy air that every gazer took,

Thy matchless eloquence of eye;

Thy spirits, frolicsome as good;

Thy courage, by no ills dismay'd;
Thy patience, by no wrongs subdued;
Thy gay good humour;-can they "fade ?"

59

Beath on the Pale Horse.

"Mostrommi l'ombra d'una breve notte
Allora quel che'l lungo corso, e'l lune
Di mille giorni non m'avea mostrato."

DEATH

Aminta, Atto i., Sc. 1.

rode,-the moon-deserted stars on high,
Like radiant tears upon the gloomy brow
Of sorrowful Night, hung dim and tremblingly,
As if their little lamps not long could glow;
And when the Pale Steed on the earth alighted,
They faded all as with a smile of woe;
And air had been a chaos dark and blighted,
But for the pure rays of one lovely gem,
Heaven's solitary child, which seem'd excited
By some superior fire, nor died with them-
Surviving all its sisters, and was left

Sole grace of Night's dishonour'd diadem.

At every bound that giant courser cleft

The reeling earth with adamantine hoof;

And, as of all her solid heart bereft,

The earth's dark surface seem'd a boundless roof, Crowning vacuity; for every tread

Of that gigantic steed did ring aloof
With overpowering echo, deep and dread,
That Valour's fearless self had learn'd to fear,
And at the terrors of that sound had fled.

His mane, like plumes upon a pall-clad bier,
Flow'd on the murky air; from either eye
Flash'd a red radiance in his stern career.
The only light that bade the darkness fly,

Save the mild beams, whose bright and argent

source

Was the unconquer'd star that would not die.

He wore no ruling curb, that pallid Horse; Sway'd by the guiding throng, what need of reins Upon a trackless and unbounded course? And never eagle swept the aerial plains,

Or dolphin dash'd along the yielding wave, Or tiger leap'd to prey 'mid hunger's pains, So swiftly as that steed his pathway clove Through every barrier o'er the dying land,

To make Death lord of earth, and earth one grave,

Death! the gaunt rider, at whose mute command

Earth's glories unto chaos were returning : He grasp'd a sword within his mouldering hand; And for all infinite destruction yearning,

Before the eyes of his exulting steed,

In the intensity of fury burning,

He waved the weapon, and thence drew the seed Of fire, which grew on either edge, until

It did the fierceness of its source exceed,

And stream'd a meteor in Death's hand to kill

Death on the Pale Horse.

61

The living, and the life of this creation,

And Earth's appalling destiny fulfil.

With that broad flame, in its red coruscation,
He lash'd her bosom, and thence sudden burst
One wild and universal conflagration.

The human silence, by the darkness nursed,
Broke its long trance at that awakening fire;
And shrieks of agony, from lips accursed,
Arose convulsively, and wailings dire;

The darkness of the past was paradise To the hot element's destroying ire.

Of wave and forest that inflamed abyss
Ingulf'd the dwellers with encircling swoop,
And all forms human that survived till this.
A pale, emaciated, and despairing troop

Sped to the summit of the loftiest rock,
As shipwreck'd seamen on their vessel's poop,
When all beside hath sunk, tumultuous flock
For yet a breath of life; but vainly tried-

For still the fires arose with tenfold shock.

Servant and lord were there; but Power had died;
And Beauty moved not where she once was chief;
Nor tone commanding left the lips of Pride;

But ever, ever did Despair and Grief

Beat heavy on all hearts with leaden hands,
Till to the fear of death was death relief.
And many rush'd, in strange disorder'd bands,

Amid the world of fire; none cried, “Come back!" With the dear accent that despair withstands:

Till on the peak which, barren all and black,
Still tower'd aloft, did one pale lover lie,

Left with the loved one he would not forsake.
She seem'd to view him with a spirit's eye,
Full of the immortality of love-

And woman's faithful heart was last to die.

The earth lay tomb'd in fire; but still above