Her large and lustrous eyes of blue, Her ringing laughter woke the dells, She swept on her bewildering way, I love all bright and happy things, All sights and sounds whence pleasure springs; A GLIMPSE OF LOVE. SHE came, as comes the summer wind, Unheralded she came and went, Or, like the sudden April bow That spans the violet-waking rain, She made those blessed flowers to grow Which may not fall or fade again. Far sweeter than all things most sweet, THE DESERTED FARM. THE elms were old, and gnarled, and bent; The fields, untilled, were choked with weeds, Where, every year, the thistles sent Wider and wider their wingèd seeds. Farther and farther the nettle and dock The last who ever had ploughed the soil Instead, you saw how the rabbit and mole Burrowed and furrowed with never a fear; How the tunnelling fox looked out of his hole, Like one who notes if the skies are clear. No mower was there to startle the birds With the noisy whet of his reeking scythe; The quail, like a cow-boy calling his herds, Whistled to tell that his heart was blithe. Now all was bequeathed, with pious care- And the squirrels, those merry woodland friars. BALBOA. FROM San Domingo's crowded wharf To seek in unknown lands afar And hid among the freighted casks, But, when the fading town and land "What villain thou ?" Fernandez cried, He wore a manly form and face, They saw not his ambitious soul; But when Fernandez' vessel lay A murmur, born of discontent, Grew loud among the men : And with the word there came the act; They raised Balboa from the ranks, And, while he took command beneath A mighty purpose grasped his soul, He saw the mountain's far blue height, Then with his men he scaled the crags, He led them up through tangled brakes, And through the storm of poisoned darts He gained the turret crag-alone- An ocean boundless and unknown, And, while he raised upon that height The mighty purpose grasped him still, Then down he rushed with all his men, And plunged knee-deep into the sea, And, while he held above his head He waved his gleaming sword. and smote For Rome! for Leon! and Castile! Thrice gave the cleaving blow; And thus Balboa claimed the sea, Three hundred years ago. FRAGMENTS FROM THE REALM OF DREAMS. "The baseless fabric of a vision." OFT have I wandered through the Realm of Dreams, And heard low music breathe above, around, As if the soul of Melody were pent Hung in a viewless tower of air, And with cnchanted pipes beguiled its own despair. Were these which came of late to me Through fields of slumber, and did seem to be I walked the woods of March, and through the boughs And in the sheltered nooks Lay spots of snow, Or with a noiseless flow Stole down into the brooks; And where the springtime sun haa longest shone And felt the bridge beneath me sway and quiver; And upward blew a blinding cloud of mist; But there the friendly Iris built its arch, |