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

Aminta. Atto I. Sc. 1.

DEATH 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 seemed excited

By some superior fire, nor died with themSurviving all its sisters, but was left

Sole grace of Night's dishonoured 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 seemed 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 learned to fear,
And at the terrors of that sound had fled.

His mane, like plumes upon a pall-clad bier, Flowed on the murky air; from either eye Flashed 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 unconquered star that would not die.

He wore no ruling curb, that pallid Horse Swayed by the guiding thong—what need of reins Upon a trackless and unbounded course?

And never eagle swept the ærial plains,

Or dolphin dashed along the yielding wave, Or tiger leaped to prey, 'mid hunger's pains,

So swiftly as that steed his pathway clave 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 into chaos were returning :
He grasped 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 streamed a meteor in Death's hand, to kill The living, and the life of this creation,

And Earth's appalling destiny fulfil.

With that broad flame, in its red coruscation,
He lashed her bosom-and thence widely 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 accurst,

Arose convulsively, and wailings dire:-
The darkness of the past was Paradise
To that hot element's destroying ire!

Of wave and forest, that inflamed abyss Ingulphed the dwellers, with encircling swoop; And all forms human that survived till this.

A pale, emaciate, and despairing troop

Sped to the summit of the loftiest rock,
As shipwrecked seamen, on their vessel's poop,

When all beside hath sunk, tumultuous flock For yet a breath of life;-but vainly triedFor still the fires arose with ten-fold shock.

Servant and lord were there-but Power had died; And Beauty moved not, where she once was chief, — No 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 rushed, in strange, disordered 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 towered aloft, did one pale lover lie,

Left with the loved one he would not forsake.

She seemed 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 tombed in fire-but still above,
That solitary star, unscathed, was gleaming,
And with its silver li ght the red flames clove;

A token of some future glory seeming,

Amid the present's fiery desolation;
As when the elements with storms are teeming,

And winter o'er the land holds tyrant station, Some branch of green proclaims a new-born spring, Will robe the young earth in its decoration.

Death, on his pallid Horse, rode triumphing—

Fit rider for such steed-through flaming space;
When, swifter than the lightning's swiftest wing,

From the high star's pre-eminence of place,
A bright bolt, shot in thunder-and both rider
And steed fell powerless in their giant race!

And when that courser, and his grim bestrider
Annihilation found-the tranquil star
Seemed as descending, for its disk grew wider,

And a perennial morning dawned afar,
Where beauty, light, and life, and love were rising,—
No death could conquer, and no sorrow mar:

Aperient dews descended, as baptising

A new creation with their crystal rain;
And light, the universal space comprising,

The thronging clouds which did therein remain— The gloomy pilgrims of the morning air

Dissolved in lustre, till the eye in vain

Had looked to heaven, to view the bright star there ;—
Its orb, expanded to infinity,

Was heaven: sweet sounds, and visions fair,

And beings lovelier than the loveliest sky,
Were born eternal-and the voice of mirth,
And smile of joy, grew eloquent on high.

And spirits, which once wore the clay of earth,
Clothed in the glory of etherial wings,

Rose to a second, and diviner birth

And quaffed of life, at life's undying springs.

Literary Magnet.

CŒUR DE LION AT THE BIER OF HIS

FATHER.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

The body of Henry the Second lay in state in the Abbey-church of Fontevraud, where it was visited by Richard Cœur de Lion, who, on beholding it, was struck with horror and remorse, and reproached himself bitterly for that rebellious conduct which had been the means of bringing his father to an untimely grave.

TORCHES were blazing clear, hymns pealing deep and slow, Where a king lay stately on his bier, in the church of Fontevraud.

Banners of battle o'er him hung, and warriors slept beneath,

And light, as noon's broad light, was flung on the settled face of death.

On the settled face of death a strong and ruddy glare,

Though dimmed at times by the censer's breath, yet it fell still brightest there;

As if each deeply-furrowed trace of earthly years to show,-
Alas! that sceptred mortal's race had surely closed in woe!

The marble floor was swept by many a long dark stole,

As the kneeling priests, round him that slept, sang mass for the parted soul;

And solemn were the strains they poured through the stillness of the night,

With the cross above, and the crown and sword, and the silent king in sight.

There was heard a heavy clang, as of steel-girt men the tread, And the tombs and the hollow pavement rang with a sounding thrill of dread;

And the holy chant was hushed awhile, as, by the torchs' flame, A gleam of arms, up the sweeping aisle, with a mail-clad leader

came.

He came with haughty look, an eagle-glance and clear,

But his proud heart through his breastplate shook, when he stood beside the bier!