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THE SISTERS.

BY ALARIC A. WATTS.

They grew together

Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition;

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies but one heart.

SHAKSPEARE.

I.

I SAW them when their bud of life

Was slowly opening into flower,
Before a cloud of care or strife

Had burst above their natal bower;
Ere this world's blight had marred a grace
That mantled o'er each sparkling face.

II.

What were they then? Two twinkling stars

The youngest of an April sky;

Far, far from earth, and earthborn jars,
Together shining peacefully ;-
Now borrowing, now dispensing light;
Radiant as Hope, and calm as bright.

H

III.

What were they then? Two limpid streams,
Through life's spring vale in beauty gliding;
Mingling like half-remembered dreams;

Now, 'neath the gloom of willows hiding;
Now, dancing o'er the turf away

In playful waves and glittering spray.

IV.

I see them as I saw them then,

With careless brows, and laughing eyes;
They flash upon my soul again

With all their infant witcheries;
Two gladsome spirits sent on earth
As envoys from the Muse of Mirth.

V.

Such fancy's dreams; but never more
May fancy with such dreams be fed;
These buds have withered to the core
Before their leaves had time to spread!
Those stars have fallen from on high;
Those streams are now for ever dry!

VI.

When spring was gladdening all the skies,
'Mid blooming flowers and sunny weather;

Death came to them in gentlest guise,

And smote them in his love together :

In concert thus they lived and died,
And now lie slumbering side by side!

[Some apology may be deemed necessary for the introduction of these lines, suggested several years ago by Sir Thomas Lawrence's beautiful picture, and published at the time they were written. They will, howbe new to a very large portion of the readers of this volume.]

ever,

TO THE SPIRIT OF POETRY.

BY MARY HOWITT.

I.

MEN build to thee no shrine,

Yet every holy place is filled with thee;
Dim groves and mountain-tops alike are thine,
Spirit of Poetry!

Island and ocean-peak;

Seas, where the keel of ships shall never go; Cots, palaces, and graves; whate'er can speak Of human love or woe!

II.

All are the shrines where thou

Broodest with power, not visible, yet strong;
Like odour from the rose, we know not how
Borne to the sense along!

Oh! spirit, which art pure,

Mighty and holy, and of God art sprung;

Which teachest to aspire and to endure,

As ne'er taught human tongue;

III.

What art thou? A glad spirit,

Sent down, like Hope, when Eden was no more,
From the high heavenly place thou didst inherit,
An Eden to restore!

Sent down to teach as never

Taught worldly wisdom! To make known the right;
And the strong armour of sublime endeavour
To gird on for the fight!

IV.

I see whom thou hast called

The mighty men, the chosen of the earth ;-
Strong minds invincible, and disenthralled,
Made freemen at their birth!

I see, on spirit-wings,

How thou hast set them high, each like a star,
More royal than the loftiest names of kings,
Mightier than conquerors are!

V.

How hast thou cast a glory

Over the dust of him, sublimely wise,

The blind old man, with his immortal story
Of a lost Paradise!

How thou, by mountain-streams,

Met'st the poor peasant, and from passion's leaven Refined his soul, wooing with holy themes,

In Mary's voice from heaven!

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