ISABEL. EYES not down-dropt nor over-bright, but fed Pure vestal thoughts in the translucent fane Revered Isabel, the crown and head, The stately flower of female fortitude, Of perfect wifehood and pure lowlihead The intuitive decision of a bright Error from crime; a prudence to withhold; Of subtle-paced counsel in distress, Right to the heart and brain, though undescried, Winning its way with extreme gentleness Through all the outworks of suspicious pride; A courage to endure and to obey; A hate of gossip parlance, and of sway, Crowned Isabel, through all her placid life, With swifter movement and in purer light Of rich fruit-bunches leaning on each other— MADELINE. THOU art not steeped in golden languors, Ever-varying Madeline. Through light and shadow thou dost range, Sudden glances, sweet and strange, Delicious spites, and darling angers, And airy forms of flitting change. Smiling, frowning, evermore, Revealings deep and clear are thine Of wealthy smiles: but who may know Whether smile or frown be fleeter? Whether smile or frown be sweeter, Who may know? Frowns perfect-sweet along the brow Like little clouds sun-fringed, are thine, Thy smile and frown are not aloof Each to each is dearest brother; A subtle, sudden flame, By veering passion fanned, About thee breaks and dances. When I would kiss thy hand, The flush of angered shame O'erflows thy calmer glances, And o'er black brows drops down But when I turn away, Thy taper finge A CHA WITH a half-glance 66 At night he said, "" Of this most intricat Teach me the nothin Yet could not all cre Beyond the bottom o He spake of beauty Saw no divinity in g Life in dead stones, Then looking as 'twe He smoothed his chi And said the earth w He spake of virtue: More purely, when t Pallas and Juno sitting by: And with a sweeping of the arm, Most delicately hour by hour With lips depressed as he were meek Upon himself himself did feed: And other than his form of creed, With chiselled features clear and sleek. THE POET. THE poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above; Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love. He saw through life and death, through good and ill, He saw through his own soul. The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll, |