THE NEW YORK 3 SYLIC LIBRARY

OR, I ENOX AND

NIGHT on the Adriatic! Night!
And like a mirage of the plain,
With all her marvelous domes of light,
Pale Venice looms along the main.

No sound from the receding shore,-
No sound from all the broad lagoon,
Save where the light and springing oar
Brightens our track beneath the moon :-

Or save when yon high campanile
Gives to the list'ning sea its chime,
Or when those dusky giants wheel
And smite the ringing helm of Time.

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The domes suspended in the sky

Swim all above me broad and fair; And in the wave their shadows lie,Twin phantoms of the sea and air.

O'er all the scene a halo plays,

Slow fading, but how lovely yet;
For here the brightness of past days
Still lingers though the sun is set.

Oft in my bright and boyish hours
I lived in dreams what now I live;
And saw these palaces and towers
In all the light Romance can give.

They rose along my native stream,

They charm'd the lakelet in the glen; But in this hour the waking dream

More frail and dreamlike seems than then.

A matchless scene, a matchless night,
A tide below, a moon above;
An hour for music and delight,
For gliding gondolas and love!

But here, alas! you hark in vain,—
When Venice fell her music died;
And, voiceless as a funeral train,

The blacken'd barges swim the tide.

The harp which Tasso loved to wake Hangs on the willow where it sleeps; And while the light strings sigh or break, Pale Venice by the water weeps.

FROM GOLD TO GRAY,

81

From Gold to Gray.

GOLDEN curls, profusely shed
O'er the lovely childish head,-
Sunshine, caught from summer skies,
Surely here entangled lies:
Tossing to the light winds free,
Radiant clusters, what are ye?

Types of Time, that ripples now
In bright wavelets o'er the brow,~
Of the hopes and feelings blest,
Dancing in the guileless breast,
Beautiful in their unrest:
Sparkling joys and willing faith
Rising to Love's lightest breath;
Of the future seeming fair,
That may darken with the hair.

What are ye, dark waving bands,
That beneath the maiden's hands
Sweep around her graceful head?
Fold o'er fold of changeful shade