He sprang up like a warrior-youth awaking

To clarion-sounds upon the ringing air;

He caught her to his breast, while proud tears breaking

From his dark eyes, fell o'er her braided hair,

And "Worthy art thou," was his joyous cry,
"That man for thee should gird himself to die.

"My bride, my wife, the mother of my child!

Now shall thy name be armour to my heart; And this our land, by chains no more defiled,

Be taught of thee to choose the better part! I go thy spirit on my words shall dwell,

Thy gentle voice shall stir the Alps-Farewell!"

And thus they parted, by the quiet lake,

In the clear starlight: he, the strength to rouse Of the free hills; she, thoughtful for his sake,

To rock her child beneath the whispering boughs, Singing its blue, half-curtain'd eyes to sleep, With a low hymn, amidst the stillness deep.

PROPERZIA ROSSI.

Properzia Rossi, a celebrated female sculptor of Bologna, possessed also of talents for poetry and music, died in consequence of an unrequited attachment.-A painting by Ducis represents her showing her last work, a basso-relievo of Ariadne, to a Roman Knight, the object of her affection, who regards it with indifference.

6

PROPERZIA ROSSI.

Tell me no more, no more

Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain
To quench its haunting thirst for happiness?
Have I not lov'd, and striven, and fail'd to bind
One true heart unto me, whereon my own
Might find a resting-place, a home for all
Its burden of affections? I depart,

Unknown, tho' Fame goes with me; I must leave
The earth unknown. Yet it may be that death
Shall give my name a power to win such tears
As would have made life precious.

I.

ONE dream of passion and of beauty more;
And in its bright fulfilment let me pour
My soul away! Let earth retain a trace

Of that which lit my being, though its race

Might have been loftier far.-Yet one more dream! From my deep spirit one victorious gleam