And the young airs that ripple the treetops Have got their wings from his enchanted hopes; The dazzling dews that on the roses lie, The sunlit streams, are kindled at his eye. With heedless heart he looks across the land, The jocund bells are pealing fast and sweet; Softly they come and go like lovers' sighs; In one glad thought the young and old are met, The simple and the wise. And far as he can see on either hand They reach the woodman in the morning air, fills The teeming vales and robes the summer hills, Are his; but from his tower he only sees One mossy roof half hid among the trees: There is the priceless treasure that outweighs The dark-eyed damsel bending o'er the spring, The scholar in dim cloister murmuring; All hopes and memories, all delights and The marriage-bells ring merrily; hark! they praise. ring. And if his heart is plumed with sudden The sun is kissing off from wood-nymphs' Mine are the sires whom bards have sung, Swift shadows stream away, and wood-notes If one shrewd tongue should jar and seek to | While memories of green woods and tuneful shame streams, The bride's new honors with her humble Lone songs and autumn sighs and April Thou in her place wouldst merit thine own In shadows of soft melancholy flow Long be their days, their fortunes glad and That memory, like the deep light in the sure! His blood is noble, and her heart is pure. Look on her in that aspect ye may spy west, Shall bathe your hearts before ye sink to rest Not only with the glow of good things gone, But with the faith that when your days be done lie; Spring, summer, with their changes o'er it Another morn shall rise, but not to set, ye shall meet once more as once ye met, flit, And morn and eve, twin-sisters, look from it; And tain-streams, Your beauty wrought to glory by the Giver, | 'Mid herbless rocks, more pure than moun- To gaze upon her, hold her in his sight, A lightning-flash of what the soul shall be. Chaster than light, warmer than imaged beams, More full of promise than the vernal heaven, "What is more welcome than the dawn of day To lone men lost in darkness and dismay, But she-dear heart!-her thoughts are fled To aged eyes than is the hue of wine, once more shine Of sudden waters in a desert place, A guileless maiden and a gentle youth. Through arches of wreathed rose they take He the fresh morning, she the better May, And blissful tears, and tender smiles that fall VII. In passing winds it drowns, Tender tones; But clearer comes the wildbird's eager call, of sight, wiles And live-oh, live-in songs that shall be For her own truth, and lifts her head and sung, smiles. The first true hearts that made the old world They shall not change that truth by any young." Farewell! and other tongues took up the art: Oh, may her love change them before they part! sound, As though the long-lost Golden Age were The minstrels wait them at the palace She turns away; her eyes are dim with tears; heard; Her heart grows strong on that remembered. word. Again in dreams I heard the marriage-bells wells. And alleluias from the deep I heard, The naked shape of man there saw I plain, Lastly stood War, in glittering arms yclad, In his right hand a naked sword he had And in his left that kings and kingdoms And songs of star-browed seraphim in- Famine and fire he held, and there sphered, That ebbed unto that sea without a shore, withal He razèd towns, and threw down towers and all. “The crooked straight, and the rough places Cities he sacked, and realms that whilom plain !" FREDERICK TENNYSON. flowered In honor, glory and rule above the rest voured, Consumed, destroyed, wasted, and never ceased Till he their wealth, their name and all oppressed; His face forehewed with wounds, and by his side Against whose force in vain it is to fight: There hung his targe with gashes deep and |