ceased with their singing.
The thin red sunlight paled,
And through the boughs above me
The wind of evening wailed;--

Wailed, and the light of evening
Out of the heaven died;
And from the marsh by the river
The lonesome killdee cried.

II.

The song is done, but a phantom
Of music haunts the chords,
That thrill with its subtile presence,
And grieve for the dying words.

And in the years that are perished,
Far back in the wretched past,
I see on the May-green meadows
The white snow falling fast;--

Falling, and falling, and falling,
As still and cold as death,
On the bloom of the odorous orchard,
On the small, meek flowers beneath;

On the roofs of the village-houses,
On the long, silent street,
Where its plumes are soiled and broken
Under the passing feet;

On the green crest of the woodland,
On the cornfields far apart;
On the cowering birds in the gable,
And on my desolate heart.

A POET.

From wells where Truth in secret lay
He saw the midnight stars by day.

"O marvellous gift!" the many cried,
"O cruel gift!" his voice replied.

The stars were far, and cold, and high,
That glimmered in the noonday sky;

He yearned toward the sun in vain,
That warmed the lives of other men.

CONVENTION.

He falters on the threshold,
She lingers on the stair:
Can it be that was his footstep?
Can it be that she is there?

Without is tender yearning,
And tender love is within;
They can hear each other's heart-beats,
But a wooden door is between.

THE POET'S FRIENDS.

The robin sings in the elm;
The cattle stand beneath,
Sedate and grave, with great brown eyes
And fragrant meadow-breath.

They listen to the flattered bird,
The wise-looking, stupid things;
And they never understand a word
Of all the robin sings.

NO LOVE LOST.

A ROMANCE OF TRAVEL.

1862.
BERTHA--_Writing from Venice_.

I.

On your heart I feign myself fallen--ah, heavier burden,
Darling, of sorrow and pain than ever shall rest there! I take you
Into these friendless arms of mine, that you cannot escape me;
Closer and closer I fold you, and tell you all, and you listen
Just as you used at home, and you let my sobs and my silence
Speak, when the words will not come--and you understand and forgive
me.
--Ah! no, no! b