irst sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright;
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me--who knows how?--
To thy chamber-window, sweet!

The wandering airs, they faint
On the dark, the silent stream;
And the champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!

Oh, lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast:
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last!

Very few, perhaps, are familiar with these lines--yet no less a poet
than Shelley is their author. Their warm, yet delicate and ethereal
imagination will be appreciated by all; but by none so thoroughly as by
him who has himself arisen from sweet dreams of one beloved, to bathe
in the aromatic air of a southern midsummer night.

One of the finest poems by Willis--the very best, in my opinion, which
he has ever written--has, no doubt, through this same defect of undue
brevity, been kept back from its proper position, not less in the
critical than in the popular view.

The shadows lay along Broadway,
'Twas near the twilight-tide--
And slowly there a lady fair
Was walking in her pride.
Alone walked she; but, viewlessly,
Walked spirits at her side.

Peace charmed the street beneath her feet,
And Honor charmed the air;
And all astir looked kind on her,
And called her good as fair;
For all God ever gave to her
She kept with chary care.

She kept with care her beauties rare
From lovers warm and true,--
For her heart was cold to all but gold,
And the rich came not to woo,--
But honored well are charms to sell
If priests the selling do.

Now walking there was one more fair--
A slight girl, lily-pale;
And she had unseen company
To make the spirit quail;
'Twixt Want and Scorn she walked forlorn,
And nothing could avail.

No mercy now can clear her brow
For this world's peace to pray;
For, as love's wild prayer dissolved in air,
Her woman's heart gave way!--
But the sin forgiven by Christ in Heaven
By man is cursed alway!

In this composition we find it difficult to recognize the Will