most eminent persons of the time, and far from their own sterile soil and inclement skies, exhibited genius, taste and acquirements, which command due hommage wherever they appeared. Surveying the habits. arts, and different institutions of diffirent eountries, they returned home fraught with the collected treasures of observation. The aged Egill, the father of Thorstein, was not only venerated among the Icelanders for his poetic powers, but for the attainments of study and travel. No rivalry nor hostility divided the happy families of Borgar-Fiord. Their dispositions were friendly, and their intercourse was cordial. Their manners were marked by the simplicity of their occupations and the nature of their property. As the Hebrew king came after his herd out of the field, so did the Iceland nobles toil in the land of their allotment. The summer sun saw them seeking their provision from the stormy ocean and the barren earth; and the long seclusion and leisure of winter, left them to the culture of talents, that af forded them occupation and delight. During the darkness of their year, wholly ignorant of all that modern art has invented to please the senses, aud sheltered only by dwellings rudely constructed of wood and turf, they recited to their assembled families the history of their forefathers, or rehearsed the perils of some famous navigator and warrior, from him, -" for shrewdness famed And numerous woes on ocean tossed endured," to those who followed the Raven standards of Hastings and Guthrum, and encountered repulse from Alfred, the best of men and of kings. Gunnlaug often repaired to the raftered hall of Thorstein, and seated himself on the settle, or upon a hewn log by the blazing fire. The mother of Helga was no more; an untimely summons had called her to the house appointed for all living. Her blooming daughter sat lonely by her father's side. The venerable Egill always held the place of precedence on the domestic hearth. "Welcome, my son," said Thorstein to Gunnlaug, as he saw him pass his threshold. A radiant smile and a glowing blush overspread the features of Helga as the eyes of Gunnlaug met her own; and the poet extended his withered hand to their favourite guest, who advanced toward the man of grey hairs, and paid his first reverence, as became him, "to palsied eld." It was from these virtuous minds that the undisciplined Gunnlaug took the tone of his riper character. The conversation of Thorstein was interesting and instructive. He looked beyond the present moment and the present scene, and described the wonders that Charlemagne, and the sciences that grew by his favor, had wrought in southern Europe; and thus he sent forth the curiosity of his young guests into a world he had never seen. The moral discourse of Egill gave to war and its attendant circumstances their proper names. He disenchanted them of their illusions, and exposed the inhumanity and grossnes, which the loud enthusiasm of Gunnlaug's younger friends had forgotten to represent, and which he had never conceived before. The admonition which Schiller in Wallenstein puts into the mouth of his hero was anticipaed by the sage Egill. "There exists," said the grandsire of Helga to the listening Gunnlaug, "a higher excellence than the warrior's. In war the strife is not the ultimate purpose. The wrong redressed, and the right obtained is all-more is ruthless crime. Deeds of outrage, wild adventures, wonders of the moment, are not those that generate the Calm, the Blissful, the enduring Mighty." Gunnlaugh looked at Helga, as the old man ceased to speak, and her soft, intelligent eyes seemed to watch the impression which the words of wisdom made upon the fervid soul of the youth. He spoke not, but what he heard fell upon his susceptible heart like rain upon the tender herb, and thought was busy while the tongue was silent. "What is human happiness?" inquired Gunnlaug. questioning his own bosom. "I see it, I feel it at this moment. This virtuous, wise old man represents it. This noble chief, who has gathered truth from the haunts and ways of men, who is himself a father, friend and benefactor, drawing down daily blessings upon his head for the good he dispenses; he is the scource of happiness to all around him; and Helga, the young and the lovely, the star of my darkness, the pearl of beauty, the delight of my eyes, and the treasure of my soul-she can bestow the purest felicity. Let me become like the father and the son-let me obtain possession of what they possess the wisdom. that is gained from the wide world-the peace that benificence procures; and O, if the gentle, the beautiful, the good refuses not my proffered love, what joy, and pride, and fondness will gladden every hour of my days to come!" He Gunnlaug, if she should favor his suit, formed a resolution to demand Helga of her father; to obtain permission from Illugi to visit the southern countries; and when a fit time should come, to return to Iceland, and claim his promised bride. He hoped, when he should have seen the world, and have reaped the fruit of experience, to become truly worthy of her. delayed not to disclose his heart to her, and to take counsel of Thorstein, The sanction of Illugi was only wanting to fulfill his wishes. The friendly chief did not refuse his hearty consent to the proposed alliance, but opposed the enterprise of foreign travel. Gunnlaug had too long meditated upon the gratification of his active powers, and all the advantages he sought, willingly to submit to denial. He fled in anger from his father's presence, and took up his abode with his mother's brother. He could only allay his displeasure and grief in the sympathy of Helga and Thorstein. Thorstein insisted warmly upon the duty of submission, and Helga urged with persuasive tenderness, that obedienee was a sacrifice to be made, cost what it would. Victory over desire and self-will, is a greater exploit than defeat of an enemy," she would say. "Be patient therefore; wait till thou art older-a few years will give power to thy pleading. In the mean time, humble thyself to thy father, and dwell under his roof. At last he will be touched by thy filial compliance he will yield to thy wishes. Thus wilt thou gain the wisdom and knowledge tho seekest; and my Helga, true through lengthened years, will reward thy virtue, tried and triumphant." Gunnlaug, thus admonished, obeyed the generous injunction. His father forgot his anger, and the son, enjoying daily the society of Helga, and partaking with her the studies her grandsire directed, his restles impetuosity passed into the subjection of self-restraint, and his feelings and manners took the elevation and refinement, that seemed natural to the inmates of Thorstein's domicil. It was not long, before the reluctance of Illugi to part with him, was overcome, and his son received his permission to go abroad. The young man would not depart without a solemn promise from Thorstein to refuse Helga to every other suitor during three years of his absence. Thorstein pledged his honor to fulfil the engagement. "But if thou dost not then claim my child," added he, "she shall no longer waste her charms. Born to be loved, to bless, and to be blest, the peerless daughter of my house and heart shall not weep alone upon her father's grave. If death claims thee, or if thy inconstant heart forgets its vows, remember, three years end my affiance with thee." Gunnlaug departed. He visited the courts of England, Ireland, Norway, and Sweden, and was every where received with the honors which noble birth, a beautiful person, and the conscious self-dignity of an elevated intellect always command. Under the tuition Egill, he had cultivated a talent for extemporaneous poetry, and whenever he appeared in the circles of the high-born and the fair, this talent was called into request. His effusions were heard with applause, and rewarded with munificence. The princes to whom he was presented became desirous to adorn their courts with so accomplished a poet. One offered him the daughter of a great lord for his bride, and another a rich domain, that the gifted stranger might become a subject, and that his talents might honor that royal state, which was then become ambitious of the refinement of genius in addition to the mere attribute of power, which alone had satisfied the barbarism of former ages. But the heart of Gunnlaug, sensible as he was to the attraction of female charms; flattered, as every human heart is with the incense of praise; and not undazzled with wealth and state, was purified from mere wordly ambition. The favor of princes, and of the ladies of their courts, never seduced his loyal affections from his simple Iceland maiden. Gunn At the court of Olave, king of Sweden, he met with Rafu, an Iceland noble, and like himself, young, and a poet. The ostensible object of Rafu's travels was the same as his own; but the motives which animated the two young men were essentially different. laug having learned the policy of many states, having studied manners, and purchased books, hoped by these acquisitions to promote the civilization of his beloved countrymen. Rafu's motives ended in self; he was fond of displaying his person and his art, and he knew no loftier aim. He was capable of great facility and fluency in the utterance of verse, and the readiness of his oratory was striking; but the shallowness of his sentiments was perceived by all but the most superficial. The true poetic enthusiasm of Gunnlaug, appealed to an answering glow in the bosom of his hearers, and his expressive tones, and more expressive features, in which genius aud sensibility spoke, as with their most spiritual organs, kindled the liveliest sympathy and admiration in his hearers. The varied gifts of the Iceland poets obtained for each a different species of homage, and from a different order of minds. That paid to Gunnlaug was "golden opinions," that to Rafu was louder and briefer. Each enjoyed his award, though Rafu felt that his rival's fame had in it a nobler character than his own. Still the points of agreement between them were many. They were both poets-they saw nature and man with that "vision and faculty divine," which is something infinitely above the speculation of common eyes-the faculty that discerns the soul in the material universe, and the heavenly in the human creature. This faculty was the responsive chord in each, and they had recol lections and pursuits that form a community of ideas. The moral man in Gunnlaug was infinitely above the apprehension of Rafu. In him the large admixture of selfish dross sullied the attribute of genius, and he never felt, nor ever offered the generous confidence of his heart to a brother's bosom. The other, on the contrary, franght with goodness, feared no guile; and, just to the merits of rival talent, never dreamed that envy could sicken at his success, or devise his undoing. As was natural, he committed his most secret thoughts to the wily Rafu, who envied and hated him in his heart. In the retirement of his thoughts, Gunnlaug always compared his Helga with the ladies of European courts, and in his eyes none could equal her. They were artificial; she was natural. They were like frail flowers; but she was a precious jewel. They were formed for princes' smiles, and to dwell in kings' houses; shethough worthy of a diadem, and if she had been born to a crown, might have exalted a nation-she was fitted for the evil day and the humble lot,-for the strong effort, the mighty love, the deep devotedness, that duty and misfortune might demand even from tender woman. When conversing without reserve with Rafu, he always embellished his absent mistress with all the poetry of his soul. No unimpassioned mind could have listened to the eloquence of his admiration without admiring its object. He presented an image of innocence the most spotless, beauty the most graceful, virtues the most sex-like and disinterested. She soon became Rafu's ideal, and he grew as much in love with the subject thus offered to his imagination, as he might have been of the present Helga. While apparent friendship existed between the Iceland poets, an occasion occurred of strong competition between them, and the more honorable suffrage was accorded to Gunnlaug. A party feeling, in regard to the rivals, broke out in the court of Olave, and deep mortification to Rafu ensued from the enthusiasm of praise which met Gunnlaug wherever he appeared. The three years of his intended absence had nearly expired, and he was not disposed to remain longer away from the valley where were his treasure and his heart. The frequent communications between separated friends, which the commerce of modern life, in every civilized country, has reduced to calculation, was unknown until recent times. Years might pass in the eleventh century, and an interchange of letters between England and Iceland never be effected; nor was the readier intercourse of the island with Sweeden much less uncertain. It happened that for nearly half the time of Gunnlaug's sojourn in Europe, he had found no direct conveyance of intelligence from himself to his father or to Helga; but he planned a mode of return to them, within the term of his engagement, and longed with impatience for the hour when he should claim the reward of his constancy. He was about to repair to the coast of Norway aud to take passage for Iceland, when he was called upon for the last display of his poetic talent at a banquet given in honor of the king's nuptials. The occasion harmonized with his own anticipations, and his glowing and rapturous strains, in accord with the excited feelings of the whole court, drew forth acclamations of delight and celebration which stung the heart of Rafu. Elated with this final triumph of his powers, Gunnlaug, with all the complacency of complete success, met his youthful associates for the last time prior to his intended departure for Sweeden. It happened that the extraordinary skill of a young nobleman in the wrestling match was extravagantly extolled, and it was maintained by some of his friends that his powers were unequalled. Others contended that Gunnlaug was superior to the Swedish youth, and that the two should end the question of proof. In this combat, commenced in perfect good-will, Gunnlaug was thrown to the ground, and suffered a severe injury in the fall. Several months of suffering and confinement followed. Rafu was well acquainted with this circumstance, and eagerly availed himself of it. He returned to Iceland with all speed, and resorted immediately to the dwelling of Thorstein. His avowed purpose was to pay his respects to the poet Egill; but Egill had died, full of years and honors, but a few months before. Thorstein received Rafu with the hospitality common to the age and the country, and with the peculiar honor due to the poetic character. Nor was Helga wanting in all observances due to her father's guest. She entertained him with the courtesy and grace which were natural to her, but her heart took no part in her reception of the stranger. Her beauty, matured, not faded, was more resplendent than ever; but her face was not lighted up with hope and joy. Disappointment had sickened her heart. A misgiving which she felt continually, but did not explain to herself, would every moment overcome her striving to subdue it, and cloud her serene brow, and prompt the swelling sigh. Rafu strove to entertain Thorstein and his daughter with the history of his travels; but he never mentioned the name of his rival at Borgar-Fiord. The descriptive powers of the enamoured youth had not given too bright a picture ef Helga. Her modesty and her beauty were all that Rafu admired in woman, and he failed not to pay her the delicate homage that expressed his sentiments; and at length he urged her father to sanction the deep attachment which had been awakened in his bosom. Thorstein did not refuse him, but he hesitated to urge his daughter. The period of Gunnlaug's intended absence was now several months expired, and Thorstein accused him of breach of his vows. Helga believed him dead-to doubt of his honor and love never entered into her confiding heart. Thorstein resented his apparent unfaithfulness to himself and to his child. His unhappy daughter imagined all the frightful circumstances of his death. Fire and flood, the bloody fray in which he fell, or the lonely wood, where, misguided and unpitied, he perished, haunted her fancy day and night. When Thorstein importuned her, to forget him, who, he said, had forgotten her, and accept the ardent and accomplished Rafu, Helga wept bitterly, and be sought him not to force her to reluctant consent of his will; and she commanded Rafu to forbear from his suit. The father and the lover listened to the virgin's sup plication, and both conciliated her unwillingness by short delay of solicitation. But Helga was at length prevailed on to name a day, when, if no intelligence of Gunnlaug should arrive, she would yield to their wishes. The time came, but no tidings came with it. An early day was fixed upon for the celebration of the marriage ceremony, according to the rites of the Christian church. A few years before, the Christian doctrin had superseded the Scandinavian mythology in Iceland, and all the solemnities of religion were become Christian ordinances. A rude edifice, in a romantic and retired spot, near Borgar-Fiord, was consecrated to the worship of the true God, and a priest of the new faith ministered at its altar. Thither Rafu and Helga, attended by his friends and principal followers and those of Thorstein, proceeded at the appointed time to exchange the marriage vow. The pale bride was accompanied by a few young females, her frequent companions, and by Ulrica, an elderly woman, her mother's sister, who felt for her all a mother's pride and fondness. The females ranged themselves on one side of the church. and the men on the other. The priest began the ceremony by a solemn chant, in which the company joined. The voice of Helga was not heard in the hymn. Her eyes were cast down, and a slight tremor might have been perceived in her whole person, as she stood by the side of Ulrica, upon whom in her agitation, she leaned for support, and who gently pressed he. throbbing hand. The chant ceased. Rafu adyanced, and Ulrica resigned the hand of Helga to his. They stood before the altar. The priest uttered a short prayer, the vows were pronounced. and a benediction closed the ceremony. "The Lord bless thee and keep thee," had just passed his lips, when a quick step trod the church portal, and a man of a noble figure, magnificently attired, entered the assembly. He looked round with a hurried glance, then darted a reproachful look upon the bride, and fixed his eye sparkling with indignation upon Rafu, who quailed at the lightning which seemed to flash upon him. "Miserable woman The intruder was Gunnlaug. perfidious wretch !" were all the words he spoke. Helga saw in an instant the consummation of her misery, and fell senseless into the arms of Ulrica. Gunnlaug rushed forward. He would have caught the sinking victim; the emotions of rage giving place to a sudden gush of tenderness. Thorstein saw his purand Rafu interposed his arm. "She is mine,” pose, cried he, repulsing him; "touch her and you die!" "She is mine!" exclaimed Thorstein, " and she shall die in my bosom." He snatched her to his heart, and dropping upon a near seat, with her drooping head on his breast, the father sustained his child. The whole assembly was thrown into confusion. Some withdrew. Others stood apart, while Thorstein and Ulrica endeavoured to restore Helga- The rivals forgot their mutual hate in intense anxiety for the object of their passion, and stood by her, each re She gardless of the other, watching for her recovery. soon breathed faintly, opened her eyes, regained her consciousness, and cligning to her father, burst into a passion of tears. She extended her hand towards her lover; "Gunnlaug, dear Gunnlaug, forgive me! I have been sternly urged to this faithless act. My heart, alas! could never consent to it!" She hid her face with both her hands. The next moment she extended her arms towards Gunnlaug, and cried, "Take me;"-" and, Father," she said, looking pitiously at her sire, "break the fetters which your hands have forged for your child." "Let us go home; nothing can be done here to calm her," said the distracted Thorstein to Ulrica. "Come neither of you," continued he, addressing the rivals," to my dwelling. I will hereafter confer with you apart. Leave us. We will depart." Helga was laid upon a sort of litter in which she had been borne to the church. Her friends slowly dispersed, and Thorstein and Ulrica, with their own domestics, took their way to their sad home. There mockery of preparation for a marriage-feast was presented to them, and desertion and misery seemed to preside at the profuse and silent board, unapproached by a human being. The two lovers seperated in mutual animosity, and each with a mutual determination on revenge. Thorstein soon met the lover, and the husbaud of his daughter. The latter demanded his wife, and the former related his misfortune and the treachery of Rafu. Thorstein was a man of honor, and he firmly refused her to the treacherous and crafty Rafu. He even permitted Gunnlaug to see and converse with the unhappy Helga. In this interview, they poured into each other's bosom the sad tale of wrong and woe, which was to end in their final seperation. Virtue commanded that se peration, and the “ spirit of the North," resentful of injury even to the death of the perpetrator, sustained by the authority of duty, could satisfy every affection to that stern behest-could submit to the forced vow paid to God, as to a power above all. Thus governed, though each loved with intensity of passion more manifest in tropical climes, this ardent lover and tender maiden tore themselves apart. Such they deemed was the will of Heaven, and their elevated sense of submission listened to no other will. On the shores of the lake Thingvalla, a delegation of Iceland nobles, land-holders and clergy, assembled once every year to deliberate upon all questions that involved the concerns of individuals of the civil order, and of religion. The scenery about Thingvalla is awful and imposing. The whole region is volcanic. Not a tree is to be seen there-not a fir lifts its spiry head, nor a stunted willow waves its yellow branches. A little scant herbage is the only appearance of vegetable life in this domain of fire-spirits. A sheet of water, expanded to considerable breadth, and stretched to a length of three leagues, reflects on its borders masses of matter arrested in every form of combustion; and where nature made a pause and destruction was stayed, the elements, ages ago, took a form which now declares that commotion only slumbers, and may awake and convulse the world, when Omnipotence shall give the word and kindle the spark. In the midst of the lake are two islands of volcanic formation, and at the southern extremity rises snow-covered mountains. But there is something life-like in the still majesty of these lonely and everlasting hills. Columns of vapor are incessantly ascending from hot springs embosomed within them, and give notice continually of the power that subtalizes and vivifies the whole material world. To this retreat the collected and embodied mind of a whole people, "the thoughtful and the free," annually withdrew themselves to examine the interests and strengthen the bands of their federation. There a public assembly of the chief men of the nation, environed only by lofty cliffs of lava, and canopied by the blue heavens, consulted together in the year 1000 of our era, whether the old heathenism or the " glorious gospel came down from heaven; and there the gainsayer, convinced, no longer bolted his argument, but yielded to the stronger reason; and there Thorgeir, the Langman, the chief magistrate of the island, pronounced with deep solemnity, that the truth, as it had been brought in unquestionable transmission through ten centuries of time, and through all continental Europe, was entirely and cordially received by the people there represented, as the law of the land and the rule of their lives. "He is a To a scene thus sanctified, the injurer and the injured both resorted. Their purpose of mutual destruction had been deferred, but it was not abandoned, through the forbearance of a few months. The remonstrances of Helga had arrested the eagerness of Gunnlaug to satisfy what he believed was just resentment. man, and thy brother-a creature in God's image-in him sullied, indeed, but not extinct. Lay not bloody hands upon him. He is guilty, but reserved for recompense by Him who knows when to inflict the blow. Spare him whom God spares." Such was the holy counsel given at their parting interview. Despite this counsel, when he afterwards encountered his adversary at Thingvalla, face to face, the matchless wrong he had wrought, stirred up in his breast the feeling of righteous scorn and unbearable sense of injury. He would end the strife in his soul with the life of this execrable deceiver. Thus resolved, Gunnlaug challenged his rival to meet him in single combat. He accepted the challenge, and the foes met on an island in the river Oxeraa, which flows into the lake Thingvalla. The challenge transpired. The assembly gained intelligence of it, and a deputation was sent to countermand it; and the combatants were parted without bloodshed. The assembly immediatly took into consideration. whether duelling was compatible with the religion of the state; and after due deliberation, by a single and unanimous act of the delegates, the duel or single combat was abolished by law in Iceland, though the practice of the trial of arms was then universal in Europe, and was sanctioned for centuries afterwards by the laws and usages of all the continental nations. Thus prohibited from deciding their quarrel in Iceland, the rivals passed over into the territory of Norway, and met once more without hindrance. The dexterity of the combatants long averted the blow-their attendants were killed, and each yet contended for the life of the other, when Gunnlaug, with a warded blow, severed the foot of his adversary. Rafu, pierced with agony, fell to the ground. "I am satisfied base wretch," exclaimed Gunnlaug, approaching the fallen man; "live Fashions For January 199 and, if it is not too late, repent your crimes." "I take not life at your hands," replied Rafu. "Do you think to escape my vengeance, while the blood you have shed calls for satisfaction? Bring me water in this helmet, my strength renewed shall prove the weakness of thy arm." The generous youth, trusting to the honor of his foe, brought him water from the neighbouring spring; but as he offered the helmet, Rafu treacherously struck his unguarded head with his sword, uttering the taunting words; "Thou thinkest yet to possess the beautiful Helga. Thine she shall never be." The blow which he dealt was not fatal. Rafu rose, the fight was renewed, and he was slain. Gunnlaug himself was mortally wounded. He survived but a brief space, uttering the name of Helga with his last breath. Helga long secluded herself from every eye, and Thorstein and Ulrica could hardly prevail on her to accompany them to the house of prayer. It was in that rustic temple, however, that she was seen by Thorkell, a noble and wealthy Icelander of another district. Her affliction was known and commiserated by all, the high and the humble, of that country. Thorkell had been touched with her misfortunes and his heart was captivated by the mingled charms of her beauty, her resignation, and her piety. He vowed to devote his whole life to her happiness,-innocent and exhalted as she was, and so cruelly wounded. welcomed by Thorstein, who persuaded his daughter that she might yet live for the happiness of othersher father her maternal friend Ulrica, her husband, would she permit him to take that enviable title, would all rejoice in her favorable decision. He was Helga listened with deference. Grief, thought she, is selfish. I may end my days in weeping for the dead. Live for the living, is the dictate of virtue,and she gave her hand to Thorkell. But her nuptials were only the forerunner of the last ceremonial that religion performs for the broken-hearted. No tenderness bestowed upon her by others, nor duty performed by herself, could restore to Helga, the happy, healthful tone of existence. The silver cord was broken-the sound of music was low-the pitcher was broke at the fountain. All that constitutes the charm of being was unfelt. There was no faculty of relish, no feeling of satisfaction left to her. While she struggled to endure and enjoy life, her frame sunk under the effort. They who loved her, saw the wane of their hopes. The flame was flickering the bright was waxing dim. They looked at one another, and sighed, but spake not. On a summer's day, the gradually sinking girl reclined upon a couch near the door of her father's house, which she had never left for her husband's. She looked earnestly and fondly upon the prospect. The valley terminated in the domain that was her lover's; and the low mansion which once was his, lay in the cheerful sunshine before her eyes. "Bring to me, dear mother," said the gentle sufferer to Ulrica, "the ermine robe which lies beneath all my vestments in the oaken chest and spread it before me.' Ulrica flew to gratify her wish. The mantle had never been worn. It was the gift of the injured departed. He had with much care and cost procured the fur from Norway, and the nurse of his infancy had wrougt it to fit the slight form of her for whom the ་ gift was intended. When it was finished, the robe was brought and presented by the lover. Helga received the present with delight. She should keep it long. She would only array herself in it upon rare occasions, in honor of the giver.' She now fixed her eyes upon it. "This is his only gift--the only one that I have preserved," said she, as she bent her eyes upon its snowy whiteness. "Emblem of his love," she murmured; pure, stainless, fit for a queen's garment. The hand which first folded it around me is cold-the voice which then spake words of affectionate endearment, is hushed and still. Alas! they will return no more. He will not come to me, but I shall go to him-and his presence will form the blessedness of a better world." The faithful girl spake no more. Her pulse fluttered for a moment then ceased-then moved again, as her dim eyes rested upon the dear token of affection, and were lighted up with a transient ray glimmering through the mists of dissolution. She leaned gently back upon the bosom of her aged attendant, and suddenly, but calmly, fell asleep in death. INFANCY. In a shell upon the sea, Is the world a shoreless ocean? And the dark "To come" before us? Now what see I? First a girl, Small, fair, and priceless as a pearl, Which some Indian diver findeth In the darkness of the sea, When the weight of waters blindeth Every one, save only he! Then thou com'st, a little maid- What is here, with eyes of jet, And see, a fuller dawn appeareth! Peace now close the chamber doors; |