"Oh, save me! Oh, guide me! And bid the deep hide me,

For he grasps me now by the hair!"

The loud ocean heard, To its blue depth stirred, And divided at her prayer;

And under the water

The Earth's white daughter
Fled like a sunny beam,

Behind her descended,
Her billows unblended
With the brackish Dorian stream:
Like a gloomy stain
On the emerald main,

Alpheus rushed behind,

As an eagle pursuing
A dove to its ruin

Down the streams of the cloudy wind.

Under the bowers Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearled thrones, Through the coral woods Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones; Through the dim beams Which amid the streams Weave a network of coloured light; And under the caves

Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night; Outspeeding the shark,

And the swordfish dark, Under the ocean foam,

And up through the rifts Of the mountain clifts They passed to their Dorian home.

And now from their fountains
In Enna's mountains,

Down one vale where the morning basks,
Like friends once parted
Grown single-hearted,

They ply their watery tasks.
At sunrise they leap
From their cradles steep
In the cave of the shelving hill;
At noontide they flow
Through the woods below
And the meadows of Asphodel;
And at night they sleep
In the rocking deep
Beneath the Ortygian shore;
Like spirits that lie
In the azure sky,

When they love but live no more.

THE QUESTION.

I DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way, Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring,

And gentle odours led my steps astray,

Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, [est in dream. But kissed it and then fled, as thou might

There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,

Daisies, those pearlèd Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxlips; tender bluebells, at whose birth

The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets

Its mother's face with heaven-collected

tears, [it hears. When the low wind, its playmate's voice,

And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, Green cow-bind and the moonlightcoloured May, [whose wine And cherry blossoms, and white cups, Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day;

And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,

With its dark buds and leaves, wander

ing astray; [gold, And flowers azure, black, and streaked with Fairer than any wakened eyes behold.

And nearer to the river's trembling edge There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white,

And starry river buds among the sedge, And floating water - lilies, broad and bright,

Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; [green And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep Assoothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the suppliant heavenward lifts her hands;

While, like the sun emerging from a cloud,
Her countenance brightens, and her eye
expands;
[grows;
Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature
And she expects the issue in repose.

Oh, terror! what hath she perceived ?--Oh,
joy!
[behold?
What doth she look on?-whom doth she
Her hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence-his corporeal mould?
It is if sense deceive her not-'tis he!
And a god leads him -winged Mercury!

Mild Hermes spake, and touched her with his wand

That calms all fear: "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer,

Laodamia; that at Jove's command
Thy husband walks the paths of upper air:
He comes to tarry with thee three hours'
space:

Accept the gift-behold him face to face!

Forth sprang the impassioned queen her lord to clasp!

Again that consummation she essayed; But unsubstantial form eludes her grasp As often as that eager grasp was made. The phantom parts-but parts to re-unite, And re-assume his place before her sight.

"Protesilàus, lo! thy guide is gone! Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice: This is our palace,-yonder is thy throne: Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.

Not to appal me have the gods bestowed This precious boon, and blest a sad abode."

"Great Jove, Laodamia! doth not leave His gifts imperfect:-spectre though I be, I am not sent to scare thee or deceive; But in reward of thy fidelity.

And something also did my worth obtain; For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

"Thou know'st, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand

Should die; but me the threat could not withhold.

A generous cause a victim did demand, And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain, A self-devoted chief-by Hector slain."

"Supreme of heroes-bravest, noblest, best! Thy matchless courage I bewail no more, Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest

By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore; Thou found'st-and I forgive thee-here thou art

A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

"But thou, though capable of sternest deed, Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave; And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed [the grave;

That thou shouldst cheat the malice of Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

"No spectre greets me, no vain shadow this: Come, blooming hero, place thee by my side! Give, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss

To me, this day, a second time thy bride!" Jove frowned in heaven; the conscious Parcæ threw

Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue.

"This visage tells thee that my doom is past:
Know, virtue were not virtue if the joys
Of sense were able to return as fast
And surely as they vanish.-Earth destroys
Those raptures duly-Erebus disdains:
Calm pleasures there abide, majestic pains.

"

'Be taught, O faithful consort, to control Rebellious passion; for the gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul; A fervent, not ungovernable love. [mourn Thy transports moderate; and meekly When I depart, for brief is my sojourn.'

'Ah, wherefore? Did not Hercules by force Wrest from the guardian monster of the tomb

Alcestis, a reanimated corse, [bloom? Given back to dwell on earth in vernal Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years, And son stood a youth 'mid youthful peers.

"The gods to us are merciful, and they Yet further may relent; for mightier far Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway

Of magic potent over sun and star,
Is love, though oft to agony distrest,
And though his favourite seat be feeble
woman's breast.