ITALY.

A FRAGMENT.

EARTH'S loveliest land, I behold thee in dreams,
All gay in the summer, and drest in sun-beams,
In the radiance, which breaks on the purified sense
Of the thin-bodied ghosts that are flitting from hence.
The blue distant Alps, and the blue distant main,
Bound the far varied harvests of Lombardy's plain;
The rivers are winding in blue gleaming lines,
Round the ruins of old, round the hill of the vines,-
Round the grove of the orange-the green myrtle bower,
By castle and convent-by town and by tower.
Through the bright summer azure,the north breezes flow,
That are cooled in their flight over regions of snow;
Or westerly gales, on whose wandering wings,
The wave of the ocean its silver dew flings.
Bright-bright is the prospect, and teeming the soil,
With the blessings of promise—with corn, wine and oil;
Where the cypress and myrtle, and orange combine,
And around the dark olive gay wantons the vine.
Woods leafy and rustling, o'ershadow the scene,
With their forests of branches, and changes of green;
And glossy their greenness, where sunshine is glistening,
And mellow their music, where SILENCE is listening;
And the streamlets glide through them with glassier hue,
And the sky sparkles o'er them with heavenlier blue.
How deep and how rich is the blush of the rose,
That spreading and wild o'er the wilderness grows!—
What waftures of incense are filling the air,
For the bloom of a summer unbounded is there!

The soft and voluptuous spirit of love,

Rules in earth and in ether-below and above!-
In the blue of the sky-in the glow of the beam,
In the sigh of the wind, and the flow of the stream!

At his presence the rose takes a ruddier bloom,
And the vine-bud exhales a more wanton perfume;
Even the hoarse surging billows have softened their roar,
And break with a musical fall on the shore.

Blackwood's Magazine.

LINES

WRITTEN IN THE BAY OF NAPLES.

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.

THE sun is warm, the sky is clear,

The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
The purple noon's transparent light
Around its unexpanded buds;

Like many a voice of one delight-
The winds, the birds, the ocean floods,
The city's voice itself is soft, like Solitude's.

I see the Deep's untrampled floor

With green and purple sea-weeds strown;

I see the waves upon the shore,

Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown;

I sit upon the sands alone,

The lightning of the noon-tide ocean

Is flashing round me, and a tone

Arises from its measured motion;

How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion.

Alas! I have nor hope nor health,

Nor peace within, nor calm around,

Nor that content surpassing wealth,
The sage in meditation found,

And walked with inward glory crowned-
Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure :
Others I see whom these surround-

Smiling they live, and call life pleasure;

To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

Yet now despair itself is mild,

Even as the winds and waters are;
I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away this life of care,
Which I have borne and yet must bear,
Till death, like sleep, might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air

My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.

Some might lament that I were cold,
As I, when this sweet day is gone,
Which my lost heart, too soon grown old,
Insults with this untimely moan;

They might lament-for I am one
Whom men love not, and yet regret,

Unlike this day, which, when the sun
Shall on its stainless glory set,

Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet.

INSCRIPTION

ON A NATURAL GROTTO, NEAR A DEEP STREAM.

HEALTH, rose-lipped cherub, haunts this spot :She slumbers oft in yonder nook;

If in the shade you trace her not,

Plunge and you'll find her in the brook!

THE CONTRAST.

And this is love:

Can you then say that love is happiness!

THERE were two portraits :-one was of a Girl
Just blushing into woman;-it was not

A face of perfect beauty, but it had

A most bewildering smile, there was a glance
Of such arch playfulness and innocence,
That as you looked, a pleasant feeling came
Over the heart, as when you hear a sound
Of cheerful music. Rich and glossy curls
Were bound with roses, and her sparkling eyes
Gleamed like Thalia's, when some quick device
Of mirth is in her laugh. Her light step seemed
Bounding upon the air, with all the life,

The buoyant life, of one untouched by sorrow.

There was another,-drawn in after years :-
The face was young still; but its happy look
Was gone; the cheek had lost its colour, and
The lip its smile; the light that once had played
Like sunshine in those eyes, was quenched and dim,
For tears had wasted it; her long dark hair
Floated upon her forehead, in loose waves,
Unbraided; and upon her pale thin hand
Her head was bent, as if in pain;-no trace
Was left of that sweet gaiety, which once
Seemed as if grief could darken not,-as care
Would pass and leave behind no memory.-
There was one whom she loved undoubtingly,
As youth will ever love,―he sought her sinile,
And said most gentle things, although he knew
Another had his vows.-Oh! there are some
Can trifle, in cold vanity, with all

The warm soul's precious throbs, to whom it is
A triumph that a fond devoted heart

Is breaking for them,-who can bear to call
Young flowers into beauty, and then crush them!

Affectious trampled on, and hopes destroyed,
Tears wrung from very bitterness, and sighs
That waste the breath of life,--these all were her's
Whose image is before me. She had given

Life's hope to a most fragile bark,—to love!

"Twas wrecked--wrecked by love's treachery! She knew,
Yet spoke not of his falsehood; but the charm
That bound her to existence was dispelled.-

Her days were numbered:-She is sleeping now.
Literary Gazette.

L. E. L.

SONG.

THE dream on the pillow
That flits with the day,
The leaf of the willow

A breath wears away;

The dust on the blossom,
The spray on the sea;
Aye-ask thine own bosom!
Are emblems of thee.

When I trust the dark waters,

And tempests are near,

List the blue sea's false daughters,
And think not on fear,—

Oh then I'll believe thee

As once I believed,

Nor dread thou'lt deceive me

As thou hast deceived.

When the rose blooms at Christmas,

I'll trust thee again,

Or the snow falls in summer,

But never till then!

L. E. L.