STRAY LEAVES FROM A BOOK OF HOURS.

FAIR-HAIRED am I, - a bright, capricious fay

That laughs at tears and turns away from sighs,

All habited in light, half sad, half gay,

Yet soulless, I dash down the dreams that rise

From out the soft, voluptuous couch of Night.

I strew the seeds of Passion here and there

To bud, to grow, to die; bring joy or blight

Where blooms bold Youth, where blasts the breath of Care.

I lift the veil that hangs o'er cringing Crime,

That clings to Love, or waves o'er Mystery's bed, -

A sun-bathed maiden from some arctic clime,

A selfish goddess, beautiful but dread.

NIGHT.DARK-HAIRED am I, - all clad in sable mist

That wafts its drowsy perfumes softly o'er

The panting hearts of men, and passion-kissed

I sink, voluptuous, down, and, mad, outpour

The wild, fierce tides of Love, Desire, and Hate,

That writhed and burned while reigned the weary Day.

To me hies Love to seek his cooing mate,

And Crime to wash his blood in dews away.

Around my shrines I twine my clinging arms,

And sing sweet songs that Memory lingers o'er, -

A yielding maiden, clothed in tender charms,

A languid goddess from some love-burnt shore.

TWILIGHT.GRAY-HAIRED am I, - and sad as Memory's tales,

And vague as visions in a poet's dream,

And light as mists that hang o'er shadowed vales,

Where murmurs aye some hurtling, gurgling stream;

Half sad, yet sweet, I linger but a while,

As purple clouds around a setting sun;

Scarce longer than a tear, or flitting smile,

Or shadows thrown across the rippling run

Of some swift mountain stream. I may not stay,

But wander on, - a restless, silent sprite, -

An airy fairy, come from realms of Day,

And lost in dark, mysterious shade of Night.