The burning wheels inflame

The steep descent of Heaven's untrodden way.

Fast and far the chariot flew :

The mighty globes that rolled

Around the gate of the Eternal Fane
Lessened by slow degrees, and soon appeared
Such tiny twinklers as the planet orbs

That ministering on the solar power

With borrowed light pursued their narrower way.
Earth floated then below:

The chariot paused a moment;
The Spirit then descended :
And from the earth departing

The shadows with swift wings

Speeded like thought upon the light of Heaven.

The Body and the Soul united then,
A gentle start convulsed Ianthe's frame:
Her veiny eyelids quietly unclosed;
Moveless awhile the dark blue orbs remained:

She looked around in wonder and beheld

Henry, who kneeled in silence by her couch, Watching her sleep with looks of speechless love, And the bright beaming stars

That through the casement shone.

TO MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT GODWIN.

I.

MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes, I was firm thus wert not thou;
My baffled looks did fear yet dread

To meet thy looks — I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine
With soothing pity upon mine.

II.

To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;

To curse the life which is the cage

Of fettered grief that dares not groan,

Hiding from many a careless eye

The scorned load of agony.

III.

Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,

The

thou alone should be,

To spend years thus, and be rewarded,

As thou, sweet love, requited me

When none were near- -Oh! I did wake

From torture for that moment's sake.

IV.

Upon my heart thy accents sweet

Of peace and pity fell like dew

On flowers half dead; thy lips did meet

Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw Their soft persuasion on my brain,

Charming away its dream of pain.

V.

We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear;
More need of words that ills abate ;-
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee and me.

VI.

Gentle and good and mild thou art,
Nor can I live if thou appear

Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart
Away from me, or stoop to wear
The mask of scorn, although it be
To hide the love thou feel'st for me.

LINES.

I.

THE cold earth slept below;

Above the cold sky shone ;

And all around,

With a chilling sound,

From caves of ice and fields of snow,

The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.

II.

The wintry hedge was black,

The green grass was not seen,

The birds did rest

On the bare thorn's breast,

Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.

III.

Thine eyes glowed in the glare

Of the moon's dying light;

As a fen-fire's beam,

On a sluggish stream,

Gleams dimly so the moon shone there,

And it yellowed the strings of thy tangled hair That shook in the wind of night.

IV.

The moon made thy lips pale, beloved;

The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed

On thy dear head

Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie

Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.

YET look on me

ΤΟ

take not thine eyes away,

Which feed upon the love within mine own, Which is indeed but the reflected ray

Of thine own beauty from my spirit thrown. Yet speak to me thy voice is as the tone Of my heart's echo, and I think I hear

That thou yet lovest me; yet thou alone Like one before a mirror, without care Of aught but thine own features, imaged there; And yet I wear out life in watching thee;

A toil so sweet at times, and thou indeed Art kind when I am sick, and pity me.