SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

SONG OF THE PIXIES.

WHEN Evening's dusky car
Crowned with her dewy star

Steals o'er the fading sky in shadowy flight;
On leaves of aspen trees

We tremble to the breeze

Veiled from the grosser ken of mortal sight.
Or, haply, at the visionary hour,
Along our wildly-bowered sequestered walk,
We listen to the enamoured rustic's talk;
Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast,
Where young-eyed Loves have hid their turtle nest;
Or guide of soul-subduing power

The glance, that from the half-confessing eye
Darts the fond question or the soft reply.

Or through the mystic ringlets of the vale We flash our faery feet in gamesome prank: Or, silent-sandaled, pay our defter court, Circling the Spirit of the Western Gale, Where, wearied with his flower-caressing sport, Supine he slumbers on a violet bank; Then with quaint music hymn the parting gleam By lonely Otter's sleep-persuading stream; Or where his wave with loud unquiet song Dashed o'er the rocky channel froths along; Or where, his silver waters smoothed to rest, The tall tree's shadow sleeps upon his breast.

THE sun looks glorious 'mid a sky serene,
And bids bright lustre sparkle o'er the tide;
The clear blue ocean at a distance seen
Bounds the gay landscape on the western side,
While closing round it with majestic pride,
The lofty rocks 'mid citron groves arise;
"Sure some divinity must here reside,"

As tranced in some bright vision, Psyche cries,

And scarce believes the bliss, or trusts her charmèd eyes.

MARY TIGHE.

When lo a voice distinctly sweet she hears,
From unseen lips proceeds the heavenly sound;
"Psyche, approach, dismiss thy timid fears,
At length his bride thy longing spouse has found,
And bids for thee immortal joys abound;
For thee the palace rose at his command,

For thee his love a bridal banquet crowned;
He bids attendant nymphs around thee stand,
Prompt every wish to serve,-a fond obedient band."

Increasing wonder filled her ravished soul,
For now the pompous portals opened wide.
There, pausing oft, with timid foot she stole

Through halls high-domed, enriched with sculptured pride,
While gay saloons appeared on either side,
In splendid vista opening to her sight;
And all with precious gems so beautified,

And furnished with such exquisite delight,

That scarce the beams of heaven emit such lustre bright.

The amethyst was there of violet hue,
And there the topaz shed its golden ray,
The chrysoberyl, and the sapphire blue
As the clear azure of a sunny day,

Or the mild eyes where amorous glances play;
The snow-white jasper, and the opal's flame,
The blushing ruby, and the agate gray,

And the gem that bears his luckless name

Whose death, by Phoebus mourned, insured him deathless fame.

There the green emerald, there cornelians glow,

And rich carbuncles pour eternal light,

With all that India or Peru can show,

Or Labrador can give so flaming bright

THE PALACE OF LOVE.

To the charmed mariner's half-dazzled sight;
The coral pavèd baths with diamonds blaze;
And all that can the female heart delight
Of fair attire, the last recess displays;
And all that Luxury can ask, her eye surveys.

Now through the hall melodious music stole,
And self-prepared the splendid banquet stands,
Self-poured the nectar sparkles in the bowl,
The lute and viol, touched by unseen hands,
And the soft voices of the choral bands;
O'er the full board as brighter lustre beams
Than Persia's monarch at his feast commands;
For sweet refreshment all inviting seems

To taste celestial food, and pure ambrosial streams.

But when meek eve hung out her dewy star, And gently veiled with gradual hand the sky, Lo! the bright folding doors retiring far, Display to Psyche's captivated eye

All that voluptuous ease could ere supply To soothe the spirits in serene repose: Beneath the velvet's purple canopy, Divinely formed, a downy couch arose, While alabaster lamps a milky light disclose.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

1774-1843.

CORNELIUS AGRIPPA'S BLOODY BOOK.

CORNELIUS AGRIPPA went out one day,
His study he locked ere he went away;
And he gave the key of the door to his wife,
And charged her to keep it locked, on her life.

"And if any one ask my study to see,

I charge you trust them not with the key;
Whoever may beg, and intreat, and implore,
For your life let nobody enter that door."

There lived a young man in the house, who in vain

Access to that study had strove to obtain,

And he begged and prayed the books to see,

Till the foolish woman gave him the key.

On the study table a book there lay,

Which Agrippa himself had been reading that day;
The letters were written with blood within,
And the leaves were made of dead men's skin.

And these horrible leaves of magic between
Were the ugliest pictures that ever were seen;
The likeness of things so foul to behold,
That what they were is not fit to be told.