XIX. THE SPELL. THY presence dwells around, above, below, On all things lovely and most beautiful, I hear thy voice in every fountain's flow— Behold thy smile on every flower I cull Along the hills, and vales, and gliding streams ;I see thine eyes' soft hues in the blue heavenThy brow's bright radiance in the iris' beams— Thy mind in the calm pensiveness of even. The tuneful birds, the rills, the rustling treesThe beings of the air-the stars-the moonAll sounds, and tones, and stirring melodies— And aught with which my spirit doth commune In heaven, or earth, or space, or thought, to me Hold eloquent discourse, adorèd one, of thee. XX. I THINK OF THEE. I THINK of thee till all is dim confusion, And my pale cheeks are drenched with a suffusion At the pure well-spring of thy bosom sips, And feeds upon the nectar of thy lips, Then back, with gathered sweets, returns to me, As homeward comes at eve the honey-freighted bee. XXI. BURIED YEARS. YEARS have been tombed, Adhémar, since we met, Beneath the stars I've wrapped me up in dreams, And sung with birds from early dawn till night, To wean my heart and win my thoughts from thee— But thou wert still my star, my sun, my Deity. XXII. THE FAILURE. LONG have I left the world, each dazzling scene If soul so tost can ever be serene; From vulgar eyes my bosom's woe to screen, And strive, beloved one, if such thing can be, To rend the chain that binds my life to theeAll tears and pinings banish-and again To mingle in the world as proud and gay. But here, week after week, and year I stay Feeding my heart upon its hoarded sighsThe memory of thy form and radiant eyes, Which woke the plaintive spirit of my lyre, And kindled in my breast a never-dying fire. XXIII. THE RESIGNATION. A THOUSAND times I've vowed to say farewell— A thousand times I've striven the storm to quell And sworn to cool my heart in Lethe's wave- But such resolves like morning mist depart, |