The cypress, in funereal gloom,
O'erhanging many a hero's tomb,

Whose glorious memory shall outlive
All that vain pomp and wealth can give,
And shine until Time's latest day,
A halo hovering over dark decay.

Yes, there they sleep! th' immortal brave,
Entombed in holy Freedom's grave-

The mighty arm that grasped the sword,
To put to flight the savage horde,

The tongue that pleaded with applause
For liberty and God's high laws-
Cæsar and Tully, when-oh! when

Will such bright stars lume earth again?
There thrones and temples lie around,

There wrecks of empires strew the ground;

Decay and Slavery have wed,

And Genius rests her drooping head;

And placid Beauty still appears,

Meek smiling through her limpid tears,

And Death sits throned on Glory's tomb, Triumphant o'er the wrecks of joy and bloom.

II.

Ry Tiber, UGo's Castle stands,

Surrounded by an olive grove,

And glassy seas, and myrtle strands

The hallowed shrine of Peace and Love.
The guards are dozing round the wall,
Nor lamp nor step is in the hall,
And at this late and lonely hour

One waning light reveals the tower;
And there, her rosary completed,

Lord UGo's only child is seated.

Her untuned harp and jewels nigh,

A web of rich embroidery,

And flowers that breathe around the room

From golden vases sweet perfume.

She weeps not, but her restless eye

Betrays her deep anxiety;

Now lost in thoughtful mood she sits

Now hurrried o'er the carpet flits

Then by the lattice bends her ear

"A step ?-Tis he !" O God! her fear

If UGO should her lover spy,

This night-this night, they both must die!

Her slight frame like the aspen shook,

And Reason half her throne forsook;
With terror pale-with joyance drunk,
Reeling, upon the couch she sunk.

1

III.

'TIS past! LEON is in her room—
A stately youth in manhood's bloom,
With cloak of black and hood of blue,
And hair and eye of sablest hue;

And by his side a sabre gleaming,

And from his eye his high soul beaming,
Lighting his lofty olive brow

Paling with apprehension now

"Be calm sweet FLORENCE, do not fear;
The wall is scaled, and I am here,"
He said, half drawing from its sheath
His blade, "Thy champion until death;
Nor have I breath nor time to waste--
Nay, Prudence bids me be in haste;
A few words only would I say,

Which I could trust none to convey-
Words far too purc-too sacred-dear,
For other ears than thine to hear-
Wilt thou be mine?-for ever mine ?-

Speak, fairest; Angels hover near,
From thy sweet lips love's pledge divine
To waft unto a holier sphere.

Oh! is the smile in that bright eye,

That cheek's soft blush my blessed reply!-

Now I am happy! come what will,

Life hath for me nor storm nor ill.

IV.

"I know the grudge and lasting ire, Thy father bears my haughty sire; The danger of a secret union

Ay, e'en if known, this brief communion;

That if discovered, UGo's wroth

And hate may fatal prove to both :

But, dearest, this shall part us neverDeath-only death-our destinies shall sever!

66 To-morrow morn before the dawn

Awakes the lark upon the lawn,

My ship will sail for Sicily,

Where two months absent I must be,

Ere I return to Italy,

And, lovely FLORENCE, back to thee.

Twice thirty days just from this night,

Prepare thee for a speedy flight;
When bells proclaim the vesper hour,

Be near the Tiber, in the bower,

Where, by the stars and pale moonlight,

Before we've met, on many a night;