Taken from the Second Volume of Montagne's Essays.

I.

Stay , stay, thou lovely, fearful Snake,
Nor hide thee in yon darksome Brake:
But let me oft thy Charms review,
Thy glittering Scales, and golden Hue;
From these a Chaplet shall be wove,
To grace the Youth I dearest love.

II.

Then Ages hence, when thou no more,
Shalt creep along the sunny Shore,
Thy copy'd Beauties shall be seen;
Thy Red and Azure mix'd with Green,
In mimic Folds thou shalt display: —
Stay, lovely, fearful Adder stay.

All human Race, from China to Peru .
Pleasure, howe'er disguis'd by Art, pursue;
In various Habits this fair Idol dress,
Yet still adore her, still her Power confess;
She leads pale Hermits to the mossy Cell,
And to the Box the Fop-encircled Belle;
The Shape of Business, nay of Virtue takes,
Presides alike o'er Aldermen and Rakes;
Admirers boasts in every various Rank,
Sends some to Bagnios, others to the Bank;
Now dwells in lofty Domes and trophy'd Halls,
Now near dark Woods and pensive Water-falls;

What is a ghost? " It is something white,
(And I guess it goes barefooted, too,)
That comes from the graveyard in the night,
When the doors are lock'd, and breaks right through. "
What does it do?

" Oh, it frightens people ever so much,
And goes away when the chickens crow;
And — doesn't steal any spoons, or touch
One thing that is n't its own, you know. "
Who told you so?

" Somebody — every body, almost;

TO THE SAME

I thought that I could ever happy be,
Married to meditation, and my lyre,
Charming the moments on with melody
That fills the ear with musical desire;
But now far other thoughts my breast inspire;
I find no happiness in poesy;
Within my soul burns a diviner fire,
For now my heart is full of love and Thee!
Yet 'tis a melancholy thing to love,
When Fate or Expectation shuts the door,
When all the mercy I can hope, above
Mere friendship, is thy pity, — and no more,
For who could love a being such as me,
Thy most unhappy son, Fatality?

I lounge in the doorway and languish in vain
While Tom, Dick and Harry are dancing with Jane.

My spirit rises to the music's beat;
There is a leaden fiend lurks in my feet!
To move unto your motion, Love, were sweet

Somewhere, I think, some other where not here,
In other ages, on another sphere,
I danced with you and you with me my dear.

In perfect motion did our bodies sway,
To perfect music that was heard alway;
Woe's me, that am so dull of foot to-day!

To move unto your motion Love, were sweet;

I KNOW you're in the house;
I know you are in there;
I feel the green and breathing
All around the air.
I know you're safe and warm;
I know you're very near.
Oh, darling Tree,
Do you hear?

I promised not to look
(The way I did before),
But I can hear you purring —
Purring, through the door:
A green, soft, purring;
Just as if you knew:
Everybody here
Loves you .

Do not dream of me.
Nay, without mistake,
Even for love's sake
And all heedfully;
Do not dream of me.

All day long am I
Leal to all you ask:
Wish and care and task,
Every need come nigh; —
Still to serve and try.

But with my Good-night,
O unrippled sleep!
What is here, should keep
This bewildered light
From its skyward right?

Let me feel no need;
Not a love that clings.
Let me have my wings;
Love my wings indeed:
Give my wings godspeed!

Do not dream of me.
Waking, I'll be human; —

Love came by in bitter need.
Oh, but I was sad!
Love stood by in bitter need,
And I nothing had.

Empty were the hands I held
Silently to Love.
Empty, as my heart of words,
Stared the sky above.

Lo, Love took — and thankfully —
All my wish for true;
Then my hands gave back to me,
Full of kisses too.

1.

O Love, where is the bed we made
In scented wood-ways for sweet sin?
The sun was with us and the shade;
The warm blue covered us in:

All men their curse on us had laid —
Finding had slain us both therein;
But, summer with us, not afraid
Were we to love and sin.

O Love, the crushed place is quite fair;
Leaves have sprung back and flowers grown there;
The blithe trees no long record bore;

In her young wedded daughter's brooding eyes,
Their troubled wonder and their grave surprise,
The mother read the news; and kissed her brow
With loving, tender lips she kissed, though now
Not merely as a child-embracing mother,
But as one woman welcoming another.