And love is for the high of soul--the gentle and the true.

"The voice that taught an abject world to tremble at its words,
To me was mild and musical, and mellow as a bird's--
A bird's--that couched among the green, broad branches of the date,
Tells, in its silvery songs, its gushing gladness to its mate.

"I saw him first beside the sea; near to ray father's home,
When like an ocean deity he bounded from the foam;
Ev'n then a glory seemed to breathe around him as he trod,
And my haughty soul was bowed, as in the presence of a God.

I knew not, till my heart was his, the darkness of his own,
Nor dreamed that he who knelt to me was master of a throne!
And when the fearful knowledge came, its coming was in vain,--
I had forsaken all for him, and would do so again."

Is love the offspring of the will? or is it, like a flower,
So frail that it may fade and be forgotten in an hour?
No, no! it springs unbidden where the heart's deep fountains play,
And cherished by their hallowed dew, it cannot pass away!


THE VENETIAN GIRL'S EVENING SONG.

Unmoor the skiff,--unmoor the skiff,--
The night wind's sigh is on the air,
And o'er the highest Alpine cliff,
The pale moon rises, broad and clear.
The murmuring waves are tranquil now,