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Hears not also mortal Life?
Hear not we, unthinking Creatures!
Slaves of folly, love, or strife,
Voices of two different natures?

Have not we too?

- yes, we have

Answers, and we know not whence;
Echoes from beyond the grave,
Recognized intelligence !

Such rebounds our inward ear
Catches sometimes from afar;-
Listen, ponder, hold them dear;
For of God, - of God they are.




ETHEREAL minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye

Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest, which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still.

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine;
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!




"WITH sacrifice before the rising morn
Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired;
And from the infernal Gods, 'mid shades forlorn
Of night, my slaughtered Lord have I required:
Celestial pity I again implore; -

Restore him to my sight, - great Jove, restore!"

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands;

While, like the sun emerging from a cloud,

Her countenance brightens and her eye expands,

Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows ; And she expects the issue in repose.

O terror! what hath she perceived?

O joy!

What doth she look on? - whom doth she behold?
Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence? his corporeal mould?
It is,
if sense deceive her not, - 't is He!
And a God leads him, winged Mercury!

Mild Hermes spake,


and touched her with his

That calms all fear: "Such grace hath crowned

thy prayer,

Laodamía! that at Jove's command

Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air:

He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space; Accept the gift, behold him face to face!"

Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp ;

Again that consummation she essayed ;
But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp
As often as that eager grasp was made.
The Phantom parts, but parts to reunite,
And reassume his place before her sight.

"Protesiláus, lo! thy guide is gone! Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice: This is our palace, yonder is thy throne;

Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.
Not to appall me have the Gods bestowed
This precious boon, and blest a sad abode."

"Great Jove, Laodamía! doth not leave
His gifts imperfect: Spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
But in reward of thy fidelity.

And something also did my worth obtain;
For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

“Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold
That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand
Should die; but me the threat could not withhold:
A generous cause a victim did demand;

And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain;

A self-devoted chief, by Hector slain.”


Supreme of Heroes! bravest, noblest, best!

Thy matchless courage I bewail no more,

Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest

By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore;

Thou found'st


and I forgive thee here thou

A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

"But thou, though capable of sternest deed,
Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave;
And he whose power restores thee hath decreed
Thou shouldst elude the malice of the grave:

Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair
As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

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"No Spectre greets me, no vain Shadow this;
Come, blooming Hero, place thee by my side!
Give, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss
To me, this day a second time thy bride!"
Jove frowned in heaven: the conscious Parca threw
Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue.

"This visage tells thee that my doom is past: Nor should the change be mourned, even if the joys Of sense were able to return as fast

And surely as they vanish. Earth destroys
Those raptures duly Erebus disdains:

Calm pleasures there abide — majestic pains.

"Be taught, O faithful Consort, to control
Rebellious passion: for the Gods approve
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul;
A fervent, not ungovernable, love.

Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn
When I depart, for brief is my sojourn


Ah, wherefore?

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Did not Hercules by force Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb Alcestis, a reanimated corse,

Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years, And Æson stood a youth 'mid youthful peers.

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