THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD.-SANTA TERESA'S BOOK-MARK. "Dear child! who me resemblest so," come, O come with me! Happy together let us go, It whispered, The earth unworthy is of thee ! "Here none to perfect bliss attain; The soul in pleasure suffering lies; Joy hath an unde: tone of pain, And even the happiest hours their sighs. "Fear doth at every portal knock; "What, then, shall sorrows and shall fears "Ah no! into the fields of space, "Let no one in thy dwelling cower, As thy first moments once they hailed. "Without a cloud be there each brow; There let the grave no shadow cast; When one is pure as thou art now, The fairest day is still the last." And waving wide his wings of white, TO ITALY. FROM FILICAJA. TALY! Italy! thou who 'rt doomed to wear The fatal gift of beauty, and possess The dower funest of infinite wretchedness Written upon thy forehead by despair; Ah! would that thou wert stronger, or less fair, That they might fear thee more, or love thee less, Who in the splendor of thy loveliness Seem wasting, vet to mortal combat dare! Then from the Alps I should not see descending Such torrents of armed men, nor Gallic horde Drinking the wave of Po, distained with gore, Nor should I see thee girded with a sword Not thine, and with the stranger's arm contending, Victor or vanquished, slave forevermore. 249 WANDERER'S NIGHT-SONGS. FROM GOETHE. I. THOU that from the heavens art, Every pain and sorrow stillest, And the doubly wretched heart Doubly with refreshment fillest, I am weary with contending! Why this rapture and unrest Peace descending Come, ah, come into my breast! O'er all the hill-tops In all the tree-tops Hardly a breath; The birds are asleep in the trees: Wait; soon like these: Thou too shalt rest. REMORSE. FROM AUGUST VON PLATEN. THE MASQUE OF PANDORA, L THE WORKSHOP OF HEPHÆSTUS. NEPHÆSTUS, standing before the statue of Pan- NOT fashioned out of Gold, like Hera's throne, HEPHAESTUS. Will she become immortal like ourselves? THE VOICE. The form that thou hast fashioned out of clay The gods shall shower on her their benefactions, HEPHÆSTUS. THALIA. O sweet, pale face! O lovely eyes of azure, By what name shall I call thee? Nymph or Muse, EUPHROSYNE. Dowered with all celestial gifts, That ennobles and uplifts And delights the heart, Fair on earth shall be thy fame As thy face is fair, And Pandora be the name Thou henceforth shalt bear. II. OLYMPUS. HERMES, putting on his sandals. Shall make a sound like the Pandaan pipes, A maiden to Prometheus, in his tower, Wherefore? wherefore? And by my cunning arguments persuade him A wind shakes the house. I hear the rushing of a mighty wind She is alive; she breathes, but yet she speaks not! CHORUS OF THE GRACES. In the workshop of Hephaestus Have the Gods to four increased us Who were only three? Beautiful in form and feature, Lovely as the day, Can there be so fair a creature Formed of common clay? To marry her. What mischief lies concealed Forth I launch III. TOWER OF PROMETHEUS ON MOUNT PROMETHEUS. I HEAR the trumpet of Alectryon 1 Hermes, They pardon not; they are implacable, HERMES. As a pledge Captain of thieves! Hast thou again been steal- Of reconciliation they have sent to thee ing The heifers of Admetus in the sweet HERMES. And thou, Prometheus; say, hast thou again PROMETHEUS. So early in the dawn? This divine being, to be thy companion, PROMETHEUS. I need them not. I have within myself Why comest thou hither And aspirations are my only friends. CHORUS OF THE FATES. CLOTHO. How the Titan, the defiant, LACHESIS. Sorely tired and sorely tempted, ATROPOS. Tempt no more the noble schemer; IV. THE AIR. HERMES, returning to Olympus. As lonely as the tower that he inhabits, Hammers and flames like all his brother's forges! There is a spell upon me. Now as an arrow from Hyperion's bow, Into the air returning to Olympus. O joy of motion! O delight to cleave c oud, Myself as light as sunbeam or as cloud! EPIMETHEUS. Thou thyself Art the enchantress, and I feel thy power PANDORA. O, let me stay, How beautiful are all things round about me, As rocks the bough from which a bird takes Multiplied by the mirrors on the walls! wing. V. THE HOUSE OF EPIMETHEUS. EPIMETHEUS. BEAUTIFUL apparition! go not hence! PANDORA. No Goddess am I, nor of heavenly birth, EPIMETHEUS. Thy face is fair; There is a wonder in thine azure eyes What treasures hast thou here! Yon oaken chest, |