One more, then, one more strain,

To earthly joy and pain

A rich, and deep, and passionate farewell!

I pour each fervent thought,

With fear, hope, trembling, fraught,

Into the notes that o'er my dust shall swell.

THE IMAGE IN LAVA.*

THOU thing of years departed!
What ages have gone by,
Since here the mournful seal was set
By love and agony !

Temple and tower have moulder'd,

Empires from earth have pass'd,—

And woman's heart hath left a trace
Those glories to outlast!

* The impression of a woman's form, with an infant clasped to

the bosom, found at the uncovering of Herculanenm.

And childhood's fragile image,

Thus fearfully enshrin'd,

Survives the proud memorials rear'd

By conquerors of mankind.

Babe! wert thou brightly slumbering

Upon thy mother's breast,

When suddenly the fiery tomb

Shut round each gentle guest?

A strange, dark fate o'ertook you,
Fair babe and loving heart!

One moment of a thousand

Yet better than to part!

pangs

Haply of that fond bosom,

On ashes here impress'd, Thou wert the only treasure, child! Whereon a hope might rest.

Perchance all vainly lavish'd

Its other love had been,

And where it trusted, nought remain'd But thorns on which to lean.

Far better then to perish,

Thy form within its clasp,

Than live and lose thee, precious one! From that impassion'd grasp.

Oh! I could pass all relics

Left by the pomps of old,

To gaze on this rude monument,
Cast in affection's mould.

Love, human love! what art thou?
Thy print upon the dust
Outlives the cities of renown

Wherein the mighty trust!

Immortal, oh! immortal

Thou art, whose earthly glow Hath given these ashes holiness——

It must, it must be so !