O, my love, my love is young!

THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.

HE

E had landed on an island of the still-vexed Bermoothes. . . . Hark, how Ariel sang overhead! What splendour in the heavens! What marvels of beauty about his enchanted head! And, oh you wonder! Fair Flame, by whose light the glories of being are now first seen.

Miranda, Prince Ferdinand is at your feet.

Radiant

Or is it Adam, his rib taken from his side in sleep, and thus transformed, to make him behold his Paradise, and lose it?

GEORGE MEREDITH.

O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true-love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lover's meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

TWELFTH NIGHT ii. 3.

This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire

HAMLET ii. 2.

THAT stifled hum of Midnight, when Traffic has

lain down to rest; and the chariot-wheels of Vanity, still rolling here and there through distant streets, are bearing her to Halls roofed-in, and lighted to the due pitch for her; and only Vice and Misery, to prowl or to moan like night-birds, are abroad that hum, I say, like the stertorous, unquiet slumber of sick Life, is heard in Heaven! Oh, under that hideous coverlet of vapours and putrefactions and unimaginable gases, what a FermentingVat lies simmering and hid! The joyful and the sorrowful are there; men are dying there, men are being born; men are praying,-on the other side of a brick partition, men are cursing; and around them is the vast, void night.

UPON a tranced summer night

CARLYLE.

Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmèd by the earnest stars,
Dream, and so dream all night without a stir,
Save for one gradual solitary gust

Which comes upon the silence, and dies off,
As if the ebbing air had but one wave.

KEATS.

Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. ROMEO AND JULIET ii. 4.

FURT

NURTHERMORE, Laura may not have understood the etherealities of Petrarch. It is possible that less homage may have had a greater effect upon her: and it is highly probable (as Petrarch, though he speaks well of her natural talents, says she had not been well educated) that she had that instinctive misgiving of the fine qualities attributed to her, which is produced, even in the vainest of women, by flights to which they are unaccustomed.

LEIGH HUNT.

THAT noble flame, which my breast keeps alive, Shall still survive

When my soul's fled.

Nor shall my love die, when my body's dead;
That shall wait on me to the lower shade,

And never fade;

My very ashes in their urn

Shall, like a hallowed lamp, for ever burn.

CAREW.

JULY