POETRY.

MEMORY.

L—IDEAS FADING IN THE MEMORY.

QUICKLY they vanish to a land unlit,

Things for which no man cares to smile or mourn, Forgotten in the place where they were born; Each hath a marvellous history nnwrit, A fathomless river floweth over it.

Quickly they fade, with no more traces worn Than shadows flying over fields of corn Wear, as in soft processional they flit.

The thought (much like the children of our youth) Doth often die before us, and presents The very semblance of the monuments To which we are approaching aye in sooth, Where, though the brass and marble do not waste, The tints are faded, and the lines effaced.* IL—REVIVAL OF MEMORY.

Sadly, 0 sage, thine images are told.

Think we of cornfields, where again there fall, At Memory's touch that is so magical, All the long lights that ever rippled gold Across their surface, all the manifold Wavelets of tremulous shadow; and withal Through doors and windows of a haunted hall, Those buried children of the days of old, Those evanescent children of dead years, Clouded or glorious, glide into the room, Sudden as yellow leaves drop from the tree, And all the moulder'd imagery reappears, And all the letter'd lines are fair to see, And all the legend lives above the tomb.

III.—MARVELS OF MEMORY.

Strange dying, resurrection stranger yet !

In the deep chamber, Memory, let me dwell, Folded in a recess ineffable.

Lo ! in that silent chamber sadly set, I music hear, and breath of violet (Though flowers be none within a mile to smell) From breath of lily I can finely tell, And I with joy remember my regret, And I, regretful, think how glad I was.

0 men who roam to see world-famous tracts,

Immaculate skies, or from the mountain-pass The great white wonder of the cataracts, Visits to many a lovely land ye weave

In looms of fancy—but yourselves ye leave.f

WILLIAM DERBY AND RAPHOE.