ERRATA.

Page iii, line 11, read expression, or very near this," + may, &c

iii, last line, read we now look back half oblivious upon

iv, line 12, read identified by ingenious persons who can see

things very plainly which I could not see, and of &c.

v, line 16, read unfinished, and some much mutilated.

,, 12, line 15, for but is she read unless she's

160, line 1, for still to soar through read the deep sense of

160, line 2, dele?

On an Imaginary Portrait,

BY R. A.

"Cet amour . . . sera aussi durable qu'il a été subit et irréfléchi. J'ai à peine vu vos traits, je ne sais rien de votre vie; mais j'ai senti que mon âme vous appartenait, et que je ne pourrais jamais la reprendre."- GEORGE SAND, La Comtesse de Rudolstadt.

Is there a tint of grief* on face so fair?

Is there a shade of sadness there?-'tis thine,
Thine-fair as fairest flowers of earth, and sweeter—
Pale in the white light of ethereal heaven,

And lit with the diviner life within.

*

"Upon her face there was a tint of grief,
And an unquiet drooping of the eye,
As if its lid were charged with unshed tears."

BYRON, The Dream.

B

Is there a tear, or aught of earthly source,
In all the dark depths of those heavenly eyes?

'Tis, then, the sadness of a seraph, here

Far from her native heaven, her only home;
Pitying the world she walks awhile and sees
Too well herself unseen, unfelt, unknown;
Pitying herself,* if angels deign to feel.

'Tis not the tint of grief. 'Tis but the shade
Of thought-what thought? Is aught unquiet there?
Knows she unrest who, such unrest imparting,
Seems still serene as heaven and pure and high?

Breathes she her balmy maiden slumbers now
Soft as the less sweet eglantine its sigh

Through the wreathed window-now, when wandering airs

Float free now, when the twining eglantine,
That steals upon the rose, that scales the bower
Where Fancy may not tread, its incense wafts
To the lulled lovely, and the midnight moon,
Pale as pale passion, pale and beautiful,
Looks in, and lingers, and the folded flower
In happy dreams exhales its secret sweets?

"J'ai pitié de moi-même." -CORNEILLE. (Corinne, and "Quasimodo," ditto.)