Which, all the time of this sweet air, His hand had held, untasted, up,

As if 't were fix'd by magic there,— And naming her, so long unnamed, So long unseen, wildly exclaim'd, "O NOURMAHAL! O NOURMAHAL ! Hadst thou but sung this witching strain,

I could forget-forgive thee all,

And never leave those eyes again."

The mask is off-the charm is wroughtAnd SELIM to his heart has caught, In blushes more than ever bright,

His NOURMAHAL, his Haram's Light!

66

FROM

THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS."

LILIS.

HERE was a maid, of all who move
Like visions o'er this orb, most fit
To be a bright young angel's love,
Herself so bright, so exquisite!
The pride, too, of her step, as light
Along the' unconscious earth she went,
Seem'd that of one, born with a right
To walk some heavenlier element,

And tread in places where her feet
A star at ev'ry step should meet.
"T was not alone that loveliness

By which the wilder'd sense is caught-
Of lips, whose very breath could bless ;
Of playful blushes, that seem'd nought
But luminous escapes of thought;
Of eyes that, when by anger stirr'd,
Were fire itself, but, at a word

Of tenderness, all soft became As though they could, like the sun's bird, Dissolve away in their own flame

Of form, as pliant as the shoots

Of a young tree, in vernal flower; Yet round and glowing as the fruits,

That drop from it in summer's hour "Twas not alone this loveliness

That falls to loveliest women's share, Though, even here, her form could spare From its own beauty's rich excess

Enough to make ev'n them more fairBut 'twas the Mind, outshining clear

Through her whole frame-the soul, still near, To light each charm, yet independent

Of what it lighted, as the sun

That shines on flowers, would be resplendent

Were there no flowers to shine upon

"T was this, all this, in one combined—
The' unnumber'd looks and arts that form
The glory of young woman-kind,
Taken, in their perfection, warm,
Ere time had chill'd a single charm,
And stamp'd with such a seal of Mind,
As gave to beauties, that might be
Too sensual else, too unrefined,
The impress of Divinity!

THE PRAYER OF LILIS.

T was in dreams that first I stole

With gentle mastery o'er her mind— In that rich twilight of the soul,

When reason's beam, half hid behind The clouds of sleep, obscurely gilds Each shadowy shape the Fancy builds'Twas then, by that soft light, I brought