e in the crowd,
And little Phyllida sobs aloud.

Then stately shades I seem to see,
Master, to companion thee;
Horace and Fielding here are come
To bid thee to Elysium.
Last comes one all golden: Fame
Calls thee, Master, by thy name,
On thy brow the laurel lays,
Whispers low--"In After Days."

TO MADAME JUMEL

Of all the wind-blown dust of faces fair,
Had I a god's re-animating breath,
Thee, like a perfumed torch in the dim air
Lethean and the eyeless halls of death,
Would I relume; the cresset of thine hair,
Furiously bright, should stream across the gloom,
And thy deep violet eyes again should bloom.

Methinks that but a pinch of thy wild dust,
Blown back to flame, would set our world on fire;
Thy face amid our timid counsels thrust
Would light us back to glory and desire,
And swords flash forth that now ignobly rust;
Maenad and Muse, upon thy lips of flame.
Madness too wise might kiss a clod to fame.

Like musk the charm of thee in the gray mould
That lies on by-gone traffickings of state,
Transformed a moment by that head of gold,
Touching the paltry hour with splendid Fate;
To "write the Constitution!" 'twere a cold,
Dusty and bloomless immortality,
Without that last wild dying thought of thee.

TO A BEAUTIFUL OLD LADY

(To the Sweet Memory of Lucy Hinton)

Say not--"She once was fair;" because the years
Have changed her beauty to a holier thing,
No girl hath such a lovely face as hers,
That hoards the sweets of many a vanished spring,
Stealing from Time what Time in vain would steal,
Culling perfections as each came to flower,
Bearing on each rare lineament the seal
Of being exquisite from hour to hour.

These eyes have dwelt with beauty night and morn,
Guarding the soul within from every stain,
No baseness since the first day she was born
Behind those star-lit brows could access again,
Bathed in the light that streamed from all things fair,
Turning to spirit each delicate door of sense,
And with all lovely shapes of earth and air
Feeding her wisdom and her innocence.

Life that, whate'er it gives, takes more away
From those that all would take and little give,
Enriched her treasury from day to day,
Making each hour more wonderful to live;
And touch by touch, with hands of unseen skill,
Transformed the simple beauty of a