My spirit-barque shall go.

Learned not the breeze its fairy lore
Where sweetest measures throng?
A maiden sings, beside the stream,
Some chorus, wild and long,
Mingling and blending with its roar,
Like rainbows turned to song!

I hear it, like a strain that sweeps
The confines of a dream;
Now fading into silent space,
Now with a flashing gleam
Of triumph, ringing through the deeps
Of forest, dell and stream!

Away! away! I hear the horn
Among the hills of Spain:
The old, chivalric glory fires
Her warrior-hearts again!
Ho! how their banners light the morn,
Along Grenada's plain!

I hear the hymns of holy faith
The red Crusaders sang,
And the silver horn of Ronceval,
That o'er the tecbir rang
When prince and kaiser through the fray
To the paladin's rescue sprang!

A beam of burning light I hold!--
My good Damascus brand,
And the jet-black charger that I ride
Was foaled in the Arab land,
And a hundred horsemen, mailed in steel,
Follow my bold command!

Through royal cities speeds our march--
The minster-bells are rung;
The loud, rejoicing trumpets peal,
The battle-flags are swung,
And sweet, sweet lips of ladies praise
The chieftain, brave and young.

And now, in bright Provencal bowers,
A minstrel-knight am I:
A gentle bosom on my own
Throbs back its ecstasy;
A cheek, as fair as the almond flowers,
Thrills to my lips' reply!

I tread the fanes of wondrous Rome,
Crowned with immortal bay,
And myriads throng the Capitol
To hear my lofty lay,
While, sounding o'er the Tiber's foam,
Their shoutings peal away!

Oh, triumph such as this were worth
The poet's doom of pain,
Whose hours are brazen on the earth,
But golden in the brain:
I close the starry gate of dreams,
And walk the dust again!

POWER OF BEAUTY,

AND A PLAIN MAN'S LOVE.

BY N. P. WILLIS.

That the truths arrived at by the unaccredited short road of
"magnetism" had better be stripped of their technical phraseology, and
set down as the gradual discoveries of science and experience, is a
policy upon which acts many a sagacious believer in "clairvoyance."
Doubtless, too, there is, here and there, a wise man, who is glad
enough to pierce, with the eyes of