c save that of love!' said
Glaucus, in a tremulous voice, and fixing his eyes on Ione.

'Ah!' said Nydia, with a sort of shiver, and she awoke mechanically a
few pleasing notes from her lyre; the sound suited well the tranquility
of the waters, and the sunny stillness of the noon.

'Play to us, dear Nydia, said Glaucus--'play and give us one of thine
old Thessalian songs: whether it be of magic or not, as thou wilt--let
it, at least, be of love!'

'Of love!' repeated Nydia, raising her large, wandering eyes, that ever
thrilled those who saw them with a mingled fear and pity; you could
never familiarize yourself to their aspect: so strange did it seem that
those dark wild orbs were ignorant of the day, and either so fixed was
their deep mysterious gaze, or so restless and perturbed their glance,
that you felt, when you encountered them, that same vague, and chilling,
and half-preternatural impression, which comes over you in the presence
of the insane--of those who, having a life outwardly like your own, have
a life within life--dissimilar--unsearchable--unguessed!

'Will you that I should sing of love?' said she, fixing those eyes upon
Glaucus.

'Yes,' replied he, looking down.

She moved a little way from the arm of Ione, still cast round her, as if
that soft embrace embarrassed; and placing her light and graceful
instrument on her knee, after a short prelude, she sang the following
strain:

NYDIA'S LOVE-SONG

I

The Wind and the Beam loved the Rose,
And the Rose loved one;
For who recks the wind where it blows?
Or loves not the sun?

II

None knew whence the humble Wind stole,
Poor sport of the skies--
None dreamt that the Wind had a soul,
In its mournful sighs!

III

Oh, happy Beam! how canst thou prove
That bright love of thine?
In thy light is the proof of thy love.
Thou hast but--to shine!

IV

How its love can the Wind reveal?
Unwelcome its sigh;
Mute--mute to its Rose let it steal--
Its proof is--to die!

'Thou singest but sadly, sweet girl,' said Glaucus; 'thy youth only
feels as yet the dark shadow of Love; far other inspiration doth he
wake, when he himself bursts and brightens upon us.

'I sing as I was taught,' replied Nydi