And from twelve dolphin shapes a fountain plays,

Just in the centre of the spacious hall:

But whether in the sunbeam formed to sport,

These shapes once lived in suppleness aud pride,

And then, to decorate this wondrous court, Were stolen from the waves and petrified,

Or, moulded by some imitative Gnome,

And sealed all o'er with gems, they were but stone,

Casting their showers and rainbows 'neath the dome,

To man or angel's eye might not be known.

No snowy fleece in these sad realms was found,

Nor silken ball, by maiden loved so well; But ranged in lightest garniture around,

In secily folds a shining tapestry fell.

And fibres of asbestos, bleached in fire,

And all with pearls and sparkling gems o'er-flecked,

Of that strange court composed the rich attire,

And such the cold, fair form of sad Tabathyam decked.

Of marble white the table they surround, And reddest coral decked each curious couch,

Which softly yielding to their forms was found,

And of a surface smooth and wooing to the touch.

Of sunny gold and silver, like the moon,

Here was no lack; but if the veins of earth,

Torn open by man's weaker race, so soon Supplied the alluring hoard, or hero had birth

That baffling, maddening, fascinating art, Half told by Sprite most mischievous, that he

Might laugh to see men toil, then not impart,

The guests left unenquired:- 't is still a mystery.

Once, in caution, I could fly thee.
Now I nothing could deny thee

In a look if death there be,
Come, and I will gaze on thee !

FAREWELL TO CUBA

ADIEU, fair isle! I love thy bowers,

I love thy dark-eyed daughters there; The cool pomegranate's scarlet flowers Look brighter in their jetty hair.

They praised my forehead's stainless white;

And when I thirsted, gave a draught From the full clustering cocoa's height, And smiling, blessed me as I quaffed.

Well pleased, the kind return I gave,

And, clasped in their embraces' twine, Felt the soft breeze like Lethe's wave Becalm this beating heart of mine.

Why will my heart so wildly beat?
Say, Seraphs, is my lot too blest,
That thus a fitful, feverish heat

Must rifle me of health and rest?.

Alas! I fear my native snows

A clime too cold, a heart too warmAlternate chills-alternate glowsToo fiercely threat my flower-like form.

The orange-tree has fruit and flowers;
The grenadilla, in its bloom,
Hangs o'er its high, luxuriant bowers,
Like fringes from a Tyrian loom.

When the white coffee-blossoms swell,
The fair moon full, the evening long
I love to hear the warbling bell,
And sun-burnt peasant's wayward

song.

Drive gently on, dark muleteer,
And the light seguidilla frame;
Fain would I listen still, to hear

At every close thy mistress' name.

Adien, fair isle! the waving palm

Is pencilled on thy purest sky; Warm sleeps the bay, the air is balm, And, soothed to languor, scarce a sigh

That heavenly music! what is it I hear? The notes of the harpers ring sweet in mine ear!

And see, soft unfolding those portals of gold,

The King all arrayed in his beauty behold! Oh give me, oh give me, the wings of a dove,

To adore him-be near him- enwrapt with his love;

THE DEEP

THERE's beauty in the deep: The wave is bluer than the sky; And though the lights shine bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow That sparkle in the depths below; The rainbow's tints are only made When on the waters they are laid, And Sun and Moon most sweetly shine Upon the ocean's level brine.

There's beauty in the deep.

There's music in the deep:
It is not in the surf 's rough roar,
Nor in the whispering, shelly shore-
They are but earthly sounds, that tell
How little of the sca-nymph's shell,
That sends its loud, clear note abroad,
Or winds its softness through the flood,
Echoes through groves with coral gay,
And dies, on spongy banks, away.

There's music in the deep.

There's quiet in the deep:

Above, let tides and tempests rave,

And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;
Above, let care and fear contend
With sin and sorrow to the end:
Here, far beneath the tainted foam
That frets above our peaceful home,
We dream in joy, and wake in love,
Nor know the rage that yells above.
There's quiet in the deep.