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Both our spirits to one level;
 And I turned from hill and lea
And the summer-sun's green revel,
 To your eyes, that could not see.

Now Christ bless you with the one light
 Which goes shining night and day!
May the flowers which grow in sunlight
 Shed the fragrance in your way!
Is it not right to remember
 All your kindness, friend of mine,—
When we two sate in the chamber,
 And the poets poured us wine?

So, to come back to the drinking
 Of this Cyprus!—it is well—
But those memories, to my thinking,
 Make a better œnomel!
And whoever be the speaker
 None can murmur with a sigh,—
That, in drinking from that beaker,
 I am sipping like a fly!

The Romance of the Swan's Nest.

"So the dreams depart,
So the fading phantoms flee,
And the sharp reality
Now must act its part."
Westwood's "Beads from a Rosary."

 Little Ellie sits alone
'Mid the beeches of a meadow,
 By a stream-side, on the grass:
 And the trees are showering down
Doubles of their leaves in shadow,
 On her shining hair and face.