And Night with all her splendours pale Did walk before me on the deep, The stars looked through her azure veil, And hand in hand with her went Sleep. Beyond the hills, into the night My boat went drifting like the wind, The stars paled round us, and the light Died on our pathway far behind.

And cloudy shapes with rippling hair That shaded eyes of dreamy calm, Formed and dissolved into the air Which laved my brow with waves of balm.

Dusk arms upreaching from the sea, And shadow-faces, seen and gone, Toward an isle did beckon me, Beyond the farthest gates of dawn.

We drew towards that lonely shore, With still and measured motion slow, I saw the hills lift evermore Their massive foreheads crowned with snow, And underneath, like moonlight fair, I saw a hundred fathoms deep, The crystal columns light as air That undergird the Isle of Sleep.

And spire and dome and architrave, And pictured window's rainbow gleams Upshone from out the charmed wave, Afloat upon a sea of dreams. The sea-moss wove her braided locks Along the beach in chains afar, And lilies smiled among the rocks, Peerless and perfect as a star.

A wood of asphodel below Uprose as still and sweet as death, And gliding shapes moved to and fro,-- I watched them with suspended breath.

Lost loved ones met and clasped me here; I looked into their eyes serene, They spake to me, and I did hear As I were walking in a dream.

But even then a wind arose That swept the morning mists away, And showed, unfolding like a rose, The bright flower of the perfect day: And fading--faded like a cloud, The hands I clasped, like wreaths of smoke, While chanticleer crowed shrill and loud, And wan and 'wildered I awoke.

THE BATTLE AUTUMN OF 1862.

Under the orchard boughs, That drop red leaves like coals into the grass. The golden arrows of the sunset fall; And on the vine-hung wall Great purple clusters in delicious drowse, Beakers of chrysolite and amethyst, Yet by the sun unkissed, Lean down to all the wooing lips that pass, Brimful of red, red wine Sweet as brown peasants glean along the castled Rhine

All sights and sounds are of the Autumn weather; The urchin rock'ng in the trees Shakes silver laughter with the apples down,-- And wading to the knees Among the stubble and the husks so brown, The oxen keeping every patient step together, Bring in the creaking wain, High-piled with yellow maize and sheaves of rustling grain.

While in the mill, with ceaseless whirr and drone, With moss and lichens to the roof o'ergrown An undertone to every other sound, The blind old horse goes round

Gathered along the farm-house eaves In noisy congress, see the swallows sit, Or whirling in mid air like autumn leaves, In airy wheels they flit. Bright rovers of all summer skies, I follow them with wistful eyes To-morrow's sunset they will be A thousand leagues by land and sea Beyond this wintry hemisphere Heaven gathers round their joyous wings The sunlight of perpetual springs, Soft airs and fragrant blossomings Through all the glad round year.