She lived on to see the roses Of another summer wane, But the light of reason never Shone in her sweet eyes again. Once, where blue and sparkling waters Through a verdant forest run, And the green boughs kiss the current, Wandered I at set of sun. Twilight, as a silver shadow, O’er the softened landscape lay, When amid a rambling village Paused I in my wandering way: Plain and gray the church before me In the quiet grave-yard stood, And the woodman’s axe resounded Faintly from the neighboring wood. Through the low, half-open wicket, Slightly worn, a pathway led— Silently I paced its windings, Till I stood among the dead. Passing by the grave memorials Of departed worth and fame, Long I paused before a record That no pomp of words could claim. Simple was the slab, and lowly, Shaded by a jessamine, And the single name recorded, Plainly writ, was “Madeline.” But beneath it, through the clusters Of the jessamine, I read “Spes,” engraved in bolder letters— This was all the marble said. ----- [3] A detail of the incident related in the poem may be found among the records of the Revolutionary War. * * * * * MOORISH MEMORIES. (SUGGESTED BY A TILE FROM THE ALHAMBRA—THE GIFT OF THOMAS H. HYATT, ESQ., LATE CONSUL-GENERAL TO THE BARBARY STATES.) BY WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER. An hour of precious romance I owe, my friend, to thee, And on the wings of Fancy my spirit crossed the sea; The same transporting magic did to thy gift belong That sparkled in Aladdin’s Lamp, old theme of Eastern song! An Andalusian summer clad earth in brightest guise— Gave dark green to the foliage, deep azure to the skies, And sternly mountain-barriers up reared their crests of snow, While palace-spire and minaret flashed at their feet below. Approached by winding avenues, Grenada lay in sight— Gay pleasure-grounds and gardens basked in the dazzling light; To groves of palm and cypress flocked birds of plumage rare, And happy genii were afloat upon enchanted air. Throned on a height, commanding the Darro’s vale of flowers, I saw the red Alhambra’s tall battlements and towers; Oh! would that mine were language to paint its pictured walls, Its colonnades and court-yards, its galleries and halls.