Enough of tempest—earthquake—has been thine; Enough of grief has dimmed thy sky-ward eye; We come to pour the fragrant oil and wine; We come to bless, and be blest, ere we die. Die? No! We take from thee an angel-wing; We fly—we mount—away from earth we soar; Keep thy gaze upward from the mountain-spring, Wrapt in white mist-robes we move on before. Or if despair thy strong-heart will assail, Beneath the oaks, in the old wind-flower grove, We light to kiss thy shadow, lone and pale. And bid thee turn thy drooping eye above. This our pure mission—babes of memory! Give us thy blessing ere these lives depart; These shadowy forms, all consecrate to thee— That faintly breathe the incense of the heart. We heed no danger in a path like this: A Faith that with the Good was ne’er at war; We know Earth’s sorrows pilot Heaven’s bliss— Keep, then, thy gaze upon the cloud and star. * * * * * [Illustration: Illman & Sons BEAUTY’S RETREAT. Engraved expressly for Graham’s Magazine.] * * * * * BEAUTY’S RETREAT. A LEGEND OF GRANADA. [WITH A STEEL ENGRAVING.] BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. It was the evening of a sultry summer’s day, while the sun was yet hanging suspended, as it were, in a wreath of lustrous, gauzy vapor scarce a hand’s-breadth above the horizon. The skies were perfectly cloudless; and, but for that rich, golden haze which floated in the west about the sloping day-star, there was not a speck of mist to be seen over the whole expanse of the firmament, which, glowing, as it was, with the warm light of that soft southern region, resembled more a vault of exquisitely shadowed gems than the unfathomable depths of ether. All to the westward, the horizon was deluged with a flood of golden glory, too soft to be called intense, yet so vivid that the eye could scarcely brook it; melting as it streamed upward toward the zenith, by imperceptible degrees, into the radiance of the living sapphire; and thence deepening, through the azure tints of the Lapis Lazuli, into the darkest cærulean blue to the eastward, against which rose distinct, glittering with the last reflected sunbeams, the distant summits of the Cordoran mountains. Above these, soaring slowly upward, and momently gathering fresh brilliancy as the sun faded in the west, the full, round moon had already risen, with the evening-star at her side, a diamond spark beside an orient pearl.