* * * * * COMMUNION OF THE SEA AND SKY. BY ELVIRA JONES. It was a night whose starry ray E’en matched the brilliant hue of day, A night replete with gifts of June— A flowery earth and silver moon. Sleep softly waved her opiate rod, And stilled all things on earth’s green sod. The ocean slept, so gently breathing, Scarce I marked its bosom’s heaving. In em’rald couch the flow’rs reposed, The violet’s azure eye was closed; The balmy, odor-laden air Scarce stirred beneath its burden rare, Though oft a slumbering breeze would wake, And on its harp sweet music make; The list’ning waves would catch the lay, With silver lutes so sweet they’d play That e’en the peerless nightingale, Warbling within some quiet vale, Would cease his matchless melody, To list, and dare no rivalry. At last a swifter breeze did come Down from its far off heavenly home; Bright dew-drops on its wings it bore, The fairest gems of midnight’s store; O’er all the earth like stars they lie, As if to imitate the sky; Brighter than monarch’s sparkling gem Was the lowly flow’ret’s diadem. Methought indeed ’twas _love’s_ own hour— He could not choose a fairer bower— A scene so still, so void of strife, So stirless, yet replete with life. A lily by a rose-bud stood, Partaking of its honey food, With tender and confiding grace They waved to each a fond embrace. A star in the far azure sky Heard a murm’ring streamlet’s sigh, His image in her bosom still He saw, and blessed the gentle rill. A zephyr sought the rose’s bower, To serenade the lovely flower, Yet all unlike the constant star, He sees the streamlet from afar. For her forsakes his tender rose, To her his love would fain disclose; She trembled at his light caress, _Yet kept the image in her breast_. Sudden a voice that came along, As softly as a fairy’s song, Or like the wind-harp’s faintest sigh, That scarcely lives ere it doth die, Folded the pinions of my thought, And deep and mute attention brought— ’Twas the voice of the far off sky Whisp’ring its scarce heard melody To its kindred sea, whose list’ning waves Scarce stirred within their azure caves. “Ocean, sleepest thou thy nightly rest? Or with thy weight of stars so prest, Thou canst not hear my lay of love, My wooing whispers from above? Thy brilliant burden I will lift, Awhile withdraw my nightly gift; My graceful clouds shall intervene, No more thy brilliant load is seen. Now listen to my nightly song, My voice unheard to mortal throng.