The sympathies of twin existence ran So warm in both, their being grew like one, Though she was feeble woman; he, strong man. Hand locked in hand, they haunted hill and plain, Passing in peace their simple innocent lives, Both singing, so it seemed, the same refrain. Or angling in the stream, or through the groves Hunting the deer, they owned one only rule— One gentle rule, and that was rosy Love’s. One day—the air was swooning with the heat— The maiden sought the border of a stream And stood and laved and cooled her burning feet. The loving water breathed an amorous tale; The maiden gave herself to its embrace, And in its passionate clasp grew deathly pale. Narcissos was afar: he could not hear His sister’s piteous murmur of his name: Alas! that poor Narcissos was not near! He came at night, and on the river’s shore Beheld her garments; but her faultless form, Save in his maniac dreams, he saw no more! And from that night, and from that hour, he lay, Swelling the stream with little brooks of tears, Sighing his soul away day after day. And gazing in its depths in search of her, He saw _his_ image, which was so like _hers_, He grew to be his own sad worshiper. The gods, who saw him act this piteous part, Wept at the sight, and made his pallid form A snowy blossom with a crimson heart. There, by the stream, it watches, hour on hour, Love mourning by the tomb of what it loved, More like a mortal than a simple flower. * * * * * TO ARCTURUS. BY SARAH HELEN WHITMAN. ——_Nec morti esse locum, sed viva volare_ _Sideris in numerum atque alto succedere cælo._ VIRGIL, GEOR. IV. “STAR of resplendent front!” thy glorious eye Again shines out from yonder sapphire sky, Piercing the blue depths of the vernal night With opal shafts and flames of rubient light; Till the pale Serpent gliding round thy path Hides in dim shades his ineffectual wrath, Pining with envy at thy dazzling ray, Deep-hued and damasked like the orb of day When in the purple west he slowly sinks away. Hast thou not stooped from heaven, fair star, to be Through Night’s wide, pathless realm of phantasie So near—so bright—so glorious—that I seem To lie entranced as in some wondrous dream, All earthly joys forgot—all earthly fear Purged in the light of thy resplendent sphere:— Gazing upon thee till thy flaming eye Dilates and kindles through the stormy sky, While, in its depths withdrawn, far, far away, I see the dawn of a diviner day, And hear celestial harmonies that come Burdened with love from thine elysian home.