Upon the silver beach the undines dance With interlinking arms and flying hair; Like polished marble gleam their limbs left bare; Upon their virgin rites pale moonbeams glance. Softer the music! for their foam-bright feet Print not the moist floor where they trip their round: Affrighted they will scatter at a sound, Leap in their cool sea-chambers, nimbly fleet, And we shall doubt that we have ever seen, While our sane eyes behold stray wreaths of mist, Shot with faint colors by the moon-rays kissed, Floating snow-soft, snow-white, where these had been. Already, look! the wave-washed sands are bare, And mocking laughter ripples through the air. VI. Divided 'twixt the dream-world and the real, We heard the waxing passion of the song Soar as to scale the heavens on pinions strong. Amidst the long-reverberant thunder-peal, Against the rain-blurred square of light, the head Of the pale poet at the lyric keys Stood boldly cut, absorbed in reveries, While over it keen-bladed lightnings played. "Rage on, wild storm!" the music seemed to sing: "Not all the thunders of thy wrath can move The soul that's dedicate to worshipping Eternal Beauty, everlasting Love." No more! the song was ended, and behold, A rainbow trembling on a sky of gold! EPILOGUE. Forth in the sunlit, rain-bathed air we stepped, Sweet with the dripping grass and flowering vine, And saw through irised clouds the pale sun shine. Back o'er the hills the rain-mist slowly crept Like a transparent curtain's silvery sheen; And fronting us the painted bow was arched, Whereunder the majestic cloud-shapes marched: In the wet, yellow light the dazzling green Of lawn and bush and tree seemed stained with blue. Our hearts o'erflowed with peace. With smiles we spake Of partings in the past, of courage new, Of high achievement, of the dreams that make A wonder and a glory of our days, And all life's music but a hymn of praise. EMMA LAZARUS. UNWRITTEN LITERATURE OF THE CAUCASIAN MOUNTAINEERS. CONCLUDING PAPER.