In fond delusion once I left thy side; Unto the wide world's end I fain would fare, To see if I might find Love anywhere, And lovingly embrace Love as a bride. Love sought I in all paths, at every gate; Oft and again outstretching suppliant palms, I begged in vain of Love the slightest alms, But the world laughed and offered me cold hate. Forever I aspired towards Love, forever Towards Love, and ne'ertheless I found Love never,-- And sick at heart, homeward my steps did move. And lo! thou comest forth to welcome me; And that which in thy swimming eyes I see, That is the precious, the long-looked-for Love. THE SPHINX. This is the old enchanted wood, Sweet lime trees scent the wind; The glamor of the moon has cast A spell upon my mind. Onward I walk, and as I walk-- Hark to that high, soft strain! That is the nightingale, she sings, Of love and of love's pain. She sings of love and of love's pain, Of laughter and of tears. So plaintive her carol, so joyous her sobs, I dream of forgotten years. Onward I walk, and as I walk, There stands before mine eyes A castle proud on an open lawn, Whose gables high uprise. With casements closed, and everywhere Sad silence in court and halls, It seemed as though mute death abode Within those barren walls. Before the doorway crouched a sphinx, Half horror and half grace; With a lion's body, a lion's claws, And a woman's breast and face. A woman fair! The marble glance Spake wild desire and guile. The silent lips were proudly curled In a confident, glad smile. The nightingale, she sang so sweet, I yielded to her tone. I touched, I kissed the lovely face, And lo, I was undone! The marble image stirred with life, The stone began to move; She drank my fiery kisses' glow With panting thirsty love. She well nigh drank my breath away; And, lustful still for more, Embraced me, and my shrinking flesh With lion claws she tore. Oh, rapturous martyrdom! ravishing pain! Oh, infinite anguish and bliss! With her horrible talons she wounded me, While she thrilled my soul with a kiss. The nightingale sang: "Oh beautiful sphinx. Oh love! what meaneth this? That thou minglest still the pangs of death With thy most peculiar bliss? Thou beautiful Sphinx, oh solve for me This riddle of joy and tears! I have pondered it over again and again, How many thousand years!" DONNA CLARA. In the evening through her garden Wanders the Alcalde's daughter; Festal sounds of drum and trumpet Ring out hither from the castle. "I am weary of the dances, Honeyed words of adulation From the knights who still compare me To the sun,--with dainty phrases. "Yes, of all things I am weary, Since I first beheld by moonlight, Him my cavalier, whose zither Nightly draws me to my casement.