O saw ye not fair Ines? She’s gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest; She took our daylight with her, The smiles that we love best, With morning blushes on her cheek, And pearls upon her breast. O turn again, fair Ines, Before the fall of night, For fear the moon should shine alone, And stars unrivalltd bright; And blessed will the lover be That walks beneath their light, And breathes the love against thy cheek I dare not even write! Would I had been, fair Ines, That gallant cavalier, Who rode so gaily by thy side, And whisper’d thee so near! Were there no bonny dames at home Or no true lovers here, That he should cross the seas to win The dearest of the dear? I saw thee, lovely Ines, Descend along the shore, With bands of noble gentlemen, And banners waved before; And gentle youth and maidens gay, And snowy plumes they wore; It would have been a beauteous dream, If it had been no more! Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song, With music waiting on her steps, And shootings of the throng; But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music’s wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you’ve loved so long. Farewell, farewell, fair Ines, That vessel never bore So fair a lady on its deck, Nor danced so light before,— Alas for pleasure on the sea, And sorrow on the shorel The smile that blest one lover’s heart Has broken many more! “The Haunted House,” by the same author, is one of the truest poems ever written,—one of the truest, one of the most unexceptionable, one of the most thoroughly artistic, both in its theme and in its execution. It is, moreover, powerfully ideal—imaginative. I regret that its length renders it unsuitable for the purposes of this lecture. In place of it permit me to offer the universally appreciated “Bridge of Sighs”:—