MONTHLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE. 303 



the Cities of the Plain let us take the following for feeling, pathos, beau- 

 tiful imagery, and emphatic expression : 



" The vales were silent saving when the low 

 Of roaming herds along their sides would float ; 

 Or rose the whisper from the aspen bough, 

 Like music answering to the distant note 

 Of love, that murmur'd in the cushet's throat, 

 Amid the stirless groves of olive wood : 

 All nature seemed becalm'd the mountain goat 

 Upon the topmost gilded fragment stood 

 In lazy stillness, nor cropped his scented food. 



The bees no more were busy ; and the blue 

 And scarlet bells, and flowers of many dies, 

 That from the sward, in wild profusion, threw 

 Their perfumes forth, appeared the only eyes 

 Whose eloquence adorned the azure skies 

 Gazing, like spirits, up to Nature's shrine ! 

 There was abroad that calm which beautifies 

 The earthliest object, as the last sunshine 

 Seemed to foretel the step of presence more divine. 



A holy slumber a deep sense of awe 

 Was brooding every where on tree and flower : 

 And every thing the dreamy spirit saw 

 Combined to link that still the solemn hour 

 With some approaching and unearthly power 

 Some formless visitant, whose stealthy tread 

 Drew near the silence of the shadowy bower 

 Whose mystic influence had already wed 

 The soul to thoughts beyond the regions of the dead. 



So felt, or seemed to feel, that man who sate 

 Beneath the fig-tree's shadow, and gave o'er 

 His soul to wonder ; for the hand of fate 

 Had parted him from all he loved of yore ; 

 Stamping him with her mystic seal, far more 

 Than others ; and, a solitary man 

 Among the multitude, he watched the shore 

 Of sunset regions, while the big tears ran 

 From fountains woke to weeping, by the scenes they scan. 



Why sorrowful, why weeping ? far and wide 

 The lawns were busy with the stir of life : 

 Beneath the marble archway flowed a tide 

 Of restless beings, bent on boisterous strife 

 In joy's arena ; all the air was rife 

 With songs of revelry, and cheerful sound 

 Of merry-making, as the maid and wife 

 In the wild eastern dance would lightly bound, 

 With clear shrill laughter, to the music streaming round. 



Yea, fancy might have dream 'd of lands on high, 

 Instead of earthly regions, as along 

 That plain all sights most lovely met the eye ! 

 The sultry breeze was burened with the song. 

 Whose notes its wings delighted to prolong ; 



