as 
[Nov. 1, 
ORIGINAL POETRY. : 
—=>——— 
_.... .ALFWINA'S DREAM. 
A rejected Episode from an unpublished 
: Poem. 
«« Flowers are but weeds when growing out of place.” 
Mazims of Horticulture. 
Bur whereis fair Alfwina? Heeds not she 
The parting hero-in his gallant trim ? 
The pride of Saxon chivalry! Heaves her 
heart 
No farewell sigh—no interceding prayer 
Propitiative? Does no unconscious glance 
From the moist beamings of her azure eye 
Pursue the lessening pageant, till it fades 
Dim in the far horizon? 
: On her couch 
Unconscious of the morning’s busy scene) 
The beauteous dame reposes—heaven-de- 
tain’d, 
As in a trance-like slumber, and inhales 
For so the pitying angel minister’d— 
n visionary revelation sent,) 
Long-lost tranquillity and bosom’d joy. 
Upon a bed of thorns she seein’d to view 
(As in a mirror by reflection limn’d) 
Her own fair form, and, kneeling by her side, 
A suppliant semblance of heroic worth, 
Over whose head seven mingling crowns 
impend, 
With verdant wreath entwin’d. 
In act he seem’d 
Claiming protection from a ruffian throng 
an incubus or stygian fiend more fell), 
at with uplifted brand, and dirk athirst, 
Rush on their purpos’d victim ;—whea 
_ behold 
Upon that beauteous brow, that else had bent 
With powerless sympathy, the orient wreath 
Of power appear’d, self-bound, and in her 
hand 
A golden cup, in which fast-falling tears 
From her fair eyes’ she caught, and caught 
beside 
(The crystal mingling with carnation pure!) 
Some precious heart-drops, from a bosom- 
wound 
Then first reveal’d, distilling. To that form 
Of suppliant heroism, the mingled cup 
Gave that fair phantom strait; who, there- 
with arm’d, 
As with some talisman of magic power, 
-Turn’d on the fiend-like throng, and o’er 
them threw ; 
The precious drops, whose instant charm 
‘was such 
- That, with the holy ichor touch’d, they fled, 
Howling; and on the suppliant’s head, 
~~. ‘descend ; 
Concentric, those seven coronals, with song 
Forth from their living circlesheard distinct, 
« Glory to: Albion !—to the Saxon name 
Freedom’s, eternal joy! The enanguish’d 
drops: : fi 
From’ the pure bosom have not flow’d in 
woevain— 
Nor, pot unpity’d'flow’d.”- 
we 
As ceas’d the.songs.{« 
Lo! the late thorny couch appear’d to glow 
One bed of roseate bloom, whose ‘fragrant’ 
breath TTA ae 
Reaching the function of the dreamer’ssense, 
She wak’d—or seem’d ‘to wakefor ‘over- 
head S32 one 
Hovering in brighter vision, she beheld 
A form of radiant beauty ;—not of earth, 
Or human lineament; and yet not;such.. 
Asto the legends of her northern faith 
Pertain’d, in guise or attribute ; but'wing’d. 
With plumage of the rainbow’s vivid hues, 
In rear of summer showers, when’ heaven, 
appeas’d, : 
Weeps fragrance, and the joyous floreag: 
smiles : 
Beneath her humid footsteps. Fair it seem’d 
(That hovering form) and of transparent 
brow, er 
Of more than feminine softness ; yet of shape 
Not sexual, but of self-efficient mould, © 
Inherent of all joy—save what it drew 
From sympathy with alien sufferance— 
Distilling tears to raptures. 
*« Mourn no more, 
Pure victim of a sorrow well-sustain’d,” 
Exclaim’d the glorious vision, “ tis per- 
form’d— 
The destin’d function, and the barbless dart 
From the heal’d bosom parts.’” And at the 
word, : 
Touch’d by that gentle hand, an arrowy. 
shaft 
From her fair breast came pangless; while, 
distill’d 1s 
From the seraphic eye, a balmy tear 
Fell on the wound—thro’ every thrilling vein 
Shedding its grateful influence. With a 
smile 
Heart-sprung, that o’er the beaming features 
spreads 
In heavenly emanation (foretaste sweet 
Of virtue’s pure beatitude!) she rose, _ 
To hear, to feel, the vision all fulfill’d— 
For Anglia’s martial bands, in firm array, 
By Regnier and the brave Deirian led, 
Had march’d to place the exile on his throne, 
And tame the fierce Northumbrian’s jealous 
pride. 
Peibs 
REPLY TO A POEM OF LORD VAUX, . 
«*] loath that I have lov’d,” &c. 
See Ellis's: Collection. 
I vo not loath that I have-lov’d, ~ 
Though years come stealing ons” 
Or that the sweetest joys I prov’dj ” « 
Ere time of joy was gone. (~ 
I do not loath that I have'lov’d, "0° - 
Or that my love was fair ;*"’ ebaly st 
For Jove’s return to me hath prov’d ~~ 
The balm of every caress 
4 
How 
