A TWILIGHT DREAM.

AN ALLEGORY.

"In voluptatis regno virtus non potest consistere."-CICERO.

I LAY beneath the shade of spreading trees

In silence and in solitude: the sun

Cast his last smile along the ocean's cheek,
And hasten'd 'neath the wave to seek the couch
Of timid Twilight, who from his embrace
Rush'd, with the blushes still upon her brow,
To seek a shelter in the cloudless skies.

And, having heard her tale, the heav'ns themselves
Blush'd still more deeply at their sun's rude acts.
The birds sang farewell carols to the day,

And sought their mossy pillows. The bright streams
Flow'd calmly by, as moments well employ'd,
And scarcely stirr'd the reeds which, in their course,
Sprang verdantly and wild. The winds were hush'd,
And could not shake the dew from violets,
Whose tender forms hung fondly o'er the stream,
And whose blue eyes seem'd gazing on each wave
That lazily pursued its silent course
Beneath the light of autumn's dying smile.
I gaz'd on nature's visage with delight
Until my eyes grew languid at the view
Of her mute beauties; and my soul resign'd
Its conquer'd energies to powerful sleep.
Two forms appear'd before me in a dream,
And both were beautiful; but, Oh! they were
Dissimilar as twilight and the noon.
The one was habited in spotless white:
A loose and flowing robe was thrown across
The meek and quiet beauties of her form;
Her face alone was open to the sight,
And that was mild and placid as the stream
That near her calmly slumber'd. On her brow
Were mingled shades of tenderness and grace,
And truth and feeling, and kind heartedness.
She moved along, majestic as the swan,
Over a tranquil river. Then I turn'd
To gaze upon the other, who advanc'd,
Clad in a sun-bright garb which barely reach'd
Her well-formed ancle, and through which her limbs,
Of nature's fine proportions, dimly shone,
Like lilies thro' a thinly-lattic'd bow'r
When daylight's soft and parting glances cast
A pale red tinge upon them; her brown hair
Was bound with living roses, which were torn
From the dark forehead of an Arab youth
Who once had follow'd her, and died with grief
That he could not obtain her. Her blue eye
Was dark as night, but sparkled with the fire
That shines not in the temple of true love :
And in her hand she bore a golden wand,
Surmounted by a diamond, so bright
That all who gaz'd on it with earnest eyes
Were dazzled by the lustre of the gem.
The first, in silence, beckon'd me to follow;

But I was young, and could not find delight
In calm and loveless eyes. The other plac'd
Before mine eyes her light and glitt'ring wand,
And instantly I felt my brain turn round;
Impell'd by passion's whirlwind,-I had fall'n,
But that her arms, white as unspotted snow,
Sustain'd my weight. She strained me to her breast,
And, O! I felt her heart against mine own
Throb with voluptuous transport and delight.
She spoke; and then my lost, lost soul drank in
The music of her words; and, like the swan,
Seem'd to die with it." I will follow thee,"
I cried, "where'er thou rov'st!"-She led the way
And, as I wander'd where the river's banks
Sloped gently to the tide, I look'd around
And saw the form that I had left

Frowning full on me; whilst a crystal tear
Trembled beneath her eyelid, and then fell
(Like dew from heav'n) upon a rose's breast.
But I could not recede. My lovely guide
Still lur'd me onward thro' enchanting vales
And smiling fields, which yet retain'd the bloom
Of vanish'd summer. And we came at last,
With panting bosoms, to an ancient wood
(Like that of Thessaly, which th' exil'd bard
Has by his verse immortaliz'd"); for there
A foaming river dash'd resistless on,

And many smaller streams rush'd o'er their banks
To join their ancient sire. We journey'd still,
Until the sound of falling waters died

In the still lap of distance. I was so hush'd
That, as we onward trod, I heard no sound
Except the beating of my own wild heart.
The solitude and beauty of the place
Awoke desire within me, and I rush'd
To clasp my fair conductress, but she fled;
And, with her bland and fascinating smile,

Still lured me forward. Then, at length, we reach'd
The outskirts of the forest; where a voice,

In accents of entreaty, cried "Return!"

The sound of that sweet voice fell on my heart,
And died there;-for again all sounds repos'd.

My resolution waver'd; and a dread

Came like the chill of death across my soul.

I turn'd to fly; but the fair one came

And plac'd once more her wand before mine eyes:

My senses fled; and when, at length, I woke

To reason and perception, I beheld

A scene of lonely horror. Not a tree,

Nor bush, nor flow'r, nor solitary shrub
Gave life or verdure to this wilderness,

Through which a waste of blood-red waters flow'd,
And ghastly figures stalk'd across my path,
Devouring human hearts. My soul grew sick.
1 strove to free myself from her strong grasp,
But strength had left me; and she bore me on

* Est nemus Hæmoniæ, prærupta quod undique claudit Silva vocant Tempe: per quæ Penêus ab imo Effusus Pindo spumosis volvitur undis.

OVIDII METAMORPH. Lib. 1.

Until we gain'd a steep and dangerous rock,
Up which she sprang and dragg'd me like a weed
Which some rude torrent hurries to its fall.
We reach'd the summit, which impervious clouds
Envelop'd with the majesty of night.

No objects to the eye were visible;

But, Oh! in that brief moment my dark soul
Gaz'd from the lonely precipice, and saw
A scene of horror, solitude and death.

I stood a while in darkness and in dread,
When suddenly the clouds dispers'd to nought,
And, where I turn'd me, desolation sat
And frown'd o'er all in sullen loneliness.
"Here must our journey end,” with alter'd voice
Cried my conductress, and now turn and view
The star which thou hast followed." I obey'd:
Her features then had undergone a change
As awful as the scenery; and her eyes
Were deeply sunk, but still retain'd some fire;
Yet not of love, and languishment, and bliss,

As they were wont: no! Brooding vengeance cast
From those pale eyes death's lightning on my soul.

I shriek'd with terror. "Fool!" she cried, "thou add'st Another reptile to the endless list

Of my lone victims. Thousands have pursu'd

My steps that lead to gloom and death. But know,
That since the sun first cast his brilliant rays

To light a world as pleasureless as vain,

None have obtain'd me yet. And thou, a slave,
A low, ambitious mortal would'st aspire

To win the goddess, PLEASURE, to thine arms.

Look down, proud youth! the stream that glides below
Has gain'd its waters from my victims' blood;
And thine must add another to its waves.
See'st thou yon Dæmon sitting 'neath the rock
With folded arms? He now awaits thy heart
To make his rude insatiate repast.

Thy time is come." She ceas'd, and pluck'd a thorn
From out the roses which adorn'd her brow,

(For Pleasure's roses bear a poison'd one,)

Then thrust it in my side, and hurl'd me from
The dreadful precipice. Against a crag
That jutted out below I should have fall'n,
But felt myself supported by an arm

Of kindness and of power. I turn'd and saw
The silent form whose warning I had scorn'd.
She wore the same mild smile and placid look,
And ev'ry feature bore th' external stamp
Of real, true, and fix'd ́internal worth.
"Thou hast despis'd my counsels, mortal youth,"
She said aloud, "but I can save thee still."
Dangers surround thee here at every step;
But lean on me, and thou may'st brave them all.",
She led me over sharp projecting rocks,
Which mortal feet had never trod before,
Until we came to where a river cast

Its troubled waters in the stony laps

Of far outstretching crags.-" Now follow me!"
She cried, and with a sylph-like airiness
Straight glided in the current. I obey'd;
And, like a blest protecting Deity,

She buoy'd me safely till we gain'd the shore.