The wandering star.

'Twas a sweet time for Nesace - for there

Her world lay lolling on the golden air,

Near four bright suns - a temporary rest

An oasis in desert of the blest.

Away - away - 'mid seas of rays that roll

Empyrean splendor o'er th' unchained soul

The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense)

Can struggle to its destin'd eminence

To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode,

And late to ours, the favour'd one of God

But, now, the ruler of an anchor'd realm,

She throws aside the sceptre - leaves the helm,

And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns,

Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs.

Now happiest, loveliest in you lovely Earth,

Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth,

(Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star,

Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar,

It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt)

She look'd into Infinity - and knelt.

Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled

Fit emblems of the model of her world

Seen but in beauty - not impeding sight

Of other beauty glittering thro' the light

A wreath that twined each starry form around,

And all the opal'd air in color bound.

All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed

Of flowers: of lilies such as rear'd the head

On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang

So eagerly around about to hang

Upon the flying footsteps of - deep pride

Of her who lov'd a mortal - and so died.

The Sephalica, budding with young bees,

Uprear'd its purple stem around her knees:

And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd

Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd

All other loveliness: its honied dew

(The fabled nectar that the heathen knew)

Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven,