Statue-like the heart-appalling

Chillness of that calm despair. From the wave that gives no comfort To the blank sky see her glance, And a glow of kindling triumph Lights her pallid countenance.

25.

"Powers, with whom is no relenting, -Unresenting,-unlamenting,

I bow me to the will divine.

Ended is my course full early,
But I loved, and was loved, dearly,

And Life's fairest lot was mine.

Venus! while I lived, true priestess
Of thy temple I have been,

And I die, a willing victim,

Thine in death, celestial queen!'

26.

With hair flying and robes floating
From the turret, self-devoting,

See! she plunges in the wave,— And, their holy forms receiving, Ocean's God, in triumph heaving,

Bears them onward—is their grave.

Pontus, with the rich spoil laden,
Thrills, his living depths below,
Pouring from his urn exhaustless

Streams that will not cease to flow.

A.

Cassandra.

THIS Poem has been marked by Madame de Stael as one of those most characteristic of Schiller's genius,—in which— to use her own admirable language-“ il a su montrer, sous une forme toute poëtique, une grande idée morale: c'est que le veritable génie, celui du sentiment, est victime de lui-mêne, quand il ne serait pas des autres."

1.

Joy in Troja's courts abounded
Ere the lofty ramparts fell;
Hymns of jubilee resounded

From the golden-chorded shell.
Now from fields of strife and slaughter
Rests at peace each valiant head,
While to Priam's fairest daughter
Peleus' godlike son must wed.

2.

There, bedeck'd with boughs of laurel,
Where the column'd fanes extend,
Troop on troop, in bright apparel,
To the Thymbrian's altar bend.
Through the streets the Bacchic madness
Rushing comes with hollow swell,
And on thoughts of silent sadness
One alone is left to dwell.

3.

Joyless most where joy exceeded,
Did Cassandra's footsteps rove,
Lonely, desolate, unheeded,

Through Apollo's laurel grove.
Mid the forest depths slow winding
Wander'd the prophetic maid,
And, her sacred locks unbinding,
Flung to earth the mystic braid.

4.

"Joy forgotten-bliss forsaken-
Each exulting bosom shares ;
And the sires new hopes awaken,
And glad pomp the sister wears.
I alone must inly sorrow,

Whom the sweet illusions fly,
Who behold the fatal morrow,
Wing'd with ruin, hover nigh.

5.

"Lo, a torch! I see it flaring-
Not, alas in Hymen's hand-
In the clouds behold it glaring-
But 'tis not an altar-brand.

Lo! the festal board they're spreading;
But my full foreboding mind
Marks the fateful footsteps treading
Of the gloomy god behind.

6.

"And they call my moaning madnessAnd they mock my bosom's smart : Lonely then, in silent sadness,

Let me wear my burthen'd heart.
By the happy shunn'd, discarded,
Scorn of pleasure's frolic ring,
Heavy falls thy lot awarded,
Pythian god!-remorseless king!

7.

"Wherefore hath thy fatal kindness
My awaken'd sense decreed,

In this land of utter blindness
Thy dark oracles to read?
Visual sense too perfect lending,
Why withhold the warding power?
It must fall-the doom impending-
Must draw on-the dreaded hour.

8.

"Wherefore lift the veil, where terror Darkly hovering threats our breath? Life itself is nought but error,

And to know-alas! is death.

Hide, oh hide fate's dreary portal!

Make mine eyes from blood-stain free!

'Tis a fearful thing, the mortal

Vessel of thy truth to be.

9.

66

'My blest ignorance restore me,

And the joys that once were mine!
Ne'er came strains of gladness o'er me
Since my voice hath echo'd thine.
Thou, the thankless future giving,
Didst the present render vain;
Vain the hope, the bliss of living-
Take thy false gift back again!

10.

"With the bridal chaplet never
Might my perfum'd locks be crown'd,
Since thy servant I, for ever,

At the altar's foot was bound.
All youth's spring-tide sorrow-shaken,
Life consum'd in ceaseless smart,
Each rude shock by Troy partaken
Smote on my presaging heart.

11.

"Treading light youth's sportive measures, Others wake to life and love

All who shar'd my childhood's pleasures.
I can only anguish prove!
Spring, that clothes the earth in glory,
Brings no rapture to my mind.
Who that reads life's coming story
Aught of bliss in life can find?