THE WANDERER.

I cast my anchor nowhere (the waves whirled

My anchor from me); East and West are one To me; against no winds are my sails furled; -Merely my planet anchors to the Sun.

A

THE FOUNTAIN.

(AN INTRODUCTION TO THE SONNETS.)

Hush, let the fountain murmur dim
Melodious secrets; stír no limb,

But lie along the marge and wait,
Till deep and pregnant as with fate,
Fine as a star-beam, crystal-clear,

Each ripple grows upon the ear.
This is that fountain seldom seen
By mortal wanderer,-Hippocrene,
Where the virgins three times three,
Thy singing brood, Mnemosyne,
Loosen'd the girdle, and with grave
Pure joy their faultless bodies gave
To sacred pleasure of the wave.
Listen! the lapsing waters tell
The urgence uncontrollable