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THE GOLDEN VIOLET.
Holy and sweet, as its music were given
Less from a vision of earth than of heaven.
THE HAUNTED LAKE:
THE IRISH MINSTREL’S LEGEND.
Rose up the young moon; back she flung
The veil of clouds that o'er her hung:
Thus would fair maiden fling aside
Her bright curls in her golden pride;
On pass'd she through the sky of blue,
Lovelier as she pass'd it grew;
At last her gentle smiles awake
The silence of the azure lake.
Lighted to silver, waves arise,
As conscious of her radiant eyes.
