And then must come the honey moon,
  Ah me! that sets me deeply sighing,
You leaning on my heart, whose tune,
  To yours is still in love replying.

MONTICELLO.

’Tis true that when the god-like die,
  Their glorious monument
Are earth’s great mountains and the sky,
  Their names with all things blent—­
But, then, some storied heap should show
The grave of worth entombed below.

’Tis true, the pilgrim wandering slow,
  O’er sad Achaia’s plain,
Will feel his bosom warmly glow,
  And memory fire his brain—­
Achilles’ strength—­and Homer’s song
Across his breast will roll along.

But, had the Grecian chisel wrought,
  No pile above their graves,
Say, could ye point out, save in thought,
  Their own, from tombs of slaves? 
A crumbling column, only shows
Where Greece’s mighty dead repose.

But tombs of men, more wise, more free,
  Amid a brighter day,
Are like the mounds ye scarcely see,
  And note not by the way. 
No Mausoleums climb the skies,
To tell where greater Glory lies.

YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU LOVED ME.

When summer’s rosy twilight fell,
Upon yon river’s gentle swell,
Leading the spirit by its song,
As through the land it sweeps along;

We watched the stars, those worlds of love,
That swim yon azure seas above—­
We heard each other’s heart-pulse beat,
In unison divinely sweet.

Your virgin hand was laid in mine,
I gazed into your spirit’s shrine: 
We lost the sense of stars and earth,
And of the dancing waters’ mirth: 

We only saw each other then;
We look’d as if no more again,
And our tumultuous hearts should die,
In that wild dream of ecstasy.

I clasped you to my bosom there,
I played with your dishevell’d hair;
And then the thoughts which long had slept
Within us, waken’d; and we wept.

We wept to think of what had past—­
The doubt—­the trial—­joy at last—­
We wept to think of mournful fears—­
We wept to hail the future years.

I ceased to shed such happy tears,
I whisper’d comfort in your ears,
I press’d you closer to my heart,
Till mine no more could throb apart.

But then we smiled, we laughed to feel
The heaven which deep love can reveal;
We laughed that Love had ever bound,
His golden bands our souls around!

Do you not know the boundless bliss
Which follows true love’s lightning kiss;
For, in that hour with heaven above,
Your cheeks, your mouth received my love.

And when that deep, blest trance was o’er,
And we could clasp and kiss no more;
Love’s dear confessions had been made,
And we no more could be afraid;

When Angels’ pens had writ the vow
Which nothing can dissever now;
Our hearts return’d to Nature’s face,
To planets, and the waters’ race.