characteristic love of "leafy luxuries," has insisted rather on the heart-gladdening site of "Venus' Church" than on its architectural decorations—his description is summery, yet "mild as the mist of the hill in the day of the sun."
"The hour of worship's over; and the flute
And choral voices of the girls are mute;—
******All, all is still about the odorous grove
That wraps the temple of the Queen of Love,
All but the sparrows twittering from the eaves,
And inward voice of doves among the leaves,
And the cool, hiding noise of brooks in bowers,
And bees, that dart in bosoms of the flowers;
And now and then, a breath-increasing breeze
That comes amid a world of tumbling trees,
And makes them pant and shift against the light
About the marble roof, solid and sunny bright.—
Only some stragglers loiter round the place
To catch a glimpse of Hero's heavenly face,—
******
(Note continued.)
She waked, but stirred not, only just to please
Her pillow-nestling cheek; while the full seas,
The birds, the leaves, the lulling love o'ernight,
The happy thought of the returning light,
conspired to keep
Her senses lingering in the feel of sleep."
