ELYIRA PARKER. Elvira Parker, who is well known as a contributor to the newspapers and mag- azines of Cincinnati, is a native of Philadelphia, where she was born, Deceml^er twenty-sixth, 1835. Miss Parker was educated at "The Wesleyan Female College," Cincinnati. She now resides, with her mother, in the village of Reading, near that city. Miss Parker writes poetry with grace, but evidently trusts more to the charm of feeling than to the force of art. EOLINE. Come balmy gale, — or zephyr bland, That fan the blossoms of our land ; Come gently kiss the placid brow. Nor break the slumber, calm, and mild, That holds in mystic thraldom now Our wild, capricious, fitful child ; For wayward oft, her moods, as thine. Whom we call strange, sweet Eoline. One moment, as a joyous bird, Her blissful lay of mirth is heard ; As silvery, laughing echoes trip, In rich, delicious cadence gay. From oflF the rosy, budding lip. Flowing unchecked, and free away, A glad enchantress, and divine, Seemeth our gleeful Eoline. Then, as a clouded summer sky, A shadow dims her beaming eye ; A pensive sadness checks the song, That rose in sweet, voluptuous sound. A wizard spell all deep and strong. Her every thought has seeming bound. Yet knows not why she should repine. Or wherefore weep — strange EoHne. There's magic in her music voice That makes, at times, the heart rejoice ; A meaning in the dai'k orb's light, Beneath its jetty fringe, half hid ; A dawning of some new-born might. When blazing from the upraised lid. We see the flame of mind forth shine. From the proud soul of Eoline. Ye scarce would know her path of years As yet had led 'mid sin and tears ; Or that her truthful, earnest heart Had felt the burden of despair. So guileless she, and free of art, So trusting and so child-like fair. That all our love must still incline In homage to sweet Eoline. 0, like a wavelet of the sea, A wanton wind upon the lea, A severed petal of the glade. That playfully flieth here and there — An April morn of sun and shade — A happy song, a mournful prayer. Mystic she seemeth and divine, Whom we call strange, sweet Eoline. ( 669 )
