INSCRIBED ON THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT.

Unclasp me, Stranger; and unfold,

With trembling care, my leaves of gold

Rich in gothic portraiture —

If yet, alas, a leaf endure.

In RABIDA'S monastic fane

I cannot ask, and ask in vain.

The language of CASTILE I speak;

Mid many an Arab, many a Greek,

Old in the days of CHARLEMAIN;

When minstrel-music wander’ round,

And Science, waking, bless’ the sound.

No earthly thought has here a place;

The cowl let down on every face.

Yet here, in consecrated dust,

Here would I sleep, if sleep I must.

From GENOA when COLUMBUS came,

( At once her glory and her shame )

‘ Was here he caught the holy flame.

‘ Twas here the generous vow he made;

His banners on the altar laid.—

One hallow'd morn, methought,

I felt As if a soul within me dwelt!

But who arose and gave to me

The sacred trust I keep for thee,

And in his cell at even-tide

Knelt before the cross and died —

Inquire not now. His name no more

Glimmers on the chancel-floor,

Near the lights that ever shine

Before ST. MARY'S blessed shrine.

To me one little hour devote,

And lay thy staff and scrip beside thee;

Read in the temper that he wrote,

And may his gentle spirit guide thee!

My leaves forsake me, one by one;

The book-worm thro’ and thro’ has gone.

Oh haste — unclasp me, and unfold;

The tale within was never told!