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!