, 1874-04-12
MARC ANTONY.

1.-THE following poem, by ". ". Story, tn
American sculptor. author Of II antony aud Cleo
patra, WAS lnciosed III 1ottoF from Italy 20 NJ
r. P. Tansey, President Of the Knights Of 81
Patrick, with whom the author is in correspond
cuco relative to the erection Of q monument t
Daniel OConnell in this city. This poem is pub
lished for tho first time.-,St. Louis Democrat
IT'S win, Fonteius! AS the half f-tamed steed,
sccntinC the desert, lashes madly ont,
And strains, ind storms, md struggles to be freed,
Shaking his rafting harness all about;
So, tiercer for restraint here in NY breast
hot passion RACES, firing every thought;
For what Is honor, prudence, interest,
Ny joy, bliss, triumph, glory, my souls wife,
My CIeopatrn! I desire thee SO
That all restraints to the wild winds throw.
Come what will, come Life. como death to me-
Oh! OctaEia,
THIS lying gals me. and 'as worse than rainl
Life Is too short to waste in 1oYo'e pretense,
In the bleak shadow Of indifference
And you-vhat arc you but galling chain!
hate you that cannot hate you more.
Even hate for you Is only cold and dull
Gold as yonr heart, and dull as is your sensa-
We're you but savage. wicked to the core,
Less pfous, prudish, prudent, made to rule.
might have loved Or hated moro; but now,
Nothing On earth Beems half 60 deadly chill
As your insipid emile and pacid brow.
Your glacial goodness and prop73eties.
'Tis equal, il ngain look on thee.
Away, Fonteius tell her that rage
with madness for her. Nothing can sssuago
The strong desire, tho torment, the fierce stress
Tint whrls my thoughts round and inhames my brain
My being to them with subtle law
And m almost divine tmrer1ou5ncss.
Tell her do not i've until feel
The thrill OF her wild touch that through each vein
Electric shoots its lightning; and agnn
Hear those low tones Of here, although they steal,
Az by some serpent-charm, my will away,
And wreck my manhood
Tell my dear serpent must sea her, All
NY eyes with the glad light Of her great eyes,
Though death, dishonor, anything you will,
Stand in the wayi AZ: By my soul disgrace
Than pomp power In this detcsted place.
Oh for the wine my Queen alone can pour
From her rich nature Let me starve no more
On this weak tepld drink thai never warns
My 11fe-b1ood; but away with shams md forms!
Is worth score Of Roman centuries.
Away Fonteiusl Tell her till zee
Those eyes do not uve-that Rome to mo
Is hateful Tell her-oh know not wha.l-
That every thought and feeling, space and spot,
Is like an ugly dream, where she Is not;
All persons plagues, all doiugs wearisolne,
All talking empty; all these feasts and friends
These slnTes and courtiers, Princes, palaces
This Cnsar, with his selfish aims and ends,
His oily ways aud sleek hypocrisies-
This Lepdus; and, -worse tLau all by far,
THIS mawksh, pous, prude Octavia-
Arc bonds and letters, tedious disease
Not worth the p2riugs Of her huser-uais.
Oh for tho breath Of Egypt! the soft nights
OF the yoluptuous East-~;he dear delights
That dream along the low shores Of the Nile,
And softly Autter in the laueuid sails!
Oh for the Queen of a1-for the rich smile
That CLOVIS like autumn over her dark face
For her largo nature-her enchanting grace
Her arms, that arc away SO many mile!
Away. Fonteius lose no Lour-make sail
Weigh anchor on the instant-woo gale
To blow you to her. Tell her shall bo
Close on your yery heels ACROSS the sea,
Praying that Neptune send NE storms ~ strong
As passion is, to sweep me swift along.
'T1ll the white spray ang whssling round my proT,
And the waves gurgle meath the kees sharp plough.
Fly, hy Fonteius! When I think Of her
Ny soul within my body Is ostirt
A1y wild blood pulses, and my hot cheeks glow!
Love with its madness overwhelns me 30
That I-oh! 60, say! Fouteius, go!