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diff --git a/26611-8.txt b/26611-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..528cc8d --- /dev/null +++ b/26611-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4419 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Enthusiasm and Other Poems, by Susanna Moodie + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Enthusiasm and Other Poems + +Author: Susanna Moodie + +Release Date: September 14, 2008 [EBook #26611] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTHUSIASM AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Henry Craig, Diane Monico, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Canadian Institute for +Historical Microreproductions (www.canadiana.org)) + + + + + + + + + +ENTHUSIASM; +AND +OTHER POEMS, + + +BY +SUSANNA STRICKLAND, +(NOW MRS. MOODIE.) + + +LONDON: +SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. 65, CORNHILL. +MDCCCXXXI. + + + + +POEMS. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + +ENTHUSIASM 1 + +Fame 25 + +The Deluge 37 + +The Avenger of Blood 44 + +The Overthrow of Zebah and Zalmunna 49 + +Paraphrase, (Psalm XLIV.) 57 + +Paraphrase, (Isaiah XL.) 59 + +The Vision of Dry Bones 61 + +The Destruction of Babylon 65 + +To the Memory of Mrs. Ewing 70 + +To the Memory of R. R. Jun. 74 + +An Appeal to the Free 77 + +War 80 + +The Earthquake 85 + +Lines, written amidst the ruins of a +church on the coast of Suffolk 89 + +The Old Ash Tree 94 + +The Nameless Grave 97 + +The Pause 98 + +Uncertainty 100 + +The Warning 104 + +Lines on a new-born Infant 106 + +The Christian Mother's Lament 108 + +The Child's first Grief 110 + +The Lament of the Disappointed 113 + +Hymn of the Convalescent 116 + +Youth and Age 120 + +Mary Hume 123 + +The Spirit of Motion 126 + +Lines written during a gale of wind 129 + +The Spirit of the Spring 132 + +O come to the Meadows 135 + +Thou wilt think of me, Love 139 + +The Forest Rill 142 + +To Water Lilies 146 + +Autumn 149 + +The Reapers' Song 153 + +Winter 155 + +Fancy and the Poet 159 + +Night's Phantasies 163 + +Songs of the Hours 169 + +The Luminous Bow 177 + +The Sugar Bird 179 + +The Dream 181 + +The Ruin 184 + +Winter calling up his Legions 193 + +There's Joy, &c. 200 + +Love 205 + +Morning Hymn 206 + +Evening Hymn 210 + + + + +TO JAMES MONTGOMERY, ESQ. + + +With sincere admiration of his genius as a poet, his virtues as a +Christian, and his character as a man, this Volume is most respectfully +inscribed, by his obliged servant, + + THE AUTHOR. + + Reydon, Suffolk, + Jan. 1st. 1831. + + + + +ENTHUSIASM. + + +Oh for the spirit which inspired of old +The seer's prophetic song--the voice that spake +Through Israel's warrior king. The strains that burst +In thrilling tones from Zion's heaven-strung harp, +Float down the tide of ages, shedding light +On pagan shores and nations far remote: +Eternal as the God they celebrate, +Their fame shall last when Time's long race is run, +And you refulgent eye of this fair world,-- +Its light and centre,--into darkness shrinks, +Eclipsed for ever by the glance of Him +Whose rising sheds abroad eternal day. +Almighty, uncreated Source of life! +To Thee I dedicate my soul and song; +In humble adoration bending low +Before thy footstool. Thou alone canst stamp +A lasting glory on the works of man, +Tuning the shepherd's reed, or monarch's harp, +To sounds harmonious. Immortality +Exists alone in Thee. The proudest strain +That ever fired the poet's soul, or drew +Melodious breathings from his gifted lyre, +Unsanctioned by thy smile, shall die away +Like the faint sound which the soft summer breeze +Wins from the stately lily's silver bells; +A passing murmur, a half-whispered sigh, +Heard for a moment in the deep repose +Of Nature's midnight rest--then hushed for ever! + Parent of genius, bright Enthusiasm! +Bold nurse of high resolve and generous thought, +'Tis to thy soul-awakening power we owe +The preacher's eloquence, the painter's skill, +The poet's lay, the patriot's noble zeal, +The warrior's courage, and the sage's lore. +Oh! till the soul is quickened by thy breath, +Wit, wisdom, eloquence, and beauty, fail +To make a just impression on the heart; +The tide of life creeps lazily along, +Soiled with the stains of earth, and man debased +Sinks far below the level of the stream. +Alas! that thy bright flame should be confined +To passion's maddening vortex; and the soul +Waste all its glorious energies on earth!-- +The world allows its votaries to feel +A glowing ardour, an intense delight, +On every subject but the one that lifts +The soul above its sensual, vain pursuits, +And elevates the mind and thoughts to God! +Zeal in a sacred cause alone is deemed +An aberration of our mental powers. +The sons of pleasure cannot bear that light +Of heavenly birth which penetrates the souls +Of men, who, deeply conscious of their guilt, +Mourn o'er their lost, degraded state, and seek, +Through faith in Christ's atonement, to regain +The glorious liberty of sons of God! +Who, as redeemed, account it their chief joy +To praise and celebrate the wondrous love +That called them out of darkness into light,-- +Severed the chain which bound them to the dust, +Unclosed the silent portals of the grave, +And gave Hope wings to soar again to heaven!-- + + Oh, thou bright spirit, of whose power I sing, +Electric, deathless energy of mind, +Harp of the soul, by genius swept, awake! +Inspire my strains, and aid me to portray +The base and joyless vanities which man +Madly prefers to everlasting bliss!-- +Come! let us mount gay Fancy's rapid car, +And trace through forest and o'er mountain rude +The bounding footsteps of the youthful bard, +Yet new to life--a stranger to the woes +His harp is doomed to mourn in plaintive tones. +His ardent unsophisticated mind, +On all things beautiful, delighted, dwells. +Earth is to him a paradise. No cloud +Floats o'er the golden promise of the morn. +Hope daily weaves fresh roses for his brow, +Shrouding the grim and ghastly phantom, Death, +Beneath her soft and rainbow-tinted wings. +Ere Care has tainted with her poisonous breath +Life's opening buds, all objects wear to him +A lovely aspect, and he peoples space +With creatures of his own. The glorious forms +Which haunt his solitude, and brightly fill +Imagination's airy hall, atone +For all the faults and follies of his kind. +Nor marvel that he cannot comprehend +The speculative aims of worldly men: +Dearer to him a leaf, or bursting bud, +Culled fresh from Nature's treasury, than all +The golden dreams that cheat the care-worn crowd. +His world is all within. He mingles not +In their society; he cannot drudge +To win the wealth they toil to realize. +A different spirit animates his breast. +Their eager calculations, hopes, and fears, +Still flit before him, like dim shadows thrown +By April's passing clouds upon the stream, +A moment mirrored in its azure depths, +Till the next sunbeam turns them into light!-- + + Rashly confiding, still to be deceived, +Our youthful poet overleaps the bounds +Of probability. He walks this earth +Like an enfranchised spirit; and the storms, +That darken and convulse a guilty world, +Come like faint peals of thunder on his ear, +Or hoarser murmurs of the mighty deep, +Which heard in some dark forest's leafy shade +But add a solemn grandeur to the scene.-- +The genial tide of thought still swiftly flows +Rejoicing onward, ere the icy breath +Of sorrow falls upon the sunny fount, +And chains the music of its dancing waves.-- +What is the end of all his lovely dreams-- +The bright fulfilment of his earthly hopes? +Too often penury and dire disease, +Neglect, a broken heart, an early grave!-- +Oh, had he tuned his harp to truths divine, +With saints and martyrs sought a heavenly crown, +How had his theme immortalized his song!-- + + Behold the man, who to the poet's fire +Unites the painter's fascinating art; +His touch embodies all that fancy brings +To charm the mental vision, and he dives +Into the rich and shadowy world of thought, +Soars up to heaven, or plunges down to hell, +In search of forms to mortal eyes unknown, +To animate the canvass. His bold eye +Confronts the king of terrors. Through the gates +Of that dark prison-house of woe and dread +Hails the infernal monarch on his throne, +Crowned with ambition's diadem of fire.-- +Unsatisfied with all that Nature gives +To charm the wandering heart and roving eye, +He would portray Omnipotence.--Rash man! +Reason revolting shudders at the act.-- +God is a Spirit without form or parts; +And canst thou, from a human model, trace +The awful grandeur of Creation's King? +Nature supplies thee with no perfect draught +Of human beauty in its sinless state. +Man bears upon his brow the curse of guilt, +The shadow of mortality, that marks, +E'en in the sunny season of his youth, +The melancholy sentence of decay.-- +Is it from such the painter would depict +The vision of Jehovah?--and from eyes, +Dimmed with the tears of passion, woe, and pain, +Seek to portray the dread all-seeing eye, +Which at a momentary glance can read +The inmost secrets of all hearts, and pierce +The dark and fathomless abyss of night? +Oh, drop the pencil!--Angels cannot gaze +On Him who sits upon the jasper throne, +Robed in the splendour of immortal light; +But cast their crowns before him whilst they veil +The brow in rapt devotion and adore!-- + + Nature will furnish subjects far beyond +The grasp of human genius. Didst thou e'er, +On mossy bank or grassy plot reclined, +Watch the effect of sunlight on the boughs +Of some tall graceful ash, or maple tree? +Each leaf illumin'd by the noon-tide beam +Transparent shines.--Anon a heavy cloud +Floats for a moment o'er the car of day, +And gloom descends upon the forest bowers; +A ray steals forth--and on the topmost twig +Falls, like a silver star. From leaf to leaf +The glory spreads, shoots down the rugged trunk +And gilds each spray, till the whole tree stands forth +Arrayed in light.--This is beyond thy art. +All thy enthusiasm, all thy boasted skill, +But poorly imitates a forest tree. + + But let us leave the painter. Let us turn +To those, who never swept the sounding lyre +Or grasped the pencil,--ardent minds that hold +A deep communion with the winds and waves, +The youthful worshippers at Nature's shrine: +What says the soft voice of the plaintive breeze, +Mournfully sweeping through the forest boughs, +In airy play moved gently by its breath? +To such it hath a language, and it wins +A tender echo from the youthful heart.-- + + With throbbing bosom Nature's student treads +The sylvan haunts, exultingly leaps forth +To hail the coming of the genial spring, +Shedding around from her green lap the buds, +In winter's rugged casket long enshrined, +To form the chaplet of the infant year.-- +Young pensive moralist!--'tis sweet to muse +On beauties which escape the vulgar eye, +To talk with Nature 'mid her woodland paths, +And hear an answering voice in every breeze.-- +You court her beauties with a lover's zeal; +You hear her voice, nor understand the sound +Which speaks to you--to all. The volume spread +Before your dazzled eyes, so rich with life, +Is a closed book--a fair illumined scroll, +Traced in strange characters, unknown to you. +Would you unfold the mystery, and read +The record the eternal hand of God +Has, of himself, on Nature's tablets graved? +You must explore another wondrous book, +Of deeper interest far--the book of life-- +The glorious volume of unsullied truth!-- +Time's rapid and undeviating march +Tramples down empires, blots out names that once +Bid fair for perpetuity of fame. +Truth is alone eternal as the God +Who on this everlasting basis placed +His own immutable and moveless throne. +Time to these writings daily adds new force, +Deepening the traces of Jehovah's love, +His fathomless, unbounded love to man.-- +Peruse this volume, and then walk abroad +And meditate in silence on the scenes +Which lately charmed your unassisted sense, +Till your soul burns within you, and breaks forth +In holy hymns of gratitude and praise.-- + + Faith gives a grandeur to created things, +Beyond the poet's lay or painter's art, +Or upward flight of Fancy's eagle wing;-- +Earth is the vista through which heaven is seen +By him who, journeying through life's narrow vale, +Seeks in the objects which around him rise +To hold communion with his God! to trace +The wisdom, goodness, majesty, and love, +That clothed the lilies of the field, and twined +The simple diadem of buds and leaves, +So rich in their diversity of shade, +Round Nature's brow,--and o'er the rugged hills +Cast the light floating veil of purple haze, +Which harmonizes to its own soft hue +The broken precipice and barren heath. +Here admiration may have ample scope: +The spirit soaring upward drinks in light +From other worlds, and in the choral song +Of happy birds among the forest bowers, +Hears the seraphic and harmonious strains +That angels chant around the eternal throne!-- +To him there is an anthem in the breeze, +A burst of triumph in the thunder's peal, +Which, slowly rolling through the troubled air, +Strikes man with terror, and yet praises God!-- + + O'er Fancy's glass another shadow flits, +Which shows a bolder aspect than the gay +Impassioned votaries of Nature wear. +Mark his majestic port, his eagle eye, +The stern erection of his haughty brow, +Partially shaded by the snowy plumes +That lightly wave and wanton in the breeze.-- +Is this a pensioner of hope?--Is this +A dreamer of wild dreams?--All eyes are turned +To gaze upon him, as with measured step +The weaponed warrior slowly passes by.-- +Oh, this is one of War's tremendous sons, +Glory's intrepid champion: his stout heart +Leaps, as the war-horse, to the trumpet's sound, +And hails the storm of battle from afar. +He loves the press, the tumult, and the strife, +Where horror holds the gory steeds of death, +And slaughter hews a passage for the brave!-- +He too is an enthusiast!--his zeal +Impels him onward with resistless force, +Severs his heart from nature's kindred ties, +And feeds the wild ambition which consumes +All that is good and lovely in his path. +He flashes, like a meteor, on the sight, +Seen 'mid the angry thunder-clouds of war, +Seeking a living name in fields where Death +Holds his imperial banquet, and the blood +Of thousands flows to furnish forth the feast. + + There was a time when softer feelings held +Their mild dominion o'er that haughty breast; +When at his mother's feet, a rosy boy, +He wove bright garlands for his artless brow, +And sought, with playful dalliance, to detain +The busy hand that could not pause to bind +His cumbrous wreath, or answer the caress +Of him who climbed her knees to steal the kiss. +But even at those tender years, his braid +Of April blossoms was his crown; the twig +Of golden willow, with white daisies bound, +His jewelled sceptre; and the mossy bank, +Where he reclined in floral state, his throne; +The lambs that sported in the yellow meads +His lawful subjects; while his azure eye +Looked up to heaven with all a child's delight, +And thought that earth was only made for him.-- +How often has he wept for that fair moon, +That shed her trembling glory o'er his path; +Wearied his slender limbs to reach the spot +On which the rainbow based its splendid arch, +And felt his heart with disappointment beat +When the fair pageant faded from his view.-- + + Ah, simple boy!--well had it been for thee +Had thy ambitious longings been confined +To objects wisely placed beyond thy grasp. +But years stole on--thy ardent spirit broke +Its childish trammels, and with eager joy +Explored the warlike annals of the past, +And called up spirits of the mighty dead, +To set their hostile armies in array, +And fight for thee their sanguine battles o'er. +Oh, while such visions burst upon thy sight, +Whilst shouts of victory and dying groans +Rang on thine ear--time backward rolled his tide, +Rome in her ancient splendour proudly rose, +And murdered Cæsar lived again in thee! + + Young fiery soldier!--let us track thy steps +Through danger's stormy paths, to win the goal +Of all thy lofty and ambitious hopes. +Wedded to glory, thy brave heart springs forth +To win thy bride from valour's armed hand, +And pluck the laurel from the brow of death. +A novice in the camp and new to arms, +The bugle lulls thee to repose, the trumpet +Thrills on thy sleeping ear, and bids thee dream +Of deathless fields in fancy fought and won. +At length the day of trial comes--the day +Which puts thy boasted courage to the proof-- +Thy first in battle, and perchance thy last. +The camp is broken up, the air is rent +With strains of martial music, the loud neigh +Of prancing steeds, impatient for the strife, +With clang of arms, and oft-repeated shouts +Of warriors, who impatiently leap forth +With reckless hardihood to meet their doom. + + With beating heart, firm step, and flashing eye, +The young recruit of glory proudly grasps +The standard he must only yield with life. +The march commences--deep excitement grows +To fiery expectation--he forgets, +Amidst the hurried interest of the scene, +The crown he fights for only can be won +Through seas of slaughter and the waste of life. +Alas! how few devoted hearts like his +Survive their first engagement with the foe. +Death strikes the hero to the dust. He falls +In honour's mantle, the triumphant cry +Of victory on his pallid lip expires! +But what are conquests of the bow and spear, +And Alexander's victories, compared +With the stern warfare which the soul maintains +Against the subtle tempter of mankind-- +The base corruptions of a sinful world-- +An evil conscience and a callous heart? +Oh, vanquish these!--and through the gates of death +Triumphant pass and win a heavenly crown!-- + + Oh, that my soul could find a voice to speak; +That human language could express the thoughts +Which fill the secret chambers of the brain. +In vain the lips pour forth harmonious sounds; +In vain the eager eye is raised to heaven, +Swimming in tears, and bright with ecstasy,-- +The senses still are debtors to the heart, +Which, trembling, throbs for utterance in vain. +Does the salvation of a deathless soul +Kindle no hope in the possessor's breast? +Awaken no desire to be restored +To that most pure and perfect state of bliss +Man by transgression lost?--the noble thought +Of claiming kindred with the skies, give birth +To no anticipations of delight-- +Joys such as angels share, and saints, who dwell +Within the circle of Jehovah's throne? +A light is breaking on my mental eye; +Visions of glory in succession rise +And fill the airy palace of the soul. +I see afar the promised land. An arch +Of golden radiance canopies the gates +Of that celestial city--Beautiful! +Unbuilt by hands--the New Jerusalem-- +And holy to the Lord; the happy home +Of pilgrims, who to reach that heavenly shrine +Sojourned as strangers on this goodly earth, +Counting all things but loss--yea, life itself-- +To win an entrance through those gates of pearl, +And dwell within the temple of their God! +Alas! earth's dusky shadow lies between +My ardent spirit and that blissful shore: +Eye hath not seen, nor mortal ear hath heard, +How then can mortal pen portray, the joys +Prepared for those who live and die in Christ! + + Before me flows the rapid stream of time, +Dark, fathomless, encumbered with the wrecks +Of twice three thousand years. They too shall sink +Beneath those turbid waters, swallowed up +In the vast ocean of eternity; +Leaving few fragments on the boundless waste +To tell to coming years that such have been. +How shall the naked spirit cross the flood, +And land in safety on the happy shore? +'Tis not an earthly pilot that can steer +So frail a bark through such a stormy tide. +Cannot the eye of faith look up and see +The clouds of sorrow part--the day-star rise +Above life's trackless ocean, shedding light +Upon the darkened nations? From its beams +The mist of error flies, the angry waves +Of passion, which so long have vexed the world, +Are hushed to rest; controlled by Him who rose +From tranquil sleep, and to the roaring waste +Of midnight waters, mustering all their wrath, +Said, "Peace, be still." The howling winds obeyed, +And silence sank upon the storm-tossed main!-- + + Oh look to Him! and to his glorious word. +His universal sovereignty demands +That deep devotion of the heart which men +Miscall enthusiasm!--Zeal alone deserves +The name of madness in a worldly cause. +Light misdirected ever leads astray; +But hope inspired by faith will guide to heaven! +To win the laurel wreath the soldier fights; +To free his native land the patriot bleeds; +And to secure his crown the martyr dies! +For beauteous Rachel Isaac's son endured +Seven years of bitter servitude, and deemed +The weary months but moments to obtain +From crafty Laban's hand his promised bride. +To prove his friendship for the man he loved, +The generous Jonathan forgot his claims +To royalty, intent to save the life +Of him whom God had called to fill his throne. +And wilt thou feel less zealous to regain +The love and favour of thy heavenly King, +And shrink because the path to glory lies +Up the steep hill of duty? He who saved, +Amidst the tempest on Gennesaret, +Peter, when sinking in the waves, will aid +Thy feeble steps, and guide thee to the rock +Of everlasting strength!-- + + Spirit divine! +Whose name I erst invoked, whose influence fills +The narrow confines of this human breast,-- +If I have dared to sing of truths sublime, +Oh, shed a glory round my rugged lyre-- +Hallow the feeble strains that would reveal +The dazzling light, which streaming from thy wings, +Gilds all the dark and troubled tide of thought. +Lifted by thee above the gulf of time +My eye explores the regions of the blessed, +And hopes long chained to earth are raised to heaven. +Never, while reason holds her steady rein, +To curb imagination's fiery steeds, +May I to joyless apathy resign +The high and holy thoughts inspired by thee! + + + + +FAME. + + +Oh ye! who all life's energies combine +The fadeless laurel round your brows to twine, +Pause but one moment in your brief career, +Nor seek for glory in a mortal sphere. +Can figures traced upon the shifting sand +Washed by the mighty tide, its force withstand? +Time's stern resistless torrent onward flows, +The restless waves above your labours close, +And He who bids the bounding billows roll +Sweeps out the feeble record from the soul. + + The glorious hues that flush the evening sky +Melt into night, and on her bosom die; +Through the wide fields of heaven's immensity +The gold-tipped billows of that crimson sea +Flash on the awe-struck gazer's dazzled sight, +The rich out-gushings from the fount of light; +Yet oft, concealed beneath that splendid form, +We hail the herald of the coming storm; +The fiery spirit over half a globe +Spreads the bright tissue of his beamy robe, +And, ere the day-king veils his glowing crest, +Shrouds the dark tempest in his burning vest; +O'er earth and heaven his gorgeous banner flings, +And gilds with borrowed light his sable wings-- +And those who view with rapture-lifted eyes +The short-lived pageant of the summer skies, +Behold it vanish like a fearful dream, +And death and desolation mar its beam. +So when we seek above life's sea of tears +To raise a monument for future years, +If built on earth the fabric will decay, +Oblivion's hand will sweep the pile away; +The proudest trophies of the mightiest mind +Fade in her grasp, nor leave a wreck behind; +She o'er earth's ruins spreads her misty pall, +And time's unsparing ocean swallows all; +Hope for a moment gilds the spoiler's shroud, +As parting sunbeams tinge the lurid cloud; +The transient glory cheats the gazer's sight; +The storm rolls on--'tis universal night! + + Say did not man inherit, at his birth, +A higher promise than the things of earth; +Views more exalted than this world can give, +And hopes that, deathless as the soul, outlive +The wreck of nature, and the common doom +That hourly sweeps her myriads to the tomb? +His mental powers, unfettered by the clod, +Soar o'er time's gulf, and reach the throne of God. +Oh what a privilege it is to know +That death chains not the immortal soul below! +Through the dark portals of the grave upborne, +Leaving the care-worn sons of earth to mourn, +On wings of light the new-born spirit flies +To seek a home and kindred in the skies. + + Oh what are earthly crowns and earthly bliss, +And pride's delusive dreams, compared with this? +Ambition's laurel, purchased with a flood +Of human tears and stained with kindred blood, +Once gained, converted to a crown of thorns, +Pierces the aching temples it adorns-- +Not Sappho's lyre, nor Raphael's deathless art +Can twine the olive round the bleeding heart; +In heaven alone the promised blessing lies, +And those who seek--must seek it in the skies! +Seek it through Him who, humbling human pride, +Wept o'er man's fall, and for his ransom died; +Poured out his blood on the accursed tree, +To break the chain and set the captive free. +Heaven bowed its glory on the cross to teach +That greatness man's lost nature could not reach, +The true humility, which stoops to rise, +And, leaving earth, claims kindred with the skies. + + How many pages have been blotted o'er +With heartfelt tears, that now are read no more; +And, like the eyes that long have ceased to weep, +In dust and darkness quite forgotten sleep! +Dead to the world as if they ne'er had been +The favoured actors in one little scene. +The scene is changed--and, like their fleeting-fame, +The fickle world adores another name. +They knew the price at which its praise was bought; +The glittering bauble was not worth a thought; +Yet, Esau like, a better birthright sold, +And for base counterfeit exchanged the gold! + + Ere man presumptuously his genius boasts, +Let him reflect upon the countless hosts, +The untold myriads, of each age and clime, +That sleep forgotten in the grave of time. +What were their names! Go ask the silent sod +Their deeds--their record lives but with their God! +At every step we tread on kindred earth, +Nor know the spot that gave our fathers birth. +Oh! could we call before our wondering eyes +All that have lived--and bid the dead arise, +From the first moment the Creator spoke +The word of power, and light through darkness broke, +And see earth covered with the mighty tide +Of all who on her bosom lived and died, +What a stupendous thought would fill the soul +Could we behold life's breathing ocean roll +Its human billows onward--and the mass +The grave has swallowed, down from Adam, pass +In one unbroken stream--the brain would reel-- +Lost in immensity, would cease to feel! +Whilst living, ah, how few were known to fame! +One in a million has not left a name,-- +A single token, on life's shifting scene, +To tell to other years that such has been. +Yet man, unaided by a hope sublime, +Thinks that his puny arm can cope with time; +That his vast genius can reverse the doom, +And shed a deathless light upon his tomb; +That distant ages shall his worth admire, +And young hearts kindle at the sacred fire +Of him whose fame no envious clouds o'ercast, +Yet died forgotten and unknown at last. + +Oh think not genius, with its hallowed light, +Can break the gloom of an eternal night; +For splendid talents often lead astray +The unguarded heart, and hide the narrow way, +While the unlearned and those of low estate, +With faith's clear eye behold the living gate, +Whose portals open on the shoreless sea +Where time's strong ocean meets eternity. +Across the gulf that stretches far beneath +Lies the dark valley of the shade of death-- +A land of deep forgetfulness,--a shore +Which all must traverse, but return no more +To this sad earth, to dissipate our dread, +And tell the mighty secrets of the dead. +Enough for us that those drear realms were trod +By heavenly footsteps, that the Son of God +Passed the dark bourne and vanquished Death, to save +The weary wanderers of life's stormy wave. + + Why then should man thus cleave to things of earth? +Daily experience proves their little worth-- +Or waste those noble qualities of mind, +For wise and better purposes designed, +In the pursuit of trifles, which confer +No solid pleasure on their worshipper; +Or in the search of causes that are known +And guided by Omnipotence alone? +A height his finite reason cannot reach, +And all his boasted learning fails to teach? +While the bewildering thought overwhelms his brain, +Death comes to prove his speculations vain! + + Is he deserving of a better doom +Who will not raise a hope beyond the tomb? +Who, quite enamoured with his fallen state, +Clings to the world and leaves the rest to fate; +Prefers corruption to his Maker's smile, +"And shuns the light because his deeds are vile?" +The man who feels the value of his soul, +Presses unwearied towards a higher goal; +Leaving this earth, he seeks a brighter prize, +And claims a crown immortal in the skies. +The child of pleasure may despise his aim, +And heap reproach upon the Christian's name, +May laugh his faith, as foolishness, to scorn:-- +These by the man of God are meekly borne. +His glorious hope no infidel can shake; +He suffers calmly for his Saviour's sake.-- + + The world's poor votary seeks in vain for peace: +He cannot bid the voice of conscience cease +Its dire upbraidings; in his heartless course +He meets at every turn the fiend Remorse, +Who glares upon him with her tearless eye, +That sears his heart--but mocks its agony. +He hears that voice, amid the festive throng, +Speak in the dance and murmur in the song, +A death-bell, pealing in the midnight chime, +Whose awful tones proclaim the lapse of time, +And e'en the winged moments as they fly +Seem to proclaim--"Rash mortal, thou must die! +Soon must thou tread the path thy fathers trod, +And stand before the judgment-seat of God!"-- +He hears--but seeks in pleasure's cup to drown +The dread that weighs his ardent spirit down; +Derides the warning voice in mercy sent; +Rejects the thought of after-punishment; +In folly's vortex wastes the spring of youth, +Nor, till death summons, owns the awful truth; +Feels it too late to calm the agonies +Remorse has kindled--and despairing, dies! + + But in the breast where true religion reigns +There is a balm for all these mental pains; +A sweet contentment, felt, but undefined, +A full and free surrender of the mind +To its divine-original; a trust +Which lifts to heaven the dweller of the dust. +The pilgrim, glowing with a hope divine, +Counts not the distance to the heavenly shrine; +He meets with guardian spirits on the road, +Who cheer his steps and ease his heavy load. +Serenely journeying to a better clime +He does not shudder at the lapse of time; +But calmly drinks the cup of mortal woe, +And finds that peace the world cannot bestow; +That promised joy which brightens all beneath, +And smooths his pillow on the bed of death; +That perfect love which casteth out all fear, +And wafts his spirit to a happier sphere!-- + + Fame is a dream--the praise of man as brief +As morning dew upon the folded leaf; +The summer sun exhales the pearly tear, +And leaves no trace of its existence there. +Seek not for immortality below, +But fix your hopes beyond this vale of woe, +That when oblivion gathers round thy sod, +A lasting record may be found with God!-- + + + + +THE DELUGE. + + +Visions of the years gone by +Flash upon my mental eye; +Ages time no longer numbers, +Forms that share oblivion's slumbers, +Creatures of that elder world +Now in dust and darkness hurled, +Crushed beneath the heavy rod +Of a long forsaken God! + + Hark! what spirit moves the crowd? +Like the voice of waters loud, +Through the open city gate, +Urged by wonder, fear, or hate, +Onward rolls the mighty tide-- +Spreads the tumult far and wide. +Heedless of the noontide glare, +Infancy and age are there,-- +Joyous youth and matron staid, +Blooming bride and blushing maid,-- +Manhood with his fiery glance, +War-chief with his lifted lance,-- +Beauty with her jewelled brow, +Hoary age with locks of snow: +Prince, and peer, and statesman grave, +White-stoled priest, and dark-browed slave,-- +Plumed helm, and crowned head, +By one mighty impulse led-- +Mingle in the living mass, +That onward to the desert pass! + + With song and shout and impious glee, +What rush earth's myriads forth to see? +Hark! the sultry air is rent +With their boisterous merriment! +Are they to the vineyards rushing, +Where the grape's rich blood is gushing? +Or hurrying to the bridal rite +Of warrior brave and beauty bright? +Ah no! those heads in mockery crowned, +Those pennons gay with roses bound, +Hie not to a scene of gladness-- +Theirs is mirth that ends in madness! +All recklessly they rush to hear +The dark words of that gifted seer, +Who amid a guilty race +Favour found and saving grace; +Rescued from the doom that hurled +To chaos back a sinful world.-- +Self-polluted, lost, debased, +Every noble trait effaced, +To rapine, lust, and murder given, +Denying God, defying heaven, +Spoilers of the shrine and hearth, +Behold the impious sons of earth! +Alas! all fatally opposed, +The heart of erring man is closed +Against that warning, and he deems +The prophet's counsel idle dreams, +And laughs to hear the preacher rave +Of bursting cloud and whelming wave! + + Tremble Earth! the awful doom +That sweeps thy millions to the tomb +Hangs darkly o'er thee,--and the train +That gaily throng the open plain, +Shall never raise those laughing eyes +To welcome summer's cloudless skies; +Shall never see the golden beam +Of day light up the wood and stream, +Or the rich and ripened corn +Waving in the breath of morn, +Or their rosy children twine +Chaplets of the clustering vine:-- +The bow is bent! the shaft is sped! +Who shall wail above the dead? + + What arrests their frantic course? +Back recoils the startled horse, +And the stifling sob of fear +Like a knell appals the ear! +Lips are quivering--cheeks are pale-- +Palsied limbs all trembling fail; +Eyes with bursting terror gaze +On the sun's portentous blaze, +Through the wide horizon gleaming, +Like a blood-red banner streaming; +While like chariots from afar, +Armed for elemental war, +Clouds in quick succession rise, +Darkness spreads o'er all the skies; +And a lurid twilight gloom +Closes o'er earth's living tomb! + + Nature's pulse has ceased to play,-- +Night usurps the crown of day,-- +Every quaking heart is still, +Conscious of the coming ill. +Lo, the fearful pause is past, +The awful tempest bursts at last! +Torrents sweeping down amain +With a deluge flood the plain; +The rocks are rent, the mountains reel, +Earth's yawning caves their depths reveal; +The forests groan,--the heavy gale +Shrieks out Creation's funeral wail. +Hark! that loud tremendous roar! +Ocean overleaps the shore, +Pouring all his giant waves +O'er the fated land of graves; +Where his white-robed spirit glides, +Death the advancing billow rides, +And the mighty conqueror smiles +In triumph o'er the sinking isles. + + Hollow murmurs fill the air, +Thunders roll and lightnings glare; +Shrieks of woe and fearful cries, +Mingled sounds of horror rise; +Dire confusion, frantic grief, +Agony that mocks relief, +Like a tempest heaves the crowd, +While in accents fierce and loud, +With pallid lips and curdled blood, +Each trembling cries, "The flood! the flood!" + + + + +THE AVENGER OF BLOOD. + + +There were two sons of Ashur at work in the field, +And one to the other his passion revealed-- +As the white barley bowed to the stroke of his scythe, +He burst out in accents exultingly blithe-- + + "I have wooed a young maid!--I have wooed and I've won, +On a lovelier face never glanced yon bright sun; +To the tall stately cedar my love I'll compare, +With her eyes' shaded glory, her long raven hair, +And her bosom as white as the snow when it gleams +On Lebanon's heights, ere washed down by the streams. +She has ravished and filled my rapt soul with delight; +She's more dear to my heart than yon heavens to my sight."-- + + "And who is the chosen?" his comrade replied, +Whilst the deepest of crimson his swarthy cheek dyed, +His severed lips trembled, his eagle eye fell +With a glance on his kinsman that urged him to tell.-- +"'Tis Iddo's bright daughter!"--The words were scarce said-- +At the feet of his brother young Simeon lay dead.-- +It was but one blow on those temples so fair, +One fierce cry of anger and jealous despair; +And shuddering with horror his stern rival stood, +And gazed on those features disfigured with blood.-- + + Weep, fratricide, weep!--'tis in vain that you cast +Your arms round that pale form, the struggle is past; +'Tis in vain that chilled heart to your bosom you press, +Its stillness increases your frantic distress. +You have scattered the gems in youth's beautiful crown, +And his sun at mid-day has in darkness gone down; +He never shall bind for your false love a wreath, +The hand of the bridegroom is stiffened in death. +Then dash from those wild eyes the fast-flowing tear, +And fly!--for the City of Refuge is near.-- +There's a murmur of voices, a shout on the wind, +Fly! fly! the Avenger of Blood is behind!-- + + He fled like an arrow just launched from the bow, +O'erwhelm'd with remorse and distracted with woe; +The victim of passion--he'd gladly give all +Life's dearest enjoyments that hour to recall. +The stain on his hands added wings to his flight, +As onward he sped through the shadows of night, +And his startled ear caught in the wind's fitful moan, +As it swept through the forest, a faint dying groan; +The leaves rustling near sent a chill to his heart, +And oft backward he glanced with an agonized start, +And felt on his throat, parched and swollen with dread, +The soul-thrilling grasp of the phantom-like dead. +That pang was too great for the sinner to bear, +And his fears found a voice in wild shrieks of despair! + +But the night and its long noon of horrors is past, +A broad line of light on the blue hills is cast, +And the city of refuge before him appears, +Like a beacon of hope, giving rest to his fears-- +"But hark!--the avenger of blood is at hand; +Dost thou hear the loud shouts of his death-dooming band? +The trampling of horses rings sharp on the breeze, +And armour is glancing at times through the trees; +On! on! for thy life!--if they compass the plain, +Thy sentence is sealed and all rescue is vain?"-- + + He strains every nerve--he redoubles his speed, +And strength is supplied in the moment of need, +The race is for life--and the city is won, +Ere its broad towers reflect the first beams of the sun.-- + + One proud glance of triumph the fugitive threw +On the band of pursuers that burst on his view, +He shook his clenched hand--and a tremulous cry +Rose and died on his pale lips their wrath to defy; +But the effort, too mighty, has severed in twain +His heart-strings--he staggers and sinks to the plain, +And the cold dews that moisten that toil-crimsoned face +Tell that death claims his victim, the prize of the race, +That the city no refuge to guilt can afford-- +He has found an Avenger of Blood in the Lord! + + + + +THE OVERTHROW OF +ZEBAH AND ZALMUNNA. + +JUDGES VIII. + + +Who are ye, who through the night +Onward urge your desperate flight? +Far and wide the hills repeat +The hurried tread of armed feet, +Ringing helm and dying groan, +The crash of chariots overthrown, +And muttered curse and menace dire, +As warriors in their rage expire. +From the vengeance of the Lord, +From the terrors of the sword, +From Karkor's field, with slaughter red, +Have Zebah and Zalmunna fled. + + He who checked their haughty boast, +Hard upon that flying host +Presses, with avenging spear +Flashing on their scattered rear: +Nor can hills of slaughter tire +The pursuer's burning ire; +Still along the hills are poured +Shouts of "Gideon and the Lord." + + Morning spread her wings of light +O'er the sable couch of night: +Back the shades of darkness rolled, +Glowed the purple east with gold, +And the young day's rosy glance +Gleamed on broken helm and lance, +Ere the fearful chase was won, +Ere the fierce pursuit was done, +Or the slayer staid his hand, +Or the warrior sheathed his brand, +Or rested from the sanguine toil, +Or paused to share the princely spoil, +And pealed along the host the cry, +"The Lord hath won the victory!" + + Lo! Zebah and Zalmunna come, +Unheralded by trump or drum; +Harp and timbrel now are mute, +Cymbal loud and softer flute. +And where are they, the bands that rent +At morn with shouts the firmament? +Like clods, far stretched o'er plain and hill, +Their limbs are stiff, their lips are still! +Broken is the arm of war; +Quenched in night is Midian's star! + + Hot with toil, and stained with blood, +Yet still in spirit unsubdued, +To the champion of the Lord +Midian's princes yield the sword. +Pomp and power, and crown and life, +All were staked on that fell strife: +All are lost!--yet still they bear +A monarch's pride in their despair; +A warrior's pride, that will not yield +Though vanquished on the battle-field. + + "Captives of my bow and spear! +Zebah and Zalmunna, hear: +God hath smitten down the pride +Of Midian on the mountain's side; +Ye are given, a helpless prey, +Into Israel's hand to-day: +Gideon's arm is strong to spare +Princes, boldly now declare +The form and bearing of the brave +Who at Tabor found a grave?" + + His head the high Zalmunna raised, +A moment on the victor gazed, +And paused until the tide of thought +The image back to memory brought: +His reply was stern and brief-- +"As thou art--were they, O chief! +Each a regal crown might wear, +Each might be a monarch's heir."-- + + With a sudden start and cry, +Quivering lip and blazing eye, +Gideon smote his clenched hand +Fiercely on his battle brand-- +"Smitten down with spear and bow, +All my father's house lie low, +Brethren of one mother born-- +As their sun went down at morn, +Neither crown nor regal state +Shall exempt you from their fate!-- +By the Lord of Hosts I swear, +Had your souls been known to spare +The men whom ye at Tabor slew, +Such mercy I had shown to you! +Up Jether!--for thy kindred's sake, +Thy father's sword and spirit take; +Let Zebah and Zalmunna feel +A brother's vengeance in the steel!" + + Eagerly the blood-stained brand +Grasped young Jether in his hand, +While the spirit of his race +Lighted up his kindling face, +And his soul to vengeance woke +As he nerved him for the stroke! +"Now for Gideon and the Lord!" +He said--then sudden dropped the sword, +As from a palsied arm; and pressed +His hand upon his heaving breast; +And the burning crimson streak +Faded from his altered cheek, +As he backward slowly stepped, +And turned away his head and wept. + + All unbidden to his eyes +Visions of his home arise: +The play-mates of his early years; +The spot that kindred love endears; +The sunny fields; the rugged rocks; +The valley where they fed their flocks; +The still, deep stream; the drooping pride +Of willows weeping o'er the tide. +And are they gone--the young and brave, +Who oft in sport had stemmed that wave? +When, fainting from the mid-day heat, +They sought at noon that cool retreat; +While one among the youthful throng +Poured forth his ardent soul in song, +And bade his harp's wild numbers tell +How Israel fled and Egypt fell! + + Proudly then Zalmunna spoke: +"Dost thou think we dread the stroke +Doomed to stretch us on the plain +With the brave in battle slain? +Leave yon tender boy to shed +Tear-drops o'er the tombless dead: +Like the mighty chiefs of old, +Thou art cast in sterner mould. +Rise, then, champion of the Lord, +Rise! and slay us with the sword: +Life from thee we scorn to crave, +Midian would not live a slave! +But when Judah's harp shall raise +Songs to celebrate thy praise, +Let the bards of Israel tell +How Zebah and Zalmunna fell!" + + + + +PARAPHRASE. + +PSALM XLIV. + + +O mighty God! our fathers told + The wondrous works thou didst of yore; +Thy glories in the days of old, + Wrought on proud Egypt's hostile shore. +Thy wrath swept through that guilty land; + Before thy face the heathen fled; +His people, with an outstretched hand, + The Lord of Hosts in triumph led! + +It was not counsel, spear, nor sword, + A heritage for Israel won; +It was Jehovah's awful word + That led our conquering armies on. +The heathen host--their warriors brave-- + Were scattered when the Lord arose; +At his terrific glance, a grave + Was found by Jacob's haughty foes! + +God of our strength! Almighty Power! + Our sure defence, our sword and shield, +Still guide our hosts in danger's hour, + Still lead our armies to the field. +In thee we trust--what foe can stand + The awful brightness of thine eye? +Both life and death are in thy hand, + And in thy smile is victory! + + + + +PARAPHRASE. + +ISAIAH XL. + + +Rejoice O my people! Jehovah hath spoken! +The dark chain of sin and oppression is broken; +Thy warfare is over, thy bondage is past, +The Lord hath looked down on his chosen at last. +A voice from the wilderness breaks on mine ear-- +O Israel, rejoice! thy redemption is near: +A path for our God the wild desert shall yield; +He comes in the light of salvation revealed; +His word hath declared, who speaks not in vain; +He bends the high mountain, exalts the low plain; +All flesh shall behold him, far nations shall bring +Their glad songs of triumph to welcome their King! + + As the grass of the field in the morning is green, +So man, in his beauty and vigour, is seen +A perishing glory, the beam of a day, +A flower that will fade with the evening away: +The breath of the Lord o'er its verdure shall pass; +The freshness shall wither and fade like the grass; +The flower from its stem the rude whirlwind may sever, +But the word of our God is established for ever! + + O Zion, that bringeth good tidings of peace, +Raise thy voice in the song, thy afflictions shall cease; +Arise in thy strength, banish every base fear, +Tell the cities of Judah redemption is near: +He comes! and his works shall his glory reveal; +He comes! his lost children to succour and heal; +In mercy and truth to establish his throne, +That his name to the ends of the earth may be known! + + + + +THE VISION OF +DRY BONES. + +EZEKIEL XXXVII. + + +The Spirit of God with resistless control, +Like a sunbeam, illumined the depths of my soul, +And visions prophetical burst on my sight, +As he carried me forth in the power of his might. +Around me I saw in a desolate heap +The relics of those who had slept their death-sleep, +In the midst of the valley, all reckless and bare, +Like the hope of my country, lie withering there,-- + +"Son of man! can these dry bones, long bleached in decay, +Ever feel in their flesh the warm beams of the day; +Can the spirit of life ever enter again +The perishing heaps that now whiten the plain?" +"Lord, thou knowest alone, who their being first gave: +Thy power may be felt in the depths of the grave; +The hand that created again may impart +The rich tide of feeling and life to the heart. + +"Lo, these dry bones are withered and shrunk in the blast, +O'er their ashes the tempests of ages have past; +And the flesh that once covered each mouldering frame +With the dust of the earth is re-mingled again:-- +At the voice of their God, son of man, they shall rise; +The light shall revisit their death-darkened eyes; +Their sinews and flesh shall again be restored, +They shall live and acknowledge the power of the Lord!" + +And lo! as I prophesied o'er them, a sound, +Like the rushing of water, was heard all around: +The earth trembled and shook like a leaf in the wind, +As those long-severed limbs to each other were joined, +And flesh came upon them, and beauty and grace +Returned, as in life, to each warrior's face. +A numberless host they lay stretched on the sod, +All glowing and fresh from the hand of their God. + +But the deep sleep of death on each eyelid still hung; +Each figure was motionless, mute every tongue: +Through those slumbering thousands there breathed not a sound, +And silence, unbroken, reigned awfully round:-- +"Raise thy voice, son of man! call the winds from on high, +As viewless they sweep o'er the brow of the sky; +And life shall return on the wings of the blast, +And the slumber of death shall be broken at last." + +I called to the wind--and a deep answer came +In the rush of the tempest, the bursting of flame; +And the spirit of life, as it breathed on the dead, +Restored to each body the soul that had fled. +Rejoicing to break from that dreamless repose, +Like a host in the dark day of battle they rose; +He alone who had formed them could number again +The myriads that filled all the valley and plain. + +"Son of man! in this numerous army behold +My chosen of Israel, beloved of old. +_They say_ that the hope of existence is o'er, +That no power from death's grasp can the spirit restore: +He who called you my people is mighty to save, +Your God can re-open the gates of the grave; +From the chain of oblivion the soul can release, +And restore you again to your country in peace!" + + + + +THE +DESTRUCTION OF BABYLON. + + +An awful vision floats before my sight, +Black as the storm and fearful as the night: +Thy fall, oh Babylon!--the awful doom +Pronounced by Heaven to hurl thee to the tomb, +Peals in prophetic thunder in mine ear-- +The voice of God foretelling ruin near! + + Hark! what strange murmurs from the hills arise, +Like rushing torrents from the bursting skies! +Loud as the billows of the restless tide, +In strange confusion flowing far and wide, +Ring the deep tones of horror and dismay, +The shriek--the shout--the battle's stern array-- +The gathering cry of nations from afar-- +The tramp of steeds--the tumult of the war-- +Burst on mine ear, and o'er thy fated towers +Hovers despair, and fierce destruction lowers; +Within the fire--without the vengeful sword; +Who leads those hosts against thee but the Lord? + + Proud queen of nations! where is now thy trust?-- +Thy crown is ashes and thy throne the dust. +The crowds who fill thy gates shall pass away, +As night's dim shadows flee the eye of day. +No patriot voice thy glory shall recall, +No eye shall weep, no tongue lament thy fall. + + The day of vengeance comes--the awful hour-- +Fraught with the terrors of almighty power; +The arm of God is raised against thy walls; +Destruction hovers o'er thy princely halls, +Flings his red banner to the rising wind, +While death's stern war-cry echoes far behind. +When the full horrors of that hour are felt, +The warrior's heart shall as the infant's melt; +Counsel shall flee the learned and the old, +And fears unfelt before shall tame the bold. + + Woe for thee, Babylon!--thy men of might +Shall fall unhonoured in the sanguine fight; +Like the chased roe thy hosts disordered fly, +And those who turn to strive but turn to die. +Thy young men tremble and thy maids grow pale, +And swell with frantic grief thy funeral wail; +They kneel for mercy, but they sue in vain; +Their beauty withers on the gore-dyed plain; +With fathers, lovers, brothers, meet their doom, +And 'mid thy blackened ruins find a tomb. +Of fear unconscious, in soft slumbers blest, +The infant dies upon its mother's breast, +Unpitied e'en by her--the hand that gave +The blow has sent the parent to the grave. + + Queen of the East! all desolate and lone, +No more shall nations bow before thy throne. +Low in the dust thy boasted beauty lies; +Loud through thy princely domes the bittern cries, +And the night wind in mournful cadence sighs. +The step of man and childhood's joyous voice +Are heard no more, and never shall rejoice +Thy lonely echoes; savage beasts shall come +And find among thy palaces a home. +The dragon there shall rear her scaly brood, +And satyrs dance where once thy temples stood; +The lion, roaming on his angry way, +Shall on thy sacred altars rend his prey; +The distant _isles_ at midnight gloom shall hear +Their frightful clamours, and, in secret, fear. + + No more their snowy flocks shall shepherds lead +By Babel's silver stream and fertile mead; +Or peasant girls at summer's eve repair, +To wreathe with wilding flowers their flowing hair; +Or pour their plaintive ditties to the wave, +That rolls its sullen murmurs o'er thy grave. +The wandering Arab there no rest shall find, +But, starting, listen to the hollow wind +That howls, prophetic, through thy ruined halls, +And flee in haste from thy accursed walls. +Oh Babylon, with wrath encompassed round, +For thee no hope, no mercy, shall be found: +Thy doom is sealed--e'en to thy ruin clings +The awful sentence of the King of kings! + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF +MRS. EWING. + +WRITTEN AFTER PERUSING THE INTERESTING MEMOIR COMPOSED +BY HER HUSBAND, THE REV. GREVILLE EWING. + + +Daughter of Scotland! may a stranger twine + One cypress wreath around thy honoured urn?-- +Yet, when I meditate on faith like thine, + I feel my breast with sacred ardour burn; +Deep admiration checks the starting tear,-- +Such drops would stain a Ewing's holy bier! + +Death was to thee a messenger of love; + He met thee in the path thy Saviour trod, +Bearing this blessed mandate from above, + "Come, happy spirit--come away to God! +Thy works of piety on earth are o'er,-- +Plume thy bright wing to reach the heavenly shore!" + +Calm was thy exit from this troubled scene; + Pain from thy lips no hasty murmurs wrung; +With brow unruffled and with mind serene, + Thy Saviour's praise employed thy faltering tongue: +And though no kindling raptures marked thy flight, +Thy faith unshaken _showed that all was right_! + +Those who beheld thee in the burning hour, + When fever raged in every throbbing vein, +Oft shall recount the parting struggle o'er, + The scene on memory's tablets long retain-- +Each gracious word, each kindly glance, that told +The Christian's love, ere that warm heart was cold! + +Thy memory is a pure and holy thing, + Embalmed and treasured in the hearts of those +Who saw thee, like an angel, ministering + The precious balm that softens human woes. +Thou didst not hide thy talent in the dust; +Anxious that all should own the same high trust.-- + +Deeply concerned that other realms should share + Those blessed promises so dear to thee,-- +That messengers of mercy should declare + Glad tidings far beyond thy native sea;-- +Thy bounteous spirit compassed land and wave +To send redemption to the soil-bound slave! + +But not to foreign realms and climes alone + Didst thou confine a Christian's sacred zeal; +With all a mother's fondness for thine own, + The deep devotion faith alone could feel, +'Twas thine the drooping penitent to cheer, +And wipe from sorrow's eyes the gushing tear! + +And like the faithful saints and priests of old, + Thou with thy honoured partner didst go forth, +Exploring barren heath and mountain hold, + Far through the isles and highlands of the north, +To teach the Gospel in each rocky glen, +And bless with Scripture truths unlearned men! + +Thy zeal was felt along the rugged wild, + Heard round the hearth where pious maidens meet; +And matrons oft shall tell the rosy child, + Twining its wilding garlands at their feet, +To bless her name--who, conquering selfish pride, +Sought them on foot to tell how Jesus died! + +Daughter of Scotland! when her bards shall trace + The noble deeds of thy illustrious line, +Thy sainted name a fairer page shall grace, + A brighter wreath for thee the minstrel twine +Than ever crowned thy warlike sires of yore, +Than history ever gave or genius wore! + + + + +TO THE MEMORY +OF +R. R. JUN. + +LATE OF IPSWICH, AND ONE OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. + + +From thy sad sire and weeping kindred torn, + Thine is the crown of everlasting life; +On thy closed eye has burst a brighter morn, + In realms where joy and peace alone are rife; +Thy soul, in Christ, enlightened and new-born, + Has meekly triumphed over nature's strife, +And passed the dreary portals of the grave, +Strong in the faith of Him who died to save! + +Soldier of Christ! thy warfare now is o'er, + Thy toils accomplished and thy trials done, +And thou shalt weep and sigh, young saint, no more; + With thee the scene is closed, the race is run. +Death heaved the bar of that eternal door; + The palm is gained,--the victory is won, +And earthly sorrows shall no more alloy +Thy soul's pure raptures in those realms of joy! + +Ah! who would weep for thee?--the early blessed-- + Who that has mourned the tyranny of sin, +The strong temptations which assail the breast, + The fiery passions warring still within, +But does not envy thee thy heavenly rest, + And sighing, wish that they at length may win +The narrow path thy faith and patience trod, +And meet thee in the presence of thy God? + +Though friends who loved thee weep above thy bier, + And kindred anguish find in grief a voice, +We will not mourn thy exit from this sphere, + When angels in the heaven of heavens rejoice, +When God's own hand hath wiped away each tear, + And crowned with endless life thy happy choice. +Oh blessed lot--oh change with rapture fraught, +Surpassing human love--and human thought! + + + + +AN +APPEAL TO THE FREE. + + +Offspring of heaven, fair Freedom! impart +The light of thy spirit to quicken each heart. +Though the chains of oppression our free limbs ne'er bound, +Bid us feel for the wretch round whose soul they are wound; +Whose breast is corroded with anguish so deep +That the eye of the slave is too blood-shot to weep; +No balm from the fountain of nature will flow +When the mind is degraded by fetter and blow. + + The friends of humanity nobly have striven, +But the bonds of the heart-broken slave are unriven! +Whilst Religion extends o'er those champions her shield, +May they never to party or prejudice yield +The glorious cause by all freemen espoused. +A light shines abroad and the lion is roused; +The crush of the iron has struck fire from the stone; +Bid them back to the charge--and the field is their own! + + Ye children of Britain! brave sons of the Isles! +Who revel in freedom and bask in her smiles, +Can ye sanction such deeds as are done in the West +And sink on your pillows untroubled to rest? +Are your slumbers unbroken by visions of dread? +Does no spectre of misery glare on your bed? +No cry of despair break the silence of night +And thrill the cold hearts that ne'er throbbed for the right? + + Are ye fathers,--nor pity those children bereaved +Of the birth-right which man from his Maker received? +Are ye husbands,--and blest with affectionate wives, +The comfort, the solace, the joy of your lives,-- +And feel not for him whom a tyrant can sever +From the wife of his bosom and children for ever? +Are ye Christians, enlightened with precepts divine, +And suffer a brother in bondage to pine? +Are ye men, whom fair freedom has marked for her own, +Yet listen unmoved to the negro's deep groan? + + Ah no!--ye are slaves!--for the freeborn in mind +Are the children of mercy, the friends of mankind: +By no base, selfish motive their actions are weighed; +They barter no souls in an infamous trade; +They eat not the bread which is moistened by tears, +And carelessly talk of the bondage of years;-- +They feel as men should feel;--the clank of the chain +Bids them call upon Justice to cleave it in twain!-- + + + + +WAR. + + +Dark spirit! who through every age + Hast cast a baleful gloom; +Stern lord of strife and civil rage, + The dungeon and the tomb! +What homage should men pay to thee, +Spirit of woe and anarchy? + +Yet there are those who in thy train + Can feel a fierce delight; +Who rush, exulting, to the plain, + And triumph in the fight, +Where the red banner floats afar +Along the crimson tide of war. + +Who is the knight on sable steed, + That comes with thundering tread? +Dark warrior, slack thy furious speed, + Nor trample on the dead: +A youthful chief before thee lies, +Struggling in life's last agonies. + +Oh pause one moment in thy course, + Those lineaments to trace; +Dost thou not feel a strange remorse, + Whilst gazing on that face, +Where grace and manly beauty meet, +To die beneath thy courser's feet? + +Those sunny tresses scattered wide, + And soiled with dust and blood, +Were once a mother's fondest pride, + When at her knee he stood, +A rosy, playful, laughing boy, +Her lonely heart's sole hope and joy. + +But youth a glowing vision brought, + And whispered glory's name, +Renown, with every burning thought + Linked to ambition, came: +Like a young war-horse in his might, +He panted for the desperate fight. + +For civil discord rent the land, + His warrior sire, afar, +Against his sovereign raised the brand, + The leader of the war: +By honour fired the stripling draws +His weapon in the royal cause. + +Stretched bleeding on the battle-field + His first, last strife is done; +No more his hand the sword shall wield, + His eyes behold the sun, +Or his pale lips repeat the cry, +The thrilling shout of victory!-- + +He struggles yet--the strife is o'er-- + The soul hath winged its flight, +Again beholds its native shore, + A spirit robed in light. +What now avail his mother's cares-- +Her silent tears--her nightly prayers? + +On that young soldier's prostrate form + The warrior grimly smiled, +As if he viewed in secret scorn + That face so fair and mild; +Why springs he to the fatal plain +To gaze upon that form again? + +Why does his eye in frenzy roll? + Why is his clenched hand raised? +What thought quick rushed across his soul, + When on that boy he gazed? +His quivering lip and swollen brow +His mental agonies avow. + +Can sorrow touch that iron heart, + So long to mercy steeled? +From those fierce eyes the big drops start, + He sinks upon the field. +Night closes round, the strife is done, +That warrior sleeps beside his son! + + + + +THE EARTHQUAKE. + + +There was no sound in earth or air, + And soft the moonbeams smiled +On stately tower and temple fair, + Like mother o'er her child; +And all was hushed in the deep repose +That welcomes the summer evening's close. + +Many an eye that day had wept, + And many a cheek with joy grew bright, +Which now, alike unconscious, slept + Beneath the wan moonlight; +And mandolin and gay guitar +Had ceased to woo the evening star. + +The lover has sought his couch again, + And the maiden's eyes no longer glisten, +As she comes to the lattice to catch his strain, + And sighs while she bends to smile and listen. +She sleeps, but her rosy lips still move, +And in dreams she answers the voice of love. + +Sleep on, ye thoughtless and giddy train, + Sorrow comes with the dawning ray; +Ye never shall wake to joy again, + Or your gay laugh gladden the rising day: +Death sits brooding above your towers, +And destruction rides on the coming hours.-- + +The day has dawned--but not a breath + Sighs through the sultry air; +The heavens above and earth beneath + One gloomy aspect wear-- +Horror and doubt and wild dismay +Welcome the dawn of that fatal day. + +Hark!--'tis not the thunder's lengthened peal! + Hark!--'tis not the winds that rise; +Or the heavy crush of the laden wheel, + That echoes through the skies-- +'Tis the sound that gives the earthquake birth! +'Tis the heavy groans of the rending earth! + +Oh, there were shrieks of wild affright, + And sounds of hurrying feet, +And men who cursed the lurid light, + Whose glance they feared to meet: +And some sunk down in mute despair +On the parched earth, and perished there.-- + +It comes!--it comes!--that lengthened shock-- + The earth before it reels-- +The stately towers and temples rock, + The dark abyss reveals +Its fiery depths--the strife is o'er, +The city sinks to rise no more. + +She has passed from earth like a fearful dream;-- + Where her pomp and splendour rose, +There runs a dark and turbid stream, + And a sable cloud its shadow throws; +Pale sorrow broods in silence there, +To mourn the perished things that were. + + + + +LINES + +WRITTEN AMIDST THE RUINS OF A CHURCH ON THE +COAST OF SUFFOLK. + + +"What hast thou seen in the olden time, + Dark ruin, lone and gray?" +"Full many a race from thy native clime, + And the bright earth, pass away. +The organ has pealed in these roofless aisles, + And priests have knelt to pray +At the altar, where now the daisy smiles + O'er their silent beds of clay. + +"I've seen the strong man a wailing child, + By his mother offered here; +I've seen him a warrior fierce and wild; + I've seen him on his bier, +His warlike harness beside him laid + In the silent earth to rust; +His plumed helm and trusty blade + To moulder into dust! + +"I've seen the stern reformer scorn + The things once deemed divine, +And the bigot's zeal with gems adorn + The altar's sacred shrine. +I've seen the silken banners wave + Where now the ivy clings, +And the sculptured stone adorn the grave + Of mitred priests and kings. + +"I've seen the youth in his tameless glee, + And the hoary locks of age, +Together bend the pious knee, + To read the sacred page; +I've seen the maid with her sunny brow + To the silent dust go down, +The soil-bound slave forget his woe, + The king resign his crown. + +"Ages have fled--and I have seen + The young--the fair--the gay-- +Forgot as if they ne'er had been, + Though worshipped in their day: +And school-boys here their revels keep, + And spring from grave to grave, +Unconscious that beneath them sleep + The noble and the brave. + +"Here thousands find a resting place + Who bent before this shrine; +Their dust is here--their name and race, + Oblivion; now are thine! +The prince--the peer--the peasant sleeps + Alike beneath the sod; +Time o'er their dust short record keeps, + Forgotten save by God! + +"I've seen the face of nature change, + And where the wild waves beat, +The eye delightedly might range + O'er many a goodly seat; +But hill, and dale, and forest fair, + Are whelmed beneath the tide. +They slumber here--who could declare + Who owned those manors wide! + +"All thou hast felt--these sleepers knew; + For human hearts are still +In every age to nature true, + And swayed by good or ill: +By passion ruled and born to woe, + Unceasing tears they shed; +But thou must sleep, like them, to know + The secrets of the dead!" + + + + +THE OLD ASH TREE. + + +Thou beautiful Ash! thou art lowly laid, + And my eyes shall hail no more +From afar thy cool and refreshing shade, + When the toilsome journey's o'er. +The winged and the wandering tribes of air + A home 'mid thy foliage found, +But thy graceful boughs, all broken and bare, + The wild winds are scattering round. + +The storm-demon sent up his loudest shout + When he levelled his bolt at thee, +When thy massy trunk and thy branches stout + Were riven by the blast, old tree! +It has bowed to the dust thy stately form, + Which for many an age defied +The rush and the roar of the midnight storm, + When it swept through thy branches wide. + +I have gazed on thee with a fond delight + In childhood's happier day, +And watched the moonbeams of a summer night + Through thy quivering branches play. +I have gathered the ivy wreaths that bound + Thy old fantastic roots, +And wove the wild flowers that blossomed round + With spring's first tender shoots. + +And when youth with its glowing visions came, + Thou wert still my favourite seat; +And the ardent dreams of future fame + Were formed at thy hoary feet. +Farewell--farewell--the wintry wind + Has waged unsparing war on thee, +And only pictured on my mind + Remains thy form, time-honoured tree! + + + + +THE NAMELESS GRAVE. + +WRITTEN IN COVE CHURCH-YARD; AND OCCASIONED BY OBSERVING +MY OWN SHADOW THROWN ACROSS A GRAVE. + + + "Tell me, thou grassy mound, + What dost thou cover? + In thy folds hast thou bound + Soldier or lover? +Time o'er the turf no memorial is keeping +Who in this lone grave forgotten is sleeping?"-- + + "The sun's westward ray + A dark shadow has thrown + On this dwelling of clay, + And the shade is thine own! +From dust and oblivion this stern lesson borrow-- +Thou art living to-day and forgotten to-morrow!" + + + + +THE PAUSE. + + +There is a pause in nature, ere the storm + Rushes resistless in its awful might; +There is a softening twilight, ere the morn + Expands her wings of glory into light. + +There is a sudden stillness in the heart, + Ere yet the tears of wounded feeling flow; +A speechless expectation, ere the dart + Of sorrow lays our fondest wishes low. + +There is a dreamy silence in the mind, + Ere yet it wakes to energy of thought; +A breathless pause of feeling, undefined, + Ere the bright image is from fancy caught. + +There is a pause more holy still, + When Faith a brighter hope has given, +And, soaring over earthly ill, + The soul looks up to heaven! + + + + +UNCERTAINTY. + + +Oh dread uncertainty! +Life-wasting agony! +How dost thou pain the heart, +Causing such tears to start, +As sorrow never shed +O'er hopes for ever fled. +For memory hoards up joy +Beyond Time's dull alloy; +Pleasures that once have been +Shed light upon the scene, +As setting suns fling back +A bright and glowing track, +To show they once have cast +A glory o'er the past; +But thou, tormenting fiend, +Beneath Hope's pinions screened, +Leagued with distrust and pain, +Makest her promise vain; +Weaving in life's fair crown +Thistles instead of down. + + Who would not rather know +Present than coming woe? +For certain sorrow brings +A healing in its wings. +The softening touch of years +Still dries the mourner's tears; +For human minds inherit +A gay, elastic spirit, +Which rises in the hour +Of trial, with such power, +That men, with wonder, find +Sorrow is less unkind; +That human hearts can bear +All evils but despair, +Or that anticipated grief +Which, for a season, mocks relief. + + Uncertainty still clings +To earth's fair but fleeting things; +And mortals vainly trust +In fabrics formed of dust! +We look into life's waste, +And tread its paths in haste; +The past--for ever flown; +The present--scarce our own; +While, cold and dim, before +Stretches the shadowy shore, +The dark futurity, which lies +Beyond the glance of mortal eyes, +Wrapped in the mystic gloom +Which canopies the tomb. +But faith can pour a light +On the spirit's earthly night, +And break that sullen shroud; +As a star bursts through the cloud, +To show the upward eye +The clear, but distant, sky; +The land of joy and peace, +Where doubts and sorrows cease. + + + + +THE WARNING. + + +When the eye whose kind beam was the beacon of gladness + From the glance of a lover turns coldly away, +O'er the bright sun of hope float the dark clouds of sadness, + And youth's lovely visions recede with the ray. +Oh turn not where pleasure's wild meteor is beaming, + And night's dreary shades wear the splendour of day, +To the rich festive board where the red wine is streaming;-- + Can the dance and the song disappointment allay? + +Oh heed not the Syren! for virtue is weeping + Where passion is struggling her victim to chain, +And Conscience, deep drugged, in her soft lap is sleeping, + Till startled by memory and quickened by pain. +Oh heed not the minstrel, when music is breathing + In the cold ear of fashion his heart-searching strain; +And pluck not the rose round Love's diadem wreathing; + The garland by beauty is woven in vain. + +The pleasures of life, like its moments, are fleeting; + Oh let not its trifles your firm purpose move; +But think as those moments are slowly retreating, + How feebly against its enchantments you strove: +Then turn from the world, and, its follies forsaking, + Raise your eyes to the day-star of gladness above; +There's a balm for each wound, though the fond heart is breaking, + A Lethé divine in the fountain of Love! + + + + +LINES +ON A +NEW-BORN INFANT.[A] + + +Like a dew-drop from heaven in the ocean of life, + From the morn's rosy diadem falling, +A stranger as yet to the storms and the strife, + Dear babe, of thy earthly calling! + +Thine eyes have unclosed on this valley of tears; + Hark! that cry is the herald of anguish and woe; +Thy young spirit finds a deep voice for its fears, + Prophetic of all that is passing below. + +How short will the term of thy ignorance be! + The winds and the tempests will rise, +And passion will cover with wrecks the calm sea, +On whose surface no shadow now lies. + +Unclouded and fair is the morn of thy birth, + The first lovely day in a season of gloom; +Whilst a pilgrim and stranger thou treadest this earth, + May the sunbeams of hope gild thy path to the tomb. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: Infant son (since dead) of Mr. James Bird, author of the +_Vale of Slaughden_.] + + + + +THE +CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S LAMENT. + +THE FOLLOWING LITTLE POEM WAS SUGGESTED BY A PASSAGE IN THE +MEMOIRS OF THE LATE MRS. SUSAN HUNTINGTON OF BOSTON, NEW +ENGLAND. + + +Ah! cold at my feet thou art sleeping, my boy, + And I press on thy pale lips, in vain, the fond kiss; +Earth opens her arms to receive thee, my joy! + And all I have suffered was nothing to this: +The day-star of hope 'neath thine eyelids is sleeping, +No more to arise at the voice of my weeping. + +Oh, how art thou changed!--since the light breath of morning + Dispelled the soft dew-drops in showers from the tree, +Like a beautiful bud, my lone dwelling adorning, + Thy smiles called up feelings of rapture in me; +I thought not the sunbeams all brightly that shone +On thy waking, at eve would behold me alone. + +The joy that flashed out from those death-shrouded eyes, + That laughed in thy dimples and brightened thy cheek, +Is quenched--but the smile on thy pale lip that lies, + Now tells of a joy that no language can speak. +The fountain is sealed, the young spirit at rest, +Ah, why should I mourn thee--my loved one--my blest? + + + + +THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.[B] + + +Sorrow has touched thee, my beautiful boy! +And dimmed the bright eyes that were dancing with joy; +Thy ruby lips tremble, thy soft cheek is wet, +The tears on its roses are lingering yet. +On thy quick-heaving heart is thy little hand pressed; +There is care on thy brow--there is grief in thy breast, +And slowly and darkly the shadow steals o'er thee, +For the first time the vision of death is before thee! + +Meet emblem of childhood--that innocent dove +Was the sharer alike of thy sports and thy love; +Thy playmate is dead--and that tenantless cage +Has stamped the first grief upon memory's page. +And oh!--thou art weeping--Life's fountain of tears, +Once unchained, will flow on through the desert of years; +No joy will e'er equal thy first dawn of bliss, +No sorrow blot out the remembrance of this! + +Though reason may smile at the anguish which now +Convulses thy bosom and darkens thy brow; +The period may come, in thy journey through life, +When sick of its falsehood, corruption, and strife, +Thou vainly shall seek in thy desolate track +To bring those sweet feelings and sympathies back; +And thy spirit will murmur, when vexed and reviled, +Oh would I could weep--as I wept when a child! + +But let us not darken the landscape with gloom, +And fling round the cradle the shade of the tomb, +The sorrows of youth are like April's rash showers, +Which though rapidly shed, strew our pathway with flowers: +On the soft downy cheek, while the tear glistens bright, +The young heart is leaping, all wild with delight; +The glance of a sunbeam will banish its pain, +And it joyously breaks into laughter again! + +Oh, our early impressions are never forgot-- +And the wide earth contains not so lovely a spot +As the fields that encircled the home of our youth, +With all its dear visions of beauty and truth: +No meads are so green, and no flowers are so fair +As the wildings we gathered and garlanded there; +And the dim eye grows bright whilst recounting the joy, +The sorrows, and trials, and sports of the boy! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote B: Written to illustrate a plate by Westall, in _Friendship's +Offering_, for 1830. To those who have not seen the picture, it may be +proper to state, that the subject is a child weeping over a dead dove.] + + + + +THE +LAMENT OF THE DISAPPOINTED. + + +"When will the grave fling her cold arms around me, + And earth on her dark bosom pillow my head? +Sorrow and trouble and anguish, have found me, + Oh that I slumbered in peace with the dead! + +"The forests are budding, the fruit-trees in bloom, + And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; +But my soul is bowed down by the spirit of gloom, + I no longer rejoice as the blossoms expand. + +"And April is here with her rich varied skies, + Where the sunbeams of hope with the tempest contend, +And the bright drops that flow from her deep azure eyes + On the bosom of nature like diamonds descend. + +"She scatters her jewels o'er forest and lea, + And casts in earth's lap all the wealth of the year; +But the promise she brings wakes no transports in me, + Still the landscape looks dim through the fast flowing tear." + +Thus sung a poor exile, whom Sorrow had banished + From Joy's golden halls, in those moments when care +Struck deep in her soul and Hope's sunny smiles vanished, + And her spirit grew dark 'neath the scowl of despair. + +But oh! there's a balm e'en for anguish like thine, + And He who permitted the evil has given, +In exchange for this lost earth, an Eden divine, + Revealing to man all the glories of heaven. + +Then hush these vain murmurs, arise from the dust, + Submit to the hand who the dark chain can sever +Of sorrow and sin:--God is faithful and just-- + Oh seek but his face and be happy for ever! + + + + +HYMN +OF THE CONVALESCENT. + + +My eyes have seen another spring + In floral beauty rise, +And happy birds on gladsome wing + Flit through the azure skies. +Though sickness bowed my feeble frame + Through winter's cheerless hours, +Life's sinking torch resumes its flame + With renovated powers. + +Once more on nature's ample shrine, + Beneath the spreading boughs, +With lifted hands and hopes divine + I offer up my vows. +My incense is the breath of flowers, + Perfuming all the air; +My pillared fane these woodland bowers, + A heaven-built house of prayer; + +My fellow-worshippers, the gay, + Free songsters of the grove, +Who to the closing eye of day + Warble their hymns of love. +The low and dulcet lyre of spring, + Swept by the vagrant breeze, +Borne far on echo's spreading wing + Stirs all the budding trees-- + +Again I catch the cuckoo's note + That faintly murmurs near, +The mingled melodies that float + To rapture's listening ear. +While April like a virgin pale + Retreats with modest grace, +And blushing through her tearful veil + Just shows her cherub face. + +'Tis but a momentary gleam + From those young laughing eyes, +Yet, like a meteor's passing beam, + It lights up earth, and skies: +But, ere the sun exhales the dew + That sparkles on the grass, +Dark clouds flit o'er the smiling blue, + Like shadows o'er a glass. + +But ah! upon the musing mind + Those varied smiles and tears, +Like words of love but half defined, + Give birth to hopes and fears. +The joyful heart one moment bounds, + Then feels a sudden chill, +Whispering in vague uncertain sounds + Presentiments of ill. + +When dire disease an arrow sent, + And thrilled my breast with pain, +My mind was like a bow unbent, + Or harp-strings after rain; +I could not weep--I could not pray, + Nor raise my thoughts on high, +Till light from heaven, like April's ray, + Broke through the stormy sky! + + + + +YOUTH AND AGE. + + +YOUTH. + +Pilgrim of life! thy hoary head + Is bent with age, thine eye +Looks downward to the silent dead, + Wreck of mortality!-- +The friends who flourished in thy day + Have sought their narrow home; +Their spirits whisper, "Come away!"-- + + +AGE. + + My soul replies, I come.-- +I tread the path I trod a child, + The fields I loved of yore; +The flowers that 'neath my footsteps smiled + Now meet my gaze no more. +I stand beneath this giant oak! + It was an aged tree, +Hollowed by time's resistless stroke, + When life was green with me. +Its lofty head it proudly rears + To greet the summer sky, +Whilst, bending with the weight of years, + I feebly totter by. +And hushed are all the thousand songs + That filled these branches high: +Echo no more for me prolongs + The woodland minstrelsy. +Silence has gathered round life's hall; + My friends are in the clay; +I hear no more the footsteps fall, + That cheered my early day; +I see no more the faces dear, + Which shone around my hearth: +Bereft of all--I sojourn here-- + Still happy, though on earth!-- + + +YOUTH. + +And canst thou smile when all are gone + Who shared thy youthful prime; +Content to wait and watch alone, + To grapple still with time? +How comes it that thou thus below + Hast rest above the sod, +Which brings to memory scenes of woe? + + +AGE. + + It is the will of God! + + + + +MARY HUME. + +A BALLAD. + + +"He will come to night," young Mary said, + And checked the rising sigh; +And gazed on the stars that o'er her head + Shone out in the deep blue sky. +"Heaven speed his voyage!--though absent long, + The painful vigil's o'er-- +The skies are clear--the breeze is strong-- + We meet to part no more!" + +While yet she spoke a sudden chill + O'er her ardent spirit crept; +A sad presentiment of ill-- + She turned away and wept. +Far off the sigh of ocean stole-- + The sweeping of the sounding surge-- +In plaintive murmurs o'er her soul, + Like wailing of a funeral dirge. + +And in the wind there is a tone + Which whispers to her sinking heart-- +"Mary we meet in death alone; + In realms of bliss no more to part." +The moon has sunk in her ocean cave, + Fled are the shades of night, +And morning bursts on the purple wave + In floods of golden-light. + +The sudden stroke of the village bell + Checks the fisher's blithesome song; +He pauses to hear how rock and fell + Its sullen tones prolong. +"Some soul to its last account has sped: + Dost thou hear that solemn sound?" +"'Tis Mary Hume!"--his comrade said-- + "Last night her love was drowned!" + + + + +THE SPIRIT OF MOTION. + + +Spirit of eternal motion! +Ruler of the stormy ocean, +Lifter of the restless waves, +Rider of the blast that raves +Hoarsely through yon lofty oak, +Bending to thy mystic stroke; +Man from age to age has sought +Thy secret--but it baffles thought! + + Agent of the Deity! +Offspring of eternity, +Guider of the steeds of time +Along the starry track sublime, +Founder of each wondrous art, +Mover of the human heart; +Since the world's primeval day +All nature has confessed thy sway. + + They who strive thy laws to find +Might as well arrest the wind, +Measure out the drops of rain, +Count the sands which bound the main, +Quell the earthquake's sullen shock, +Chain the eagle to the rock, +Bid the sun his heat assuage, +The mountain torrent cease to rage. +Spirit, active and divine-- +Life and all its powers are thine! +Guided by the first great cause, +Sun and moon obey thy laws, +Which to man must ever be +A wonder and a mystery, +Known alone to him who gave +Thee sovereignty o'er wind and wave +And only chained thee in the grave! + + + + +LINES +WRITTEN DURING +A GALE OF WIND. + + +Oh nature! though the blast is yelling, + Loud roaring through the bending tree, +There's sorrow in man's darksome dwelling, + There's rapture still with thee! + +I gaze upon the clouds wind-driven, + The white storm-crested deep; +My heart with human cares is riven-- + O'er these--I cannot weep. + +'Tis not the rush of wave or wind + That wakes my anxious fears, +That presses on my troubled mind, + And fills my eyes with tears; + +I feel the icy breath of sorrow + My ardent spirit chill, +The dark--dark presage of the morrow, + The sense of coming ill. + +I hear the mighty billows rave; + There's music in their roar, +When strong in wrath the wind-lashed wave + Springs on the groaning shore; + +A solemn pleasure in the tone + That shakes the lonely woods, +As winter mounts his icy throne + 'Mid storms and wasting floods. + +The trumpet of the angry blast + Peals loud o'er earth and main; +The elemental strife is past, + The heavens are bright again. + +And shall I doubt the healing power + Of Him who lives to save, +Who in this dark appalling hour + Can silence wind and wave? + +Almighty Ruler of the storm! + One beam of grace display, +And the fierce tempests that deform + My soul, shall pass away. + + + + +THE +SPIRIT OF THE SPRING. + + +The spirit of the shower, + Of the sunshine and the breeze, +Of the dewy twilight hour, +Of the bud and opening flower, + My soul delighted sees. +Stern winter's robe of gray, + Beneath thy balmy sigh, +Like mist-wreaths melt away, +When the rosy laughing day + Lifts up his golden eye.-- + +Spirit of ethereal birth, + Thy azure banner floats, +In lucid folds, o'er air and earth, +And budding woods pour forth their mirth + In rapture-breathing notes. +I see upon the fleecy cloud + The spreading of thy wings; +The hills and vales rejoice aloud, +And Nature, starting from her shroud, + To meet her bridegroom springs. + +Spirit of the rainbow zone, + Of the fresh and breezy morn,-- +Spirit of climes where joy alone +For ever hovers round thy throne, + On wings of light upborne, +Eternal youth is in thy train + With rapture-beaming eyes, +And Beauty, with her magic chain, +And Hope, that laughs at present pain, + Points up to cloudless skies. + +Spirit of love, of life, and light! + Each year we hail thy birth-- +The day-star from the grave of night +That set to rise in skies more bright,-- + To bless the sons of earth +With leaf--and bud--and perfumed flower, + Still deck the barren sod; +In thee we trace a higher power, +In thee we claim a brighter dower, + The day-spring of our God!-- + + + + +O COME TO THE MEADOWS. + + +O come to the meadows! I'll show you where + Primrose and violet blow, +And the hawthorn spreads its blossoms fair, + White as the driven snow. +I'll show you where the daisies dot + With silver stars the lea, +The orchis, and forget-me-not, + The flower of memory! + +The gold-cup and the meadow-sweet, + That love the river's side, +The reed that bows the wave to meet, + And sighs above the tide. +The stately flag that gaily rears + Aloft its yellow crest, +The lily in whose cup the tears + Of morn delight to rest. + +The first in Nature's dainty wreath, + We'll cull the brier-rose, +The crowfoot and the purple heath, + And pink that sweetly blows. +The hare-bell with its airy flowers + Shall deck my Laura's breast,-- +Of all that bud in woodland bowers + I love the hare-bell best! + +I'll pull the bonny golden broom + To bind thy flowing hair; +For thee the eglantine shall bloom, + Whose fragrance fills the air. +We'll sit beside yon wooded knoll, + To hear the blackbird sing, +And fancy in his merry troll + The joyous voice of spring! + +We'll sit and watch the sparkling waves + That leap exulting by, +Whilst in the pines above us raves + The wind's wild minstrelsy. +It swells the echoes of the grove, + 'Tis Nature's plaintive voice; +The winds and waters breathe of love, + And all her tribes rejoice. + +Whilst youth, and hope, and health are ours, + We'll rove the verdant glade; +But ah! spring's sweetest, loveliest flowers, + Like us, but bloom to fade. +They spread their beauties to the sun, + And live their little day, +Then droop, and wither, one by one, + Till all are passed away. + +Already scattered in the dust + My first May garland lies; +The hope that owns a mortal trust, + As quickly fades and dies. +Then let us seek a brighter wreath + Than Nature here has given; +The flowers of virtue bud beneath, + But only bloom in heaven! + + + + +THOU WILT THINK OF ME, LOVE. + + +When these eyes, long dimmed with weeping, +In the silent dust are sleeping; +When above my narrow bed +The breeze shall wave the thistle's head-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +When the queen of beams and showers +Comes to dress the earth with flowers; +When the days are long and bright, +And the moon shines all the night-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +When the tender corn is springing, +And the merry thrush is singing; +When the swallows come and go, +On light wings flitting to and fro-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +When laughing childhood learns by rote +The cuckoo's oft-repeated note; +When the meads are fresh and green, +And the hawthorn buds are seen-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +When 'neath April's rainbow skies +Violets ope their purple eyes; +When mossy bank and verdant mound +Sweet knots of primroses have crowned-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +When the meadows glitter white, +Like a sheet of silver light; +When blue bells gay and cowslips bloom, +Sweet-scented brier, and golden broom-- + Thou wilt think of me, love! + +Each bud shall be to thee a token +Of a fond heart reft and broken; +And the month of joy and gladness +Shall but fill thy soul with sadness-- + And thou wilt sigh for me, love! + +When thou rov'st the woodland bowers, +Thou shalt cull spring's sweetest flowers, +And shalt strew with bitter weeping +The lonely bed where I am sleeping-- + And sadly mourn for me, love! + + + + +THE +FOREST RILL. + + +Young Naiad of the sparry grot, + Whose azure eyes before me burn, +In what sequestered lonely spot + Lies hid thy flower-enwreathed urn? +Beneath what mossy bank enshrined, + Within what ivy-mantled nook, +Sheltered alike from sun and wind, + Lies hid thy source, sweet murmuring brook? + +Deep buried lies thy airy shell + Beneath thy waters clear; +Far echoing up the woodland dell + Thy wind-swept harp I hear. +I catch its soft and mellow tones + Amid the long grass gliding, +Now broken 'gainst the rugged stones, + In hoarse, deep accents chiding. + +The wandering breeze that stirs the grove, + In plaintive moans replying, +To every leafy bough above + His tender tale is sighing; +Ruffled beneath his viewless wing + Thy wavelets fret and wimple, +Now forth rejoicingly they spring + In many a laughing dimple. + +To nature's timid lovely queen + Thy sylvan haunts are known; +She seeks thy rushy margin green + To weave her flowery zone; +Light waving o'er thy fairy flood + In all their vernal pride, +She sees her crown of opening buds + Reflected in the tide. + +On--on!--for ever brightly on! + Thy lucid waves are flowing, +Thy waters sparkle as they run, + Their long, long journey going; +Bright flashing in the noon-tide beam + O'er stone and pebble breaking, +And onward to some mightier stream + Their slender tribute taking. + +Oh such is life! a slender rill, + A stream impelled by Time; +To death's dark caverns flowing still, + To seek a brighter clime. +Though blackened by the stains of earth, + And broken be its course, +From life's pure fount we trace its birth, + Eternity its source! + +While floating down the tide of years, + The Christian will not mourn her lot; +There is a hand will dry her tears, + A land where sorrows are forgot. +Though in the crowded page of time + The record of her name may die, +'Tis traced in annals more sublime, + The volume of Eternity! + + + + +TO WATER LILIES. + + +Beautiful flowers! with your petals bright, +Ye float on the waves like spirits of light, +Wooing the zephyr that ruffles your leaves +With a gentle sigh, like a lover that grieves, +When his mistress, blushing, turns away +From his pleading voice and impassioned lay. + +Beautiful flowers! the sun's westward beam, +Still lingering, plays on the crystal stream, +And ye look like some Naiad's golden shrine, +That is lighted up with a flame divine; +Or a bark in which love might safely glide, +Impelled by the breeze o'er the purple tide. + +Beautiful flowers! how I love to gaze +On your glorious hues, in the noon-tide blaze, +And to see them reflected far below +In the azure waves, as they onward flow; +When the spirit who moves them sighing turns +Where his golden crown on the water burns. + +Beautiful flowers! in the rosy west +The sun has sunk in his crimson vest, +And the pearly tears of the weeping night +Have spangled your petals with gems of light, +And turned to stars every wandering beam +Which the pale moon throws on the silver stream. + +Beautiful flowers!--yet a little while, +And the sun on your faded buds shall smile; +And the balm-laden zephyr that o'er you sighed +Shall scatter your leaves o'er the glassy tide, +And the spirit that moved the stream shall spread +His lucid robe o'er your watery bed. + +Beautiful flowers! our youth is as brief +As the short-lived date of your golden leaf. +The summer will come, and each amber urn, +Like a love-lighted torch, on the waves shall burn; +But when the first bloom of our life is o'er +No after spring can its freshness restore, +But faith can twine round the hoary head +A garland of beauty when youth is fled! + + + + +AUTUMN. + + +Autumn, thy rushing blast + Sweeps in wild eddies by, +Whirling the sear leaves past, + Beneath my feet, to die. +Nature her requiem sings + In many a plaintive tone, +As to the wind she flings + Sad music, all her own. + +The murmur of the rill + Is hoarse and sullen now, +And the voice of joy is still + In grove and leafy bough. +There's not a single wreath, + Of all Spring's thousand flowers, +To strew her bier in death, + Or deck her faded bowers. + +I hear a spirit sigh + Where the meeting pines resound, +Which tells me all must die, + As the leaf dies on the ground. +The brightest hopes we cherish, + Which own a mortal trust, +But bloom awhile to perish + And moulder in the dust. + +Sweep on, thou rushing wind, + Thou art music to mine ear, +Awakening in my mind + A voice I love to hear. +The branches o'er my head + Send forth a tender moan; +Like the wail above the dead + Is that sad and solemn tone. + +Though all things perish here, + The spirit cannot die, +It owns a brighter sphere, + A home in yon fair sky. +The soul will flee away, + And when the silent clod +Enfolds my mouldering clay, + Shall live again with God; + +Where Autumn's chilly blast + Shall never strip the bowers, +Or icy Winter cast + A blight upon the flowers; +But Spring, in all her bloom, + For ever flourish there, +And the children of the tomb + Forget this world of care.-- + +The children who have passed + Death's tideless ocean o'er, +And Hope's blest anchor cast + On that bright eternal shore; +Who sought, through Him who bled + Their erring race to save, +A Sun, whose beams shall shed + A light upon the grave! + + + + +THE REAPERS' SONG. + + +The harvest is nodding on valley and plain, + To the scythe and the sickle its treasures must yield; +Through sunshine and shower we have tended the grain; + 'Tis ripe to our hand!--to the field--to the field! +If the sun on our labours too warmly should smile, +Why a horn of good ale shall the long hours beguile. +Then, a largess! a largess!--kind stranger, we pray, +We have toiled through the heat of the long summer day! + +With his garland of poppies red August is here, + And the forest is losing its first tender green; +Pale Autumn will reap the last fruits of the year, + And Winter's white mantle will cover the scene. +To the field!--to the field! whilst the Summer is ours +We will reap her ripe corn--we will cull her bright flowers. +Then, a largess! a largess! kind stranger, we pray, +For your sake we have toiled through the long summer day. + +Ere the first blush of morning is red in the skies, + Ere the lark plumes his wing, or the dew drops are dry, +Ere the sun walks abroad, must the harvestman rise, + With stout heart, unwearied, the sickle to ply: +He exults in his strength, when the ale-horn is crown'd, +And the reapers' glad shouts swell the echoes around. +Then, a largess! a largess!--kind stranger, we pray, +For your sake we have toiled through the long summer day! + + + + +WINTER. + + +Majestic King of storms! around + Thy wan and hoary brow +A spotless diadem is bound + Of everlasting snow: +Time, which dissolves all earthly things, +O'er thee hath vainly waved his wings! + +The sun, with his refulgent beams, + Thaws not thy icy zone; +Lord of ten thousand frozen streams, + That sleep around thy throne, +Whose crystal barriers may defy +The genial warmth of summer's sky. + +What human foot shall dare intrude + Beyond the howling waste, +Or view the untrodden solitude, + Where thy dark home is placed; +In those far realms of death where light +Shrieks from thy glance and all is night? + +The earth has felt thine iron tread, + The streams have ceased to flow, +The leaves beneath thy feet lie dead, + And keen the north winds blow: +Nature lies in her winding sheet +Of dazzling snow, and blinding sleet. + +Thy voice has chained the troubled deep; + Within thy mighty hand, +The restless world of waters sleep + On Greenland's barren strand. +Thy stormy heralds, loud and shrill, +Have bid the foaming waves lie still. + +Where lately many a gallant prow + Spurned back the whitening spray, +An icy desert glitters now, + Beneath the moon's wan ray: +Full many a fathom deep below +The dark imprisoned waters flow. + +How gloriously above thee gleam + The planetary train, +And the pale moon with clearer beam + Chequers the frost-bound plain; +The sparkling diadem of night +Circles thy brow with tenfold light. + +I love thee not--yet when I raise + To heaven my wondering eyes, +I feel transported at the blaze + Of beauty in the skies, +And laud the power that, e'en to thee, +Hath given such pomp and majesty! + +I turn and shrink before the blast + That sweeps the leafless tree, +Careering on the tempest past, + Thy snowy wreath I see; +But Spring will come in beauty forth +And chase thee to the frozen north! + + + + +FANCY AND THE POET. + + +POET. + +Enchanting spirit! at thy votive shrine +I lowly bend one simple wreath to twine; +O come from thy ideal world and fling +Thy airy fingers o'er my rugged string; +Sweep the dark chords of thought and give to earth +The wild sweet song that tells thy heavenly birth-- + + +FANCY. + +Happiness, when from earth she fled, + I passed on her heaven-ward flight,-- +"Take this wreath," the spirit said, + "And bathe it in floods of light; +To the sons of sorrow this token give, +And bid them follow my steps and live!" + +I took the wreath from her radiant hand, + Each flower was a silver star; +I turned this dark earth to a fairy land, + When I hither drove my car; +But I wove the wreath round my tresses bright, +And man only saw its reflected light. + +Many a lovely dream I've given, + And many a song divine, +But never--oh never!--that wreath from heaven + Shall mortal temples twine. +Hope and love in the chaplet glow: +'Tis all too bright for a world of woe! + + +POET. + +Hist--Beautiful spirit! why silent so soon? +My soul drinks each word of thy magical tune; +My lyre owns thy touch, and its tremulous strings +Still vibrate beneath the soft play of thy wings! +Resume thy sweet lay, and reveal, ere we part, +Thy home, lovely spirit,--and say what thou art. + + +FANCY. + +The gleam of a star which thou canst not see, + Or an eye 'neath its sleeping lid, +The tune of a far off melody, + The voice of a stream that's hid; +Such must I still remain to thee, +A wonder and a mystery. + +I live in the poet's dream, + I flash on the painter's eye, +I dwell in the moon's pale beam, + In the depths of the star-lit sky; +I traverse the earth, the air, the main, +And bind young hearts in my golden chain. + +I float on the crimson cloud, + My voice is in every breeze, +I speak in the tempest loud, + In the sigh of the wind-stirred trees; +To the sons of earth, in a magic tone, +I tell of a world more bright than their own! + + + + +NIGHT'S PHANTASIES. + +A FRAGMENT. + + +I have dreamed sweet dreams of a summer night, +When the moon was walking in cloudless light, +And my soul to the regions of Fancy sprung, +While the spirits of air their soft anthems sung, +Strains wafted down from those heavenly spheres +Which may not be warbled in waking ears; +More sweet than the voice of waters flowing, +Than the breeze over beds of violets blowing, +When it stirs the pines, and sultry day +Fans himself cool with their tremulous play. +On the sleeper's ear those rich notes stealing, +Speak of purer and holier feeling +Than man in his pilgrimage here below, +In the bondage of sin, can ever know. + + I heard in my slumbers the ceaseless roar +Of the sparkling waves, as they met the shore, +Till lulled by the surge of the moon-lit deep, +By the heaving ocean I sank to sleep. +And a magic spell on my spirit was cast, +And forms that had perished in ages past, +Were by Fancy revealed to my wondering view, +As the veil of Oblivion she backward drew, +And showed me a glorious vision, dressed +In the rosy light of the glowing west. +Such colours at parting the day-god throws, +To gild his path, as rejoicing he goes, +Like a victor red with the spoils of fight, +To raise through darkness the banner of light! + + Slowly and soothingly stole on my ear +Strains such as spirits in ecstasy hear, +When they tune their harps at the jasper throne +Of eternal light, with its rainbow zone; +And the harmony drawn from those living strings +Gushes forth from the fountain whence music springs; +But those songs divine, of heavenly birth, +Are seldom repeated to sons of earth. +Such sounds as I heard by that summer sea +Were never produced by man's minstrelsy; +Which rose and sank by the billowy motion +Of the breaking wave and the heaving ocean: +Now borne on the night-breeze was wafted high, +Through the glowing depths of the star-lit sky; +Now mournfully wailing, like plaintive dirge, +Rushed to the shore, with the rush of the surge. + +And I saw a figure, all radiantly bright, +Float over the waves in the pale moonlight; +She moved to the notes of a magical song, +And the billows scarce murmured that bore her along; +The winds became mute--and the snowy wreath, +That crested the billows, looked dim beneath +Her silvery feet--that as lightly trod +The heaving deep, as the emerald sod. +A garland of coral her temples bound, +And her glittering robes floated lightly round, +Veiling her form in a shadowy shroud, +Like the mist that hangs on the morning cloud, +Ere the sun dispels, with his rising beam, +The vapours exhaled from the marshy stream. +The breeze wafted back from her forehead fair +Her long flowing tresses of shining hair, +Which cast on her features a lambent glow, +Like a halo encircling her brow of snow; +Revealing a face of such faultless mould +As that sea-born goddess possessed of old, +The morning she rose from the purple tide, +The queen of beauty and joy's fair bride-- +But her cheek was as pale as the ocean spray +Ere it catches a flush from the rosy day; +And the shade of a deathless grief was there, +Which spake more of ages than years of care; +As though she had borne, since the world began, +Every sorrow and trial that waits upon man. + + Such was the shadow that haunted my dream; +Such was the figure that rose from the stream; +And I felt a strange and electric thrill +Of unearthly delight my bosom fill, +As she neared the shore, and I heard the strain +That charmed into silence the listening main. + +Child of the earth! behold in me + The desolate spirit of things that were: +I keep Oblivion's iron key, +Far, far below in the pathless sea, + Where never a sound from the upper air +Is heard in those realms where, in darkness hurled, +Lie the shattered domes of the ancient world! + +A thousand ages have slowly rolled + O'er temple and tower and fortress strong, +By the giant kings possessed of old, +That buried beneath the waters cold, + Only echo the mermaids' plaintive song, +When they weep o'er the form of some child of clay, +'Mid the wreck of a world that has passed away. + +The spirits of earth and air have sighed + To traverse those halls, in vain; +The rolling waters those ruins hide, +And buried beneath the oozy tide, + They sleep in my icy chain; +And if thou canst banish all mortal dread, +Thou shalt view that world of the mighty dead.-- + +Far over the breast of the waters wide +That song's plaintive cadence in distance died, +And I heard but the tremulous, mournful sweep +Of the night-winds ruffling the azure deep!-- + + + + +SONGS OF THE HOURS. + + +THE TWILIGHT HOUR. + +Slowly I dawn on the sleepless eye, +Like a dreaming thought of eternity; +But darkness hangs on my misty vest, +Like the shade of care on the sleeper's breast; +A light that is felt--but dimly seen, +Like hope that hangs life and death between; +And the weary watcher will sighing say, +"Lord, I thank thee! 'twill soon be day;" +The lingering night of pain is past, +Morning breaks in the east at last. + + Mortal!--thou mayst see in me +A type of feeble infancy,-- +A dim, uncertain, struggling ray, +The promise of a future day! + + +THE MORNING HOUR. + + Like a maid on her bridal morn I rise, +With the smile on her lip and the tear in her eyes; +Whilst the breeze my crimson banner unfurls, +I wreathe my locks with the purest pearls; +Brighter diamonds never were seen +Encircling the neck of an Indian queen! +I traverse the east on my glittering wing, +And my smiles awake every living thing; +And the twilight hour like a pilgrim gray, +Follows the night on her weeping way. +I raise the veil from the saffron bed, +Where the young sun pillows his golden head; +He lifts from the ocean his burning eye, +And his glory lights up the earth and sky. + + Ah, I am like that dewy prime, +Ere youth hath shaken hands with time; +Ere the fresh tide of life has wasted low, +And discovered the hidden rocks of woe: +When like the rosy beams of morn, +Joy and gladness and love were born, +Hope divine, of heavenly birth, +And pleasure that lightens the cares of earth! + + +THE NOONTIDE HOUR. + + I come like an Eastern monarch dight +In my crown of beams, in my robe of light; +And nature droops at my ardent gaze, +And wraps the woods in a purple haze; +From my fiery glance the strong man shrinks, +Like a babe on the bosom of earth he sinks; +Yet cries, as he turns from the glowing ray, +"This is a glorious summer day!" + + Such is manhood's fiery dower, +Passion's all-consuming power; +Glorious, beautiful, and bright, +But too dazzling to the sight! + + +THE EVENING HOUR. + + Like the herald hope of a fairer clime, +The brightest link in the chain of time, +The youngest and loveliest child of day, +I mingle and soften each glowing ray; +Weaving together a tissue bright +Of the beams of day and the gems of night.-- +I pitch my tent in the glowing west, +And receive the sun as he sinks to rest; +He flings in my lap his ruby crown, +And lays at my feet his glory down; +But ere his burning eyelids close, +His farewell glance the day-king throws +On Nature's face--till the twilight shrouds +The monarch's brow in a veil of clouds-- +Oh then, by the light of mine own fair star, +I unyoke the steeds from his beamy car. +Away they start from the fiery rein, +With flashing hoofs, and flying mane, +Like meteors speeding on the wind, +They leave a glowing track behind, +Till the dark caverns of the night +Receive the heaven-born steeds of light! + + While Nature broods o'er the soft repose +Of the dewy mead, and the half-shut rose, +Does not that lovely hour give birth +To thoughts more allied to heaven than earth? +When things that have been in perspective pass, +Like the sun's last rays over memory's glass; +When life's cares are forgot, when its joys are our own, +And the mild beams of faith round the future are thrown; +When all that awakened remorse or regret, +Like a stormy morn, has in splendour set; +When the sorrows of time and the hopes of heaven +Blend in the soul like the hues of even, +And the spirit looks back on this troubled scene +With a glance as bright as it ne'er had been! + + +NIGHT. + + I come, like Oblivion, to sweep away +The scattered beams from the car of day: +The gems which the evening has lavishly strown +Light up the lamps round my ebon throne. +Slowly I float through the realms of space, +Casting my mantle o'er Nature's face, +Weaving the stars in my raven hair, +As I sail through the shadowy fields of air. +All the wild fancies that thought can bring +Lie hid in the folds of my sable wing: +Terror is mine with his phrensied crew, +Fear with her cheek of marble hue, +And sorrow, that shuns the eye of day, +Pours out to me her plaintive lay. +I am the type of that awful gloom +Which involves the cradle and wraps the tomb; +Chilling the soul with its mystical sway; +Chasing the day-dreams of beauty away; +Till man views the banner by me unfurled, +As the awful veil of the unknown world; +The emblem of all he fears beneath +The solemn garb of the spoiler death! + + +CHORUS OF HOURS. + + Born with the sun, the fair daughters of time, +We silently lead to a lovelier clime, +Where the day is undimmed by the shadows of night, +But eternally beams from the fountain of light; +Where the sorrows of time and its cares are unknown +To the beautiful forms that encircle the throne +Of the mighty Creator! the First and the Last! +Who the wonderful frame of the universe cast, +And composed every link of the mystical chain +Of minutes, and hours, which are numbered in vain +By the children of dust, in their frantic career, +When their moments are wasted unthinkingly here, +Lavished on earth which in mercy were given +That men might prepare for the joys of heaven!-- + + + + +THE LUMINOUS BOW. + +THIS REMARKABLE PHENOMENON WAS WITNESSED BY THE AUTHOR +ON THE NIGHT OF THE 29th OF SEPTEMBER, 1829. + + +Vision of beauty! there floats not a cloud +O'er the blue vault of heaven thy glory to shroud; +The star-gemmed horizon thou spannest sublime, +Like the path to a better and lovelier clime. + +Thy light, unreflected by planet or star, +Still widens and brightens round night's spangled car; +In radiance resembling the moon's placid beam, +When she smiles through the soft mist that hangs on the stream. + +Thou sittest enthroned, like the spirit of night, +And the stars through thy zone shed a tremulous light; +The moon is still sleeping beneath the wide sea, +Whilst wonder is keeping her vigils with me. + +The bow of the covenant brightens the storm, +When its dark wings are shading the brow of the morn; +But thou art uncradled by vapour or cloud, +Thy glory's unshaded by night's sable shroud. + +Oh whence is thy splendour, fair luminous bow? +From light's golden chalice thy radiance must flow; +Thou look'st from the throne of thy beauty above +On this desolate earth, like the spirit of love! + + + + +THE SUGAR BIRD.[C] + + +Thou splendid child of southern skies! + Thy brilliant plumes and graceful form +Are not so precious in mine eyes + As those gray heralds of the morn, +Which in my own beloved land + Welcome the azure car of spring, +When budding flowers and leaves expand + On hawthorn boughs, and sweetly sing. + +But thou art suited to the clime, + The golden clime, that gave thee birth; +Where beauty reigns o'er scenes sublime, + And fadeless verdure decks the earth; +Where nature faints beneath the blaze + Of her own gorgeous crown of light, +And exiled eyes, with aching gaze, + Sigh for the softer shades of night, + +That memory to their dreams may bring + Past scenes, to cheer their sleeping eye, +The dark green woods where linnets sing, + And echo wafts the faint reply. +Ah, from those voiceless birds that glow, + Like living gems 'mid blossoms rare, +The captive turns in sullen woe + To climes more dear and scenes less fair! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote C: This elegant bird is a native of Van Dieman's land.] + + + + +THE DREAM. + + +Methought last night I saw thee lowly laid, + Thy pallid cheek yet paler, on the bier; +And scattered round thee many a lovely braid + Of flowers, the brightest of the closing year; +Whilst on thy lips the placid smile that played, + Proved thy soul's exit to a happier sphere, +In silent eloquence reproaching those +Who watched in agony thy last repose. + +A pensive, wandering, melancholy light + The moon's pale radiance on thy features cast, +Which, through the awful stillness of the night, + Gleamed like some lovely vision of the past, +Recalling hopes once beautiful and bright, + Now, like that struggling beam, receding fast, +Which o'er the scene a softening glory shed, +And kissed the brow of the unconscious dead. + +Yes--it was thou!--and we were doomed to part, + Never in this wide world to meet again. +The blow that levelled thee was in my heart, + And thrilled my breast with more than mortal pain. +Despair forbade the gathering tears to start; + But soon the gushing torrents fell like rain +O'er thy pale form, as free and unrepressed +As the rash shower that rocks the storm to rest. + +For all this goodly earth contained for me, + Of bright or beautiful, lay withering there: +What were its gayest scenes bereft of thee-- + What were its joys in which thou couldst not share? +While memory recalled each spot, where we + Had twined together many a garland fair, +Of hope's own wreathing, and the summer hours +Smiled not on happier, gayer hearts than ours. + +Hearts, chilled and silent, as the pensive beam, + Whose shadowy glory resting on the pall, +Casts on the dead a sad portentous gleam, + And serves past hours of rapture to recall, +Till the soul roused herself with one wild scream, + As shuddering nature felt the powerful call, +And I awoke in ecstasy to find +'Twas but a fleeting phantom of the mind! + + + + +THE RUIN. + + +I know a cliff, whose steep and craggy brow +O'erlooks the troubled ocean, and spurns back +The advancing billow from its rugged base; +Yet many a goodly rood of land lies deep +Beneath the wild wave buried, which rolls on +Its course exulting o'er the prostrate towers +Of high cathedral--church--and abbey fair,-- +Lifting its loud and everlasting voice +Over the ruins, which its depths enshroud, +As if it called on Time, to render back +The things that were, and give to life again +All that in dark oblivion sleeps below:-- +Perched on the summit of that lofty cliff +A time-worn edifice o'erlooks the wave, +"Which greets the fisher's home-returning bark," +And the young seaman checks his blithesome song +To hail the lonely ruin from the deep. + + Majestic in decay, that roofless pile +Survives the wreck of ages, rising still +A mournful beacon o'er the sea of time, +The lonely record of departed years:-- +Yes--those who view that ruin feel an awe +Sink in the heart, like those who look on death +For the first time, and hear within the soul +A voice of warning whisper,--"Thus, e'en thus, +All human glories perish--rent from time, +And swallowed up in that unmeasured void, +O'er which oblivion rolls his sable tide."-- +Such thoughts as these that moss-grown pile calls forth +To those who gaze upon its shattered walls, +Or, musing, tread its grass-grown aisles, or pause +To contemplate the wide and barren heath, +Spreading in rude magnificence around, +With scarce a tree or shrub to intersect +Its gloomy aspect, save the noble ash +That fronts the ruins, on whose hoary trunk +The hurricanes of years have vainly burst, +To mar its beauty;--there sublime it stands, +Waving its graceful branches o'er the soil +That wraps the mouldering children of the land. + + The shadowy splendour of an autumn sky +Was radiant with the hues of parting day; +The glorious sun seemed loth to leave the west, +That glowed like molten gold--a saffron sea +Fretted with crimson billows, whose rich tints +Gave to the rugged cliff and barren heath +A ruddy diadem of living light! + + Hark!--'tis the lonely genius of the place +Sighs through the wind-stirred branches and bewails +Its desolation to the moaning blast, +That sweeps the ivy on the dark gray walls!-- +No--'twas a sound of bitter agony +Wrung from the depths of some o'erburdened heart, +Which in life's early morning had received +A sad inheritance of sighs and tears. + + Starting, I turned--and seated on the ground +Beside the broken altar I beheld +A female figure, whose fantastic dress +And hair enwreathed with sprigs of ash and yew +Bespoke a mind in ruins. On her brow +Despair had stamped his iron seal; her cheek +Was pale as moonlight on the misty wave; +Her hollow eyes were fixed on vacancy, +Or wildly sent their hurried glances round +With quick impatient gesture, as in quest +Of some loved object, present to her mind, +But shut for ever from her longing view. + + The sun went down. She slowly left her seat +And cast one long sad look upon the wave; +Then poured the anguish of her breaking heart +In a low plaintive strain of melody, +That rose and died away upon the breeze, +The mournful requiem of her perished hopes:-- + +Hark! the restless spirits of ocean sigh; +I can hear them speak as the wind sweeps by. +See, the ivy has heard their mystic call, +And shivering clings to the broken wall, +The dark green leaves take a sadder shade, +And the flowers turn pale and begin to fade; +The landscape grows dim in the deepening gloom, +And the dead awake in the silent tomb. +I have watched the return of my true-love's bark, +From the sun's uprising till midnight dark; +I have watched and wept through the weary day, +But his ship on the deep is far away; +I have gazed for hours on the whitening track +Of the pathless waters, and called him back, +But my voice returned on the moaning blast, +And the vessel I sought still glided past. + +We parted on just such a lovely night: +The billows were tossing in cloudless light, +And the full bright moon on the waters slept; +And the stars above us their vigils kept, +And the surges whispered a lullaby, +As low and as sweet as a lover's sigh-- +And he promised, as gently he pressed my hand, +He would soon return to his native land. + +But long months have fled, and this burning brain +Is seared with weeping and watching in vain. +A dark dark shade on my bosom lies, +And nights of sorrow have dimmed these eyes; +The roses have fled from my pallid cheek, +And the grief that I feel no words can speak; +I have made my home with the graves of the dead, +And the cold earth pillows my aching head! + +He will come!--he will come!--I know it now; +The waves are dancing before his prow; +He comes to speak peace to my aching heart, +To tell me we never again shall part; +I can hear his voice in the freshening breeze, +As his bark glides o'er the rippling seas, +And my heart will break forth into laughter and song, +When I lead him back through the gazing throng. + +Ah, no--where yon shade on the water lies +The slow-rising moon deceives my eyes, +And the tide of sorrow within my breast +Rolls on like the billows that never rest; +I will look no more on the heaving deep, +But return to my lowly bed and weep: +He will come to my dreams in the darksome night, +And his bark will be here with the dawn of light! + +When the song ceased, she turned her heavy eyes +With such a piteous glance upon my face; +It pierced my heart, and fast the gathering tears +Blinded my sight. Alas! poor maniac; +For thee no hope shall dawn--no tender thought +Wake in thy blighted heart a thrill of joy. +The immortal mind is levelled with the dust, +Ere the tenacious cords of life give way. +Hers was a common tale--she early owned +The ardent love that youthful spirits feel, +And gave her soul in blind idolatry +To one dear object; and his ship was lost +In sight of port--lost on the very morn +That should have smiled upon their bridal rite. +She saw the dreadful accident like one +Who saw it not; and from that fatal hour +All memory of it faded from her mind, +And still she watches for the distant sail +Of him, who never, never can return! + + Poor stricken maid! thy best affections, +Thy hopes, thy wishes centred all in earth-- +Earth has repaid thee with a broken heart! +Love to thy God had known no rash excess, +For in his service there is joy and peace; +A light, which on thy troubled mind had shed +Its holy influence, and those tearful eyes +Had then been raised in gratitude to heaven, +Nor chased delusive phantoms o'er the deep! + + + + +WINTER + +CALLING UP HIS LEGIONS. + + +WINTER. + +Awake--arise! all my stormy powers, +The earth, the fair earth, again is ours! +At my stern approach, pale Autumn flings down +In the dust her broken and faded crown; +At my glance the terrified mourner flies, +And the earth is filled with her doleful cries. +Awake!--for the season of flowers is o'er,-- +My white banner unfurl on each northern shore! +Ye have slumbered long in my icy chain-- +Ye are free to travel the land and main. +Spirits of frost! quit your mountains of snow-- +Will ye longer suffer the streams to flow? +Up, up, and away from your rocky caves +And herald me over the pathless waves! + + He ceased, and rose from his craggy throne +And girt around him his icy zone; +And his meteor-eye grew wildly bright +As he threw his glance o'er those realms of night. +He sent forth his voice with a mighty sound, +And the snows of ages were scattered around; +And the hollow murmurs that shook the sky +Told to the monarch, his band was nigh. + + +THE WIND FROST. + + I come o'er the hills of the frozen North, +To call to the battle thy armies forth: +I have swept the shores of the Baltic sea, +And the billows have felt my mastery; +They resisted my power, but strove in vain-- +I have curbed their might with my crystal chain. +I roused the northwind in his stormy cave, +Together we passed over land and wave; +I sharpened his breath and gave him power +To crush and destroy every herb and flower; +He obeyed my voice, and is rending now +The sallow leaves from the groaning bough; +And he shouts aloud in his wild disdain, +As he whirls them down to the frozen plain: +Those beautiful leaves to which Spring gave birth +Are scattered abroad on the face of the earth. +I have visited many a creek and bay, +And curdled the streams in my stormy way; +I have chilled into hail the genial shower:-- +All this I have done to increase thy power. + + +THE RIME FROST. + + I stood by the stream in the deep midnight. +The moon through the fog shed a misty light; +I arrested the vapours that floated by, +And wove them in garlands and hung them on high; +I bound the trees in a feathery zone, +And turned the soft dews of heaven to stone; +I spangled with gems every leaf and spray, +As onward I passed on my noiseless way; +And I came to thee when my work was done, +To see how they shone in the morning sun! + + +THE NORTH WIND. + + I have borne the clouds on my restless wings, +And my sullen voice through the desert rings; +I sent through the forest a rushing blast, +And the foliage fled as I onward passed +From the desolate regions of woe and death, +In adamant bound by my freezing breath: +From the crystal mountains where silence reigns, +And nature sleeps on the sterile plains, +I have brought the snow from thy mighty store +To whiten and cover each northern shore. + + +THE EAST WIND. + + I woke like a giant refreshed with sleep, +And lifted the waves of the troubled deep; +I clouded the heavens with vapours dark, +And rolled the tide o'er the foundering bark, +Then mocked in hoarse murmurs the hollow cry +Of the drowning wretch in his agony: +I have leagued with the North to assert thy right +On the land and the wave both by day and by night! + + +THE SNOW. + + I heard thy summons and hastened fast, +And floated hither before the blast, +To wave thy white banner o'er tower and town, +O'er the level plain and the mountain brown. +I have crowned the woods with a spotless wreath, +And loaded the avalanche with death; +I have wrapped the earth in a winding sheet, +And Nature lies dead beneath my feet. + + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS. + + All hail, mighty monarch! our tasks are o'er; +Thy power is confessed on each northern shore; +From the rock's stern brow to the rolling sea +The spirits of earth have bowed to thee. +In the cradle of Nature the young Spring lies +With the slumber of death on her azure eyes; +And we wander at will through the wide domain, +Which in beauty and verdure shall flourish again, +When she bursts from her shroud like a sun-beam forth +'To chase us back to the frozen North!' + + With darkness and storms for thy panoply, +Stern Winter, what power may contend with thee? +Thy sceptre commands both the wind and the tide, +And thy empire extends over regions wide; +With thy star-gemmed crown and eagle wings, +The strongest of nature's potent kings! +But thy power for a season alone is lent, +Thou art but a ministering spirit sent +By the mighty Creator of thine and thee, +Who fills with his presence immensity! + + + + +THERE'S JOY, &c. + + +There's joy when the rosy morning floods + The purple east with light, +When the zephyr sweeps from a thousand buds + The pearly tears of night. +There's joy when the lark exulting springs + To pour his matin lay, +From the blossomed thorn when the blackbird sings, + And the merry month is May. + +There's joy abroad when the wintry snow + Melts as it ne'er had been, +When cowslips bud and violets blow, + And leaves are fresh and green. +There's joy in the swallow's airy flight, + In the cuckoo's blithesome cry, +When the floating clouds reflect the light + Of evening's glowing sky. + +There's joy in April's balmy showers + 'Mid gleam of sunshine shed, +When May calls forth a thousand flowers + To deck the earth's green bed. +There's joy when the harvest moon comes out + With all her starry train, +When the woods return the reaper's shout + And echo shouts again. + +There's joy in childhood's merry voice + When the laugh rings blithe and clear; +And the sounds that bid young hearts rejoice + Are music to the ear. +There's joy in the dreams of early youth, + Ere care has cast a shade +O'er scenes which, though drest in the guise of truth, + Our reason dooms to fade. + +There's joy in the youthful lover's breast + When his bride by the altar stands, +When his trembling lip to hers is pressed + And the priest has joined their hands. +There's joy in the smiling mother's heart + When she clasps her first-born son, +When the holy tears of rapture start + To bless the lovely one. + +There's joy when the war-worn soldier hears + The notes that breathe of peace, +That dry the anxious matron's tears, + And bid stern slaughter cease. +There's joy when he treads the village green + And views his father's cot; +The horrors of the battle-scene + Are in that hour forgot. + +There's joy in the shipwrecked seaman's heart, + Who has clung all night to the shrouds; +When the morning breeze rives the rack apart, + And the sun breaks through the clouds. +There's joy when he nears his native land, + And the tedious voyage is o'er, +And he feels the grasp of the kindred hand + He thought to enfold no more. + +There's joy above, around, beneath, + But tis a fleeting ray; +The world's stern strife, the hand of death, + Bid mortal hopes decay. +But there's a better joy than earth, + With all her charms, can give, +Which marks the Christian's second birth, + When man but dies to live! + + + + +LOVE. + + +Oh Love! how fondly, tenderly enshrined +In human hearts, how with our being twined! +Immortal principle, in mercy given, +The brightest mirror of the joys of heaven. +Child of Eternity's unclouded clime, +Too fair for earth, too infinite for time: +A seraph watching o'er Death's sullen shroud, +A sunbeam streaming through a stormy cloud; +An angel hovering o'er the paths of life, +But sought in vain amidst its cares and strife; +Claimed by the many--known but to the few +Who keep thy great Original in view; +Who, void of passion's dross, behold in thee +A glorious attribute of Deity! + + + + +MORNING HYMN. + + +O'er Time's mighty billows borne, +Angels lead the purple morn; +Chasing far the shades of night +From the burning throne of light: +Where their glorious wings unfold, +There the east is streaked with gold; +Gilding with celestial dyes +The azure curtain of the skies. +High in air their matin song +Floats the ethereal fields along; +Ere creation wakes they sing, +Glory to the eternal King! +Till silent woods and sleeping plains +Echo far, Jehovah reigns! + + Rising from the arms of night, +Nature hails the birth of light; +Smiling sweetly through her tears, +High her verdant crown she rears; +At her call the sunny hours +Wreathe her humid locks with flowers; +Bright with many a lucid gem +Shines her spotless diadem: +Every grove hath found a voice, +Countless tribes in Thee rejoice! +In melody untaught they sing +Glory to the eternal King! +Earth and heaven respond their strains, +Lord of all, Jehovah reigns! + + On man's sin-bound soul and eyes +Alone the shade of darkness lies: +The last of nature's children he, +To laud the eternal Deity! +The last his sullen voice to raise, +The Lord of life and light to praise-- +Slumberer, wake!--arise! arise! +Join the chorus of the skies!-- +Dost thou sleep? to whom is given +The privilege of sons of heaven? +Wake with angel choirs to sing +Glory to the Almighty King, +Who life within himself retains-- +Lord of all, Jehovah reigns! + + Rising o'er the tide of years, +Lo, a morn more blessed appears: +When yon burning orb of fire, +And moon, and stars, and heavens expire, +And all that once had life and breath, +Emerging from the arms of death, +Shall animate the heaving sod, +And countless millions meet their God! +Whose hand the links of time shall sever, +And man shall wake--to live for ever! +When souls redeemed with angels sing, +Glory to the eternal king! +Vanquished death is led in chains-- +Lord of life, Jehovah, reigns! + + + + +EVENING HYMN. + + +Sinking now in floods of light, +The sun resigns the world to night; +When a lingering glance he turns, +The glowing west with glory burns, +And the blushing heavens awhile +Long retain his parting smile. +Ere gray evening's sullen eye, +Bids those tints of beauty die; +Ere her tears have washed away +The footsteps of departing day, +Nature from her verdant bowers +Her last long strain of rapture pours; +Shrouded in her misty vest, +She sings a drowsy world to rest, +And tells to man, in thrilling strains, +That the Lord Jehovah reigns! + + Lingering twilight dies away, +Night resumes her ancient sway, +Round her sable tresses twining +Countless hosts of stars are shining; +Weaving round the brow of night +A coronet of living light: +O'er the couch of nature bending, +Their beauteous glances downward sending, +A silent watch of glory keeping, +Guard the earth whilst life is sleeping. +Strains unheard by mortal ears, +Echo through the starry spheres; +Other worlds awake to sing, +Glory to the eternal King! +Till azure fields and liquid plains +Echo far, Jehovah reigns! + + Creation sleeps--but many a sound +Of melody is floating round-- +Where the moon-lit sea is flinging +Its snowy foam and upward springing +To meet the shore advancing nigh, +Pours, in many a broken sigh, +A mournful dirge o'er those who rest +Forgotten in its stormy breast. +Restless ocean, onward rave; +He who trod the boisterous wave, +Shall to life those forms restore, +Thy tides have rolled for ages o'er; +Those sleepers from thy depths shall spring +To meet in air their mighty King, +Whilst shrinking seas repeat their strains, +Lord of all, Jehovah, reigns! + + This is night;--her mantle gray +She flings across the brow of day +To hide from mortal ken awhile +The splendour of his kingly smile. +But what magic beauties lie +In her dark and shadowy eye, +When the moon with glory crowned +Checkers o'er the distant ground; +Bathing now in floods of light, +Now retreating from the sight, +As the heavy vapoury cloud +Flings athwart its sable shroud; +Onward as her course is steering, +Now through broken cliffs appearing, +She shows the brightness of her form +And laughs exulting at the storm; +Whilst misty hills and moon-lit plains +Echo far, Jehovah reigns! + + Night,--thy end is hastening fast, +Eternal day will dawn at last; +The Sun of righteousness shall rise, +Triumphant through his native skies; +And men redeemed from dust shall spring +To hail the advent of their King; +Till heaven's wide arch repeats their strains, +Christ, our own Immanuel, reigns! + + +THE END. + + +BUNGAY: PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS. + + + + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes + +Spelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and indentation inconsistencies +have been retained from the original book. Minor changes were made to +the Table of Contents to match the poem titles. + +The following typos have been corrected: + +Page 19: An changed to And: + (An Alexander's victories, compared). + +Page 30: ceas changed to cease: + (Lost in immensity, would ceas to feel!). + +Page 125: apostrophe added before Tis: + ("Tis Mary Hume!"--his comrade said--). + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Enthusiasm and Other Poems, by Susanna Moodie + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTHUSIASM AND OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 26611-8.txt or 26611-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/6/1/26611/ + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Henry Craig, Diane Monico, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by the Canadian Institute for +Historical Microreproductions (www.canadiana.org)) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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