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@@ -0,0 +1,2417 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Culprit Fay, by Joseph Rodman Drake + + +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: The Culprit Fay + and Other Poems + + +Author: Joseph Rodman Drake + + + +Release Date: January 18, 2007 [eBook #317] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CULPRIT FAY*** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1836 George Dearborn edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + +THE +CULPRIT FAY, +AND +OTHER POEMS + + +BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. + +{Cro' Nest, from above West Point, on the Hudson River: p0.jpg} + +New York: +GEORGE DEARBORN, PUBLISHER. +1836. + +[Entered according to the Act of Congress of the United States of +America, October 31, 1835, by George Dearborn, in the Clerk's Office of +the Southern District of New-York.] + +SCATCHERD AND ADAMS, +PRINTERS, +No. 38 Gold-street. + +TO +HER FATHER'S FRIEND, +FITZ-GREENE HALLECK, +THESE POEMS ARE +RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, +BY THE AUTHOR'S DAUGHTER. + + + + +Index. + + +The Culprit Fay +To a Friend +Leon +Niagara +Song +Song +Lines written in a Lady's Album +Lines to a Lady +Lines on leaving New Rochelle +Hope +Fragment +To --- +Lines +To Eva +To a Lady with a Violet +Bronx +Song +To Sarah +The American Flag + + + + +THE CULPRIT FAY. + + + "My visual orbs are purged from film, and lo! + "Instead of Anster's turnip-bearing vales + "I see old fairy land's miraculous show! + "Her trees of tinsel kissed by freakish gales, + "Her Ouphs that, cloaked in leaf-gold, skim the breeze, + "And fairies, swarming--" + + TENNANT'S ANSTER FAIR. + +I. + +'Tis the middle watch of a summer's night-- +The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; +Nought is seen in the vault on high +But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky, +And the flood which rolls its milky hue, +A river of light on the welkin blue. +The moon looks down on old Cronest, +She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast, +And seems his huge gray form to throw +In a sliver cone on the wave below; +His sides are broken by spots of shade, +By the walnut bough and the cedar made, +And through their clustering branches dark +Glimmers and dies the fire-fly's spark-- +Like starry twinkles that momently break +Through the rifts of the gathering tempest's rack. + +II. + +The stars are on the moving stream, + And fling, as its ripples gently flow, +A burnished length of wavy beam + In an eel-like, spiral line below; +The winds are whist, and the owl is still, + The bat in the shelvy rock is hid, +And nought is heard on the lonely hill +But the cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill + Of the gauze-winged katy-did; +And the plaint of the wailing whip-poor-will, + Who moans unseen, and ceaseless sings, +Ever a note of wail and wo, + Till morning spreads her rosy wings, +And earth and sky in her glances glow. + +III. + +'Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell: +The wood-tick has kept the minutes well; +He has counted them all with click and stroke, +Deep in the heart of the mountain oak, +And he has awakened the sentry elve + Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree, +To bid him ring the hour of twelve, + And call the fays to their revelry; +Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell-- +('Twas made of the white snail's pearly shell:--) +"Midnight comes, and all is well! +Hither, hither, wing your way! +'Tis the dawn of the fairy day." + +IV. + +They come from beds of lichen green, +They creep from the mullen's velvet screen; + Some on the backs of beetles fly +From the silver tops of moon-touched trees, + Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, +And rock'd about in the evening breeze; + Some from the hum-bird's downy nest-- +They had driven him out by elfin power, + And pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast, +Had slumbered there till the charmed hour; + Some had lain in the scoop of the rock, +With glittering ising-stars inlaid; + And some had opened the four-o'clock, +And stole within its purple shade. + And now they throng the moonlight glade, +Above--below--on every side, + Their little minim forms arrayed +In the tricksy pomp of fairy pride! + +V. + +They come not now to print the lea, +In freak and dance around the tree, +Or at the mushroom board to sup, +And drink the dew from the buttercup;-- +A scene of sorrow waits them now, +For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow; +He has loved an earthly maid, +And left for her his woodland shade; +He has lain upon her lip of dew, +And sunned him in her eye of blue, +Fann'd her cheek with his wing of air, +Played in the ringlets of her hair, +And, nestling on her snowy breast, +Forgot the lily-king's behest. +For this the shadowy tribes of air + To the elfin court must haste away:-- +And now they stand expectant there, + To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay. + +VI. + +The throne was reared upon the grass +Of spice-wood and of sassafras; +On pillars of mottled tortoise-shell + Hung the burnished canopy-- +And o'er it gorgeous curtains fell + Of the tulip's crimson drapery. +The monarch sat on his judgment-seat, + On his brow the crown imperial shone, +The prisoner Fay was at his feet, + And his peers were ranged around the throne. +He waved his sceptre in the air, + He looked around and calmly spoke; +His brow was grave and his eye severe, + But his voice in a softened accent broke: + +VII. + +"Fairy! Fairy! list and mark, + Thou hast broke thine elfin chain, +Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, + And thy wings are dyed with a deadly stain-- +Thou hast sullied thine elfin purity +In the glance of a mortal maiden's eye, +Thou hast scorned our dread decree, +And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high, +But well I know her sinless mind +Is pure as the angel forms above, +Gentle and meek, and chaste and kind, +Such as a spirit well might love; +Fairy! had she spot or taint, +Bitter had been thy punishment. +Tied to the hornet's shardy wings; +Tossed on the pricks of nettles' stings; +Or seven long ages doomed to dwell +With the lazy worm in the walnut-shell; +Or every night to writhe and bleed +Beneath the tread of the centipede; +Or bound in a cobweb dungeon dim, +Your jailer a spider huge and grim, +Amid the carrion bodies to lie, +Of the worm, and the bug, and the murdered fly: +These it had been your lot to bear, +Had a stain been found on the earthly fair. +Now list, and mark our mild decree-- +Fairy, this your doom must be: + +VIII. + +"Thou shalt seek the beach of sand +Where the water bounds the elfin land, +Thou shalt watch the oozy brine +Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine, +Then dart the glistening arch below, +And catch a drop from his silver bow. +The water-sprites will wield their arms + And dash around, with roar and rave, +And vain are the woodland spirits' charms, + They are the imps that rule the wave. +Yet trust thee in thy single might, +If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right, +Thou shalt win the warlock fight. + +IX. + +"If the spray-bead gem be won, + The stain of thy wing is washed away, +But another errand must be done + Ere thy crime be lost for aye; +Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, +Thou must re-illume its spark. +Mount thy steed and spur him high +To the heaven's blue canopy; +And when thou seest a shooting star, +Follow it fast, and follow it far-- +The last faint spark of its burning train +Shall light the elfin lamp again. +Thou hast heard our sentence, Fay; +Hence! to the water-side, away!" + +X. + +The goblin marked his monarch well; + He spake not, but he bowed him low, +Then plucked a crimson colen-bell, + And turned him round in act to go. +The way is long, he cannot fly, + His soiled wing has lost its power, +And he winds adown the mountain high, + For many a sore and weary hour. +Through dreary beds of tangled fern, +Through groves of nightshade dark and dern, +Over the grass and through the brake, +Where toils the ant and sleeps the snake; + Now o'er the violet's azure flush +He skips along in lightsome mood; + And now he thrids the bramble bush, +Till its points are dyed in fairy blood. +He has leapt the bog, he has pierced the briar, +He has swum the brook, and waded the mire, +Till his spirits sank, and his limbs grew weak, +And the red waxed fainter in his cheek. +He had fallen to the ground outright, + For rugged and dim was his onward track, +But there came a spotted toad in sight, + And he laughed as he jumped upon her back; +He bridled her mouth with a silk-weed twist; + He lashed her sides with an osier thong; +And now through evening's dewy mist, + With leap and spring they bound along, +Till the mountain's magic verge is past, +And the beach of sand is reached at last. + +XI. + +Soft and pale is the moony beam, +Moveless still the glassy stream, +The wave is clear, the beach is bright + With snowy shells and sparkling stones; +The shore-surge comes in ripples light, + In murmurings faint and distant moans; +And ever afar in the silence deep +Is heard the splash of the sturgeon's leap, +And the bend of his graceful bow is seen-- +A glittering arch of silver sheen, +Spanning the wave of burnished blue, +And dripping with gems of the river dew. + +XII. + +The elfin cast a glance around, + As he lighted down from his courser toad, +Then round his breast his wings he wound, + And close to the river's brink he strode; +He sprang on a rock, he breathed a prayer, + Above his head his arms he threw, +Then tossed a tiny curve in air, + And headlong plunged in the waters blue. + +XIII. + +Up sprung the spirits of the waves, +From sea-silk beds in their coral caves, +With snail-plate armour snatched in haste, +They speed their way through the liquid waste; +Some are rapidly borne along +On the mailed shrimp or the prickly prong, +Some on the blood-red leeches glide, +Some on the stony star-fish ride, +Some on the back of the lancing squab, +Some on the sidelong soldier-crab; +And some on the jellied quarl, that flings +At once a thousand streamy stings-- +They cut the wave with the living oar +And hurry on to the moonlight shore, +To guard their realms and chase away +The footsteps of the invading Fay. + +XIV. + +Fearlessly he skims along, +His hope is high, and his limbs are strong, +He spreads his arms like the swallow's wing, +And throws his feet with a frog-like fling; +His locks of gold on the waters shine, + At his breast the tiny foam-beads rise, +His back gleams bright above the brine, + And the wake-line foam behind him lies. +But the water-sprites are gathering near +To check his course along the tide; +Their warriors come in swift career + And hem him round on every side; +On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold, +The quarl's long arms are round him roll'd, +The prickly prong has pierced his skin, +And the squab has thrown his javelin, +The gritty star has rubbed him raw, +And the crab has struck with his giant claw; +He howls with rage, and he shrieks with pain, +He strikes around, but his blows are vain; +Hopeless is the unequal fight, +Fairy! nought is left but flight. + +XV. + +He turned him round and fled amain +With hurry and dash to the beach again; +He twisted over from side to side, +And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide. +The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet, +And with all his might he flings his feet, +But the water-sprites are round him still, +To cross his path and work him ill. +They bade the wave before him rise; +They flung the sea-fire in his eyes, +And they stunned his ears with the scallop stroke, +With the porpoise heave and the drum-fish croak. +Oh! but a weary wight was he +When he reached the foot of the dog-wood tree; +--Gashed and wounded, and stiff and sore, +He laid him down on the sandy shore; +He blessed the force of the charmed line, + And he banned the water-goblin's spite, +For he saw around in the sweet moonshine, +Their little wee faces above the brine, +Giggling and laughing with all their might +At the piteous hap of the Fairy wight. + +XVI. + +Soon he gathered the balsam dew + From the sorrel leaf and the henbane bud; +Over each wound the balm he drew, + And with cobweb lint he stanched the blood. +The mild west wind was soft and low, +It cooled the heat of his burning brow, +And he felt new life in his sinews shoot, +As he drank the juice of the cal'mus root; +And now he treads the fatal shore, +As fresh and vigorous as before. + +XVII. + +Wrapped in musing stands the sprite: +'Tis the middle wane of night, + His task is hard, his way is far, +But he must do his errand right + Ere dawning mounts her beamy car, +And rolls her chariot wheels of light; +And vain are the spells of fairy-land, +He must work with a human hand. + +XVIII. + +He cast a saddened look around, + But he felt new joy his bosom swell, +When, glittering on the shadowed ground, + He saw a purple muscle shell; +Thither he ran, and he bent him low, +He heaved at the stern and he heaved at the bow, +And he pushed her over the yielding sand, +Till he came to the verge of the haunted land. +She was as lovely a pleasure boat + As ever fairy had paddled in, +For she glowed with purple paint without, + And shone with silvery pearl within; +A sculler's notch in the stern he made, +An oar he shaped of the bootle blade; +Then spung to his seat with a lightsome leap, +And launched afar on the calm blue deep. + +XIX. + +The imps of the river yell and rave; +They had no power above the wave, +But they heaved the billow before the prow, + And they dashed the surge against her side, +And they struck her keel with jerk and blow, + Till the gunwale bent to the rocking tide. +She wimpled about in the pale moonbeam, +Like a feather that floats on a wind tossed-stream; +And momently athwart her track +The quarl upreared his island back, +And the fluttering scallop behind would float, +And patter the water about the boat; +But he bailed her out with his colen-bell, + And he kept her trimmed with a wary tread, +While on every side like lightening fell + The heavy strokes of his bootle-blade. + +XX. + +Onward still he held his way, +Till he came where the column of moonshine lay, +And saw beneath the surface dim +The brown-backed sturgeon slowly swim: +Around him were the goblin train-- +But he sculled with all his might and main, +And followed wherever the sturgeon led, +Till he saw him upward point his head; +Then he dropped his paddle blade, +And held his colen goblet up +To catch the drop in its crimson cup. + +XXI. + +With sweeping tail and quivering fin, + Through the wave the sturgeon flew, +And, like the heaven-shot javelin, + He sprung above the waters blue. +Instant as the star-fall light, + He plunged him in the deep again, +But left an arch of silver bright + The rainbow of the moony main. +It was a strange and lovely sight + To see the puny goblin there; +He seemed an angel form of light, + With azure wing and sunny hair, +Throned on a cloud of purple fair, +Circled with blue and edged with white, +And sitting at the fall of even +Beneath the bow of summer heaven. + +XXII. + +A moment and its lustre fell, + But ere it met the billow blue, +He caught within his crimson bell, + A droplet of its sparkling dew-- +Joy to thee, Fay! thy task is done, +Thy wings are pure, for the gem is won-- +Cheerly ply thy dripping oar, +And haste away to the elfin shore. + +XXIII. + +He turns, and lo! on either side +The ripples on his path divide; +And the track o'er which his boat must pass +Is smooth as a sheet of polished glass. +Around, their limbs the sea-nymphs lave, + With snowy arms half swelling out, +While on the glossed and gleamy wave + Their sea-green ringlets loosely float; +They swim around with smile and song; + They press the bark with pearly hand, +And gently urge her course along, + Toward the beach of speckled sand; + And, as he lightly leapt to land, +They bade adieu with nod and bow, +Then gayly kissed each little hand, +And dropped in the crystal deep below. + +XXIV. + +A moment staied the fairy there; +He kissed the beach and breathed a prayer, +Then spread his wings of gilded blue, +And on to the elfin court he flew; +As ever ye saw a bubble rise, +And shine with a thousand changing dyes, +Till lessening far through ether driven, +It mingles with the hues of heaven: +As, at the glimpse of morning pale, +The lance-fly spreads his silken sail, +And gleams with blendings soft and bright, +Till lost in the shades of fading night; +So rose from earth the lovely Fay-- +So vanished, far in heaven away! + +* * * * * + +Up, Fairy! quit thy chick-weed bower, +The cricket has called the second hour, +Twice again, and the lark will rise +To kiss the streaking of the skies-- +Up! thy charmed armour don, +Thou'lt need it ere the night be gone. + +XXV. + +He put his acorn helmet on; +It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down: +The corslet plate that guarded his breast +Was once the wild bee's golden vest; +His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, +Was formed of the wings of butterflies; +His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, +Studs of gold on a ground of green; +And the quivering lance which he brandished bright, +Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. + Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed; +He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; +He drove his spurs of the cockle seed, + And away like a glance of thought he flew, +To skim the heavens and follow far +The fiery trail of the rocket-star. + +XXVI. + +The moth-fly, as he shot in air, +Crept under the leaf, and hid her there; +The katy-did forgot its lay, +The prowling gnat fled fast away, +The fell mosqueto checked his drone +And folded his wings till the Fay was gone, +And the wily beetle dropped his head, +And fell on the ground as if he were dead; +They crouched them close in the darksome shade, + They quaked all o'er with awe and fear, +For they had felt the blue-bent blade, + And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear; +Many a time on a summer's night, +When the sky was clear and the moon was bright, +They had been roused from the haunted ground, +By the yelp and bay of the fairy hound; +They had heard the tiny bugle horn, +They had heard of twang of the maize-silk string, +When the vine-twig bows were tightly drawn, +And the nettle-shaft through the air was borne, +Feathered with down the hum-bird's wing. +And now they deemed the courier ouphe, + Some hunter sprite of the elfin ground; +And they watched till they saw him mount the roof + That canopies the world around; +Then glad they left their covert lair, +And freaked about in the midnight air. + +XXVII. + +Up to the vaulted firmament +His path the fire-fly courser bent, +And at every gallop on the wind, +He flung a glittering spark behind; +He flies like a feather in the blast +Till the first light cloud in heaven is past, + But the shapes of air have begun their work, +And a drizzly mist is round him cast, + He cannot see through the mantle murk, +He shivers with cold, but he urges fast, + Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade, +He lashes his steed and spurs amain, +For shadowy hands have twitched the rein, + And flame-shot tongues around him played, +And near him many a fiendish eye +Glared with a fell malignity, +And yells of rage, and shrieks of fear, +Came screaming on his startled ear. + +XXVIII. + +His wings are wet around his breast, +The plume hangs dripping from his crest, +His eyes are blur'd with the lightning's glare, +And his ears are stunned with the thunder's blare, +But he gave a shout, and his blade he drew, + He thrust before and he struck behind, +Till he pierced their cloudy bodies through, + And gashed their shadowy limbs of wind; +Howling the misty spectres flew, + They rend the air with frightful cries, +For he has gained the welkin blue, + And the land of clouds beneath him lies. + +XXIX. + +Up to the cope careering swift + In breathless motion fast, +Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift, + Or the sea-roc rides the blast, +The sapphire sheet of eve is shot, + The sphered moon is past, +The earth but seems a tiny blot + On a sheet of azure cast. +O! it was sweet in the clear moonlight, + To tread the starry plain of even, +To meet the thousand eyes of night, + And feel the cooling breath of heaven! +But the Elfin made no stop or stay +Till he came to the bank of the milky-way, +Then he checked his courser's foot, +And watched for the glimpse of the planet-shoot. + +XXX. + +Sudden along the snowy tide + That swelled to meet their footstep's fall, +The sylphs of heaven were seen to glide, + Attired in sunset's crimson pall; +Around the Fay they weave the dance, + They skip before him on the plain, +And one has taken his wasp-sting lance, + And one upholds his bridle rein; +With warblings wild they lead him on + To where through clouds of amber seen, +Studded with stars, resplendent shone + The palace of the sylphid queen. +Its spiral columns gleaming bright +Were streamers of the northern light; +Its curtain's light and lovely flush +Was of the morning's rosy blush, +And the ceiling fair that rose aboon +The white and feathery fleece of noon. + +XXXI. + +But oh! how fair the shape that lay + Beneath a rainbow bending bright, +She seemed to the entranced Fay + The loveliest of the forms of light; +Her mantle was the purple rolled + At twilight in the west afar; +'Twas tied with threads of dawning gold, + And buttoned with a sparkling star. +Her face was like the lily roon + That veils the vestal planet's hue; +Her eyes, two beamlets from the moon, + Set floating in the welkin blue. +Her hair is like the sunny beam, +And the diamond gems which round it gleam +Are the pure drops of dewy even +That ne'er have left their native heaven. + +XXXII. + +She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite, + And they leapt with smiles, for well I ween +Never before in the bowers of light + Had the form of an earthly Fay been seen. +Long she looked in his tiny face; + Long with his butterfly cloak she played; +She smoothed his wings of azure lace, + And handled the tassel of his blade; +And as he told in accents low +The story of his love and wo, +She felt new pains in her bosom rise, + And the tear-drop started in her eyes. +And 'O sweet spirit of earth,' she cried, + 'Return no more to your woodland height, +But ever here with me abide + In the land of everlasting light! +Within the fleecy drift we'll lie, + We'll hang upon the rainbow's rim; +And all the jewels of the sky +Around thy brow shall brightly beam! +And thou shalt bathe thee in the stream + That rolls its whitening foam aboon, +And ride upon the lightning's gleam, + And dance upon the orbed moon! +We'll sit within the Pleiad ring, + We'll rest on Orion's starry belt, +And I will bid my sylphs to sing + The song that makes the dew-mist melt; +Their harps are of the umber shade, + That hides the blush of waking day, +And every gleamy string is made + Of silvery moonshine's lengthened ray; +And thou shalt pillow on my breast, + While heavenly breathings float around, +And, with the sylphs of ether blest, + Forget the joys of fairy ground.' + +XXXIII. + +She was lovely and fair to see +And the elfin's heart beat fitfully; +But lovelier far, and still more fair, +The earthly form imprinted there; +Nought he saw in the heavens above +Was half so dear as his mortal love, +For he thought upon her looks so meek, +And he thought of the light flush on her cheek; +Never again might he bask and lie +On that sweet cheek and moonlight eye, +But in his dreams her form to see, +To clasp her in his reverie, +To think upon his virgin bride, +Was worth all heaven and earth beside. + +XXXIV. + +'Lady,' he cried, 'I have sworn to-night, +On the word of a fairy knight, +To do my sentence-task aright; +My honour scarce is free from stain, +I may not soil its snows again; +Betide me weal, betide me wo, +Its mandate must be answered now.' +Her bosom heaved with many a sigh, +The tear was in her drooping eye; + But she led him to the palace gate, +And called the sylphs who hovered there, + And bade them fly and bring him straight +Of clouds condensed a sable car. +With charm and spell she blessed it there, +From all the fiends of upper air; +Then round him cast the shadowy shroud, +And tied his steed behind the cloud; +And pressed his hand as she bade him fly +Far to the verge of the northern sky, +For by its wane and wavering light +There was a star would fall to-night. + +XXXV. + +Borne after on the wings of the blast, +Northward away, he speeds him fast, +And his courser follows the cloudy wain +Till the hoof-strokes fall like pattering rain. +The clouds roll backward as he flies, +Each flickering star behind him lies, +And he has reached the northern plain, +And backed his fire-fly steed again, +Ready to follow in its flight +The streaming of the rocket-light. + +XXXVI. + +The star is yet in the vault of heaven, + But its rocks in the summer gale; +And now 'tis fitful and uneven, + And now 'tis deadly pale; +And now 'tis wrapp'd in sulphur smoke, + And quenched is its rayless beam, +And now with a rattling thunder-stroke + It bursts in flash and flame. +As swift as the glance of the arrowy lance + That the storm-spirit flings from high, +The star-shot flew o'er the welkin blue, + As it fell from the sheeted sky. +As swift as the wind in its trail behind + The elfin gallops along, +The fiends of the clouds are bellowing loud, + But the sylphid charm is strong; +He gallops unhurt in the shower of fire, + While the cloud-fiends fly from the blaze; +He watches each flake till its sparks expire, + And rides in the light of its rays. +But he drove his steed to the lightning's speed, + And caught a glimmering spark; +Then wheeled around to the fairy ground, + And sped through the midnight dark. + +* * * * * + +Ouphe and goblin! imp and sprite! + Elf of eve! and starry Fay! +Ye that love the moon's soft light, + Hither--hither wend your way; +Twine ye in the jocund ring, + Sing and trip it merrily, +Hand to hand, and wing to wing, + Round the wild witch-hazel tree. + +Hail the wanderer again, + With dance and song, and lute and lyre, +Pure his wing and strong his chain, + And doubly bright his fairy fire. +Twine ye in an airy round, + Brush the dew and print the lea; +Skip and gambol, hop and bound, + Round the wild witch-hazel tree. + +The beetle guards our holy ground, + He flies about the haunted place, +And if mortal there be found, + He hums in his ears and flaps his face; +The leaf-harp sounds our roundelay, + The owlet's eyes our lanterns be; +Thus we sing, and dance and play, + Round the wild witch-hazel tree. + +But hark! from tower on tree-top high, + The sentry elf his call has made, +A streak is in the eastern sky, + Shapes of moonlight! flit and fade! +The hill-tops gleam in morning's spring, +The sky-lark shakes his dappled wing, +The day-glimpse glimmers on the lawn, +The cock has crowed, the Fays are gone. + + + + +TO A FRIEND. + + + "You damn me with faint praise." + +I. + + Yes, faint was my applause and cold my praise, + Though soul was glowing in each polished line; + But nobler subjects claim the poet's lays, + A brighter glory waits a muse like thine. + Let amorous fools in love-sick measure pine; + Let Strangford whimper on, in fancied pain, + And leave to Moore his rose leaves and his vine; + Be thine the task a higher crown to gain, +The envied wreath that decks the patriot's holy strain. + +II. + + Yet not in proud triumphal song alone, + Or martial ode, or sad sepulchral dirge, + There needs no voice to make our glories known; + There needs no voice the warrior's soul to urge + To tread the bounds of nature's stormy verge; + Columbia still shall win the battle's prize; + But be it thine to bid her mind emerge + To strike her harp, until its soul arise +From the neglected shade, where low in dust it lies. + +III. + + Are there no scenes to touch the poet's soul? + No deeds of arms to wake the lordly strain? + Shall Hudson's billows unregarded roll? + Has Warren fought, Montgomery died in vain? + Shame! that while every mountain stream and plain + Hath theme for truth's proud voice or fancy's wand, + No native bard the patriot harp hath ta'en, + But left to minstrels of a foreign strand +To sing the beauteous scenes of nature's loveliest land. + +IV. + + Oh! for a seat on Appalachia's brow, + That I might scan the glorious prospect round, + Wild waving woods, and rolling floods below, + Smooth level glades and fields with grain embrown'd, + High heaving hills, with tufted forests crown'd, + Rearing their tall tops to the heaven's blue dome, + And emerald isles, like banners green unwound, + Floating along the lake, while round them roam +Bright helms of billowy blue and plumes of dancing foam. + +V. + + 'Tis true no fairies haunt our verdant meads, + No grinning imps deform our blazing hearth; + Beneath the kelpie's fang no traveller bleeds, + Nor gory vampyre taints our holy earth, + Nor spectres stalk to frighten harmless mirth, + Nor tortured demon howls adown the gale; + Fair reason checks these monsters in their birth. + Yet have we lay of love and horrid tale +Would dim the manliest eye and make the bravest pale. + +VI. + + Where is the stony eye that hath not shed + Compassion's heart-drops o'er the sweet Mc Rea? + Through midnight's wilds by savage bandits led, + "Her heart is sad--her love is far away!" + Elate that lover waits the promised day + When he shall clasp his blooming bride again-- + Shine on, sweet visions! dreams of rapture, play! + Soon the cold corse of her he loved in vain +Shall blight his withered heart and fire his frenzied brain. + +VII. + + Romantic Wyoming! could none be found + Of all that rove thy Eden groves among, + To wake a native harp's untutored sound, + And give thy tale of wo the voice of song? + Oh! if description's cold and nerveless tongue + From stranger harps such hallowed strains could call, + How doubly sweet the descant wild had rung, + From one who, lingering round thy ruined wall, +Had plucked thy mourning flowers and wept thy timeless fall. + +VIII. + + The Huron chief escaped from foemen nigh, + His frail bark launches on Niagara's tides, + "Pride in his port, defiance in his eye," + Singing his song of death the warrior glides; + In vain they yell along the river sides, + In vain the arrow from its sheaf is torn, + Calm to his doom the willing victim rides, + And, till adown the roaring torrent borne, +Mocks them with gesture proud, and laughs their rage to scorn. + +IX. + + But if the charms of daisied hill and vale, + And rolling flood, and towering rock sublime, + If warrior deed or peasant's lowly tale + Of love or wo should fail to wake the rhyme, + If to the wildest heights of song you climb, + (Tho' some who know you less, might cry, beware!) + Onward! I say--your strains shall conquer time; + Give your bright genius wing, and hope to share +Imagination's worlds--the ocean, earth, and air. + +X. + + Arouse, my friend--let vivid fancy soar, + Look with creative eye on nature's face, + Bid airy sprites in wild Niagara roar, + And view in every field a fairy race. + Spur thy good Pacolet to speed apace, + And spread a train of nymphs on every shore; + Or if thy muse would woo a ruder grace, + The Indian's evil Manitou's explore, +And rear the wondrous tale of legendary lore. + +XI. + + Away! to Susquehannah's utmost springs, + Where, throned in mountain mist, Areouski reigns, + Shrouding in lurid clouds his plumeless wings, + And sternly sorrowing o'er his tribes remains; + His was the arm, like comet ere it wanes + That tore the streamy lightnings from the skies, + And smote the mammoth of the southern plains; + Wild with dismay the Creek affrighted flies, +While in triumphant pride Kanawa's eagles rise. + +XII. + + Or westward far, where dark Miami wends, + Seek that fair spot as yet to fame unknown; + Where, when the vesper dew of heaven descends, + Soft music breathes in many a melting tone, + At times so sadly sweet it seems the moan + Of some poor Ariel penanced in the rock; + Anon a louder burst--a scream! a groan! + And now amid the tempest's reeling shock, +Gibber, and shriek, and wail--and fiend-like laugh and mock. + +XIII. + + Or climb the Pallisado's lofty brows, + Were dark Omana waged the war of hell, + Till, waked to wrath, the mighty spirit rose + And pent the demons in their prison cell; + Full on their head the uprooted mountain fell, + Enclosing all within its horrid womb + Straight from the teeming earth the waters swell, + And pillared rocks arise in cheerless gloom +Around the drear abode--their last eternal tomb! + +XIV. + + Be these your future themes--no more resign + The soul of song to laud your lady's eyes; + Go! kneel a worshipper at nature's shrine! + For you her fields are green, and fair her skies! + For you her rivers flow, her hills arise! + And will you scorn them all, to pour forth tame + And heartless lays of feigned or fancied sighs? + Still will you cloud the muse? nor blush for shame +To cast away renown, and hide your head from fame? + + + + +EXTRACTS FROM +LEON. +AN UNFINISHED POEM. + + +* * * * * + +It is a summer evening, calm and fair, +A warm, yet freshening glow is in the air; +Along its bank, the cool stream wanders slow, +Like parting friends that linger as they go. +The willows, as its waters meekly glide, +Bend their dishevelled tresses to the tide, +And seem to give it, with a moaning sigh, +A farewell touch of tearful sympathy. +Each dusky copse is clad in darkest green: +A blackening mass, just edged with silver sheen +From yon clear moon, who in her glassy face +Seems to reflect the risings of the place. +For on her still, pale orb, the eye may see +Dim spots of shadowy brown, like distant tree +Or far-off hillocks on a moonlight lea. +The stars have lit in heaven their lamps of gold, +The viewless dew falls lightly on the wold, +The gentle air, that softly sweeps the leaves, +A strain of faint, unearthly music weaves; +As when the harp of heaven remotely plays, +Or cygnet's wail--or song of sorrowing fays +That float amid the moonshine glimmerings pale, +On wings of woven air in some enchanted vale. + +It is an eve that drops a heavenly balm, +To lull the feelings to a sober calm, +To bid wild passion's fiery flush depart; +And smooth the troubled waters of the heart; +To give a tranquil fixedness to grief, +A cherished gloom, that wishes not relief. + +Torn is that heart, and bitter are its throes, +That cannot feel on such a night, repose; +And yet one breast there is that breathes this air, +An eye that wanders o'er the prospect fair, +That sees yon placid moon, and the pure sky +Of mild, unclouded blue; and still that eye +Is thrown in restless vacancy around, +Or cast, in gloomy trance, on the cold ground; +And still, that breast with maddening passion burns, +And hatred, love, and sorrow, rule by turns. + +A lovely figure! and in happier hour, +When pleasure laugh'd abroad from hall and bower, +The general eye had deem'd her smiling face +The brightest jewel in the courtly place: +So glossy is her hair's ensabled wreath, +So glowing warm the eye that burns beneath +With so much graceful sweetness of address, +And such a form of rounded slenderness; +Ah! where is he on whom these beauties shine, +But deems a spotless soul inhabits such a shrine? + +And yet a keen observer might espy +Strange passions lurking in her deep black eye, +And in the lines of her fine lip, a soul +That in its every feeling spurned control. +They passed unnoted--who will stop to trace +A sullying spot on beauty's sparkling face? +And no one deemed, amid her glances sweet, +Hers was a bosom of impetuous heat; +A heart too wildly in its joys elate, +Formed but to madly love--or madly hate; +A spirit of strong throbs, and steadfast will; +To doat, detest, to die for, or to kill; +Which, like the Arab chief, would fiercely dare +To stab the heart she might no longer share; +And yet so tender, if he loved again, +Would die to save his breast one moment's pain. + +But he who cast his gaze upon her now, +And read the traces written on her brow, +Had scarce believed hers was that form of light +That beamed like fabled wonder on the sight; +Her raven hair hung down in loosen'd tress +Before her wan cheek's pallid ghastliness; +And, thro' its thick locks, showed the deadly white, +Like marble glimpses of a tomb, at night. +In fixed and horrid musings now she stands, +Her eyes now bent to earth, and her cold hands, +Prest to her heart, now wildly thrown on high, +They wander o'er her brow--and now a sigh +Breaks deep and full--and, more composedly, +She half exclaims--"No! no!--it cannot be; +"He loves not, never loved-- not even when +"He pressed my wedded hand--I knew it then; +"And yet--fool that I was--I saw he strove +"In vain to kindle pity into love. +"But Florence! she so loved--a sister too! +"My earliest, dearest playmate--one who grew +"Upon my very heart--to rend it so! +"His falsehood I could bear--but hers! ah! no. +"She is not false--I feel she loves me yet, +"And if my boding bosom could forget +"Its wild imaginings, with what sweet pain +"I'd clasp my Florence to my breast again." +With that came many a thought of days gone by, +Remembered joys of mirthful infancy; +And youth's gay frolic, and the short-lived flow +Of showering tears, in childhood's fleeting wo, +And life's maturer friendship--and the sense +Of heart-warm, open, fearless confidence; +All these came thronging with a tender call, +And her own Florence mingled with them all. +And softened feelings rose amid her pain, +While from her eyes, the clouds, melted in gentle rain. + +A hectic pleasure flushed her faded face; +It fled--and deeper paleness took its place; +Then a cold shudder thrill'd her--and, at last, +Her lip a smile of bitter sarcasm cast, +As if she scorned herself, that she could be +A moment lulled by that sweet sophistry; +For in that little minute memory's sting +Gave word and look, sigh, gesture--every thing, +To bid these dear delusive phantoms fly, +And fix her fears in dreadful certainty. + + It traced the very progress of their love, +From the first meeting in the locust grove; +When from the chase Leon came bounding there, +Backing his courser with a noble air; +His brown cheek flushed with healthful exercise, +And his warm spirits leaping in his eyes; +It told how lovely looked her sister then, +To long-lost friends, and home just come again; +How on her cheek the tears of meeting lay, +That tear which only feeling hearts can pay; +While the quick pleasure glistened in her eye, +Like clouds and sunshine in an April sky; +And then it told, as their acquaintance grew, +How close the unseen bonds of union drew +Their souls together, and how pleased they were +The same blythe pastimes and delights to share; +How the same chord in each at once would strike, +Their taste, their wishes, and their joys alike. + + All this was innocent, but soon there came +Blushes and starts of consciousness and shame; +That, when she entered, upon either cheek +The hasty blood in guilty red would speak +Of something that should not be known--and still +Sighs half suppressed seemed struggling with the will. +It told how oft at eve was Leon gone +In moody wandering to the wood alone; +And in the night, how many a broken dream +Of bliss, or terror, seemed to shake his frame. +How Florence too, in long abstracted fit +Of soul-wrapt musing, for whole hours would sit; +Nor even the power of music, friend, or book, +Could chase her deep forgetfulness of look; +And how, when questioned--with an indrawn sigh, +In vague and far-off phrase, she made reply, +And smiled and struggled to be gay and free, +And then relapsed in dreaming reverie. +How when of Leon she was forced to speak, +Unbidden crimson mantled in her cheek; +And when he entered, how her eye would swim, +And strive to look on every one but him; +Yet, by unconscious fascination led, +In quick short glance each moment tow'rds him fled. +How he, too, seemed to shun her speech and gaze, +And yet he always lingered where she was; +Though nothing in his aspect or his air +Told that he knew she was in presence there; +But an appearance of constrained distress, +And a dull tongue of moveless silentness, +And a down drooping eye of gloom and sadness, +Oh! how unlike his former face of gladness. +"'Tis plain! too plain! and I am lost," she cried; +And in that thought her last good feeling died. + + That thought of hopeless sorrow seemed to dart +A thousand stings at once into her heart; +But a strong effort quelled it, and she gave +The next to hatred, vengeance, and the grave. +Her face was calmly stern, and but a glare +Within her eyes--there was no feature there +That told what lashing fiends her inmates were; +Within--there was no thought to bid her swerve +From her intent--but every strained nerve +Was settled and bent up with terrible force, +To some deep deed, far, far beyond remorse; +No glimpse of mercy's light her purpose crost, +Love, nature, pity, in its depths were lost; +Or lent an added fury to the ire +That seared her soul with unconsuming fire; +All that was dear in the wide earth was gone, +She loved but two, and these she doted on +With passionate ardour--and the close strong press +Of woman's heart-cored, clinging tenderness; +These links were torn, and now she stood alone, +Bereft of all, her husband, sister--gone! +Ah! who can tell that ne'er has known such fate, +What wild and dreadful strength it gives to hate? +What had she left? Revenge! Revenge! was there; +He crushed remorse and wrestled down despair: +Held his red torch to memory's page, and threw +A bloody stain on every line she drew; +She felt dark pleasure with her frenzy blend, +And hugged him to her heart, and called him friend. + +When sorrowing clouds the face of heaven deform, +And hope's bright star sets darkly in the storm, +Around us ghastly shapes and phantoms swim, +And all beyond is formless, vague, and dim, +Or life's cold barren path before us lies, +A wild and weary waste of tears and sighs; +From the lorn heart each sweetening solace gone, +Abandoned, friendless, withered, lost, and lone; +And when with keener pangs we bleed to know +That hands beloved have struck the deepest blow; +That friends we deemed most true, and held most dear, +Have stretched the pall of death o'er pleasure's bier; +Repaid our trusting faith with serpent guile, +Cursed with a kiss, and stabbed beneath a smile; +What then remains for souls of tender mould? +One last and silent refuge, calm and cold-- +A resting place for misery's gentle slave; +Hearts break but once, no wrongs can reach the grave. + +Rest ye, mild spirits of afflicted worth! +Sweet is your slumber in the quiet earth; +And soon the voice of heaven shall bid you rise +To meet rewarding smiles in yonder skies. +But where, for solace, shall the bosom turn +For death too strong--for tears--too proudly stern? +When shall the lulling dews of peace descend +On hearts that cannot break and will not bend? +Ah! never, never--they are doomed to feel +Pains that no balm of heaven or earth can heal; +To live in groans, and yield their parting breath +Without a joy in life--or hope in death. +Yet, for a while, one living hope remains, +That nerves each fibre and the soul sustains; +One desperate hope, whose agonizing throes +Are bitterer far than all the worst of woes; +A hope of crime and horrors, wild and strange +As demon thoughts--that hope is thine, Revenge! +'Twas this that gave, oh! Ellinor, to thee +A strength to bear thy matchless misery: +Though the hot blood ran boiling in her brain, +And rolled a tide of fire through every vein, +Though many a rushing voice of blighted bliss +Struck on her mental ears, like adders' hiss; +That hope gave gloomy fierceness to her eye, +Dash'd down the tear, repress'd the unloading sigh; +Fixed her wan quivering lip, and steeled her breast +To crush the hearts that robbed her own of rest. + +She wound her way within a heavy shade +Of arching boughs, in broad-spread leaves arrayed; +Which, clustering close and thick, shut out the light, +And tinged with black the shadowy robe of night; +Save here and there a melancholy spark +Of flickering moonshine glimmered through the dark, +Cheerless and dim, as when upon a pall, +Through suffering tears, the looks of sorrow fall; +But opening farther on, on either side +A wider space the severing trees divide; +And longer gleams upon the pathway meet, +And the soft grass is wet beneath her feet. +And now emerging from the darksome shade, +She pressed the silken carpet of the glade. +Beyond the green, within its western close, +A little vine-hung, leafy arbor rose, +Where the pale lustre of the moony flood +Dimm'd the vermillion'd woodbine's scarlet bud; +And glancing through the foliage fluttering round, +In tiny circles gemm'd the freckled ground. +Beside the porch, beneath the friendly screen +Of two tall trees, a mossy bank was seen; +And all around, amid the silvery dew, +The wild-wood pansy rear'd her petals blue; +And gold cups and the meadow cowslip red, +Upon the evening air their odours shed. + +Unheeded all the grove's deep gloom had been, +Unseen the moonlight brightness of the green; +In vain the stream's blue burnish met her eye, +Lovely its wave, but pass'd unnoticed by: +The airs of heaven had breath'd around her brow +Their cooling sighs--she felt them not--but now +That lonely bower appeared, and with a start +Convulsive shudders thrill'd her throbbing heart. +For there, in days, alas! for ever gone, +When love's young torch with beams of rapture shone, +When she had felt her heart's impassioned swell, +And almost deem'd her Leon loved as well; +There had she sat, beneath the evening skies, +Felt his warm kiss and heard his murmur'd sighs; +Hung on his breast, caressing and carest, +Her husband smiled, and Ellinor was blest. + +And when his injured country's rights to shield, +Blazed his red banner on the battle field, +There had she lingered in the shadows dim, +And sat till morning watch and thought of him; +And wept to think that she might not be there, +His toils, his dangers, and his wounds to share. +And when the foe had bowed beneath his brand, +And to his home he led his conquering band, +There she first caught his long-expected face, +And sprung to smile and weep in his embrace. + +These scenes of bliss across her memory fled, +Like lights that haunt the chambers of the dead, +She saw the bower, and read the image there +Of joys that had been, and of woes that were; +She clench'd her hand in agony, and cast +A glance of tears upon it as she past, +A look of weeping sorrow--'twas the last! +She check'd the gush of feeling, turned her face, +And faster sped along her hurried pace. +No longer now from Leon's lips were heard +The sigh of bliss--the rapture breathing word; +No longer now upon his features dwelt +The glance that sweetly thrills--the looks that melt; +No speaking gaze of fond attachment told, +But all was dull and gloomy, sad and cold. +Yet he was kind, or laboured to be kind, +And strove to hide the workings of his mind; +And cloak'd his heart, to soothe his wife's distress, +Under a mask of tender gentleness. +It was in vain--for ah! how light and frail +To love's keen eye is falsehood's gilded veil. +Sweet winning words may for a time beguile, +Professions lull, and oaths deceive a while; +But soon the heart, in vague suspicion tost, +Must feel a void unfilled, a something lost; +Something scarce heeded, and unprized till gone, +Felt while unseen, and, tho' unnoticed, known: +A hidden witchery, a nameless charm, +Too fine for actions and for words too warm; +That passing all the worthless forms of art, +Eludes the sense, and only woos the heart: +A hallowed spell, by fond affection wove, +The mute, but matchless eloquence of love! + +* * * * * + +Oh! there were times, when to my heart there came +All that the soul can feel, or fancy frame; +The summer party in the open air, +When sunny eyes and cordial hearts were there; +Where light came sparkling thro' the greenwood eaves, +Like mirthful eyes that laugh upon the leaves; +Where every bush and tree in all the scene, +In wind-kiss'd wavings shake their wings of green, +And all the objects round about dispense +Reviving freshness to the awakened sense; +The golden corslet of the humble bee, +The antic kid that frolics round the lea; +Or purple lance-flies circling round the place, +On their light shards of green, an airy race; +Or squirrel glancing from the nut-wood shade +An arch black eye, half pleas'd and half afraid; +Or bird quick darting through the foliage dim, +Or perched and twittering on the tendril slim; +Or poised in ether sailing slowly on, +With plumes that change and glisten in the sun, +Like rainbows fading into mist--and then, +On the bright cloud renewed and changed again; +Or soaring upward, while his full sweet throat +Pours clear and strong a pleasure-speaking note; +And sings in nature's language wild and free, +His song of praise for light and liberty. + +And when within, with poetry and song, +Music and books led the glad hours along; +Worlds of the visioned minstrel, fancy-wove, +Tales of old time, of chivalry and love; +Or converse calm, or wit-shafts sprinkled round, +Like beams from gems, too light and fine to wound; +With spirits sparkling as the morning's sun, +Light as the dancing wave he smiles upon, +Like his own course--alas! too soon to know +Bright suns may set in storms, and gay hearts sink in wo. + +* * * * * + + + + +NIAGARA. + + +I. + +Roar, raging torrent! and thou, mighty river, +Pour thy white foam on the valley below; +Frown, ye dark mountains! and shadow for ever +The deep rocky bed where the wild rapids flow. +The green sunny glade, and the smooth flowing fountain, +Brighten the home of the coward and slave; +The flood and the forest, the rock and the mountain, +Rear on their bosoms the free and the brave. + +II. + +Nurslings of nature, I mark your bold bearing, +Pride in each aspect and strength in each form, +Hearts of warm impulse, and souls of high daring, +Born in the battle and rear'd in the storm. +The red levin flash and the thunder's dread rattle, +The rock-riven wave and the war trumpet's breath, +The din of the tempest, the yell of the battle, +Nerve your steeled bosoms to danger and death. + +III. + +High on the brow of the Alps' snowy towers +The mountain Swiss measures his rock-breasted moors, +O'er his lone cottage the avalanche lowers, +Round its rude portal the spring-torrent pours. +Sweet is his sleep amid peril and danger, +Warm is his greeting to kindred and friends, +Open his hand to the poor and the stranger, +Stern on his foeman his sabre descends. + +IV. + +Lo! where the tempest the dark waters sunder +Slumbers the sailor boy, reckless and brave, +Warm'd by the lighting and lulled by the thunder, +Fann'd by the whirlwind and rock'd on the wave; +Wildly the winter wind howls round his pillow, +Cold on his bosom the spray showers fall; +Creaks the strained mast at the rush of the billow, +Peaceful he slumbers, regardless of all. + +V. + +Mark how the cheek of the warrior flushes, +As the battle drum beats and the war torches glare; +Like a blast of the north to the onset he rushes, +And his wide-waving falchion gleams brightly in air. +Around him the death-shot of foemen are flying, +At his feet friends and comrades are yielding their breath; +He strikes to the groans of the wounded and dying, +But the war cry he strikes with is, 'conquest or death!' + +VI. + +Then pour thy broad wave like a flood from the heavens, +Each son that thou rearest, in the battle's wild shock, +When the death-speaking note of the trumpet is given, +Will charge like thy torrent or stand like thy rock. +Let his roof be the cloud and the rock be his pillow, +Let him stride the rough mountain, or toss on the foam, +He will strike fast and well on the field or the billow, +In triumph and glory, for God and his home! + + + + +SONG. + + +Oh! go to sleep, my baby dear, + And I will hold thee on my knee; +Thy mother's in her winding sheet, + And thou art all that's left to me. +My hairs are white with grief and age, + I've borne the weight of every ill, +And I would lay me with my child, + But thou art left to love me still. + +Should thy false father see thy face, + The tears would fill his cruel e'e, +But he has scorned thy mother's wo, + And he shall never look on thee: +But I will rear thee up alone, + And with me thou shalt aye remain; +For thou wilt have thy mother's smile, + And I shall see my child again. + + + + +SONG. + + +Oh the tear is in my eye, and my heart it is breaking, +Thou hast fled from me, Connor, and left me forsaken; +Bright and warm was our morning, but soon has it faded, +For I gave thee a true heart, and thou hast betrayed it. + +Thy footsteps I followed in darkness and danger, +From the home of my love to the land of the stranger; +Thou wert mine through the tempest, the blight, and the burning; +Could I think thou wouldst change when the morn was returning. + +Yet peace to thy heart, though from mine it must sever, +May she love thee as I loved, alone and for ever; +I may weep for thy loss, but my faith is unshaken, +And the heart thou hast widowed will bless thee in breaking. + + + + +WRITTEN IN A LADY'S ALBUM. + + +Grant me, I cried, some spell of art, + To turn with all a lover's care, +That spotless page, my Eva's heart, + And write my burning wishes there. + +But Love, by faithless Laia taught + How frail is woman's holiest vow, +Look'd down, while grace attempered thought + Sate serious on his baby brow. + +"Go! blot her album," cried the sage, + "There none but bards a place may claim; +But woman's heart's a worthless page, + Where every fool may write his name." + +Until by time or fate decayed, + That line and leaf shall never part; +Ah! who can tell how soon shall fade + The lines of love from woman's heart. + + + + +LINES +TO A LADY, ON HEARING HER SING "CUSHLAMACHREE." + + +Yes! heaven protect thee, thou gem of the ocean; + Dear land of my sires, though distant thy shores; +Ere my heart cease to love thee, its latest emotion, + The last dying throbs of its pulse must be o'er. + +And dark were the bosom, and cold and unfeeling, + That tamely could listen unmoved at the call, +When woman, the warm soul of melody stealing, + Laments for her country and sighs o'er its fall. + +Sing on, gentle warbler, the tear-drop appearing + Shall fall for the woes of the queen of the sea; +And the spirit that breathes in the harp of green Erin, + Descending, shall hail thee her "Cushlamachree." + + + + +LINES +WRITTEN ON LEAVING NEW ROCHELLE. + + +Whene'er thy wandering footstep bends + Its pathway to the Hermit tree, +Among its cordial band of friends, + Sweet Mary! wilt thou number me? + +Though all too few the hours have roll'd + That saw the stranger linger here, +In memory's volume let them hold + One little spot to friendship dear. + +I oft have thought how sweet 'twould be + To steal the bird of Eden's art; +And leave behind a trace of me + On every kind and friendly heart, + +And like the breeze in fragrance rolled, + To gather as I wander by, +From every soul of kindred mould, + Some touch of cordial sympathy. + +'Tis the best charm in life's dull dream, + To feel that yet there linger here +Bright eyes that look with fond esteem, + And feeling hearts that hold me dear. + + + + +HOPE. + + +See through yon cloud that rolls in wrath, + One little star benignant peep, +To light along their trackless path + The wanderers of the stormy deep. + +And thus, oh Hope! thy lovely form + In sorrow's gloomy night shall be +The sun that looks through cloud and storm + Upon a dark and moonless sea. + +When heaven is all serene and fair, + Full many a brighter gem we meet; +'Tis when the tempest hovers there, + Thy beam is most divinely sweet. + +The rainbow, when the sun declines, + Like faithless friend will disappear; +Thy light, dear star! more brightly shines + When all is wail and weeping here. + +And though Aurora's stealing beam + May wake a morning of delight, +'Tis only thy consoling beam + Will smile amid affliction's night. + + + + +FRAGMENT. + + +I. + +Tuscara! thou art lovely now, + Thy woods, that frown'd in sullen strength +Like plumage on a giant's brow, + Have bowed their massy pride at length. +The rustling maize is green around, + The sheep is in the Congar's bed; +And clear the ploughman's whistlings sound + Where war-whoop's pealed o'er mangled dead. +Fair cots around thy breast are set, + Like pearls upon a coronet; +And in Aluga's vale below +The gilded grain is moving slow +Like yellow moonlight on the sea, +Where waves are swelling peacefully; +As beauty's breast, when quiet dreams + Come tranquilly and gently by; +When all she loves and hopes for seems + To float in smiles before her eye. + +II. + +And hast thou lost the grandeur rude + That made me breathless, when at first + Upon my infant sight you burst, +The monarch of the solitude? + No; there is yet thy turret rock, +The watch-tower of the skies, the lair + Of Indian Gods, who, in the shock +Of bursting thunders, slumbered there; +And trim thy bosom is arrayed + In labour's green and glittering vest, +And yet thy forest locks of shade + Shake stormy on that turret crest. +Still hast thou left the rocks, the floods, + And nature is the loveliest then, +When first amid her caves and woods + She feels the busy tread of men; +When every tree, and bush, and flower, + Springs wildly in its native grace; +Ere art exerts her boasted power, + That brightened only to deface. + +III. + +Yes! thou art lovelier now than ever; + How sweet 'twould be, when all the air +In moonlight swims, along thy river + To couch upon the grass, and hear +Niagara's everlasting voice, + Far in the deep blue west away; +That dreaming and poetic noise + We mark not in the glare of day, +Oh! how unlike its torrent-cry, + When o'er the brink the tide is driven, +As if the vast and sheeted sky + In thunder fell from heaven. + +IV. + +Were I but there, the daylight fled, + With that smooth air, the stream, the sky, +And lying on that minstrel bed + Of nature's own embroidery +With those long tearful willows o'er me, + That weeping fount, that solemn light, +With scenes of sighing tales before me, + And one green, maiden grave in sight; +How mournfully the strain would rise + Of that true maid, whose fate can yet +Draw rainy tears from stubborn eyes; + From lids that ne'er before were wet. +She lies not here, but that green grave + Is sacred from the plough--and flowers, +Snow-drops, and valley-lilies, wave + Amid the grass; and other showers +Than those of heaven have fallen there. + + + + +TO --- + + +When that eye of light shall in darkness fall, +And thy bosom be shrouded in death's cold pall, +When the bloom of that rich red lip shall fade, +And thy head on its pillow of dust be laid; + +Oh! then thy spirit shall see how true +Are the holy vows I have breathed to you; +My form shall moulder thy grave beside, +And in the blue heavens I'll seek my bride. + +Then we'll tell, as we tread yon azure sphere, +Of the woes we have known while lingering here; +And our spirits shall joy that, their pilgrimage o'er, +They have met in the heavens to sever no more. + + + + +LINES. + + +Day gradual fades, in evening gray, + Its last faint beam hath fled, +And sinks the sun's declining ray + In ocean's wavy bed. +So o'er the loves and joys of youth + Thy waves, Indifference, roll; +So mantles round our days of truth + That death-pool of the soul. + +Spreads o'er the heavens the shadowy night + Her dim and shapeless form, +So human pleasures, frail and light, + Are lost in passion's storm. +So fades the sunshine of the breast, + So passion's dreamings fall, +So friendship's fervours sink to rest, + Oblivion shrouds them all. + + + + +TO EVA. + + +A beam upon the myrtle fell + From dewy evening's purest sky, +'Twas like the glance I love so well, + Dear Eva, from thy moonlight eye. + +I looked around the summer grove, + On every tree its lustre shone; +For all had felt that look of love + The silly myrtle deemed its own. + +Eva! behold thine image there, + As fair, as false thy glances fall; +But who the worthless smile would share + That sheds its light alike on all. + + + + +TO A LADY +WITH A WITHERED VIOLET. + + +Though fate upon this faded flower + His withering hand has laid, +Its odour'd breath defies his power, + Its sweets are undecayed. + +And thus, although thy warbled strains + No longer wildly thrill, +The memory of the song remains, + Its soul is with me still. + + + + +BRONX. + + +I sat me down upon a green bank-side, + Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river, +Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide, + Like parting friends who linger while they sever; +Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready, + Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy. + +Gray o'er my head the yellow-vested willow + Ruffled its hoary top in the fresh breezes, +Glancing in light, like spray on a green billow, + Or the fine frost-work which young winter freezes; +When first his power in infant pastime trying, +Congeals sad autumn's tears on the dead branches lying. + +From rocks around hung the loose ivy dangling, + And in the clefts sumach of liveliest green, +Bright ising-stars the little beach was spangling, + The gold-cup sorrel from his gauzy screen +Shone like a fairy crown, enchased and beaded, +Left on some morn, when light flashed in their eyes unheeded. + +The hum-bird shook his sun-touched wings around, + The bluefinch caroll'd in the still retreat; +The antic squirrel capered on the ground + Where lichens made a carpet for his feet: +Through the transparent waves, the ruddy minkle +Shot up in glimmering sparks his red fin's tiny twinkle. + +There were dark cedars with loose mossy tresses, + White powdered dog-trees, and stiff hollies flaunting +Gaudy as rustics in their May-day dresses, + Blue pelloret from purple leaves upslanting +A modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden +Shining beneath dropt lids the evening of her wedding. + +The breeze fresh springing from the lips of morn, + Kissing the leaves, and sighing so to lose 'em, +The winding of the merry locust's horn, + The glad spring gushing from the rock's bare bosom: +Sweet sights, sweet sounds, all sights, all sounds excelling, +Oh! 'twas a ravishing spot formed for a poet's dwelling. + +And did I leave thy loveliness, to stand + Again in the dull world of earthly blindness? +Pained with the pressure of unfriendly hands, + Sick of smooth looks, agued with icy kindness? +Left I for this thy shades, were none intrude, +To prison wandering thought and mar sweet solitude? + +Yet I will look upon thy face again, + My own romantic Bronx, and it will be +A face more pleasant than the face of men. + Thy waves are old companions, I shall see +A well-remembered form in each old tree, +And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy. + + + + +SONG. + + +'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye, +Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye, +Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair, +Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare. +Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream, +The changing hues of an April sky. +They fade like dew in the morning beam, +Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh. + +'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel, +'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel: +'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free, +And the bosom that heaves alone for me. +Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay +From youth's gay morning to age's night; +When beauty's rainbow tints decay, +Love's torch still burns with a holy light. + +Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade, +And love will droop in the cheerless shade, +Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy, +It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy. +But oh! the light of the constant soul +Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim; +Though wo may weep in life's mingled bowl, +Love still shall hover around its brim. + + + + +TO SARAH. + + +I. + +One happy year has fled, Sall, + Since you were all my own, +The leaves have felt the autumn blight, + The wintry storm has blown. +We heeded not the cold blast, + Nor the winter's icy air; +For we found our climate in the heart, + And it was summer there. + +II. + +The summer's sun is bright, Sall, + The skies are pure in hue; +But clouds will sometimes sadden them, + And dim their lovely blue; +And clouds may come to us, Sall, + But sure they will not stay; +For there's a spell in fond hearts + To chase their gloom away. + +III. + +In sickness and in sorrow + Thine eyes were on me still, +And there was comfort in each glance + To charm the sense of ill. +And were they absent now, Sall, + I'd seek my bed of pain, +And bless each pang that gave me back + Those looks of love again. + +IV. + +Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss, + When day's dull round is o'er, +And sweet the music of the step + That meets me at the door. +Though worldly cares may visit us, + I reck not when they fall, +While I have thy kind lips, my Sall, + To smile away them all. + + + + +THE AMERICAN FLAG. + + +I. + +When Freedom from her mountain height + Unfurled her standard to the air, +She tore the azure robe of night, + And set the stars of glory there. +She mingled with its gorgeous dyes +The milky baldric of the skies, +And striped its pure celestial white, +With streakings of the morning light; +Then from his mansion in the sun +She called her eagle bearer down, +And gave into his mighty hand, + The symbol of her chosen land. + +II. + +Majestic monarch of the cloud, + Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, +To hear the tempest trumpings loud + And see the lightning lances driven, +When strive the warriors of the storm, + And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, +Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given + To guard the banner of the free, +To hover in the sulphur smoke, +To ward away the battle stroke, +And bid its blendings shine afar, +Like rainbows on the cloud of war, + The harbingers of victory! + +III. + +Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, + The sign of hope and triumph high, +When speaks the signal trumpet tone, + And the long line comes gleaming on. +Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, + Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet, +Each soldier eye shall brightly turn + To where thy sky-born glories burn; +And as his springing steps advance, + Catch war and vengeance from the glance. +And when the cannon-mouthings loud + Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, +And gory sabres rise and fall +Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall; + Then shall thy meteor glances glow, +And cowering foes shall shrink beneath + Each gallant arm that strikes below +That lovely messenger of death. + +IV. + +Flag of the seas! on ocean wave + Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; +When death, careering on the gale, + Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, +And frighted waves rush wildly back + Before the broadside's reeling rack, +Each dying wanderer of the sea + Shall look at once to heaven and thee, +And smile to see thy splendours fly +In triumph o'er his closing eye. + +V. + +Flag of the free heart's hope and home! + By angel hands to valour given; +The stars have lit the welkin dome, + And all thy hues were born in heaven. +For ever float that standard sheet! + Where breathes the foe but falls before us, +With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, + And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CULPRIT FAY*** + + +******* This file should be named 317.txt or 317.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/1/317 + + + +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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