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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hours of childhood and other poems, by
+Anonymous
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Hours of childhood and other poems
+
+Author: Anonymous
+
+Release Date: January 28, 2021 [eBook #64408]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+             Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+             produced from images generously made available by The Internet
+             Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOURS OF CHILDHOOD AND OTHER
+POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+                            [Illustration:
+
+                                 Hours
+
+                                  OF
+
+                               Childhood
+
+                                  AND
+
+                              OTHER POEMS
+
+                               Montreal
+
+                        PUBLISHED BY A. BOWMAN
+
+                                AUGUST
+
+                                 1820.
+
+                           _A. Bourne, Lc._
+                                   ]
+
+
+
+
+                          HOURS OF CHILDHOOD,
+
+                                  AND
+
+                             OTHER POEMS.
+
+                                       For me the day
+             Hath duties which require the vigorous hand
+             Of stedfast application, but which leave
+             No deep improving trace upon the mind.
+             But be the day another’s;--let it pass!
+             The night’s my own!--
+                                    KIRKE WHITE.
+
+                               MONTREAL:
+                        PUBLISHED BY A. BOWMAN.
+
+                                 1820.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is a fact universally allowed, that few authors are so totally
+indifferent to the stamp which their writings may bear in the minds of
+the public, as to feel no anxiety concerning their success; and to
+contemplate with perfect composure, the prospect of a critical analysis
+of their productions, in which, each blemish is to be exposed to the
+most rigid censure.
+
+No writer is entirely exempt from this doubtful solicitude--even those
+who have raised themselves above the quibblings of fire-side
+commentators, and are only read to be admired, have their moments of
+fear;--the opinions of the public may change; critics may condemn, and
+their names may be tarnished by a failure.
+
+SINCE then, those who possess every classical requisite for poetical
+excellence; who are blessed with time, retirement, and an access to the
+writings of all nations, and ages; whose minds are cheered in their
+pursuits, by a solid hope of success, founded on the remembrance of
+former approbation, cannot altogether confide in their infallibility. It
+will not be doubted, that a youth, unlettered, and unlearned, who in his
+first essay has been debarred all those advantages which are considered
+almost indispensible in the pursuit of literary distinction--should
+appear before the public with the utmost diffidence; fearful that the
+pursuit which has given him employment in his midnight hours, and added
+a zest to his short period of leisure, should reflect discredit upon his
+authorship.
+
+THE writer of HOURS OF CHILDHOOD, far from enjoying “_Poetic leisure_,”
+has, from the age of thirteen, filled a situation which requires “the
+vigorous hand of stedfast application,” and, which has left little time
+for studious improvement: But his work is to appear on the same stage,
+with the productions of the man of science; and to be judged by the same
+tribunal.--These are not happy auspices--yet, he ventures to present
+this volume to the public, conscious of the many defects which may be
+discovered in it,--but hoping to reap instruction from its fate. Nor
+would he deprecate criticism; he wishes only that the sentence bestowed
+upon it, should, as far as justice will allow, consider the
+circumstances under which it appears. It has no patron; it goes forth
+into the world, unprotected, and alone--to stand or fall by its own
+merits--as a tender parent ushers into the world a beloved
+child;--sensible of his faults, he cherishes a hope, that it will judge
+of them with charity; nor crush, by a sentence too severe, the latent
+seeds of virtue which may spring up to maturity and perfection. The
+child has been his comfort, in many an hour of sorrow; and fancy, with
+healing influence, has drawn his growing virtues starting forth into
+fragrant blossom. For whatever national feeling is expressed in this
+work, an apology cannot be necessary to a reasonable person, of what
+country soever: The warm attachment of the author to his _Native Land_,
+is but the natural feeling of every honest heart,--in that land, the
+hours of infancy were whiled away under the influence of hope, and
+fancy; and the delights of that innocent period, are engraven on the
+tablets of memory, in the lovely hues of youthful imagination. Nor does
+this laudable partiality cast a reflection upon the same predilection in
+the natives of other countries; those who feel the true _amor patriæ_
+are charmed with the same sentiment in others of whatever nation.
+
+THE smaller pieces are the effusions of the moment written at different
+times, and are incapable of being altered from their original
+crudeness.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                                   _Page._
+
+Hours of Childhood,                                                    9
+
+A Mother’s Love,                                                      67
+
+Addressed to a Young Lady,                                            72
+
+Stanza’s,                                                             78
+
+“The Moon’s Pale Ray”,                                                80
+
+To a Friend,                                                          83
+
+The Alter’d Lay,                                                      86
+
+
+
+
+                                POEMS.
+
+
+
+
+        HOURS OF CHILDHOOD.
+
+
+      There is a solace to the aching breast,
+    Long worn by care, that sighs for tranquil rest;
+    Midst toils of day, in slumbers of the night,
+    Fond memory paints each infantine delight,
+    Each vanish’d joy that woke the bosom’s glow,
+    When all look’d gay as heaven’s aerial bow,
+    And youth, and health, and nature’s charms combin’d,
+    Shed calm contentment o’er the guileless mind.
+    The ceaseless waves of time, that swiftly roll
+    Man’s feeble bark to dark oblivion’s goal,
+    Sweep harmless o’er the mem’ry of those days,
+    When childhood tuned its unambitious lays,
+    And soft-eyed pleasure, in her gay attire,
+    Woke the wild numbers of the trembling lyre.
+
+
+        II
+
+      Bright were the scenes that fancy drew,
+      And blythe the hours that gaily flew,
+      In life’s gay morn, when all was new;
+      And softly, hope her radiance shed,
+      In happy childhood, round my head,
+    Deceitful smiled; that angel smile
+    Was wont my sorrows to beguile,
+    And every transient cloud of woe,
+    That dim’d the visions of my eye,
+    Fled, as the sun’s enliv’ning glow
+    Chas’d the light vapour from the sky:
+    And nature, in that halcyon hour,
+    Claim’d o’er my mind a magic power,
+    Ope’d to my eye her boundless store,
+    And bade her vast delights explore,
+    Her solemn contemplative glades,
+    Her grottoes cool, her sylvan shades,
+    Or where she wears no gentle smile,
+    But frowning wastes her form despoil;--
+    Midst gloomy haunts and forests drear,
+    Where silence tires the drowsy ear,
+    Or where, with stunning sound, the waves
+    Toss boisterous, when the tempest raves.
+
+
+        III
+
+      And fancy, oft, would guide my feet
+    To glooms, where sleepless spirits wander’d,
+      Or lonely vales, retirement sweet,
+    Where some lorn stream its course meander’d.
+    Oft, in some deep untrodden dell,
+    Where Eremite might build his cell,
+    Remote from all the ills that wait
+    The pompous equipage of state;
+    To human steps so much unknown,
+    Ev’n thought might find herself alone;
+    Nought on her silence to intrude,
+    Or break her much lov’d solitude.--
+    Imagination’s forceful power,
+    Would charm away the passing hour;
+    And fondly picture scenes of old,
+    By hoary matron’s legend told,
+    In number’s mystic, strange, and wild,
+    To soothe me, when a froward child;
+    Of ravening giant of the wold,
+    Of ladie fair, and gallant bold;
+    And grey hair’d minstrel, blythe and old;
+    Of martial lists, of daring deeds,
+    Of nodding plumes, and prancing steeds;
+    Of knight caparison’d in arms,
+    To combat for a damsel’s charms:
+    Or still, the more replete with fear,
+    The story whisper’d in the ear,
+    Lest angry fiend, perchance, might hear,
+    Of wither’d hag, or wandring sprite,
+    Who roam the unhallow’d hour of night,
+    Or form more gay, of Fairy light,
+    Who, when the moon’s soft ray is glancing
+    On the flowery green, is dancing
+      In many an airy roundelay;--
+      Vanishing ere dawn of day.
+
+
+        IV
+
+        Ah! in life’s morn, the trusting soul
+      Is calm;--the hours unheeded roll;
+    No passions urge their fierce controul.
+    Then, not a wish was unsupplied,
+      For scarce a boon had I to crave,
+    Save those, which in the heart abide,
+      And those indulgent nature gave.
+    Upon the blossom of my cheek,
+    The rose bud’s hue was wont to speak
+    The calmest sunshine of the heart,
+    That health and happiness impart:
+    Free, as the mountain breeze, was I!
+    That sweeps the light cloud o’er the sky;
+    Unknown a foretaste of the woes,--
+    Companions of man’s ripening years,--
+    That bar the eyelids from repose,
+    And wash them with untimely tears.
+    I knew not, then, the brow o’ercast
+    By gloomy thought, or sullen care,
+    I brooded o’er no pleasures past;
+    The future, all look’d bright and fair:
+    An undefined, elysian dream,
+    Illum’d by hope’s deceitful beam.
+    That hope has past!--its early ray
+    No more irradiates my way.--
+
+
+        V
+
+      How wildly swells the craggy height!
+    Whence the rough torrent, rushing bright,
+    In morning’s gay reflected beams,
+    A sheet of burnished silver seems;
+    With bickering wave, and foaming spray
+    In columns rising to the day;
+    While, midst the far resounding roar
+    The dark plumed eagles proudly soar;
+    Commingling, with the discord rude
+    That wakes the mountain solitude,
+    Their rustling pinion’s heavy sound;
+    Their bodeing, and terrific scream;--
+    Re-echoing o’er the cliff profound;
+    Startling the owlet from his dream,
+    Where, in the darkest wood, supreme
+    In sullen loneliness, he sits,
+    Mutt’ring his moody tones by fits;
+    Till evening spreads her shadow dun,
+    And, ’neath the western hill, the sun
+    Has sunk, his daily circle run.
+    Then, to some distant turret’s height,
+    He speeds his melancholy flight,
+    To mope, unseen, the livelong night.
+
+
+        VI
+
+    Where every sense, in tumult drown’d,
+    Yields to the mighty torrent’s sound,
+    I loved in thoughtfulness to roam;--
+    Where the swift cataract, white with foam,
+    Rush’d down the steep, in tumult rude,
+    To muse in contemplative mood;
+    To dwell, upon the mountain’s brow,
+    O’er the soft scenes that spread below.
+    Ah! there are those, who senseless, scorn
+    Each joy of lovely nature born!
+    Nor listen to her angel voice.
+    Too sadly erring in their choice,
+    They fly the unfrequented shade,
+    The bower, for contemplation made;
+    And seek in concourse, noise, and strife,
+    Those calmer joys of human life
+    Which only in retirement dwell,
+    Remote from folly’s wild’ring spell.
+    There is a music in the sound,
+    That swells the eddying stream around;
+    A boldness in the torrent’s flood;
+    A calmness in the waving wood;
+    A softness in the verdant vale
+    Where fragrant flowers their balm exhale;
+    That fills the bosom with delight,
+    And charms the child of nature’s sight.
+
+
+        VII
+
+      I loved to stand upon the rock,
+    Sear’d many an age by thunder’s shock,
+    And mark the boiling flood beneath
+    Toss its wild foam, in many a wreath;
+    And count each bubble, as it rose,
+    Like joy’s bright gem, midst seas of woes;
+    Whelm’d, instant, in the rushing tide;--
+    Too vain and empty to abide.
+    So rise, upon life’s flowing stream,
+    The gay, who shine in folly’s beam:--
+    They glitter bright their little hour,
+    The shallow tools of transient power.
+    Then, like the bubble on the wave,
+    They sink beneath the pow’r that gave
+    Their fleeting splendour; by the frown
+    Of tyrants hurl’d from grandeur down.
+
+
+        VIII
+
+      Oft, on the mountain’s highest peak,
+    Round which rude peals of thunder break,--
+    When tempests from on high are hurl’d,--
+    I’ve stood, and mark’d, beneath unfurl’d,
+    The varied charms of nature’s face;
+    Where, undisturb’d, my eye could trace
+    Each winding brook, each rushing stream,
+    Each charm that wakes in fancy’s dream;
+    The ocean’s measureless expanse,
+    On whose calm breast bright shadows glance;
+      Unruffled, pure, and peaceful, save
+      Where zephyrs fan its sleeping wave.
+    There, breaking thro’ its endless blue,
+    Soft rise the isles of verdant hue,
+    Where heavenly habitants might rest,
+    And sanctify earth’s lovely breast.
+    And fancy oft would paint, (among
+    Their verdant bowers, where wild bird’s song
+    Enliven’d, with its melody,
+    The tranquil scene; which well might vie
+    With nature’s fairest, loveliest spot,)
+    The blest, and undisturbed lot,
+    With some congenial, tender breast,
+    To seek retirement, peace, and rest,
+    And bid to folly’s train adieu,
+    For verdant isle, in ocean blue.
+
+
+        IX
+
+      Or stretched, in undulating maze,
+    To tire with charms the wandering gaze,
+    The landscape bright before me lays:--
+    The valley, hill abrupt, and steep,
+    Sequester’d dell, remote and deep;
+    The rustling fields of golden corn,
+    Emblazon’d by the beams of morn;
+    The hamlet’s cluster’d form, where rest,
+    With health, and peace, the simply blest;
+    Where reigns, (by heaven auspicious lent,)
+    Joy’s purest spirit, calm content;
+    Enlivening every rustic eye,
+    That beams with self-taught sympathy.
+    Blest with each joy these scenes impart,
+    Which soothe, yet not corrupt the heart;
+    Unversed in manners of the crowd,
+    The falsly gay, the meanly proud,
+    Who scoff at peasant joys aloud;
+    Unversed in fashion’s mystic lore;
+    Untaught to crave another’s store;
+    They peaceful live, and calmly die,
+    Embosom’d in tranquillity.
+
+
+        X
+
+      The waving forest’s wide domain,
+    Beyond the lawn, my vision greets.
+    There, every verdure softly meets;--
+    The towering pine’s deep em’rald stain;
+    The willow’s light and cheerful green;
+    The beach, in yellow foilage drest;
+    The poplar’s dark and shining vest,
+    Its leaves, in every breath that quiver,
+    And in the cool air seem to shiver;
+    Each bright variety of hue
+    There strikes upon th’ admiring view.
+    Through its dark groves’ refreshing shade,
+    The wild breeze hollow murmurs made;
+    Its bosom heav’d with gentle motion,
+    Like the softly troubled ocean;
+    Beneath that forest’s sombre shade,
+    Oft have my vagrant footsteps stray’d,
+    Oft have I paus’d, its depths among,
+    To breathe a light and artless song;
+    Oft paus’d amidst its gloomy haunts,
+    Where nature’s wildest livery flaunts,
+    To heave the sigh that childhood grants,
+    When crowds of wishes, undefined,
+    Steal on the uninstructed mind.--
+
+
+        XI
+
+      Why did I sigh? I knew not, yet,
+    A semblance even of regret;
+    Why did I sigh? was it, because
+    Nature’s fair bloom would soon decay?
+    The fountain’s stream would know a pause,
+    The forest’s foilage fade away,
+    Each fairy vale, each verdant meadow,
+    Would pass, like morning’s fleeting shadow?
+    Ah no! that gloomy hour was fraught
+    With all the luxury of thought;--
+    A willing gloom, a painful pleasure,
+    Play’d o’er my heart in rapt’rous measure;
+    ’Twas poesy’s spirit swell’d my soul,
+    And bade, on fancy’s golden pinions,
+    Airy thoughts, extatic, roll
+    O’er the mind’s unchain’d dominions.
+
+
+        XII
+
+      ’Twas meditation’s hallowed ground!
+    And soft she shed her influence round:
+    O’er many a forest flower I stray’d,
+    That bloom’d beneath the dark oak’s shade,
+    And yielded sweet its wild perfume,
+    Shrouded in uncongenial gloom,--
+    And birds, from soft melodious throats,
+    To gentle echo sung their notes.
+
+
+        XIII
+
+      Upon the wild stream’s shadowy brink,
+    ’Tis sweet, alone to stand, and think;--
+    In riper years it claims a sigh,
+    A sigh, the bosom cannot stifle,
+    That as the current rushes by,
+    Rending each flower that blossoms nigh,
+    So time our early joys will rifle.
+    Delights, that gild our dawn of day,
+    Like the swift stream, will pass away;
+    Each image, in life’s early dream,
+    Dissolves, ere manhood’s stronger beam
+    Lights the true pathway of our fate,
+    Or shows how vain, (but ah too late!)
+    Was the fair future fancy gave;
+    Vain as the streamlet’s gliding wave,
+    That sparkles but a moment’s space,
+    Then fades, nor leaves one single trace
+    Of where, or what it was before,--
+    Lost in the billow’s ceaseless roar!
+    We gaze, and as the river flows,
+    Life’s varying course its passage shows;
+    Now, swell’d by headlong mountain streams;
+      “Now, softly murmuring calm and slow,
+    Far off its waveless mirror gleams,
+      “(And heaven’s own shadow spreads below)
+    Amid the ever blooming grove,
+      “Like future joy thro’ hope’s false beams:
+    They fickle, frail, and worthless prove!
+    Each hour that owns bright pleasure’s sway;
+    The fire of genius; fancy’s ray;
+    Love’s cheating power, and ardent flame,
+    All! all! save friendship’s sacred name,
+    Upon the torrent wave of time,
+    Flee, with our manhood’s fleeting prime;
+    And leave, alone, the sullen gloom
+    Of spirits, journeying to the tomb;
+    Save, that, tho’ faint her light is beaming,
+    HOPE still upon the soul is gleaming!
+    Points, thro’ misfortune’s darkest shade,
+    To brighter joys, that never fade;--
+    Not vivid, as in life’s gay morning
+      “She danc’d in nature’s lovely bowers;
+    Not falsely, as in youth adorning
+      With promis’d ecstacy the hours!
+    But calm, unclouded, firm, and pure;
+    Tho’ dim her beams, their guidance sure.--
+    So on the last resounding wave,
+    That speeds to an unfathom’d grave,
+    The sunbeam sheds its brilliant ray;
+    On each bright drop its glimm’rings play;
+    It fades in radiant beams of day:
+    Whelm’d in the ocean’s bosom deep,
+    The silent waves unconscious sleep;--
+    Unconscious, that they once had swept
+    Along the soil, where genius slept;
+    Or bounded o’er the rocky height,
+    Swell’d into rage by tempest’s might;
+    Or, that their waters once had laved
+    A land that ne’er might be enslaved;
+    By patriot arm in peril sav’d,
+    Ev’n as unconscious as the clay,
+    That wraps our remnants of decay,
+    When to the joyless sea of age
+    Recedes the stream of youthful rage.--
+
+
+        XIV
+
+      Hark! from the village, distant far
+    Re-echoed, varied discords jar;
+    The busy hum, the social din,
+    That welcome gentle twilight in,
+    Come swelling, from the vale below,
+    Up the lone mountain’s craggy side;
+    Sweeping “in solemn tones and slow,”
+    Round the broad summit’s crested pride:
+      Gently o’er the water dashing,
+      Where the silver waves are flashing
+    Beneath the rays of yellow light,
+    That mark the near approach of night.
+    How lovely is the placid hour!
+    How soft and tranquil is its power,
+    Ere the sun’s last faint tints have faded,
+    While yet the tender radiance lingers,
+    In heaven’s softest colours shaded,
+    By gentle twilight’s fairy fingers.--
+    The swain from healthful labour turns
+    His lingering steps, as, dimly burns,
+    Upon yon western summit’s height,
+    Sol’s latest beams of golden light,
+    To the dear cot where labors cease,
+    And kind endearments whisper peace.
+    Around their smiling father’s knee,
+    In unassum’d and heartfelt glee,
+    The troop of little urchins press,
+    And clamour for his fond caress.
+    Nor slighted is the dame’s embrace,
+    Proud of her simple, virtuous race.--
+
+
+        XV
+
+      Soft smiling, in the burnish’d west,
+    Where Phoebus’ orb has sunk to rest,
+    Shines heavenly Venus’s goddess light,
+    (Propitious beam to lovers sight:)
+    Thick starry throngs pervade the skies,
+    And, on the gentle water lies
+    The semblance of the lovely heaven,
+    Drest in the hues of comeing even’;
+    And, as the Zephyr stirs the breast
+    On which the starry myriads rest,
+    The mighty band, in tumult tost,
+    Now glimmer, now they fade away;
+    In seeming, wild confusion lost,
+    Like glitt’ring spears in mortal fray.
+    Then, as the semblance struck my eye.
+    Came the long tale across my mind,
+    Of conq’ring hosts, and victory,
+    That proud ambition’s votries blind
+    To evils reason can descry.
+
+
+        XVI
+
+      Or upland, from the ocean’s surge,
+    I turn’d my eye, the landscape’s verge
+    (As twilight’s lovely hour come on,
+    And faint along the horizon,
+    Bland nature’s soft, and tender dye,
+    Seemed mingling with the hues of sky,)
+    “Was drest in softest livery.
+    When all around was sweet and still,
+    Its distant note the Whip-poor-will
+    Sigh’d on the zephyr’s airy sail,
+    That softly swept along the vale,
+    And o’er the stream, in magic swell,
+    The echo fondly loved to dwell;
+    As if, beneath its chrystal wave,
+    It sought a calm and tranquil grave;
+    ’Till wak’d, the softly solemn strain
+    Renew’d its music wild again,
+    And echo, still, the note repeated,
+    And vale, and hill, its numbers greeted.
+
+
+        XVII
+
+      Far off, upon the village green,
+    The children at their sports are seen;
+    Beneath fair Cynthia’s argent ray,
+    In mazy squadrons mix’d, they play.
+    Now, to the ranks of mimic war
+    They rush, beneath the martial star,
+    Its red rays beaming from afar;
+    And brandish high the edgeless brand,
+    And poise the musket at command,
+    While every bosom, frought with ire,
+    Feels all a hero’s glowing fire:--
+    Or o’er the plain, in panting chace,
+    The football-sports provoke the race;
+    And hark! the wild and clam’rous shout,
+    That hails the victors of the rout,
+    The boyish note, of rapt’rous glee,
+    The joy of bloodless victory.--
+
+
+        XVIII
+
+      How happy! but they all must know
+    The poignant sting of human woe.
+    Short is the morning of delight,
+    And all its tints are sweetly bright;
+    No cloud tempestuous mars its peace,
+    Till sad conviction bids it cease,
+    And reason’s voice, in thund’ring sound,
+    Bids view each real object round;
+    The sorrows all are doom’d to brave--
+    Save those, who, where the cypress wave,
+    Have hap’ly found an early grave;
+      Oh, they in sweet unconsciousness,
+    Nought know of sorrow, woe, or care!
+      The sod, in infant thoughtlessness,
+    Cradles their forms in silence there;
+      And, in the fitful gusts of air,
+          The drooping willow,
+    Their turf with bending foilage sweeps;
+    Each branch, in dewy fragrance, weeps
+    O’er the cold grave, where childhood sleeps
+          On balmy pillow.
+    Blest lot, to reach the happy goal
+    When unpolluted was the soul;
+    Ere vice had dim’d the heavenly ray,
+    Or mix’d that spark with baser clay:
+    The goal of our short human course
+    No skill can pass; no giant force
+    Can change its being or its date;
+    All tread the downward path of fate!
+    O who would o’er their cold graves sigh!
+    Or shed one parting tear of sorrow,
+    They died in happy infancy,
+    They live in day that knows no morrow.
+
+
+        XIX
+
+      Mark! the bright moon, thro’ azure sky,
+    Sails slow, in conscious majesty!
+    No cloud o’er all the heav’n is seen,
+    But, like the spirit of a dream,
+    When nought of earth dare intervene,
+    She darts around her softest beam!
+    It glitters on the rippling stream;
+    It dwells along the hillock’s side;
+    It sleeps upon the ocean’s tide;
+    It sparkles o’er the forest wide;
+    And every shrub, and every flower,
+    Owns its soft sway, and magic power:
+    The dew drops, on the velvet green,
+    Glitter beneath the radiance sheen;
+    Around, in wild profusion spread,
+    The violet droops its modest head,
+    The daisy rears its pensile stem,
+    Dressing the turf with many a gem;
+    A chequer’d carpet, spangled meet
+    For sprightly dance of fairy feet.
+    Titania, as in ancient days
+    She liv’d in Shakespeare’s magic lays,--
+    Might o’er the turf unearthly glance,
+    And lead the circles of the dance;
+    With Oberon in concert move,
+    The peerless Queen of airy love.
+
+
+        XX
+
+      Upon the rude rock’s barren height
+    Shoots the pale ray of lunar light;
+    And, streaming round its gloomy base,
+    Bright beams the murky darkness chase.--
+    There, the intentive eye may trace
+    The sparkling granite’s shining grain;
+    The dusky flint’s conspicuous vein;
+    And many a fragment, rudely rent
+    When thunder shook the firmament.
+    Let the proud sons of wealth and power
+    In riot spend the midnight hour;
+    In wine dissolve their cares away,
+    And fain be vicious, to be gay.
+    Let wealth unfold her glittering store,
+    An hour of peace, I value more
+    Than mines of India’s golden ore;--
+    Let all her pleasures sense display,
+    That hour more rapture yields than they.
+    In such an hour, the soul is free
+    From shackles of mortality;
+    In such an hour, in scenes like this,
+    Reflection opes her store of bliss,
+    And fancy’s bright, unclouded trance
+    Bids, before the enraptured eyes,
+    Light unearthly spirits dance,
+    And many a fabled form arise
+    In recording memory’s glance.
+
+
+        XXI
+
+      O’er all the landscape’s varied scene
+    My footsteps wander’d; up the green;
+    Thro’ tangled forest spreading wide;
+    Along the mountain’s echoing side;
+    Through vales where streams pellucid glide;
+    O’er lawns the forest groves between,
+    Whence, dim, the mountain’s head is seen,
+    Embosom’d in a misty veil,
+    In giant strength it views the dale;
+    O’er the soft landscape’s tranquil form
+    Frowns, midst the terrors of the storm,
+    Scorns the low beauties of the vale,
+    And bares its forehead to the gale.
+      Such he, whose high, ambitious mind
+      Sighs for an empire unconfined;
+    The path of blood, and danger braves,
+    To tyrannise a land of slaves;
+    Who stems, with iron nerve, the tide,
+    To raise his empire’s tow’ring pride;
+    Who scorns the humble vale of peace,
+    Retirement, and domestic ease;
+    No joy within his bosom glows,
+    To virtue cold as Alpine snows;
+    No blessing falls upon his head,
+    For him no fervant prayer is said;
+    Unknown to him the soul serene,
+    The smiling eye, the cheerful mein;
+    Peace flies his bosom, fell despair
+    Fixes her fiend-like impress there;--
+    None weep his fall, none dress his bier,
+    Or heave for him one sigh sincere;
+    Nor love, nor friendship’s soothing power
+    Attend his dissolution’s hour.
+
+
+        XXIII
+
+      The Macedonian’s restless mood
+    Deluged the world in kindred blood.
+    Not half the globe in fetters chain’d,
+    Could sate him, while the rest remain’d.
+    Unmeasured, as earth’s farthest bound,
+    Ambition, still new conquest found;
+    But still, though lord of every soil,
+    Enrich’d by every kingdom’s spoil,
+    Unknown to him the pure delight,
+    Of deeds approved in virtue’s sight;
+    Blood mark’d the progress of his fame,
+    And terror waits upon his name.
+
+
+        XXIV
+
+      The Roman, whose resistless hand
+    Spread war to Britain’s distant land;
+    Bade Rome’s brave eagles, proudly sweep
+    O’er every strand, o’er every deep,
+    And after thousand perils brav’d,
+    His country’s liberties enslaved:--
+    Count not the nations he subdued;
+    Count not the toils his strength withstood;
+    Count not his honest martial fame,
+    To fix a stamp to Cæsar’s name!
+    Mark but the moral of his end,
+    Beneath the poinard of his friend.
+
+
+        XXV
+
+      But tranquil scenes, from vice apart,
+    Infuse their influence in the heart;
+    Instruct the mind, delight the eye,
+    And soften disappointment’s sigh;
+    Well did I know, no future bliss,
+    Midst busy crouds, could equal this,
+    Well did my bosom’s rapture tell
+    No future hours would please so well;
+    Yet oft, a vagrant wish would rise,
+    To breath the air of foreign skies;
+    Still would I heave a half formed sigh,
+    On other scenes to feast my eye,
+    Extend o’er earth my raptured view,
+    And search creation’s beauties through;
+    Oh had that wish but been suppress’d!
+    That sigh ne’er heav’d my infant breast,
+    Still had I in retirement dwelt,
+    And quiet’s tranquil influence felt.
+
+
+        XXVI
+
+      I gaz’d upon the pale moon’s face;
+    I sought the meteor’s path to trace;
+    I counted every orb of light,
+    That gem’d the azure vault of night;
+    I gaz’d o’er all the starry train
+    ’Till softly, sleep came o’er my brain.
+    My senses sunk in soft repose,
+    Bright visions to my sight arose.
+
+
+        XXVII
+
+      The moon has fled upon the hill,
+    No more it gilds the murm’ring rill;
+    The stars are faint, and dimly seen,
+    Unlighted by their lovely queen;
+    The magic of the night is past,
+    And morning’s rays are coming fast;
+    In the grey skirtings of the east,
+    Across the ocean’s waveless breast,
+    Faint streaks of doubtful light appear,
+    Betok’ning Phœbus’s chariot near,
+    The mountains in the spreading light,
+    Gleam from their dark and cloudy height;
+    Stretch shadowy, o’er the landscape wide,
+    And tremble on the ebbing tide.
+    From the low dewy vale’s retreat,
+    Light clouds of mist the morning greet;
+    Now, stronger from the orient streaming,
+    O’er nature’s breast the sun is beaming;
+    The glittering woods enliven’d smile,
+    The fields resound the voice of toil,
+    Light songsters flutter in the groves,
+    And pleasure o’er the woodland roves:
+    Hark! o’er the valley, soft and clear
+    The rustic song swells on the ear;
+    The song by health and joy inspired,
+    In hearts with nature’s beauties fired.
+
+
+        XXVIII
+
+    Is there, among the giddy throng
+    Who heedless sweep time’s course along,--
+    One, who such scenes unmoved has view’d,
+    Nor felt his childhood’s joys renew’d,
+    Whose eye has on such beauties dwelt,
+    And his cold bosom never felt
+    Its thoughts with solemn power refined,
+    And rapture steal upon his mind?
+    No pure emotions fill his soul;
+    No bright reflections o’er it roll;
+    ’Tis form’d in dark, and savage mould,
+    No genial virtues there unfold.
+    But sombre, as the glooms of night,
+    The forms that please its callous sight;
+    Cold to each virtue’s hallowed feeling,
+      The heart that nature cannot warm,
+    That owns not, round each fibre stealing,
+      In lonely wilds, her secret charm,
+    Chaseing every cloud of sadness!
+    Yielding calm and placid gladness.
+    ’Tis nature prompts each noble aim,
+    Each softer grace is nature’s claim,
+    Each trait, from varied nature caught,
+    Fix’d in the mind, with her is fraught:
+    The hardy Swiss, from mountain rock,
+    As hardy stems the battle shock;
+    Italia’s soft and verdant plains
+    Repeat the lute’s melodious strains;
+    Each nation, wheresoe’er you range,
+    Change as the scenes of nature change.
+
+
+        XXIX
+
+      And thou, my country, lov’d so dear,
+    Land of free hearts, and faith sincere,
+    Fair freedom’s blest, congenial home,
+    Thou landmark in an age of gloom;
+    Claim’st, from the gales that round thee sweep,
+      Thy forests wild, thy summits steep,
+      Thy rushing torents rudely swelling,
+      The rocks, thy mighty eagle’s dwelling;--
+      A hardy, independant band,
+      The bulwark of thy favor’d land.
+
+
+        XXX
+
+      When the bright arms of Albion bore
+    Rude war, to thy affrighted shore;
+    When Britain’s cross, in warlike form,
+    Lower’d oe’r thee like a thunder storm;
+      Then, from their wild, uncouth domain
+    The hardy patriots sallied forth,
+      Display’d, on bloody battle plain,
+    Their generous ardor, loyal worth;
+    There nature in her bosom wild,
+    Had nurs’d her patriotic child,
+    Who gave my native soil a name,
+    Undying as creations frame.
+    His was the valor that imparts
+    Its influence to his followers’ hearts;
+    His was the skill his foes to foil
+    In every art, escape each toil,
+    Insure success by wise delay,
+    Or sudden snatch the prize away.
+
+
+        XXXI
+
+      In childhood, to my listening ear,
+    O! WASHINGTON! thy name was dear;
+    Embalm’d in every freeman’s breast,
+    The memory of thy deeds shall rest;
+    The first on glory’s radiant line,
+    In after days, thy name shall shine,
+    The freeman’s beacon blaze of war,
+    Columbia’s proudly beaming star.
+    First in the senate’s grave debate;
+    First at the troubled helm of state;
+    Thy name shall fill the future page,
+    The greatest of the present age.
+
+
+        XXXII
+
+      Such were the charms that pleas’d my eye,
+    When infant years flew swiftly by.
+    Past are those scenes, those days are fled,
+    Those joys are sleeping with the dead;
+    The world has oped her gaudy store
+    Of pleasures, unconceived before;
+    Far from my childhood’s happy home,
+    My wand’ring footsteps widely roam.
+    Ah; to whatever clime I stray,
+    Fond memory still shall point the way,
+    To the lone, undisturb’d retreat,
+    Where sped life’s morning, bright and fleet,--
+    Where childhood’s hours were gaily spent
+    With virtue, peace, and sweet content.
+    The beauties of a lovelier sky
+    Speak less of heaven to my eye,
+    The verdure of a distant plain,
+    The billows of a foreign main,
+    Raise not the rapture of delight,
+    Like scenes that charm our infant sight.
+
+
+        XXXIII
+
+      Oh home! thou dearest, loveliest spot,
+    However bleak, however wild!--
+    Thy mem’ry time can never blot,
+    Whate’er thro’ life may be my lot.
+    Still, thou shalt charm thy wand’ring child;
+    Tho’ many a ling’ring year has past,
+    Since thy fond circle shed the tear,
+    (To one bright eye it was the last)
+    And many heav’d a sigh sincere,
+    That sorrow, genuine sorrow started,
+    When from thy blest retreats I parted;--
+    Still, tho’ the wreaths that fancy braided
+    In thy lov’d bosom, long have faded,
+    Those friends who lov’d my infancy,
+    Claim still my bosom’s warmest sigh,
+    They love me still, no fate can sever
+    That faithful bond that bides for ever;
+    A mother’s fond unfeigning love,
+    Fails only, with the throb of life,
+    It cannot false, or faithless prove,
+    By wo unmov’d, unaw’d by strife.
+    Oh dearer far than wealth, or fame,
+    Is a lov’d mother’s honor’d name,--
+    It leads us in our early way,
+    Ere reason lends its guardian ray;
+    It points to virtue’s bright reward,
+    It bids us shun deceitful vice,
+    Persuasion drops from every word,
+    And love attunes that heavenly voice.
+
+
+        XXXIV
+
+      But he, whose pure affection blest
+    With friendship’s flame my days of rest,
+    My brother--generous, brave, and gay,[A]
+    Where sleep his limbs in dull decay?
+    Enshrin’d not were his relics cold,
+    O’er his deep grave no prayer was told;
+    No sigh breath’d softly o’er his bier,
+    And none, save strangers, shed a tear;
+    A last sad tear, at life’s dark close,
+    The end of all our joys and woes.
+    There famine’s meagre power was nigh,
+    Sunk was the cheek, the hollow eye,
+    Rob’d of its lustre, dimly view’d
+    One mighty sweep of billows rude;
+    No happy isle strikes on its fading beam,
+    Faintly its orb emits a dying gleam;
+    He turns, instinctive, his receding sight,
+    Towards that dear land where first he saw the light.
+    Then did remembrance, to his anguish’d heart,
+    Each youthful scene, with all its joys impart;
+    Barb’d every pang that rent his laboring breast,
+    And death’s pale form in tenfold horrors drest:
+    Then, came that tender, momentary thought,
+    With wildest, deepest, mortal anguish fraught,
+    It dwelt on those, who, in the morn of life
+    Had blest his boyhood, free from noise and strife:
+    Then, as his last, his lonely prayers arise,
+    On the wild blast, he struggles, gasps, and dies!--
+    Midst coral caves, in ocean’s bosom deep,
+    Brother belov’d! O tranquil be thy sleep!
+    Round the gay clusters of the green Ladrones,
+    The sea-gale sighs, the rushing billow moans,
+    There murm’rings soft, shall lull thy form to rest;
+    Thy soul shall dwell in regions of the blest.
+
+[A] One of the company of the ship Resource, lost in the China seas,
+        Nov. 20th, 1818.
+
+
+        XXXV
+
+      How oft, did hope thy blest return pourtray,
+    And bid me dwell upon that joyous day,
+    When once again, from every danger free,
+    Thy bounding vessel from the stormy sea,
+    Should to my arms, thy much lov’d form restore,
+    To taste each blessing of thy native shore;
+    To charm thy bosom after years of pain,
+    And ceaseless labor for unstable gain;
+    Oft, in fond fancy, would I seem to hear
+    Thy tale of sorrow murm’ring in my ear;
+    How the wild tempest toss’d thy ship on high,
+    And fate seem’d brooding in the whirlwind’s sigh;
+    How swift she flew before the lightning breeze,
+    And swept resistless o’er the foaming seas;
+    Or where in polar region’s wintry reign,
+    Where endless frost o’er nature binds its chain,
+    The stiffen’d canvass whistled in the blast,
+    And the vex’d cordage lash’d the lonely mast;
+    How in the fairest, most enchanting scenes,
+    Where blooming China spreads her living greens,
+    Her citron forests, and her Orange bowers,
+    Her vines of plenty, rich in fruit, and flowers;
+    Still, still, thy home was dearest, loveliest still,
+    And fond remembrance oft thy eyes would fill:
+    But fled the hope; no more thy comely form,
+    With rapt’rous gladness, shall my bosom warm;
+    Never, again, shall I those features trace,
+    That join’d to harmonize thy manly face;--
+    Entomb’d, unhonor’d, tho’ thy bones may lie,
+    Thy fate shall claim the deeply-breathing sigh;
+    Far distant, sunk in ocean’s caverns drear,
+    For thee, snail stream the sympathizing tear.
+
+
+        XXXVI
+
+      O virtue! ever be my guide,
+    Whatever storms my life betide!
+    May I, where’er my wand’rings lead,
+    Still scorn dishonor’s thriftless deed,
+    Still glory in a spotless name,
+    My wishes few, my passions tame;
+    Still, may my native country be
+    Dearer than foreign climes, to me:
+    Still, may the mem’ry of my sires
+    My bosom fill with patriot fires;
+    Awake Columbia’s spirit there,
+    And prompt, her weal, and wo to share;
+    O who! that bears a human heart,
+    Would basely shun an active part,
+    In day of danger, and of dread,
+    When foes their native soil invade,
+    Would mark their country drench’d in blood,
+    Nor pant to join the sanguine flood.
+    To die, or conquer in her cause,
+    And win fair virtue’s warm applause;
+    To plant, upon the tott’ring breach,
+    Her eagle banner stain’d with gore;
+    To pour the life-stream on the beach,
+    Ere foot of foeman touch’d the shore,
+    Where freedom dwells forevermore.
+
+
+        XXXVII
+
+      So will her sons, supremely brave,
+    Rejoice in vict’ry or the grave;
+    Howe’er around the world they rove,
+    Still, they their native soil will love;
+    The spark, from thee, great WASHINGTON!
+    First breath’d, shall warm each patriot son,
+    Raise in their breasts the lasting fire,
+    That ev’n in death, shall ne’er expire;
+    But, from their cold remains arise,
+    The flame of future victories.
+
+
+        XXXVIII
+
+      The lay that memory, lenient goddess, lent,
+    Is ended, and my form, that fondly bent
+    O’er the wild tones that swell my untaught lyre,
+    Has ceased, extinct the momentary fire;
+    Mute is the voice, that erewhile tuned the lays,
+    That sung, dear distant home, thy honest praise.
+    Oh when again, shall I thy scenes review,
+    And each fond tie of tenderness renew;
+    Roam once again, along thy lovely stream;
+    Court, on thy hills, the moon’s first glitt’ring beam;
+    Dwell on the beauties of thy landscape wide;
+    And hear the torrent, on thy mountain side:
+    Tired of the busy, of the bustling scene,
+    My wishes dwell along thy circled green;
+    Bound o’er the intervening vast of space,
+    And all the beauties of thy landscape trace;--
+    Tho far removed, my native grove, from thee,
+    My faithful heart midst thy wild scenes will be,
+    When fancy lends her wings of loveliest hue,
+    And past delights come rushing to the view;--
+    Mark the sequester’d beauties of thy vales,
+    And breathe again thy healthful mountain gales;
+    Remembrance, sweetly, every charm shall bring,
+    That woke delight, in youth’s gay radiant spring;
+    The dearest blessing of my life shall be,
+    The lasting mem’ry, and the love of thee.
+
+
+
+
+        A MOTHER’S LOVE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+        I
+
+    There is a feeling, warm and true
+      As that of seraphims above,
+    It sheds its balm like Hermon’s dew;
+      It is a tender mother’s love.
+
+
+        II
+
+    Bright is the pure incipient flame,
+      That warms the breast of ardent youth,
+    And dear the passion nought can tame,
+      Inspired by beauty, virtue, truth.
+
+
+        III
+
+    Sweet is the sound of friendship’s voice,
+      That bids each pulse to rapture move;
+    That bids each barren scene rejoice,
+      But sweeter far a mother’s love.
+
+
+        IV
+
+    Fond is the feeling, that inspires
+      With filial love, the tender child,
+    With gratitude his bosom fires
+      To her, who on his boyhood smil’d.
+
+
+        V
+
+    But placid, pure, and undefiled;
+      (By nature is the fabric wove)
+    By nature giv’n the savage wild,
+      Or christian; is a mother’s love.
+
+
+        VI
+
+    Mark! where of rosy health bereft,
+      Emaciate, wan, and deadly pale,
+    (The blood its dying cheek has left,)
+      The infant lifts its feeble wail.
+
+
+        VII
+
+    And see! the mother by its side,
+      Sunk in dejected, tearless woe,
+    As thro’ its veins, the ebbing tide,
+      She views decline, with gradual flow.
+
+
+        VIII
+
+    No sorrowing accent strikes the ear,
+      To tell the workings of her grief;
+    No sob is heard, no falling tear
+      Her burning anguish yield relief.
+
+
+        IX
+
+    ’Tis silent, as the breathless air,
+      In midnight’s deepest, darkest shade;
+    The hopeless shadow of despair,
+      That asks not consolation’s aid.
+
+
+        X
+
+    The infant dies!--remember’d still,
+      More precious to the soul it seems,
+    For glowing mem’ry paints at will
+      A thousand charms in fancy’s dreams.
+
+
+        XI
+
+    That form, thro’ many a lapse of years,
+      Comes on imagination’s wing,
+    And oft, its mother’s soul it chears,
+      And seems an angel’s smile to bring.
+
+
+        XII
+
+    See yonder mother! on her breast
+      In innocence her infant lays,
+    In smiles that mark the soul at rest;
+      How on his sleep she loves to gaze;
+
+
+        XIII
+
+    Her soul is in her placid eye,
+      And rapture lights its beaming glance;
+    How softly heaves her bosom’s sigh,
+      In pure affection’s loveliest trance.
+
+
+        XIV
+
+    That glance, the rapture of the mind,
+      Those sighs, her tranquil breast that move,
+    Are pledges dear, that ever bind
+      A mother’s pure, unaltered love.
+
+
+
+
+        ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+        I
+
+    There is a flower, whose modest mein
+      Seems every gazer’s eye to shun;
+    It flourishes, and fades unseen,
+      Through tepid showers, or radiant sun.
+
+
+        II
+
+    Where warm affection sheds its tears,
+      O’er some lost friend’s remember’d tomb,
+    Spite of the blast, its head it rears,
+      And seems to court the kindred gloom.
+
+
+        III
+
+    No gay parterre its blossoms share,
+      It dwells not in the busy croud,
+    But seeks the wild heath, bleak, and bare,
+      Or dwells in lonely solitude.
+
+
+        IV
+
+    It decks the humble, lowly dell,
+      Remov’d afar, from vice, and strife,
+    Where resignation loves to dwell,
+      When ills betide this varying life.
+
+
+        V
+
+    Its blossoms bath’d in pearly dew,
+      Its drooping crest and tearful eye,
+    Its lovely tints of azure hue,
+      Are emblems dear of sympathy.
+
+
+        VI
+
+    The wild bee, sips its honied store,
+      Disporting on, from flower, to flower;
+    The humming birds its sweets explore,
+      Shut from the precincts of the bower.
+
+
+        VII
+
+    And such, fair maid, thy modest mein,
+      It shuns the gazer’s vulgar eye,
+    Nor seek’st thou, eager to be seen,
+      The croud, where pleasure’s vot’ries hie.
+
+
+        VIII
+
+    But social virtues deck thy name,
+      A sympathetic heart is thine,
+    A soul that knows, nor guilt, nor shame,
+      Fraught with fair virtue’s power divine.
+
+
+        IX
+
+    Each grace that nature can impart,
+      Each generous feeling, too is thine,
+    Sincerity, that foe to art,
+      Richer than diamond of the mine.
+
+
+        X
+
+    May thy resemblance e’er remain,
+      To that soft, sympathetic flower;
+    Thy hues of grace, without a stain,
+      Await you to your latest hour.
+
+
+
+
+        STANZAS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+    Mark you, the stream of the cataract pouring,
+        Its wild wave o’er the rock!
+    Hear its rude sound, upon loud echo roaring;
+        Earth shakes beneath its shock.
+    Bright in the vale is its silver stream gliding;
+        Softly it murmurs along,
+    Sweet peace on its margent presiding,
+        Steals the soul with her song.
+    Mark you the wave of the rough ocean foaming!
+        While the sky is in gloom;
+    Death, o’er the breast of the mighty deep roaming,
+        Gives the poor mariner’s doom.
+    Riding relentless the pinions of æther!
+        He aims the lightnings dart;
+    Swells the faint cry of the desolate sailor,
+         Sees his spirit depart.
+
+    Calm is the breast of the tempest-toss’d ocean;
+        Hush’d is the thunder’s sound;
+    Still is the fierce elemental commotion;
+        Soft sigh the zephyrs round;
+    O’er the glad scene, in its radiance appearing,
+        The rainbow’s hues are seen;
+    The sun from the clouds misty canopy peering,
+        Gilds the tranquil scene.
+
+    So o’er the ocean of life as we’re sailing,
+        Wild waves our peace annoy;
+    Seeming, each blast of the tempest prevailing,
+        Hope in our breast to destroy;
+    The calm of tranquility, softly returning,
+        Quells the storms of the breast;
+    The rainbow of hope, in our bosom still burning,
+        Points to eternal rest.
+
+
+
+
+“THE MOON’s PALE RAY.”
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+    The moon’s pale ray is smiling o’er us,
+      And night is joyous in her beam;
+      So spread around, is fancy’s dream,
+    Tho’ life’s tempestuous sea, before us.
+
+    No breeze is up, with soft commotion
+      To stir the wild lake’s breast;
+      Our halcyon spirits rest,
+    Tho’ launch’d on life’s rough heaving ocean.
+
+    Calmly, our healthful spirits slumber
+      On youth’s unruffled wave;
+      Tho’ soon upon our grave
+    Affection’s wail may sound in sadest number.
+
+    When neath the sod our mould’ring bones are sleeping,
+      O! may sorrow mark the spot,
+      And love forget it not,
+    But still around our graves, be hallow’d vigils keeping.
+
+    Arround our current gay, blooms each fav’ring gift of heaven,
+      And love enchanting smiles,
+      But beware of cupid’s wiles,--
+    He shades with hues of death life’s fast approaching even.
+
+    O, may our frail bark, through smoothest seas be steering;
+      As yon moon’s pale placid beam,
+      Be our love a happy dream,
+    And each day our kindred spirits endearing.
+
+
+
+
+        ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+    Dark night has enfolded her mantle around me,
+      And the brightness of day to oblivion consign’d
+    No more the wild influence of passions confound me,
+      They have fled, and tranquility reigns o’er my mind.
+    All nature reposed, at this moment is sleeping,
+      And man has forgotten the turmoils of care,
+
+    Ev’n mem’ry, entranced, o’er past happiness weeping,
+      In the “semblance of death” imaged raptures may share.
+
+    Calm solitude’s power o’er my bosom is stealing,
+      In whispers of peace, its monition addres’t,
+    Arouses each pure spark of genuine feeling,
+      Allays every passion that ruffled my breast:
+
+    To the bright climes of fancy, where flowers ever blossom,
+      On the wild wing of thought, I would hurry my flight,
+    Shake off every sorrow that weighs on my bosom,
+      And roam with pure spirits in regions of light.
+
+    Indulging each sweet intelectual pleasure,
+      That fancy’s bright dream, upon man can bestow,
+    Could I taste of the joy, in its rapturous measure,
+      Without you to share it? believe me ah no!
+
+    Tho’ fancy may yield her precarious blessing,
+      Tho’ wit may enliven, and talent may glow,
+    ’Tis FRIENDSHIP alone, all our sorrows redressing,
+      Yields the purest delight that man’s bosom can know.
+
+
+
+
+        THE ALTER’D LAY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+        I
+
+    I gave the strain to wild despair,
+      When pleasure’s sweetest scenes had faded,
+    When youth’s gay dreams, so bright and fair,
+    Misfortune’s murky cloud had shaded.
+
+
+        II
+
+    But still, tho’ sorrow rul’d the song,
+      And grief, that gay delights would perish,
+    Would Hope a softer note prolong,
+      And bid my breast her influence cherish.
+
+
+        III
+
+    She bade me turn to each delight
+      That blest with smiles life’s radiant morning,
+    And still her hand, with visions bright
+      Was every future hour adorning.
+
+
+        IV
+
+    I counted every transient joy,
+      That deck’d the gay and blissful season
+    When I, “a visionary boy,”
+      Disclaim’d the voice of sober reason.
+
+
+        V
+
+    And memory swell’d the alter’d lay
+      With sounds of sweet, and transient gladness,
+    They told of pleasure’s fairy sway,
+      In hours that mock’d intrusive sadness.--
+
+
+        VI
+
+    And there was one, in hours gone past,
+      Whose smile was like the smile of heaven,
+    When beauty’s brightest hues are cast
+      Along the dress of summer even.--
+
+
+        VII
+
+    It woke, within my youthful breast,
+      Emotions dear, that never slumber,
+    They come when all is sunk to rest,
+      They breathe upon the sadden’d number.
+
+
+        VIII
+
+    The strain still lov’d to linger o’er
+      The mem’ry of our happy meeting,
+    In childhood’s wild, uncultured bower,
+      When heart met heart, in tender greeting.
+
+
+        IX
+
+    Her form, her face, Ah what were they?
+      Tho’ loveliest beauties there were dwelling;
+    The ringlets unrestrain’d that stray’d;
+      The ruby lip with nectar swelling?
+
+
+        X
+
+    Tho’ these were fair, her lovelier mind
+      Each outward beauty far exceeded,
+    By nature’s quick’ning power refined,
+      Soft Pity’s gentle voice it heeded.
+
+
+        XI
+
+    And love, had been the tender name
+      That swell’d our hearts in holiest union,
+    But ah! too young to own the flame,
+      We felt the bosom’s soft communion.
+
+
+        XII
+
+    Sudden, again--the tremb’ling lyre
+      Its sound, to sorrow’s notes surrender’d;
+    Lost was remember’d rapture’s fire,
+      And woe seem’d in its strings engender’d.
+
+
+        XIII
+
+    Why changed the sound? ah why! no more
+      Did rapture wake th’ inspiring measure?
+    Why jar’d despair the accents o’er,
+      Dark’ning each scene of vanish’d pleasure?
+
+
+        XIV
+
+    Wild shrieks the blast of heaven, round
+      The grave, where all her beauties wither;
+    The Yew-tree moans in solemn sound,
+      When gently stirs the ambient æther.
+
+
+        XIV
+
+    The cold sod wraps her lovely form,
+      That rapture to my soul imparted;
+    She lived in beauty! but the storm
+      In early morn, life’s current thwarted.
+
+
+        XVI
+
+    Where once the laughing, mirthful eye,
+      With joy’s bright beam was wont to glisten;
+    When time on pinions fleet went by,
+      And we to hope’s fond tale would listen:
+
+
+        XVII
+
+    Or when the tear-drop started there,--
+      The sympathetic gem of feeling,--
+    And o’er that face so passing fair
+      Soft pity’s sorrowing look was stealing.
+
+
+        XVIII
+
+    The icy worm his revel keeps,
+      And there, his form is dully shining,
+    Arround that lovely forehead creeps,
+      Or o’er her faded cheek is twining.
+
+
+        XIX
+
+    The bosom, once that heav’d with mine,
+      The throb of joy, or sigh of anguish,
+    When fancied ill, or fond delight,
+      Bade hope arise, or sudden languish.
+
+
+        XX
+
+    Sleeps silent, in the earthy grave.
+      No woe her angel-dreams disturbing;
+    Misfortune’s storm there cannot rave!
+      No passion’s power the rest perturbing.--
+
+
+        XXI
+
+    O be thy spirit ever near!
+      Attend my rude course to its closing;
+    Melvina!--still thy name is dear,
+      A thousand past delights disclosing.--
+
+
+        XXII
+
+    Thou wert to me, a kindred flower--
+      In nature’s garden, nurs’d together,--
+    We grew, till in a stormy hour
+      Thy vernal charms were doom’d to wither.
+
+
+        XXIII
+
+    But gladness still, shall mark the strain,
+      And hope shall point to brighter pleasure,
+    When our torn hearts shall meet again,
+      In hallow’d transport’s fullest measure.
+
+
+
+
+        _ERRATA._
+
+
+It is with much regret, that the publisher (notwithstanding his
+endeavours to prevent it) has discovered a few instances of erroneous
+typography--those which would impair the sense are the following:--
+
+     “Hours of Childhood,” page 19th, section VII, line 2d, for
+     _Scar’d_, read, _Sear’d_.
+
+     In “The Moon’s Pale Ray,” page 80th, 1st verse, 4th line, for
+     _sea_, read, _sea’s_.
+
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hours of childhood and other poems, by Anonymous</div>
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+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Hours of childhood and other poems</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anonymous</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 28, 2021 [eBook #64408]</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+
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+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div>
+
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOURS OF CHILDHOOD AND OTHER POEMS ***</div>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<p class="c">
+<a href="images/cover.jpg">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt="" /></a>
+</p>
+
+<p class="c">
+<a href="images/titlepage.jpg">
+<img src="images/titlepage.jpg"
+height="550"
+alt="" /></a>
+</p>
+
+<h1><span class="eng">Hours</span><br /><br />
+
+<small>OF</small><br /><br />
+
+<span class="eng">Childhood</span><br /><br />
+
+<small>AND</small><br /><br />
+
+OTHER POEMS<br /><br />
+
+<span class="eng">Montreal</span><br /><br />
+
+<small>PUBLISHED BY A. BOWMAN<br /><br />
+
+AUGUST<br /><br />
+
+1820.</small></h1>
+
+<p class="rt"><i><small>A. Bourne, Lc.</small></i></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i">{i}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<h1>
+HOURS OF CHILDHOOD,<br />
+<br />
+<small>AND</small><br />
+<br /><b>
+OTHER POEMS.</b><br />
+</h1>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i15">For me the day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath duties which require the vigorous hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of stedfast application, but which leave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No deep improving trace upon the mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But be the day another’s;&mdash;let it pass!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The night’s my own!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i15"><span class="smcap">Kirke White.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="c">
+MONTREAL:<br />
+PUBLISHED BY A. BOWMAN.<br />
+........<br />
+1820.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+<p>IT is a fact universally allowed, that few authors are so totally
+indifferent to the stamp which their writings may bear in the minds of
+the public, as to feel no anxiety concerning their success; and to
+contemplate with perfect composure, the prospect of a critical analysis
+of their productions, in which, each blemish is to be exposed to the
+most rigid censure.</p>
+
+<p>No writer is entirely exempt from this doubtful solicitude&mdash;even those
+who have raised themselves above the quibblings of fire-side
+commentators, and are only read to be admired, have their moments of
+fear;&mdash;the opinions of the public may change; critics may condemn, and
+their names may be tarnished by a failure.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Since</span> then, those who possess every classical requisite for poetical
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span>excellence; who are blessed with time, retirement, and an access to the
+writings of all nations, and ages; whose minds are cheered in their
+pursuits, by a solid hope of success, founded on the remembrance of
+former approbation, cannot altogether confide in their infallibility. It
+will not be doubted, that a youth, unlettered, and unlearned, who in his
+first essay has been debarred all those advantages which are considered
+almost indispensible in the pursuit of literary distinction&mdash;should
+appear before the public with the utmost diffidence; fearful that the
+pursuit which has given him employment in his midnight hours, and added
+a zest to his short period of leisure, should reflect discredit upon his
+authorship.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> writer of <span class="smcap">Hours of Childhood</span>, far from enjoying “<i>Poetic leisure</i>,”
+has, from the age of thirteen, filled a situation which requires “the
+vigorous hand of stedfast application,” and, which has left little time
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span>for studious improvement: But his work is to appear on the same stage,
+with the productions of the man of science; and to be judged by the same
+tribunal.&mdash;These are not happy auspices&mdash;yet, he ventures to present
+this volume to the public, conscious of the many defects which may be
+discovered in it,&mdash;but hoping to reap instruction from its fate. Nor
+would he deprecate criticism; he wishes only that the sentence bestowed
+upon it, should, as far as justice will allow, consider the
+circumstances under which it appears. It has no patron; it goes forth
+into the world, unprotected, and alone&mdash;to stand or fall by its own
+merits&mdash;as a tender parent ushers into the world a beloved
+child;&mdash;sensible of his faults, he cherishes a hope, that it will judge
+of them with charity; nor crush, by a sentence too severe, the latent
+seeds of virtue which may spring up to maturity and perfection. The
+child has been his comfort, in many an hour of sorrow; and fancy, with
+healing influ<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span>ence, has drawn his growing virtues starting forth into
+fragrant blossom. For whatever national feeling is expressed in this
+work, an apology cannot be necessary to a reasonable person, of what
+country soever: The warm attachment of the author to his <i>Native Land</i>,
+is but the natural feeling of every honest heart,&mdash;in that land, the
+hours of infancy were whiled away under the influence of hope, and
+fancy; and the delights of that innocent period, are engraven on the
+tablets of memory, in the lovely hues of youthful imagination. Nor does
+this laudable partiality cast a reflection upon the same predilection in
+the natives of other countries; those who feel the true <i>amor patriæ</i>
+are charmed with the same sentiment in others of whatever nation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> smaller pieces are the effusions of the moment written at different
+times, and are incapable of being altered from their original
+crudeness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td class="rt"><small><i>Page.</i></small></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><a href="#HOURS_OF_CHILDHOOD">Hours of Childhood,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#A_MOTHERS_LOVE">A Mother’s Love,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#ADDRESSED_TO_A_YOUNG_LADY">Addressed to a Young Lady,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#STANZAS">Stanza’s,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#THE_MOONS_PALE_RAY">“The Moon’s Pale Ray”,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#ADDRESSED_TO_A_FRIEND">To a Friend,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#THE_ALTERD_LAY">The Alter’d Lay,</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<h2><a name="POEMS" id="POEMS"></a>POEMS.<br /><br />
+<img src="images/image009.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" /></h2>
+
+<h2><a name="HOURS_OF_CHILDHOOD" id="HOURS_OF_CHILDHOOD"></a>HOURS OF CHILDHOOD.</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">THERE is a solace to the aching breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long worn by care, that sighs for tranquil rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst toils of day, in slumbers of the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fond memory paints each infantine delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each vanish’d joy that woke the bosom’s glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When all look’d gay as heaven’s aerial bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And youth, and health, and nature’s charms combin’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shed calm contentment o’er the guileless mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ceaseless waves of time, that swiftly roll<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s feeble bark to dark oblivion’s goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweep harmless o’er the mem’ry of those days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When childhood tuned its unambitious lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soft-eyed pleasure, in her gay attire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woke the wild numbers of the trembling lyre.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Bright were the scenes that fancy drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And blythe the hours that gaily flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In life’s gay morn, when all was new;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And softly, hope her radiance shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In happy childhood, round my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deceitful smiled; that angel smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was wont my sorrows to beguile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every transient cloud of woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dim’d the visions of my eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fled, as the sun’s enliv’ning glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chas’d the light vapour from the sky:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nature, in that halcyon hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Claim’d o’er my mind a magic power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ope’d to my eye her boundless store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bade her vast delights explore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her solemn contemplative glades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her grottoes cool, her sylvan shades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or where she wears no gentle smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But frowning wastes her form despoil;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst gloomy haunts and forests drear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where silence tires the drowsy ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or where, with stunning sound, the waves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toss boisterous, when the tempest raves.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">And fancy, oft, would guide my feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To glooms, where sleepless spirits wander’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or lonely vales, retirement sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where some lorn stream its course meander’d.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft, in some deep untrodden dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Eremite might build his cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remote from all the ills that wait<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pompous equipage of state;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To human steps so much unknown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ev’n thought might find herself alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nought on her silence to intrude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or break her much lov’d solitude.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imagination’s forceful power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would charm away the passing hour;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fondly picture scenes of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By hoary matron’s legend told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In number’s mystic, strange, and wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To soothe me, when a froward child;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of ravening giant of the wold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of ladie fair, and gallant bold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grey hair’d minstrel, blythe and old;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of martial lists, of daring deeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of nodding plumes, and prancing steeds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of knight caparison’d in arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To combat for a damsel’s charms:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or still, the more replete with fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The story whisper’d in the ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest angry fiend, perchance, might hear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wither’d hag, or wandring sprite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who roam the unhallow’d hour of night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or form more gay, of Fairy light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, when the moon’s soft ray is glancing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the flowery green, is dancing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In many an airy roundelay;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vanishing ere dawn of day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Ah! in life’s morn, the trusting soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is calm;&mdash;the hours unheeded roll;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No passions urge their fierce controul.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, not a wish was unsupplied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For scarce a boon had I to crave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save those, which in the heart abide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And those indulgent nature gave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the blossom of my cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose bud’s hue was wont to speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The calmest sunshine of the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That health and happiness impart:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free, as the mountain breeze, was I!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sweeps the light cloud o’er the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unknown a foretaste of the woes,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Companions of man’s ripening years,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bar the eyelids from repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wash them with untimely tears.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I knew not, then, the brow o’ercast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By gloomy thought, or sullen care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I brooded o’er no pleasures past;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The future, all look’d bright and fair:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An undefined, elysian dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Illum’d by hope’s deceitful beam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hope has past!&mdash;its early ray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more irradiates my way.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">How wildly swells the craggy height!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence the rough torrent, rushing bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In morning’s gay reflected beams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sheet of burnished silver seems;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bickering wave, and foaming spray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In columns rising to the day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, midst the far resounding roar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dark plumed eagles proudly soar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commingling, with the discord rude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wakes the mountain solitude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their rustling pinion’s heavy sound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bodeing, and terrific scream;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Re-echoing o’er the cliff profound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Startling the owlet from his dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, in the darkest wood, supreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sullen loneliness, he sits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mutt’ring his moody tones by fits;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till evening spreads her shadow dun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, ’neath the western hill, the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has sunk, his daily circle run.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, to some distant turret’s height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He speeds his melancholy flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mope, unseen, the livelong night.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where every sense, in tumult drown’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yields to the mighty torrent’s sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I loved in thoughtfulness to roam;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the swift cataract, white with foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rush’d down the steep, in tumult rude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To muse in contemplative mood;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dwell, upon the mountain’s brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the soft scenes that spread below.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! there are those, who senseless, scorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each joy of lovely nature born!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor listen to her angel voice.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too sadly erring in their choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fly the unfrequented shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bower, for contemplation made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek in concourse, noise, and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those calmer joys of human life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which only in retirement dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remote from folly’s wild’ring spell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is a music in the sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That swells the eddying stream around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A boldness in the torrent’s flood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A calmness in the waving wood;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A softness in the verdant vale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fragrant flowers their balm exhale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fills the bosom with delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And charms the child of nature’s sight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I loved to stand upon the rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sear’d many an age by thunder’s shock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mark the boiling flood beneath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toss its wild foam, in many a wreath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And count each bubble, as it rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like joy’s bright gem, midst seas of woes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whelm’d, instant, in the rushing tide;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too vain and empty to abide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So rise, upon life’s flowing stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gay, who shine in folly’s beam:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They glitter bright their little hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shallow tools of transient power.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, like the bubble on the wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They sink beneath the pow’r that gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their fleeting splendour; by the frown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of tyrants hurl’d from grandeur down.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Oft, on the mountain’s highest peak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round which rude peals of thunder break,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tempests from on high are hurl’d,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ve stood, and mark’d, beneath unfurl’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The varied charms of nature’s face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, undisturb’d, my eye could trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each winding brook, each rushing stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each charm that wakes in fancy’s dream;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ocean’s measureless expanse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On whose calm breast bright shadows glance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unruffled, pure, and peaceful, save<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where zephyrs fan its sleeping wave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, breaking thro’ its endless blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft rise the isles of verdant hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where heavenly habitants might rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sanctify earth’s lovely breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fancy oft would paint, (among<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their verdant bowers, where wild bird’s song<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enliven’d, with its melody,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tranquil scene; which well might vie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With nature’s fairest, loveliest spot,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blest, and undisturbed lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With some congenial, tender breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek retirement, peace, and rest,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bid to folly’s train adieu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For verdant isle, in ocean blue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Or stretched, in undulating maze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tire with charms the wandering gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The landscape bright before me lays:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The valley, hill abrupt, and steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sequester’d dell, remote and deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rustling fields of golden corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Emblazon’d by the beams of morn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hamlet’s cluster’d form, where rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With health, and peace, the simply blest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where reigns, (by heaven auspicious lent,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joy’s purest spirit, calm content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enlivening every rustic eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That beams with self-taught sympathy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blest with each joy these scenes impart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soothe, yet not corrupt the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unversed in manners of the crowd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The falsly gay, the meanly proud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who scoff at peasant joys aloud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unversed in fashion’s mystic lore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Untaught to crave another’s store;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They peaceful live, and calmly die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embosom’d in tranquillity.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The waving forest’s wide domain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the lawn, my vision greets.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, every verdure softly meets;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The towering pine’s deep em’rald stain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The willow’s light and cheerful green;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beach, in yellow foilage drest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poplar’s dark and shining vest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its leaves, in every breath that quiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the cool air seem to shiver;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each bright variety of hue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There strikes upon th’ admiring view.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through its dark groves’ refreshing shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wild breeze hollow murmurs made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its bosom heav’d with gentle motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the softly troubled ocean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath that forest’s sombre shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft have my vagrant footsteps stray’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft have I paus’d, its depths among,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To breathe a light and artless song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft paus’d amidst its gloomy haunts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where nature’s wildest livery flaunts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heave the sigh that childhood grants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When crowds of wishes, undefined,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steal on the uninstructed mind.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Why did I sigh? I knew not, yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A semblance even of regret;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why did I sigh? was it, because<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature’s fair bloom would soon decay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fountain’s stream would know a pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The forest’s foilage fade away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each fairy vale, each verdant meadow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would pass, like morning’s fleeting shadow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah no! that gloomy hour was fraught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all the luxury of thought;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A willing gloom, a painful pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Play’d o’er my heart in rapt’rous measure;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twas poesy’s spirit swell’d my soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bade, on fancy’s golden pinions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Airy thoughts, extatic, roll<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the mind’s unchain’d dominions.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">’Twas meditation’s hallowed ground!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soft she shed her influence round:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er many a forest flower I stray’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bloom’d beneath the dark oak’s shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yielded sweet its wild perfume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrouded in uncongenial gloom,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And birds, from soft melodious throats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gentle echo sung their notes.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Upon the wild stream’s shadowy brink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis sweet, alone to stand, and think;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In riper years it claims a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sigh, the bosom cannot stifle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as the current rushes by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rending each flower that blossoms nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So time our early joys will rifle.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Delights, that gild our dawn of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the swift stream, will pass away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each image, in life’s early dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dissolves, ere manhood’s stronger beam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lights the true pathway of our fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shows how vain, (but ah too late!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was the fair future fancy gave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vain as the streamlet’s gliding wave,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sparkles but a moment’s space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then fades, nor leaves one single trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of where, or what it was before,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lost in the billow’s ceaseless roar!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We gaze, and as the river flows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life’s varying course its passage shows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, swell’d by headlong mountain streams;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">“Now, softly murmuring calm and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far off its waveless mirror gleams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">“(And heaven’s own shadow spreads below)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the ever blooming grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">“Like future joy thro’ hope’s false beams:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fickle, frail, and worthless prove!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each hour that owns bright pleasure’s sway;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fire of genius; fancy’s ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love’s cheating power, and ardent flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All! all! save friendship’s sacred name,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the torrent wave of time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flee, with our manhood’s fleeting prime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave, alone, the sullen gloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of spirits, journeying to the tomb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save, that, tho’ faint her light is beaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hope</span> still upon the soul is gleaming!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Points, thro’ misfortune’s darkest shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To brighter joys, that never fade;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not vivid, as in life’s gay morning<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">“She danc’d in nature’s lovely bowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not falsely, as in youth adorning<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With promis’d ecstacy the hours!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But calm, unclouded, firm, and pure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho’ dim her beams, their guidance sure.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So on the last resounding wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That speeds to an unfathom’d grave,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sunbeam sheds its brilliant ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On each bright drop its glimm’rings play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It fades in radiant beams of day:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whelm’d in the ocean’s bosom deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silent waves unconscious sleep;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unconscious, that they once had swept<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the soil, where genius slept;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or bounded o’er the rocky height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swell’d into rage by tempest’s might;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, that their waters once had laved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A land that ne’er might be enslaved;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By patriot arm in peril sav’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ev’n as unconscious as the clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wraps our remnants of decay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When to the joyless sea of age<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Recedes the stream of youthful rage.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Hark! from the village, distant far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Re-echoed, varied discords jar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The busy hum, the social din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That welcome gentle twilight in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come swelling, from the vale below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up the lone mountain’s craggy side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeping “in solemn tones and slow,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round the broad summit’s crested pride:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gently o’er the water dashing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the silver waves are flashing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the rays of yellow light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That mark the near approach of night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How lovely is the placid hour!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How soft and tranquil is its power,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere the sun’s last faint tints have faded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While yet the tender radiance lingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heaven’s softest colours shaded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By gentle twilight’s fairy fingers.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The swain from healthful labour turns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lingering steps, as, dimly burns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon yon western summit’s height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sol’s latest beams of golden light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the dear cot where labors cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kind endearments whisper peace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around their smiling father’s knee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In unassum’d and heartfelt glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The troop of little urchins press,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clamour for his fond caress.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor slighted is the dame’s embrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud of her simple, virtuous race.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Soft smiling, in the burnish’d west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Phoebus’ orb has sunk to rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shines heavenly Venus’s goddess light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Propitious beam to lovers sight:)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thick starry throngs pervade the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, on the gentle water lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The semblance of the lovely heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drest in the hues of comeing even’;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, as the Zephyr stirs the breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On which the starry myriads rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty band, in tumult tost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now glimmer, now they fade away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In seeming, wild confusion lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like glitt’ring spears in mortal fray.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, as the semblance struck my eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came the long tale across my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of conq’ring hosts, and victory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That proud ambition’s votries blind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To evils reason can descry.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Or upland, from the ocean’s surge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I turn’d my eye, the landscape’s verge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(As twilight’s lovely hour come on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And faint along the horizon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bland nature’s soft, and tender dye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed mingling with the hues of sky,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Was drest in softest livery.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When all around was sweet and still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its distant note the Whip-poor-will<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sigh’d on the zephyr’s airy sail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That softly swept along the vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o’er the stream, in magic swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The echo fondly loved to dwell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if, beneath its chrystal wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sought a calm and tranquil grave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Till wak’d, the softly solemn strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Renew’d its music wild again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And echo, still, the note repeated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vale, and hill, its numbers greeted.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Far off, upon the village green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The children at their sports are seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath fair Cynthia’s argent ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mazy squadrons mix’d, they play.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, to the ranks of mimic war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They rush, beneath the martial star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its red rays beaming from afar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brandish high the edgeless brand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poise the musket at command,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While every bosom, frought with ire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feels all a hero’s glowing fire:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or o’er the plain, in panting chace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The football-sports provoke the race;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hark! the wild and clam’rous shout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hails the victors of the rout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The boyish note, of rapt’rous glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The joy of bloodless victory.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">How happy! but they all must know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poignant sting of human woe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Short is the morning of delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all its tints are sweetly bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No cloud tempestuous mars its peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till sad conviction bids it cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reason’s voice, in thund’ring sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bids view each real object round;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sorrows all are doom’d to brave&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save those, who, where the cypress wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have hap’ly found an early grave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, they in sweet unconsciousness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nought know of sorrow, woe, or care!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sod, in infant thoughtlessness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cradles their forms in silence there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And, in the fitful gusts of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The drooping willow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their turf with bending foilage sweeps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each branch, in dewy fragrance, weeps<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the cold grave, where childhood sleeps<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">On balmy pillow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blest lot, to reach the happy goal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When unpolluted was the soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere vice had dim’d the heavenly ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or mix’d that spark with baser clay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The goal of our short human course<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No skill can pass; no giant force<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can change its being or its date;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All tread the downward path of fate!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O who would o’er their cold graves sigh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shed one parting tear of sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They died in happy infancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They live in day that knows no morrow.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mark! the bright moon, thro’ azure sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sails slow, in conscious majesty!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No cloud o’er all the heav’n is seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, like the spirit of a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When nought of earth dare intervene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She darts around her softest beam!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It glitters on the rippling stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It dwells along the hillock’s side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sleeps upon the ocean’s tide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sparkles o’er the forest wide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every shrub, and every flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Owns its soft sway, and magic power:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dew drops, on the velvet green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glitter beneath the radiance sheen;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around, in wild profusion spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The violet droops its modest head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The daisy rears its pensile stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dressing the turf with many a gem;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A chequer’d carpet, spangled meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sprightly dance of fairy feet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Titania, as in ancient days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She liv’d in Shakespeare’s magic lays,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might o’er the turf unearthly glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lead the circles of the dance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Oberon in concert move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peerless Queen of airy love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Upon the rude rock’s barren height<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoots the pale ray of lunar light;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, streaming round its gloomy base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright beams the murky darkness chase.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, the intentive eye may trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sparkling granite’s shining grain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dusky flint’s conspicuous vein;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a fragment, rudely rent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When thunder shook the firmament.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the proud sons of wealth and power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In riot spend the midnight hour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In wine dissolve their cares away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fain be vicious, to be gay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let wealth unfold her glittering store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An hour of peace, I value more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than mines of India’s golden ore;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let all her pleasures sense display,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hour more rapture yields than they.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such an hour, the soul is free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From shackles of mortality;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such an hour, in scenes like this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reflection opes her store of bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fancy’s bright, unclouded trance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bids, before the enraptured eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Light unearthly spirits dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a fabled form arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In recording memory’s glance.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">O’er all the landscape’s varied scene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My footsteps wander’d; up the green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro’ tangled forest spreading wide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the mountain’s echoing side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through vales where streams pellucid glide;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er lawns the forest groves between,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence, dim, the mountain’s head is seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embosom’d in a misty veil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In giant strength it views the dale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the soft landscape’s tranquil form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frowns, midst the terrors of the storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scorns the low beauties of the vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bares its forehead to the gale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such he, whose high, ambitious mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sighs for an empire unconfined;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The path of blood, and danger braves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tyrannise a land of slaves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who stems, with iron nerve, the tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To raise his empire’s tow’ring pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who scorns the humble vale of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Retirement, and domestic ease;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No joy within his bosom glows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To virtue cold as Alpine snows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No blessing falls upon his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For him no fervant prayer is said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unknown to him the soul serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The smiling eye, the cheerful mein;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace flies his bosom, fell despair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fixes her fiend-like impress there;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None weep his fall, none dress his bier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or heave for him one sigh sincere;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor love, nor friendship’s soothing power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attend his dissolution’s hour.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The Macedonian’s restless mood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deluged the world in kindred blood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not half the globe in fetters chain’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could sate him, while the rest remain’d.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unmeasured, as earth’s farthest bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ambition, still new conquest found;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still, though lord of every soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enrich’d by every kingdom’s spoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unknown to him the pure delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of deeds approved in virtue’s sight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood mark’d the progress of his fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And terror waits upon his name.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The Roman, whose resistless hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spread war to Britain’s distant land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bade Rome’s brave eagles, proudly sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er every strand, o’er every deep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after thousand perils brav’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His country’s liberties enslaved:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Count not the nations he subdued;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Count not the toils his strength withstood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Count not his honest martial fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fix a stamp to Cæsar’s name!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mark but the moral of his end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the poinard of his friend.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But tranquil scenes, from vice apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Infuse their influence in the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Instruct the mind, delight the eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soften disappointment’s sigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well did I know, no future bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst busy crouds, could equal this,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well did my bosom’s rapture tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No future hours would please so well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet oft, a vagrant wish would rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To breath the air of foreign skies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still would I heave a half formed sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On other scenes to feast my eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Extend o’er earth my raptured view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And search creation’s beauties through;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh had that wish but been suppress’d!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sigh ne’er heav’d my infant breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still had I in retirement dwelt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quiet’s tranquil influence felt.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXVI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I gaz’d upon the pale moon’s face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sought the meteor’s path to trace;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I counted every orb of light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gem’d the azure vault of night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gaz’d o’er all the starry train<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Till softly, sleep came o’er my brain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My senses sunk in soft repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright visions to my sight arose.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXVII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The moon has fled upon the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more it gilds the murm’ring rill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stars are faint, and dimly seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unlighted by their lovely queen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The magic of the night is past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And morning’s rays are coming fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the grey skirtings of the east,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the ocean’s waveless breast,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint streaks of doubtful light appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Betok’ning Phœbus’s chariot near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountains in the spreading light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gleam from their dark and cloudy height;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stretch shadowy, o’er the landscape wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tremble on the ebbing tide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the low dewy vale’s retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Light clouds of mist the morning greet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, stronger from the orient streaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er nature’s breast the sun is beaming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glittering woods enliven’d smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fields resound the voice of toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Light songsters flutter in the groves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pleasure o’er the woodland roves:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark! o’er the valley, soft and clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rustic song swells on the ear;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The song by health and joy inspired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hearts with nature’s beauties fired.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXVIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is there, among the giddy throng<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who heedless sweep time’s course along,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, who such scenes unmoved has view’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor felt his childhood’s joys renew’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose eye has on such beauties dwelt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his cold bosom never felt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its thoughts with solemn power refined,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rapture steal upon his mind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No pure emotions fill his soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No bright reflections o’er it roll;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis form’d in dark, and savage mould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No genial virtues there unfold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sombre, as the glooms of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The forms that please its callous sight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold to each virtue’s hallowed feeling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The heart that nature cannot warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That owns not, round each fibre stealing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In lonely wilds, her secret charm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chaseing every cloud of sadness!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yielding calm and placid gladness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis nature prompts each noble aim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each softer grace is nature’s claim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each trait, from varied nature caught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fix’d in the mind, with her is fraught:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hardy Swiss, from mountain rock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As hardy stems the battle shock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Italia’s soft and verdant plains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Repeat the lute’s melodious strains;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each nation, wheresoe’er you range,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Change as the scenes of nature change.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXIX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">And thou, my country, lov’d so dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of free hearts, and faith sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair freedom’s blest, congenial home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou landmark in an age of gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Claim’st, from the gales that round thee sweep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy forests wild, thy summits steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy rushing torents rudely swelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The rocks, thy mighty eagle’s dwelling;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A hardy, independant band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bulwark of thy favor’d land.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">When the bright arms of Albion bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rude war, to thy affrighted shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Britain’s cross, in warlike form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lower’d oe’r thee like a thunder storm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, from their wild, uncouth domain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hardy patriots sallied forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Display’d, on bloody battle plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their generous ardor, loyal worth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There nature in her bosom wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had nurs’d her patriotic child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who gave my native soil a name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Undying as creations frame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His was the valor that imparts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its influence to his followers’ hearts;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His was the skill his foes to foil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every art, escape each toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insure success by wise delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or sudden snatch the prize away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">In childhood, to my listening ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O! <span class="smcap">Washington</span>! thy name was dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Embalm’d in every freeman’s breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The memory of thy deeds shall rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first on glory’s radiant line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In after days, thy name shall shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The freeman’s beacon blaze of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Columbia’s proudly beaming star.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First in the senate’s grave debate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First at the troubled helm of state;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy name shall fill the future page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greatest of the present age.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Such were the charms that pleas’d my eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When infant years flew swiftly by.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Past are those scenes, those days are fled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those joys are sleeping with the dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world has oped her gaudy store<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pleasures, unconceived before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far from my childhood’s happy home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wand’ring footsteps widely roam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah; to whatever clime I stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fond memory still shall point the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the lone, undisturb’d retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sped life’s morning, bright and fleet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where childhood’s hours were gaily spent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With virtue, peace, and sweet content.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beauties of a lovelier sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speak less of heaven to my eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The verdure of a distant plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The billows of a foreign main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raise not the rapture of delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like scenes that charm our infant sight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Oh home! thou dearest, loveliest spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">However bleak, however wild!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy mem’ry time can never blot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whate’er thro’ life may be my lot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, thou shalt charm thy wand’ring child;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho’ many a ling’ring year has past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since thy fond circle shed the tear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(To one bright eye it was the last)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many heav’d a sigh sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sorrow, genuine sorrow started,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from thy blest retreats I parted;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, tho’ the wreaths that fancy braided<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In thy lov’d bosom, long have faded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those friends who lov’d my infancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Claim still my bosom’s warmest sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They love me still, no fate can sever<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That faithful bond that bides for ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mother’s fond unfeigning love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fails only, with the throb of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It cannot false, or faithless prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By wo unmov’d, unaw’d by strife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh dearer far than wealth, or fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is a lov’d mother’s honor’d name,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It leads us in our early way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere reason lends its guardian ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It points to virtue’s bright reward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It bids us shun deceitful vice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Persuasion drops from every word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And love attunes that heavenly voice.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But he, whose pure affection blest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With friendship’s flame my days of rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brother&mdash;generous, brave, and gay,<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sleep his limbs in dull decay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enshrin’d not were his relics cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er his deep grave no prayer was told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No sigh breath’d softly o’er his bier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none, save strangers, shed a tear;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A last sad tear, at life’s dark close,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The end of all our joys and woes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There famine’s meagre power was nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sunk was the cheek, the hollow eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rob’d of its lustre, dimly view’d<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One mighty sweep of billows rude;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No happy isle strikes on its fading beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faintly its orb emits a dying gleam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turns, instinctive, his receding sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards that dear land where first he saw the light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then did remembrance, to his anguish’d heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each youthful scene, with all its joys impart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Barb’d every pang that rent his laboring breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And death’s pale form in tenfold horrors drest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, came that tender, momentary thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With wildest, deepest, mortal anguish fraught,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It dwelt on those, who, in the morn of life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had blest his boyhood, free from noise and strife:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, as his last, his lonely prayers arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the wild blast, he struggles, gasps, and dies!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Midst coral caves, in ocean’s bosom deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brother belov’d! O tranquil be thy sleep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round the gay clusters of the green Ladrones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sea-gale sighs, the rushing billow moans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There murm’rings soft, shall lull thy form to rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy soul shall dwell in regions of the blest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> One of the company of the ship Resource, lost in the China
+seas, Nov. 20th, 1818.</p></div>
+
+<h3>XXXV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">How oft, did hope thy blest return pourtray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bid me dwell upon that joyous day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When once again, from every danger free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy bounding vessel from the stormy sea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should to my arms, thy much lov’d form restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To taste each blessing of thy native shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To charm thy bosom after years of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ceaseless labor for unstable gain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft, in fond fancy, would I seem to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy tale of sorrow murm’ring in my ear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the wild tempest toss’d thy ship on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fate seem’d brooding in the whirlwind’s sigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How swift she flew before the lightning breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swept resistless o’er the foaming seas;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or where in polar region’s wintry reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where endless frost o’er nature binds its chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stiffen’d canvass whistled in the blast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the vex’d cordage lash’d the lonely mast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How in the fairest, most enchanting scenes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where blooming China spreads her living greens,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her citron forests, and her Orange bowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her vines of plenty, rich in fruit, and flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, still, thy home was dearest, loveliest still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fond remembrance oft thy eyes would fill:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fled the hope; no more thy comely form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rapt’rous gladness, shall my bosom warm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never, again, shall I those features trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That join’d to harmonize thy manly face;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Entomb’d, unhonor’d, tho’ thy bones may lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy fate shall claim the deeply-breathing sigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far distant, sunk in ocean’s caverns drear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thee, snail stream the sympathizing tear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXVI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">O virtue! ever be my guide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whatever storms my life betide!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May I, where’er my wand’rings lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still scorn dishonor’s thriftless deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still glory in a spotless name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wishes few, my passions tame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, may my native country be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dearer than foreign climes, to me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, may the mem’ry of my sires<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My bosom fill with patriot fires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awake Columbia’s spirit there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And prompt, her weal, and wo to share;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O who! that bears a human heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would basely shun an active part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In day of danger, and of dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When foes their native soil invade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would mark their country drench’d in blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor pant to join the sanguine flood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To die, or conquer in her cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And win fair virtue’s warm applause;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To plant, upon the tott’ring breach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eagle banner stain’d with gore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pour the life-stream on the beach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere foot of foeman touch’d the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where freedom dwells forevermore.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXVII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">So will her sons, supremely brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoice in vict’ry or the grave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Howe’er around the world they rove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still, they their native soil will love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spark, from thee, great <span class="smcap">Washington</span>!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First breath’d, shall warm each patriot son,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raise in their breasts the lasting fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ev’n in death, shall ne’er expire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, from their cold remains arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flame of future victories.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXXVIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The lay that memory, lenient goddess, lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is ended, and my form, that fondly bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the wild tones that swell my untaught lyre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has ceased, extinct the momentary fire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mute is the voice, that erewhile tuned the lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sung, dear distant home, thy honest praise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh when again, shall I thy scenes review,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each fond tie of tenderness renew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roam once again, along thy lovely stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Court, on thy hills, the moon’s first glitt’ring beam;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dwell on the beauties of thy landscape wide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hear the torrent, on thy mountain side:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tired of the busy, of the bustling scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wishes dwell along thy circled green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound o’er the intervening vast of space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the beauties of thy landscape trace;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho far removed, my native grove, from thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My faithful heart midst thy wild scenes will be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When fancy lends her wings of loveliest hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And past delights come rushing to the view;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mark the sequester’d beauties of thy vales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And breathe again thy healthful mountain gales;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remembrance, sweetly, every charm shall bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That woke delight, in youth’s gay radiant spring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dearest blessing of my life shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lasting mem’ry, and the love of thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_MOTHERS_LOVE" id="A_MOTHERS_LOVE"></a>A MOTHER’S LOVE.<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image067.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">THERE is a feeling, warm and true<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As that of seraphims above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sheds its balm like Hermon’s dew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is a tender mother’s love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright is the pure incipient flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That warms the breast of ardent youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dear the passion nought can tame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Inspired by beauty, virtue, truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet is the sound of friendship’s voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That bids each pulse to rapture move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bids each barren scene rejoice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But sweeter far a mother’s love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fond is the feeling, that inspires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With filial love, the tender child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gratitude his bosom fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To her, who on his boyhood smil’d.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But placid, pure, and undefiled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(By nature is the fabric wove)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By nature giv’n the savage wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or christian; is a mother’s love.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mark! where of rosy health bereft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Emaciate, wan, and deadly pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The blood its dying cheek has left,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The infant lifts its feeble wail.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And see! the mother by its side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sunk in dejected, tearless woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As thro’ its veins, the ebbing tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She views decline, with gradual flow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No sorrowing accent strikes the ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To tell the workings of her grief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No sob is heard, no falling tear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her burning anguish yield relief.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Tis silent, as the breathless air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In midnight’s deepest, darkest shade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hopeless shadow of despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That asks not consolation’s aid.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The infant dies!&mdash;remember’d still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More precious to the soul it seems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For glowing mem’ry paints at will<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A thousand charms in fancy’s dreams.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That form, thro’ many a lapse of years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comes on imagination’s wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft, its mother’s soul it chears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And seems an angel’s smile to bring.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See yonder mother! on her breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In innocence her infant lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In smiles that mark the soul at rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How on his sleep she loves to gaze;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her soul is in her placid eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And rapture lights its beaming glance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How softly heaves her bosom’s sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In pure affection’s loveliest trance.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That glance, the rapture of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those sighs, her tranquil breast that move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are pledges dear, that ever bind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A mother’s pure, unaltered love.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ADDRESSED_TO_A_YOUNG_LADY" id="ADDRESSED_TO_A_YOUNG_LADY"></a>
+ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image072.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There</span> is a flower, whose modest mein<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seems every gazer’s eye to shun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It flourishes, and fades unseen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through tepid showers, or radiant sun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where warm affection sheds its tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O’er some lost friend’s remember’d tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spite of the blast, its head it rears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And seems to court the kindred gloom.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No gay parterre its blossoms share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It dwells not in the busy croud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But seeks the wild heath, bleak, and bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or dwells in lonely solitude.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It decks the humble, lowly dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remov’d afar, from vice, and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where resignation loves to dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When ills betide this varying life.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Its blossoms bath’d in pearly dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its drooping crest and tearful eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its lovely tints of azure hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are emblems dear of sympathy.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wild bee, sips its honied store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Disporting on, from flower, to flower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The humming birds its sweets explore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shut from the precincts of the bower.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And such, fair maid, thy modest mein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It shuns the gazer’s vulgar eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor seek’st thou, eager to be seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The croud, where pleasure’s vot’ries hie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But social virtues deck thy name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A sympathetic heart is thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A soul that knows, nor guilt, nor shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fraught with fair virtue’s power divine.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each grace that nature can impart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each generous feeling, too is thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sincerity, that foe to art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Richer than diamond of the mine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May thy resemblance e’er remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To that soft, sympathetic flower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy hues of grace, without a stain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Await you to your latest hour.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="STANZAS" id="STANZAS"></a>STANZAS.<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image077.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mark</span> you, the stream of the cataract pouring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Its wild wave o’er the rock!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear its rude sound, upon loud echo roaring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Earth shakes beneath its shock.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright in the vale is its silver stream gliding;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Softly it murmurs along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet peace on its margent presiding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Steals the soul with her song.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mark you the wave of the rough ocean foaming!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">While the sky is in gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death, o’er the breast of the mighty deep roaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Gives the poor mariner’s doom.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Riding relentless the pinions of æther!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He aims the lightnings dart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swells the faint cry of the desolate sailor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Sees his spirit depart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calm is the breast of the tempest-toss’d ocean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hush’d is the thunder’s sound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still is the fierce elemental commotion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft sigh the zephyrs round;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er the glad scene, in its radiance appearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The rainbow’s hues are seen;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun from the clouds misty canopy peering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Gilds the tranquil scene.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So o’er the ocean of life as we’re sailing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wild waves our peace annoy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeming, each blast of the tempest prevailing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hope in our breast to destroy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The calm of tranquility, softly returning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Quells the storms of the breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rainbow of hope, in our bosom still burning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Points to eternal rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MOONS_PALE_RAY" id="THE_MOONS_PALE_RAY"></a>
+“THE MOON’s PALE RAY.”<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image080.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> moon’s pale ray is smiling o’er us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And night is joyous in her beam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So spread around, is fancy’s dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho’ life’s tempestuous sea, before us.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No breeze is up, with soft commotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To stir the wild lake’s breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our halcyon spirits rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho’ launch’d on life’s rough heaving ocean.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calmly, our healthful spirits slumber<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On youth’s unruffled wave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tho’ soon upon our grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affection’s wail may sound in sadest number.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When neath the sod our mould’ring bones are sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O! may sorrow mark the spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And love forget it not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still around our graves, be hallow’d vigils keeping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Arround our current gay, blooms each fav’ring gift of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And love enchanting smiles,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But beware of cupid’s wiles,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shades with hues of death life’s fast approaching even.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, may our frail bark, through smoothest seas be steering;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As yon moon’s pale placid beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be our love a happy dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each day our kindred spirits endearing.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ADDRESSED_TO_A_FRIEND" id="ADDRESSED_TO_A_FRIEND"></a>
+ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND.<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image083.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Dark</span> night has enfolded her mantle around me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the brightness of day to oblivion consign’d<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more the wild influence of passions confound me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They have fled, and tranquility reigns o’er my mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All nature reposed, at this moment is sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And man has forgotten the turmoils of care,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ev’n mem’ry, entranced, o’er past happiness weeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the “semblance of death” imaged raptures may share.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Calm solitude’s power o’er my bosom is stealing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In whispers of peace, its monition addres’t,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arouses each pure spark of genuine feeling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Allays every passion that ruffled my breast:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To the bright climes of fancy, where flowers ever blossom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the wild wing of thought, I would hurry my flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shake off every sorrow that weighs on my bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And roam with pure spirits in regions of light.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Indulging each sweet intelectual pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That fancy’s bright dream, upon man can bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could I taste of the joy, in its rapturous measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without you to share it? believe me ah no!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tho’ fancy may yield her precarious blessing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tho’ wit may enliven, and talent may glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis <span class="smcap">Friendship</span> alone, all our sorrows redressing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yields the purest delight that man’s bosom can know.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ALTERD_LAY" id="THE_ALTERD_LAY"></a>THE ALTER’D LAY.<br /><br />
+
+<img src="images/image086.png"
+width="80"
+alt="" />
+</h2>
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I <span class="smcap">gave</span> the strain to wild despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When pleasure’s sweetest scenes had faded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When youth’s gay dreams, so bright and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Misfortune’s murky cloud had shaded.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still, tho’ sorrow rul’d the song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And grief, that gay delights would perish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would Hope a softer note prolong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bid my breast her influence cherish.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She bade me turn to each delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That blest with smiles life’s radiant morning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still her hand, with visions bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was every future hour adorning.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I counted every transient joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That deck’d the gay and blissful season<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I, “a visionary boy,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Disclaim’d the voice of sober reason.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And memory swell’d the alter’d lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With sounds of sweet, and transient gladness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They told of pleasure’s fairy sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In hours that mock’d intrusive sadness.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there was one, in hours gone past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose smile was like the smile of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When beauty’s brightest hues are cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along the dress of summer even.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It woke, within my youthful breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Emotions dear, that never slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They come when all is sunk to rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They breathe upon the sadden’d number.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The strain still lov’d to linger o’er<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mem’ry of our happy meeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In childhood’s wild, uncultured bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When heart met heart, in tender greeting.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her form, her face, Ah what were they?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tho’ loveliest beauties there were dwelling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ringlets unrestrain’d that stray’d;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The ruby lip with nectar swelling?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tho’ these were fair, her lovelier mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each outward beauty far exceeded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By nature’s quick’ning power refined,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Soft Pity’s gentle voice it heeded.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And love, had been the tender name<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That swell’d our hearts in holiest union,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ah! too young to own the flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We felt the bosom’s soft communion.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sudden, again&mdash;the tremb’ling lyre<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its sound, to sorrow’s notes surrender’d;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lost was remember’d rapture’s fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And woe seem’d in its strings engender’d.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why changed the sound? ah why! no more<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Did rapture wake th’ inspiring measure?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why jar’d despair the accents o’er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dark’ning each scene of vanish’d pleasure?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wild shrieks the blast of heaven, round<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grave, where all her beauties wither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Yew-tree moans in solemn sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When gently stirs the ambient æther.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIV</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The cold sod wraps her lovely form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rapture to my soul imparted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She lived in beauty! but the storm<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In early morn, life’s current thwarted.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where once the laughing, mirthful eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With joy’s bright beam was wont to glisten;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When time on pinions fleet went by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we to hope’s fond tale would listen:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or when the tear-drop started there,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sympathetic gem of feeling,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o’er that face so passing fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Soft pity’s sorrowing look was stealing.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XVIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The icy worm his revel keeps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And there, his form is dully shining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arround that lovely forehead creeps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or o’er her faded cheek is twining.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XIX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bosom, once that heav’d with mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The throb of joy, or sigh of anguish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When fancied ill, or fond delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bade hope arise, or sudden languish.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XX</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sleeps silent, in the earthy grave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No woe her angel-dreams disturbing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Misfortune’s storm there cannot rave!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No passion’s power the rest perturbing.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXI</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O be thy spirit ever near!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Attend my rude course to its closing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Melvina!&mdash;still thy name is dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A thousand past delights disclosing.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou wert to me, a kindred flower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In nature’s garden, nurs’d together,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We grew, till in a stormy hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy vernal charms were doom’d to wither.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>XXIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But gladness still, shall mark the strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hope shall point to brighter pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When our torn hearts shall meet again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In hallow’d transport’s fullest measure.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ERRATA" id="ERRATA"></a><i>ERRATA.</i></h2>
+
+<p>It is with much regret, that the publisher (notwithstanding his
+endeavours to prevent it) has discovered a few instances of erroneous
+typography&mdash;those which would impair the sense are the following:&mdash;</p>
+<p>“Hours of Childhood,” page 19th, section VII, line 2d, for
+<i>Scar’d</i>, read, <i>Sear’d</i>.</p>
+
+<p>In “The Moon’s Pale Ray,” page 80th, 1st verse, 4th line, for
+<i>sea</i>, read, <i>sea’s</i>.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOURS OF CHILDHOOD AND OTHER POEMS ***</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
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+
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-23 14:24:41 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-23 14:24:41 -0800
commit	c054f2067456ad927d94de23b9ee4c72d76daf9d (patch)
tree	95fbce25c298d3bb5336222c409c794c728c9a92