IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 1^1^ 12.5 ■50 '■^™ MMBI ^ 1^ III 2.0 2.2 iim 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^1 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 V^ , signifie "A SUIVRE ", le symbols y signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmis d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est fiim6 A partir de I'engle suniirieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de heut en bas. en prenant le nombre d'imeges nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 '■ ■ ■* 8 6 4- TH ':^wm DEDICATED vo THE GENIUS OF BRITISH AMERICA, BY Ef}t 33avT< at if cU)=35tunstoittt. -..r^ •■•..»;■ ..:'A --snei.Vj ■: I i\ I, * A M 5»; -*Y ifami'i/u • /^///v/z-r/ r^ltA ^f*je THK FOREST WREATH, BY WILLIAM MARTIN LEGGETT, Eanstralr Cottage, ,Su»fiicv UaUt NEW-BRUNSWICK. Pinus ingens alboque popului Umbratn hospitalem consociare amant Ratnis, et obliquo laborat Lympha fugax trepidore rivo. — Horacs. PRINTJID BT OURANT AND SANCTON, MARKET SQUARE, SAINT JOHN, N. B. 1833. .^■■^ %. %■ ■* 5Slf W rs >. » > ■ *> .( ■' '1 TO THE rUBLXO. WhiUt olhtr Bards amid case and affluence ttrtke their d^ep-loned Lyrei for an admiring world, be 'I remembered that the Minstrel who makes this humble offering is a son of solitude, on whom the Goddess Fortune deigns nut to smile, being constantly engaged in the arduous duties of his profes- sion, with little tihne for study or correction. Irksome aa are the common vocations of a School to the Child of Nature, who would range with his sister Muses un- confined— it has ever been his hard destiny to walk in secluded life, passing those years in the improvement of others, bis youthful fancy bade him give to song ! But the magic spell is at length broken— he has arrived at that crisis when all his aspirations are broutfht before that tribunal, by whose decision the dearest hopes ofTiis bosom mu>: be either realizec', or involved in a vortex from which lb y may never recover. The FoRiST Wreath, the first-fruits of his rural Muse, IS given to a generous Public ; which (if thought worthy to be enrolled among the minstrelsies of British America) may be considered in pledge of maturer garlands to come ! The greater part of this volume was written at a very ten- der age, ere the Author's mind had been taught to expand beyond the little vale his infant Lyre first wooed, and as it is well known that secluded scenery can but inspire to secluded verse, let this with youthfuloess plead his cause, and promise future fame. Reposing full confidence then in tho characteristic libera!iiy of an enlightened People, the Author resumes his sylvan Harp, and sits him down amid the woods and wilds 'till called from thence by their approving smiles. Lanadale Cottage, > Suuex Vale, N. B. 5 t *v] I : Oil ! greet wilh a smile my rural Muse, Tlio' the wild-flow'rt of genius alone attend her, — Her brow is yet damp with the morning dews — Unknown to the world, and the world's gay splendor ? She holds in her hand the Forest Wreath, As it wears the shades of the woods and wilds, — And, blushing, asks of Fame to bequeath One laurel sprig to reward her toils ! :; TO THE FOREST WREATH. Child of my fancy, I seinl thee forth, From the gloomy wilds of the wintry north — Hope be thy pilot — her sails are unfurl'd — Go 1— launch on the smiles of a generous world ! I cannot promise thee laughing calms, The Ocean before thee is rife with storms — Toss'd on its billows by adverse winds, Wreck'd are the hopes of a thousand mindi ! We who feel all the glow of youth, Mistaking each fairy promise for truth — Semblance of Spring with her balmy bow'rs, Dtlighting to rove amid garlands of flfow'rs ! Yet, why indulge in sorrowing dreams ? Enough if to day propiltoua beams- Others have launoh'd with wilder sails- Others been wafted with prosperous gales < Child of my fancy, I give thee in pledge — Thy sisters still wait at the water*9 edge- Perchance they'll follow some future day; But my * Forest Wreath* must prepare the way ! The world will pardon thy features wild — Beauty will smile on a wilderness>child — Warm*d by that ray thou shall proudly be An off'ring of Brunswick-minstrelsy ! Then, child of my fancy, I send thee forth — The wilderness-dreams of a Son of the North — Hope be thy pilot — her sails are unfurl'd — Waving the Olive-branch to the World 1 a2 V 6 THE HARP OF BRUNSWICK. Harp of Brunswick, thou hast shimbcr'd ; Wrapt in dreams of ages, long — Thy wild Genius yet unnumberM On the records-bright of song ! 'Tis no Campbeirs touch of mildness— •Tis no Byron's bolder charm — 1 invoke thy muse of wildness ! I aspire thy chords to warm ! Had some nobler Bard wratch*il o'er thee, I should ne'er have dared to keep Nightly vigils, leaning o'er thee, — Ne'er aspired to 'wake thy sleep ; But I stand alone, in childhood, — Childish minstrelsy go forth — Whilst the Genius of the wildwood Crowns a minstrel of the north ! Sound then ! and if others find no Kindred notes thy chords among, They arc strangers — they have 'twin'd no Laurels to adorn thy song. But there arc warm hearts of feeling, Dreary tho' the prospect seems— Hearts, on whose deep fancy steahng, Thou shalt whisper kindred claims ! Sound then ! — and these echoing mountains, Hocks and streams and vales among. Starting into second being : — Chase away their gloom with bong ! « • FRAGMENT. Genius of Scotland, if one |)recio(is {^eiu Of faded glory Time returns in pledge That once look'd bright on thy regalia — bring The relic hither, that it may udura The wild tiara of the fair unl^nowu Descendent of those Scottish Chiefs, of whom Th' immortal Minstrel nang--i'or in her soul Lives all the enthusiatim her Fathers' felt When erst they li. And, tho* contending passions sweep along Th* horizon of the Mind, — like moonlight calm, Look sweet amid those clouds with all subduing charm ! Then, hail Religion ! — hail, thou hcav'n-born star 1 Unweary'd still let me pursue thy beams, Forgetful of the world, — no more at war With hopes and doubts alternate — may my dreams lie all of thee ! Bl 14 ode TO sussEt. InspirM the vision secma Wiih voice divine — methinks it speaks n)y soul, And Horror's torch no longer palely gleams O'er a disorder'd wreck with dread control — Oh no — that lovely Star with smiles pervades the whole ! There was a time — an hour of darkness late — That iirg'd me to the brink, with hurry'd breath — Startled, the mind shrunk back, fearful of Fate, And William stood aghast ; for, lo I beneath, Night's blackest darkness fiU'd the realms of death ! T'was then, Religion — then thy holy smile, All sweetly soothing o'er my spirit stole, Like distant sound of music, brcath'd the while From lips immortal — passing thro' my soul With exquisite and undefin'd control. Who, weary'd with the day's uncommon heat, Bewilder'd in pale Melancholy's waste — His tongue is parch'd — his fever'd pulses beat With toil and sorrowing — Who would not haste And bend him down, oh Hope ! thy limpid stream to taste I Come, weary Pilgrim sunk 'neath weight of years — Tis' in Religion's paths the fountain lies — Come, youth ! come, Beauty ! wipe away your tears, And drink the precious draught that never dies- It flows from Mercy's font beyond the skies ! Tell me, companions of my youthful glee, {f the lov'd hill of pastime still retains Its wonted charms — or, if beneath the tree Where once we sat, one relic now remains. To tell the BowV we rear'd with so mu<:h pains ? I ODE TO SUSSEX. 15 n secmn iks my soul, learns control — pervades llie I Inte — ry*d Ineatli— of Fate, beneath, rns of death! mile, ole, le while ' soul n heat, beat not haste pici stream of years — !S your tears, ver dies— 's ! ns. Jains ? Tell me if still those little strcamUts bear Our bark flotillas, sporting in the gale — And pigmy forts and battlements that were ArrayM in proud defiance of the sail ? — Ah I many a brow then smil'd — now cold and pale ! Yon College-bcll no longer calls us from Those sportive wars with laughing faces — Years Have chang'd the aspect of the stately Dome, And smiles that checr'd it have dissolv'd in tears — Vacant and lone the gloomy Pile appears ! Myra, dost thou retrace those slumb'ring paths. Lit by the Moon's pale beam, pensive and lone ? Say — when the low-voic'd gale at ev'ning breaths O'er those deserted hills, oh ! is there none To meet in Fancy there the Absent one ! Others there are who now in splendor move, 'Yet in their countenance what varied clouds Of sorrowing thought pervade the look of love — Perchance 'tis memory that intervenes — Like me they sigh o'er long departed scenes. Lady of Laosdale, why should we not weep Fountains of holy sorrow o'er the past? Yes, sad reflection, let thy tempests sweep O'er vvither'd roses trembling in the blast. Whilst the pale sun of life is waning fast ! There is a pleasing wildness in the thought That leads the Spirit back thro' dreams of night To those bright visions whence its childhood brought But one unsullied dream of pure delight — Oh ! in that retrospect, how swims my sight ! jShall thought of thee, mid wreck of years entomb'd, Sleep in the dreary wastC'—forgetfuhiess ? ir. ODE TO SUSSEX. ^■•t OIj no, love'd Sussex, thy sweet woodlands bloomM For me in happier years : nor are tliey less ])ear to me now, in exii'd wilderness ! irrevocable Fate, oh take eacli joy- Each wish in life, and strew them with'ring o'er Sorrow's pale shrine; — but leave the Minstrel boy The sweets of mem'ry, that his bosom-core, Bereft of Hope, may think and feel the more ! And when the last touch trembles on my Lyre, When Death's dark visions open on my view — Be this my fond request — my last desire — Oh bear me where ttiose faded roses grew, And write upon my tomb — * Sweet Vale Adieu !* WE LAUNCH UPON THE YOUTHFUL DREAM. " Lean not on Earth — t'will pierce theo to tho heart!" We launch upon the youthful dream. And fairy promise gilds to-morrow; For bright the distant prospects seem — Unsullied by one cloud of sorrow. — And loViB with all her wild control, And Friendship with her bosom-treasures, May cast a halo round the Soul Of brightest hue and brightest ple^'surcs — And wealth her golden garlands fling About our paths where'er we veinure, And Fame expand her airy wing To shield us from the World's cold censure : — But, ere our noon of manhood beam. From sad experience we must borrow — That, tho' to-day may blooming seem. Blasted may be the hopes of morrow ! Hands bloomM hey less 17 TO ELIZA. ith'ring o'er Minstrel boy m-core, 5 more 1 my Lyre, my view-— re — I grew, Ic Adieu ." JL DREAM. tho heart !" isures, res — e, :?ensure :- Tho' crowds of admirers press on thy view — Tho* Fortune and Fame prostrate at thy lihrine— Oh say, can they pledge thee a love lo true, Or offer a heart more warm than mine ! Whilst they in the arms of forgctfulncss rest ; Or drown in gay revels their perishing flame — Tis' then this bosom recalling the past, Thrills highest with feelings beyond a name ! For oft by the Moon's pale light do I rove, When the soul is let loose from the toils of the day, To meet in fond fancy the thoughts of my love. And dream the dark spell of her absence away ! Oh then, if a whispering breeze pass by, Methinkt] in that breeze (and the thought is divine,) I list again to the well-known sigh, That so oft was wont to mingle with mine ! And does my Eliza in Scotian Bow'rs E'er trace the pale lustre that Cynthia flings ? Does she love the still murmur of moonlight hours — The soothing sadness reflection brings ? For exquisitely wild are the visions of night To Bards and their Loves as they wander aloiic. Then earliest dreams of affection unite. And, soul meeting soul, sweetly liiinglo in one ! b2 -I I 18 THE CHILD OF GENIUS' GRAVE. Bury the Son of Mars Mid* the proud Artillery's roar — Let bright escutcheons adorn his tomb, With the deeds he has done in War ! Let his Battle-sword be gleaming — Let his white*plumes nod along,— And let the voice of the muffled drum Be his funereal song 1 Bury the rich in possessions In a vault of costly gear,— Spangle his coffin around with gold—- Place a thousand torches near, — He has left treasures for his burial — Let the mandate be obey'd ; — Whilst menials mourn, in sable guise. The ruin Death has made ! But bury tho Child of Genius In some lowly grove alone ; — Let his dream of ages be undisturb'd— His resting-place unknown : — But should Eliza e'er enquire His fate with seeming care,-— Oh ! point to the spot with a silent tear^ And say—** He slumbers there ! ! ! 19 THE MINSTREL— TO his horse. ]Iu/za, my brave stcctl, for the time is advancing Nature will spread thee a carpet of snow, And gaily this mane o*cr thy graceful neck dancing. Shall laugh at the wild'wlnda wherever we go ! No thought of the present or future shall ruffle us — Onward we'll dash— no compeer by thy side — The sunbeams shall flash on my own true Buce- phalus — Nought thou desirest shall e'er be deny'd ! Chnmp not the bit so indignant, as scorning Ought that would check thy young heart, my brave steed, — Art thou not free as the breath of the morning ? Dost thou save love in my countenance read ? Ah 1 who can tell what deep thoughts, o'er thee stealing. Make thee thus restless in wayward control 1 Oh I could a look so expressive of feeling. Beam from an eye that possesses no soul ! Others might deem thee as soulless and leave thee To slumber thy last sleep the rude storms beneath ; But, could a Minstrel refuse e'en to give thee His friendship in life, and his pity in death ! Come then, my friend of the wilderness, foaming — Let thy young dreams be as fanciful still. As when 1 found thee on yonder hill roaming. Laughing and grazing, or slumb'riDg at will ! ^%-. I m '^/ 90 FRAGMENT. UoaJcr art thou an unbeliever ? — Come, One hour lend the nicditntivs Muse — fiCt us approach with reverential awe I'hc holy spot where erst the mild Redeemer For wonnt of earth did sweat great drop* uf blood, And trode alone the wine-press of the wrath Of .Almighty God !— lift the veil of doubt, And, with the eye of faith, behold a scene Too big for utterance — 'tis Gethsamane ! But, stop not here — the cup is not yet full — View him, by cr^^uturcs of his love despis'd, Mock'd, buffeted, derided, crown'd with thorns, Condcmn'd to ignominious death, and dragg*d With thieves to Calvary ! — see, Ih' Incarnate God Feels all the penalty our sins incurred. Wrestling with all the Pow'rs of Death and hell— lie groans — oh what u sacrifice for Ileav'n to witness ! Mcthinks immortal groups, in deep suspense, Ci'owd round the scene — the Harps of II<.-av*ii arc mute — A tear bedims the eye of Gabriel ! — One general hush profound (as John beheld,) Reigns thro' the anxious Hosts ! — the Sun turn.H black — Day hides her faoe in night — the rocks wide yawn — ri'.c r • iding f^raves deliver up their dead — N iture, affrig'.ited with convulsive throbs Ko:ks Mountains, and Creation trembles wide ! Hark 1 the manhood, agoniz'd, exclaims " My God ! my God ! why'stthou forsaken me !!!" He drinks the bitter cup, and cries " 'tis finish'd !" And bows his head, and— dies ! ! I l^RAiiMKNT. 91 nje, of blood, rath bt, lU. 'lorns, •ffg'd 'ate Goii id /jcM— o witness .' ense, '•civ'ii are J.) u» turns yawn — 1 Oii t what a work was fliiish'd in that hour — Then white-robed Mercy triumphM over Justice, And r«beb were redecni'd I — A Man— u GOD, Yields to the sting of death that death may die !— Three days of inconceivable mysteries The man Christ Jesus sIuniberM in the tomb — Momentous days ! — Then hcav'n and earth and iicll, In anxious expectation, waited sonic Event, perchance unknown to nil save GOD ! Now let Immortal Burds take up the theme. And shout aloud the piuan of the bkies I Sound I for " lie was and is and is to come / He bursts the bands of death ! again he comcv, The Conqueror ! the Champion of Hcav'n ! The Eternal Son of God ! the Prince of Peace ! And at his Chariot-wheels he captive drugs Sin, Death, and Hell ! Shout, all ye distant worlds, Ye Sons of God swell high th'inunortul theme)' And let the furthest verge of Creation lie-echo the triumphant son^ of lleav'n !— " Lift up your heads, yc everlasting gates — *• Ye evesilafe^ing doors, be open'd wide — " And li*tthe King of Glory enter in 1" — He ^>mes, the Conq'ror — first-born of the dead ! Bow WW ye Harafrn? Hjntinela I — He comes. In garments roU'd m blood — His name ih call'd " The Word of God 1"— these, his attendants, are The ransom'd-saints he purchas'd i'rum the grave ! Shout * Allelujah' 'till the Earth repeat The loud " Amen !" « Amen !"-- 22 ANSAVER TO ENQUIRIES BY MYRA. T'was " ca/w," for the Moon cast her " mantle of light" O'er the wide spreading woodlands in peaceful repose ; And nought but the voice that companions with night, PVom her lone shady Bowersi in whispers arose ! T'was " Ao^," to Mem'ry, for pure was each thought* As my soul wing'd her flight in fond fancy to thee ; T'was ** dear" each perfume in the passing gale brought A sigh sweetly breath'd in remembrance of me ! T'was "lovely," for round me the smiling wave shone Like the " gems that in gardens of sorcery grow;" But all ihose bright stars sweetly blending in one, Look'd noJ half so brilliant, so lovely as you ! T'was " high," for my spirit had soar'd to that Throne, Where love blooms immortal, from doubts ever free ; And the incense J brought was a heart that alone For thee wing'd its flight there — was offer'd fur thee ! THE CHOLERA. Hark ! a pestiferous whirlwind is gone O'er three fourths of the earth, and it still journies on ; For the Angel of Death rides victorious to war — Desolation behind — Devestation before — He sits in his darkness and wildly his breath Flaps round his pale brow the black Banners of Death— THE CHOLERA, 2.? VIYRA. " mantle of in peaceful with night, IS arose ! L'h thought. cy to thee ; issing gale of me ! vave shone jrygrow;" in one, you ! It Throne, ever free; ' alone 'ffer'd for rnies on , mers of iff Hail; ! the vengeance of heav'n groans loud in the blast— • A (ii>d !' the pale Infidel bows to at last ! — Silent he comes in the stillness of night. And steals on the Flero, and shrouds him in white — He breathes on the warm cheek — the thoughtless and gay — The bright rose of Beauty soon moulders away — And Genius and Science, the good and the brave ; Are gather'd alike to their home in the grave ! He touches the wild Harp of Love, and its strings Hang recklessly dumb — He expands his dark wings O'er the Palace, the Cottage, the City, the Grove, And stamps his pale image " on looks that wc love !" The dark stream rolls deeply and broadly along, For the howling of ghosts is it's burden of song — The Heavens re-echo the slaughter below, The cries of despair and the wailing of woe — A stench has gone up from the dying beneath, And the charnel-vault yawns with the fullness of death ! Prepare then ye few yet unscourgM by the rod, Noi carelessly list to the call of your God — Flis judgments descend — the wide scroll is unfurl'd, «* Lamentation and mourning and woe" to the world ! The Sceptic may doubt and the worldly-one laugh, Philosophy senile. Infidelity scoff; — But the day is at hand, even now at the door — Away 1 and away ! our probation is o'er ! •*i,38e ready, ye pilgrims, to launch on the wave — ris' done !" no repentance beyond the cold grave ! ! ' ni w '& 24 TIIR CHOLERA. And nrc we prcparM for that soir ...n event, When tli!^ fuint pnlsc of hfc in it's chilhicss is spent — When the coldness of marble pale sleeps on our brow, iSnd hush'd is the heart that was beating but now ! Arc we ready to bless Him who givcth the rod And for refuge to fly to our Saviour and God ! ! ! TO AMELIA. Time has thrown its faded spell O'er the bloom of other years, And the bow'r we lov'd so well. Silent 'mid the gloom appears. Where thy hand was wont to cull Roses of the fairest hue — There the leaves of autumn fell — Theic the lonely wild-brier grew ! Not a relic of the past, 'Mid the ruins could I see : — All dismantled by the blast, Save one solitary tree. — Its pensile boughs still wave the same As when we there were wont to rove, And there I trac'd Amelia's name Carv'd in youth's first glow of love ! I saw the lonely moonbeam climb Its aged trunk with mournful ease, And heard the Harp of other time Touch'd by the whispers of the breeze ! Thrice have I visited the spot — Thrice paid the tribute of a tear, — And thrice engrav'd *' Forget me not — " Beneath Amelia's memory there ! ^m S5 vent, ss is spent — )n our hiow, ; but now ! le rod God ! ! ! m W m SHE SINGS OF LOVE, &c. She sings of love as if it were But the Bwel) of a n^omentary air, And her soft blue eye roves careless o'er The wildest touch of the Minstrel's pow'r. She has never been taught to pensive rove With a tremulous heart o'er the chords of lovc- She has never felt that bosom-thrill Of Nature, which speaks far more than skill. 6till may those lips sing careless on — To me their notes have no kindred tone ; — But dear — thrice dear is music's control. When it speaks the language of soul to soul ! TO i Brother in song — I silent stand With the Harp of the Vale in my trembling hand, For I dare not strike its proud chords 'till Tis' warm'd by its favorite Minstrel's skill ! Brother in song — shall a wilderness child Burst from the gloom with bis minstrelsy wild- Usurp the bright garland maturity now Hath placed upon thy laureate brow ? Brother in song — pale sorrow may 'twine A Cypress Wreath for this temple of mine — My song shall be of her bitterest draught, Whilst midnight adds terror to doleful thought. cl 'A SK. 26 TO ll- 'M Brother ia Bong — thou hast heard the sad talr— - The visit of Death, and the slumber pale — The rush of the soul on EterDit3''8 wave — The burial of hopes in the eold cold grave — Brother in song — hast thou ever wept 0*er the silent sod where a lov*d-one slept ? Hast thou felt all the wildness of Bosom despair, To walk from the spot, and leave him there ? Brother in song — does the wintry wind Some ghost of the past recall to thy mind ? Has each whispering blast o*er thy fancy control — Does he speak in its voice to thy bursting soul ? Brother in song — when moonbeams creep Around thee, and revery banishes sl*'ep — Hast thou c*er been aronsM from thy troubled dream, When clouds flitted past, by their dying gleam ? Brother in song — all these I have known — I mourn o'er the fate of a dear-lov'd one — The moon's pale look, and the wintry wind, Oft-xoft cast a withering spell o'er my mind ! Then, Brother in song — I silent stand With the harp of the Vale in my trembling hand ; For I dare not awake its proud chords 'till Tis' warm'd by its favorite minstrel's skill ! ifti.ai e sad talp— e — ve — pt? 1 despair, ere? I I? y control— f soul ? irep >led dream, [leam ? i^n — nd! g hand ; I ! SS7 THE COTTAGE MAID. Far in a deep sequestcr'd vale Mid' biuBhing roses and lillies pale, (Itself and its inmates alike unknown) A neat little Cottage stands alone. I pass'd it by — the Sun*8 last beam Look'd smiling back on th* Elysian dream. And the smile was lovely that dy'd away Mid the Forest's gloom with the close of day ! An Angel form in that sweetest of hours Ueclin'd amid Amaranthjne BowVs, And the holy light of her dark blue eye (auve an exquisite charm to its majesty. I paus'd with tremulous heart to hear, For her vespers thrill'd thro' the ev'uing air. And, oh ! if my soul e'er rose to the sky, T'was on the wild swell of that minstrelsy 1 Not a blush ting'd her check but the virgin glow — Not a dream but of heav'n had mark'd her brow — That ev'ry unhallowed thought would quell, And chain the list'ner with holy spell ! ! lov'd — but dare not speak my love— T'was such as we feel for the saints above : — The song was too high — and the sight, too pure, For unholy mortals to think of more. Spirit of Music, whose sacred abode Is immortal Harps near the Throne of God * If a child of this Earth may woo thee from thence, 'TIs Beauty companion'd with Innocence ! 28 THE COTTAGU MAID. I heard the last notes of her vespers close — The morning returned, and the bright Sun 'rose,- And I bade farewell to the " Cottage of Bliss," That stands in the Vale of the wilderness ! Years have roU'd on since I pass'd it by— v I've gaz*d on full many a dark blue eye — Pve listened when Beauty and Innocence play'd ;- But I ne'er can forget the Cottage Maid! THE MINSTREL'S BOON. Oh for a young warm heart that ne'er Had stray'd beyond its native sphere ! Oh for an eyo of azure bright That never shone with dubious light — Or smil'd, but in that holy smile Sweet Innocence look'd calm the while—- Or wept, but when the soul sincere Inspired the graceful falling tear ! Oh for a mind — an Angel mind, For only one on Earth design'd. Alive to ev'ry kindred tone, And I that highly favor* d one i Beautyclad. f.'la 'kf .■t."',lb» -*»*.« V£ KINGS ItA.) rhen, een, — IIATTLK OW JOSHUA. Shall i'ullow Israel to the fight and fuel A deathless animation in their souls Amid the namerouB foe ! Do jre not hcnr The busy tramp of thousands? the low voice Occasional that steals along the night, Hinting «f secret deeds ? — 'Tis Joshua's host ! IJiird on your swords and bo in readiness To ilo as Ilcav'n directs — to-morrow's sun Will witness such a day as time ne'er knew. And future ages may not see again ! liii cene imp ars > ''rs— they )es! r wrongs ; ;sts ks- I, Now all the din of War re-echoes wide Along the distant hills — the Pagan Hosts Call on their Idols, but thet/ call in vain — Tho Lord alone is GOD ! ! I — On all sides 'round. Each avenue foams high with heathen gore, An'l multitudes of fallen bite the Earth Before the tribes invincible — they fly— • Terror and consternation lend them wings — Their idle weapons strew the crimson ground, And overwhelming ruin fast pursues The routed nations !— Hark I a voice commands. Not men, but suns and moons — 'tis Joshua ! Before the armies see him Godlike stand Alone, and, with uplifted hand, pronounce With emphasis inspir'd the great behest, " Sun ! stand thou still upon Mount Gibeon ! " And thou, oh Moon I ! in th* vale of Ajalon ! ! ! *' 34 BATTLE OF JOtnt'A. i 1- t i: It . ■Each, pausing in itH courfo, Awaits the issue of so strangu a time; Whilst Israel's GOD leads Isracrs chosen band To the great shuightcr !— All along the way, Bcth-horon, Azekah, and Makkedah, Ilcnv'n from her cloudy battlements, unites With fell discharge of hailstones, and lays waste .More than the battlc-sword — the hills, the dales Are covcrM with the wounded and the dead ! And who can tell what mighty conflicts urgM This two-fold day — was it not that same time Egyptian records speak of, when the Earth, 111 retrograde commotion, stagger'd ba?k From her bright sphere in dubious suspense, As if astonish'd at the miracle. And waiting some event (in f.'mbryo,) The wide Creation never felt before ! # # * « « Now, Gibeon's wrong aveng'd, Israel returns, Chauntiiig the flymn of Victory — before. Their General walks in all the pomp of one IiispirM of Heaven I — each olive-branch bowM low, Acknowledging the Conq'ror as he passM, And Men of War, and blushing damsels came, And youths and infants with the song and dance. To hail hiui their Projector 1 The mild star or Pt'^cc again rejoic'd o*er the repose of War I ! ! ■I '.1 ■It 'J "J ourfo, >sen bantj 5 way, nitef oy« waste the daleH dead i :tB urg'J c time Hrth, k eiise. i returns, -» )ne bow'd low, J. came, d dance. War I ! I :f a"* NIGHT ADDRESSi To « LiUe planted bjr MIm S. H. dec«aH«^. Why dost thou droop so pensively Along the moonbeams pale — And seeming weep amid thy smiles, Sweet Lilac of the Vale ? Why to the whispering winds at night Thy pensile blossoms siiread, As wrapt in dreams of other time, Fair relic of the dead ? Dost thou not bathe in sunny smiles. And drink the vernal dew ? Dost thou not bloom in youthful pride, As thou wert wont to do ? T'or thou art fair and beautiful — "So blight of years has thrown. Its withering spell about thy flowVs — All desolate and lone — And *fnid thy spreading branches ting The Minstrels of the Grove, With sweetly plaintive melody — Of Friendship and of Love ! But, ah ! thou would'st a tale unfold-^ A melancholy tale — Weep on — weep on— we*ll weep with thee- Sweot Lilac of the Vale I Thy smiles no longer may delight Who taught thee first to bloom ; She rests on yonder hillock green-— ; Her still repose— the tombi < ;,; I 30 MGIIT ADDRESS. So more the blushing lovM'one comes With cv'ry cliarm array'd, In cv'ning's sacred solitude, To muse beneath thy shade ! But why this melancholy thought ? Why mourn her early doom ? Strew with the Bard in proud esteem, White roses o*er her tomb — And let the passing stranger pause With rererential fear, And ask, what Child of innocence — What Beauty slumbers here ? . Tell him she was too pure for earth — Bid him suppress his sighs — She walks in all the bloom of youth, Mid' flowVs of Paradise ! Then, why thus droop so pensively Along the moonbeams pale ? Oh ! smile once more — we*ll smile with thcc- Sweet Lilac of the Vale 1 1 1 TO A COQUETTE OF THE OLQ 8C^00L. '* Lov3 jSi*! to some congenial soul, ** And settles with a kindred mind.**— - Those lipi and their triumphs are o*er, . Since stolen their primitite t]^is$)e^r-' Altho* *t must have, been, I am sure, In some age more auspicious than this is ; — > But, oh 1 there are lips whose soft spell ^ Round the soul of the Banquettcr hovers. K .- i^H i>-:.v,"#\lfK— i.**.« • ^ Wtem a B wi fr .' *.-:'^::t;j,* omes cem. B — th~- ;h, i with thcc-- SCHOOL. TO K COQUKTTE OF THF OI.O srilOOL. 37 T'wonlil make e'en the Gods of old time, (youiti they taste the sweet fragrance, their lovers ! That eye may not kindle Love's fires Where Co(iiietry slyly reposes, Or roui^c awake am'rcyus desires In one who has languish'd on roses. IJut, oh I there arc orhs that can chain The hearts of our wildest Heroics, And " binshes triumphant" that rciijn R'en o'er Anchorites, Poets and Stoics ! And such are the orhs that I love, Wliose " smile of affection" ne'er varies ; A truant to \iours 1 may prove, But, who could prove truant to Mary's I My Mary is brilliant and young, VVhilst you the bright circles are leaving; Deception ne'er fell from her tongue, Whilst yours has grownold with deceiving ! Then give nic hut bcauty*s first love — A love that from mine ne'er \n\\ sever — And faithful to it I will prove. For ever and ever and ever ! i> is;— ers. THE bard's triumph OVER LOVE. Offspring of the Cyprean Queen, With thy bow and quiver come, M thou can'st, and make thy home, Wnere thou never yet hast been ! I \' 38 TiiR ijard's tru'mpii over love. Come in the light of Beauty's eyes ! Come, with all her magic smiles ! Know that, with her delusive wiles, Thee I despise ! Tho' other Bards have oft bewail'd, Or bless'd the eye that aim*d thy darts ! Halt ! boasted vanquisher of hearts ! Here thou hast fail'd ! How great soe*er thy triumphs be O'er other men — confounded hard — But, whilst he lives, the Forest Bard Triumph's o'er thee ! Avaunt ! thou pale faint-hearted "dove" — Foil'd by a youth of twenty-three ? Huzza ! a noble victory O'er Tyrant Love ! ! J ETERNITY. This Fragment was intended to embrace all the most memo' rable events recorded in sacred and profane history. — The Author has to regret the loss of several sheets ; which, for the present precludes all possibility of an entire Poem. It will however be revised and concluded in a subsequent work. I sing Eternity ! Wide^ boundless, and unfathomable in thought ! Ere Being, save Being's Author, was — that, wr?pt In one vast solitude, one hush profound, Yet cani/py'd the Palace of a GOD — Infinity ! — (yet, t'was not solitude — Th* Eternal purpoie had already peopled i ! Aye, mightier than ours ! — But what think ye ? The Seraph stood in majesty of truth And thus responded — These spacious Orbs which far extend along The skirts of heav'n, and partially embrace In streams of light, are worlds designed, for a New race of beings, who shall hold control w 40 ETERNITY. I III N i !i Over the multitudes of menial tribes That too inhabit them— But, here we pai"2— None but the Sov'reign Architect himself Knows more concerning them — Hither I'm come To view the Parent of this little world As peacefully he slumbertt by her »:','« Whom God hath giv*n to be his fair companion ; For I much iong to see this miracle, A being form'd of dust I But, thou hast heard Of other Monarchs than the Triune God, Jehovah ? — Impious ! When Satan fell, 'Twas said his rebel followers fell with him ; But one, accurst, yet linger'd in thyself. Since thou hast durcd to speak high^' pai«»c— » self I'm come >mpanion ; ard od, • him; K !ason 'gainst thou art ms ^el Chief) »ne, or I ion ! wide, ilst stood Id rth * •:■: S ETEnXITY. 47 Silent he stood Bpside the slumbercrs — and view'd tin* troc, The fatal ** tree of knowledge" and full soon, liy magic skill, he read its full intent, And, in the absence of their Guardian Anpcl Infus'd into their dreams th* unholy wiiih That wrought their sub&equent fail I Here rusliM The tow'ring Genius of a Milton wild — No dicmon artifice, no hellish lore, Could steal upon the purpose of * A GOD !' It was predeatin'd from the World's foundation,— The dispensations of Almighty wisdom Had circumsci'ib'd the limits, and ordain'd Each strange event as pleas'd his sov'reign will ! The Spouse of man awoke — Satan, transform'd^ Array'd i» bi'jht ensignia of the skies, Smil'd, as some friendly messenger, and thus Accosted her — Fair Empress of the Earth, That thou art passing beautiful, 'tis said, Ev'n in the highest courts — all that remains Wanting to make thee such at we are, is Th' ambrosial fruit of yon celestial tree,-^ Eat, and cv'n ye shall be as Gods, Knowing i\\e good from evil,' On his lips There dwelt such syren sweetne.ss, and his eye Beam'd with such holy love assumed ! m 48 r.rr.RMTr. — Alas : Sigli'ii Kvc, we fcifjn would do as you advise*, Rut God liatii said " Kat, and t/c surely die /" III iiioineiitary silence Satan stood, And IihU' recoil'd; but t'was n pause of tiioiigiitii ('olleclinff, — and he thus, with pride, resiunM— Yc shall not surely die ! God would not have Ye vie with hiui in wisdom ; for He knows. That when ye once have eatmi, ye shall he Kv'n like hirns!»lf in this his boasted attrihuU' ! And who shall hear the tidings to His Throne, Thro' the infinity that hangs between ? Kat, and ye shall not surely die, but live. And be as Gods forever ! Eve beguil'd, Obey'd, and from her fell the robes of innocencci Nature's attire — she knew that she had sinn'd, But from that sin what daz/ling visions rose Upon her tow'ring fancy ! — gently she rous'd Her drowsy spouse, imparting all she knew. And, in the ecstacy of mutual love, Adam became a partner of her shame ! They fell — and in full nakedness of guilt 1 — 8atan begirt himself for hasty travel, And, bounding o'er the rising of the Sun, Dash'd him adown the shadowy precipice, Down, down, down, down, till down there was no more. His dusky Heralds, from their tow'rs of mist, Had scarce proclaim'd their Chieftain's near approach I f ,\f m s! a(lvis(», //y ninocence, sinii'd, rose ous'd lew. J— ere was no ' mist, 'approatli When in the midst he stood—the Pow'rs of Darkness Kose to congratulate hi. safe return, And all was silence, savt occasional groans That stole unconscious from the dying gleam Of tortur'd spirit ; that, with anxious wish, Look'd on his sullen brow, deep'flush'd with conquest ; Pnle and dim they rang'd in hiack'ning crowds * Hound th* infernal Orator, whose look Bespoke some mighty issue near at hand ! Thus spake th' accurst— Confederates in guilt, First in Rebellion, whose fix'd deathless hate Burns in the fire of deathless spirits and Kclipses e'en the gloomy grandeur of These billowy flames around you, and leaves Hell In " darkness visible /** Your Chief has wrought His predeterinin'd purpose ! Ye all know My errand to those stranger-orbs remote— Since last we met in counsel, unmolested I walk'd the^elds of light and sojourn'd with New worlds that have been form'd of late, for beings^ That, in similitude of form, are Gods- Simple of heart and credulous of falsehood, — Fit instruments on which to wreak our vengeance, ^nd, thus pervert Heav'ns purpose : — for no doubt, They are intended to succeed our birthright And grace those thrones which once were made august By our illustrious presence 1— When at first ] gas'd in admiration on the whole Stupendous chain of luminarieSf and saw Nature light up their lamps from world to world, By my own self I it was a goodly sight ! El ! jii h ' I, 50 ETERMXy, But, there is owe call' tl Earth— tlie theatre Of all our future wars — Here have I chos'n The Battle field— here have I erected A Banner which, methinks, must needs withstand The complicated prowess of the skies ! Two artless beings, so form'd as to enjoy Such pure refinement of mutual love As we ne'er knew, susceptible of joys That we ne'er dreamt of, I found sleeping there; (For such is call'd & sweet repose, on them At times bestow'd) — a smiling Eden round. And, in the midst, the " Tree of Knowledge" blooms ; The fruit of which, delicious to the sight. By God's behest was to remain untiBuch'd, Lest eating, they should some new way devise To sin acainst his will ! — He lov'd them well — And I to grieve and draw his judgements down On their devoted heads did tempt them sore, With such deep-studied artifice withal. Behold ! the simpletons did eat, and thus Fell from their first estate of innocence To disobedience — their reward will be Sin, Death and Misery ! — Thus have I perform'd Ad emprise worthy of the Prince of Hell ! One hellish laugh loud mingling with dire groans, The sulph'rous caverns echo'd with the din Of closing ranks on ranks ; whilst spectral features, Blacken'd with one dense cloud of lire and smoke, Ghastly and pale withal, grinn'd acclamation. ^P W* n* fl* ^^ n^ "■ W iIF tV W^ tP iv T~ l? '00lti ^-tm » Mf '- jiajfeaiMcx*' -'^ii'iSM eatre >os'n 51 FRAGMENT. withstand i'lg there; iincJ, ge" blooms j 'cl. Jevise ^. well — ts down sore, IS lerformM '; 1! u groans, in 1 features. \ nd smoke. . ~] ion. rt *- *• * *r *>§ To thee, oh Egypt ! in my soul's deep thought, Have I full oft retir'd, and, musing o'er The ruins of Antiquity, with awe, Touch'd the lone Harp of Ages to thy praise ! Oft view'd in fancy, thy tall Pyramids — Perchance where erst the sons of science stood To read the starry mysteries of heav'n. Wrapt in prophetic dreams ; or men of art, With hieroglyphic devices, half-engrav'd IVie tales of other time : and I have walk'd Amid thy subterraneous catacombs. And view'd the relics of past grandeur — forms That walk'd the earth three thousand years ago, Tiiat f nil'd and wept as we now do — and died/ How wonderful that Labyrinth, whose womb Contains twelve palaces, three thousand vaults. Too intricate to name; or grottos wrought By art and nature ; excavations deep — The stone retaining Cleopatra's name, And sculptures that adorn the world around Grand Cairo ; the Corinthian Pillar which Commemorates Great Pompey, ancient walls. The Spiiynx, and all the wonders of that land Which mock description. Proudly I the song Of udihirallon dedicate to thee, .1-1* fti U Hii f. I I" 52 FRAOAIENT. And, with thy hoary Genius unconfin'U, Hallow each fragment of thy former fame ! The Mediterranean spreads her stormy barriers To guard thy northern coast — thy Eastern shore Flings back the foam-wreaths of that fatal sea Where Pharoah's Hosts (in days of yore) did yield To the strange warfare of the man of God — Dark on thy Western borders, Deserts wild. Wrapt in impenetrable gloom, keep watch— Whilst to the South, the Abyssinian chain Rears its dark front as envious of thy fame ! Whether we trace the beauties of that vale. In whose soft bosom the majestic Nile Unfolds its limpid waves, as heralds from The lofty mountains of the moon ; or deem We navigate those boundless seas of sand. Pausing anon amid their flowVy Isles, To drink the fragrance of the Oases — Perambulate the Plaintam walk, or sit In Bow'rs Pomegranate, *neath the Olive shade ; Or pluck the ancient fig-tr»e, and retrace The monument which Alexander left To tell his mad ambition ; or, where once Isis and Anubis conspicuous stood Among the seulptur'd idols — still, with thee The soul-contemplative delights to range Back to the ages of antiquity ! How wild to muse by thy transparent Lakes, (Menzala, Kela, Berelos,) and hear • >5 \ |me I y barriers em bhore tal sea |re} did yielU Jod— wild, tch— lain ime! t vale, m eem )d. TRAUMENT. ':•"? OO 'e shade ; e :e hee iakcs, I Thciu nionrii tiif. fate of Marcotis their sister-r List to the distant hum of busy towns, Ilosetta, Damietta, and reflect On days of other time ! But hark ! methinks I hear the wild cry of the prowling Tiger, The blood-snuif of Hyaenas ; whilst, around Th-> n-acefu! Antelope with timid stag Hit iiick coverts ! Here the Camel stalks Hetjicos along — there th' Ichneumon steals Amid the rocks with fearful glance ; afar. The Dtemon of the wave, in lizai'd shape. Shakes his dark scales, and opes his pond'rous jaws In hungry mood, with threat'ning attitude 1 Here the Camelion quaffs aerial food. And mocks description with alternate hues — Above, the princely Eagle hovers round On golden pinions ; whilst, beneath him mourns The lonely Pelican ; or Ibis preys On serpent food — along the silent shore. The stately Ostrich walks with giant strength. Beneath his feet the horn'd Cerastes squirms (The aspic that of old time kiss'd to death The warm devoted bosom of the Queen, Matchless in beauty, but in virtue frail,) And bites the dust in agony of death ! Thee, Chief of Alexandria ! I view Ancient of Cities, Pillar of the West, ^ / Phoenix of Tyre and Carthage — where the world Once held her Grand Emporium— India's wealth e2 il. 54 IRiiGMUNT. Distributed to Eurc|>a and to Asia— Thy watch-fire brightly burns on Pharos Isle The magnet of the seas — thy Bagnios, Mosques^ Triumphant Arches, and Majestic Domes, Lift up their tow'ring Pillars to the skies And smile in Sov*reign grandeur ! but how faU'o ! Yet Cairo, (modern Capital,) with all Thy hundred thousanJs, cities old and new, Castle of Saladin, Mosaic Domes, Hemnants of Patriarchal Palaces, Ruins of ancient Memphis, and strange arts, Thou hast but a poor name comparM with hers I And thou, the scite of old Pelusium, And Seyd, the remnan; of Egyptian Thebes, Hide your diminish'd heads ! Suez, Cossire, All pay obeisance to the memory Of Alexandria ; though her present name Is dwindled down to humble Ssandaroon / I sing the ancient Egypt as she stood When Greece was school'd there ; ere blind Sa* racens (Mistaken zeal) threw down her Libraries— ffer Libraries magnijicentf and gave Her manuscripts to the devouring flame — When the proud race of Pharaoh fill'd her Throne, Uninterrupted in a long descent, Until the ambitious Crown of Persia wav'd Her sword of victory there (unvanquish*d yet By Macedonia) and triumphantly Gave Law to Egypt ! j^ut Darius met H I W^j^lff^^i' iviii. FRA6MENT. K sisic ilosques. es. low fall'a I lew, arts, 1 hers I Jbes, sire, blind Sa- r Throne, The Band invincible, and fought, and fell From that proud eminence ! The Godlike Son Of Fhilip reigns over the wide domain— 'Tis Alexander, not Cambjfset, now ! Sudden are the transif:ons plann'd by fate — The conq'ror leaves his conquests to the world. To share with Jupiter Amnion in the skies Of Heathen fable. Ptolemy succeeds — Restores th' Egyptian monarchy again To primitive independence ; from him sprang Those Kings who reign'd almost three hundred years. And handed down the sceptre now adorn*d With laurels won in Si/ria to the wife Of Ptolemy Dyonisius, Cleopatra, (Mistress of Julius Cssar and Mark Anthony,) Who liv'd to see the Roman Eagles wave In triumph o'er her wall — then d»red to die J Thus Egypt now became a Roman Province, Until the Caliph of Mahomed mounts The Throne. Omar too re:gn'd and pass'd away-— Noureddin, Saladin (he fain'd in fight Against the bold crusaders,)— long their descent Held regal sway ; till the brave Mamelukes Made noble stand against the Turkish arms And rescu'd Egypt from their tyranny ! She might hav^e flourishV, u not Selim rose In bloody conflict, and with numerous Hosts Bore down all opposition. Turkish * moons' '•!i i 1'RA(;mknt. Aij'ain victorious wave there — her Regalia, Again transferr'd to Ottoman ambition ! Then the marauders of Zinganeus left Their native land, and, scattering wide along Europe and Asia, from them sprang those strange Mysterious wand'rers known as Gypsies now. # • # # « # « Long shall the name of All Bey be known, Th* adventurer, who now ascends the Throne Of th' ancient Sultans — Palestine and Syria liare witness of his prowess. Sheik Daher, Th' Arabian Prince, warmly espous'd his cause, The Asiatic Government resist Ills growing pow'r in vain, and Ali Bey Egypt restores from anarchy and bondage. But treachery in ambush 'waits the conq'ror — Mahomet Bey Ahudahab (whose name Lives but in detestation) now usurps Ilis ladrcls, and, with diabolic warfare, Establishes his poid*r ; but retribution Hangs o'er his midnight couch — in Palestine He pays the forfeit of his cruelties ! Murad and Ibraham next 'rose upon ' The ruin of their predecessors ; yet, Domestic jealousies soon intervene. And thfy too pass away ! In quick succession . Th' Invincible of Corsica* with all His mighty legions march'd with giant stride * Buonaparte. • ' 1 m (■V ^•*' m •'f MAGMBNT. 87 ong strange now. n, rone Tia ler, caiise. j'ror — Thro* the vast Delta. Cairo trembling yields. And Gallia's Hosts pitch their victorious camp In Egypt's bosom. But Britannia's tars ^ Led by immortal Keith ; her gallant troops By Abercrombie, (who with his heart's blood scal'd His fame near Alexandria) soon expell'd The French Invaders : yet British generosity Could not restore to peace the hostile feuds (The Turks and Mamelukes) — intestine broils Spread devastation wide, and blood and slaughter Are ordinary scenes in Egypt still ! Thine Ancestry, but little less than gods — Methinks their ghosts, oft leaning from the Kkies Look riown on their degenerate race — and frown Disdain upon their abject slavery ! me ion ADDRESS TO THE SUSSEX VALE TEMPEAANXE SOCIETY. feation heard th' Om'iipotent command. Light burst forth refulgent, from the dark Abyss of Night, in peaceful dreams of Heav'n — Spread her celestial drapery o'er tire skies. And brilliant orbs, and twinkling stars, and worlds On worlds throughout the wide infinity, Join'd in glad Nature's morning sacrifice. Whilst " all the Sons of God shouted for joy !" 58 ADDRESS. hii '. M^> y Thus God infua'tl in man n portion of His own divinity — " this is that light Which lii,'hteth ev'ry man," — that lifts the v«U From ev'ry eye, disclosing partial views Of that proud eminence of the human race — Knoivledge of right and wrong ! — Then, say my muse, Wilt thou not lend the Harp of Lansdale to The ilighieous Cause, the Philanthropic Band, And weave amid thy garlands, one bright wreath For Temperance? — Make invincible appeal Hume to the souls of those who careless look. Upon its unfurl'd Banners, which (inscrib'd " Peace and good vvill tow'rd men") seeming invite Milienium visions t' an expectant world ? . Conscience } thou secret monitor of souls ! Whose Throne, within the precincts of the heart. Is based on deep reflection — lend thine aid-^ Avert the wrongs which Prejudice prepares— New-model Fashion, and from pole to pole Hold thou thy Courts of Truth, unbiass'd by Unruly Passion and Temptation pale I Join with the March of Intellect, and ere Nations, in uproar, seek Reform of Kings, Each man reform himself — the watchword be • Exawph'^ and submit the rest to GOD ! ! I Go on, ye chosen few — you have begun ^ A March — a noble March I — Sound high the Trump I Recruits await you in each dangerous pass. And budding laurels, from the towering height Ye would attain, already bloom to deck Your brows with victory ! — Your motto be " The renovation of a ftdlcn World ! ! ! ,^- :i^*;S3:: iWiiii lot the v«U race — say my muse, ale to )ic Band, ;ht wreath peal SB look, rib'a ;ming invite )? . souls ! the heart, aid- ares — }ole Mby rd be )i I I ■^ • • • the Trump ! ss. beight be 59 THE GENIUS OF THE WILDWOOD— TO LOVT* Gently, sweet Love, on my rapturM sight , Stenl like a vision of heavenly birth — Flash o'er my dreams as a r/iy <>/ H^/if, Seme Ajigcl hath sent to a C/iild of Earl h ! Come In the stillness of musings deep, Guided by truth to a Minstrel's heart ; Teach ms \n fulness of feeling to weep, But teach me to weep without the smart I Lead me thy Captive to Fairy Isles, Where Fancy oft wafts the Lover's sighs ;— Crown my wild Harp with a Wreath of SniileHf Warm from the splendor of Beaut^^'s eyes ! And, should my young heart, in that flood of light| Strike thee too daring a swell of joy — Forgive the presumption of wild delight — The unstudy'd song of a Shepherd Boy ! I'll rear thee an Altar in every thought, And Hope shall light up its incense to fl(tme; No perfume but that from sincerity brought, }1 be offer'd— no pray'r but a Poet's claim I n Then,';gently, sweet Love, on my rnptur'd sight, Steal like a vision of heavenly birth ;— Flash o'er my dreams as a ray of light Some Angel hath sent to a Child of Earth ! GO MEMORY* w 1 do not know what sjfirit of the past ttreathes on the present such soul-melting melody And makes us love i\\e joys forever gone More than the jo^« which arc ;-— but that unknown Brings such a melancholy pleasure with her Of shrouded loves and cofiin'd friendships* I Would not exchange her for a thousand worlds I— For it is sweet to interchange our tears With shades of the depatted and give back A pale memento to our absent loves — To walk amid forgetfulness and hold Communion with the days of other years—' To muse beside the graves of early smiles And shake hands with the hoary Genius, Memory ! Oh 1 I h^ve tasted the immortal joys 0/'JFfo/)for fail me as I pass its shadowy mists lo my immortal walk anong the stars ! ! ! line. :#' net w'rs) fmine TO AN INFANT PLAYING ROUND ITS MO- THER'S CRAVE. Smile not — smile not, unconscious Babe ; But warm with a holy tear This cheerless sod — for. know, sweet Babe, Thy mother slumbers here ! Tread lightly then, sweet Orphan Babe, For o'er the hillock creep ; Fl G2 TO A.V INI ANT. Btit linger by its hor«lern, lovr, Lest thou (listurl) her sleep • — Nor cull those flow'rs, my pretty U.iIip, — Lone sentinels of the dead — But leave them with the winds nt night To sigh o'er thy nnother's head ! INSCRIBED TO MYHA. (Air— Oh no, we nevor mention har — ) Oh no, we ne'er may meet again, As once we fondly met — They say we speak with coolness now. And part without regret-- And yet the look of other yecrs Full oft uninnrk'd I pixjve — The pensive smile — the silent tcar^— Still hints of former love ! They say another warms my breast — I sj)urn the thought from tlienre — And view the young, the beautiful, With cold indifference — Forgotten loves, — forgotten vows,— . Still linger round my heart ; — And, tho' we sever'd are fore'er, Still there — still there thou art ! I've watch'd thee in " the festive Hall," Where the Wit and Splendor move— I've seen the rose fade from thy check, Whil&t others sung of love— i ;l.t H TO MYRA. And once 1 taught thy wand'rir.g eye, The last — last ti'iic we met — Mcthought our souls rtproach'J ua both, That wc ihould e'er forget ! And who can tell but yet once more 'J'he veil may be reinovM, And we may meet H(;ain, and love, As once wc Ihotight we hd'd ; ]iut,ah! perhaps our (hilJiah hearts No real friendship bore ; — They dreamt of the dclu:5ivc joy, * And woke to dnam no mow! Oh no — we never meet again, All ouce wc fondly met — Our words cxprcbs but toulncf>& now — Our parting no regret — AntI I, with reckless hand, imprint 'I'his bonnet for tliu Orovt — Tib' but the dream rf other tjean — Tis' not thv dream oj love! 63 PARODY. (Air— The Woodpecker > I kritw as our Jinnncrs majestic unfurlVl 'J hat Mars, with his thunders a|>prouching, was near ; And I said, if there's fame " to be found in the world," The sword of Britannia shall purchase it here. ■'■f li ' I if C4 PARODY. T'was Morn, and the jy^ide-spreadlng Cottages 'round, Were slumb'ring, for nature reposM 'mid her charms — « Ev'ry leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound," But the far-distant clank of the Warrior's arms ! T'was not long ere the roar of Artillery came, Red bursting along thro' the tanks of the brave, And our Brethrfin, rememb'ring their Ancestor's fame, Soon wav'd their proud laurels o'ur Tyranny's grave. By the side of yon wild-flow'r that blushingly dips In the blood of the valiant a Warrior* nods — The 07iset of Battle has dy'd from his lips — His proud Spirit rush'd to the realms of the Gods J We mourn the departed in glorj/, but deeds. Such as these, must be purchas'd with Oceans of blood — And, tho,' in the conflict, the Veteran bleeds, We hallow each spot where his prowess once stood ! Then, whilst we re-echo our Wellington's name, To the ghosts of the dead this wild-paean we swell And engrav Encircle 'd in our bosoms, one general fame ■emembrance of all ! the pio usr< Duke of Brunswick. nmn ,1, ig Cottages 'cl 'mid her ot a sound," •rior's arras ! ry came, inks of the Ancestor's r Tyranny's : blushingly r* nods — ips — mlms of iks :jeds, ith Oceans bleeds, vvess once I's name, d-paean we al fame i « 65 ON THE WINDS. The Slimmer spell is gone — But the rude Genius of the Winds hath past O'er the wild JIarp of Winter— Hark ! each blafct Conveys a deeper tone Hail ! hoary-hcaded Minstrel of the North ! I love io watch thee as thou vcnturest forth In low, low murmurs, that at distance come Like unseen spirits stealing thro' the midnight gloom — Pausing anon — the tombs among — As if it vvoo'd the grave with dying — dying sony ! Then, starting from thy resting place, (the grave,) O'er surge and surf thy hurried Muse runs mud With the rude ruthing roar of wind ?.'.)d wave — Till' spent thy rage — now heavy ^ lune^ and iad ! And there is deathly grandeur in thy song, Wrapt in the mysteries of some passing cloud, When forked light'nings play the chords among And Earth shakes with convulsions — long and loud !— Or, when th' Autumnal blast llolls the mountain-side along. And the howl of injur'd ghosts Aids the song ' Genius of the windt., i^ing on i — thy cali—r Thy luUabij shall rock the hills to sleep — And thou shalt thy wild revels keep O'er the ruins of us all ! ! ! x2 66 AIR. Why those melancholy tears — Weeping all the while, lassie ? Here's a health to happier years — Light it with a smile, lassie ! Where's a love so true as mine — True alone to thee, lassie ! Where's a heart so warm as thine ? — Give it all to me, lassie ! Tho' to other lands I go, O'er the distant main, lassie ; Why so melancholy now ? — We may meet again, lassie ! Here's a Lochet never felt Falsehood's with'ring breath, lassie !• We«r it in thy Highland belt, And keep it safe till death, 'lassie ! Time may throw her faded spell O'er our youthful bloom, lassie ; But can souls that love so well Ever find a tomb, lassie ! Why then spoil to day with tears — Weeping all the while, lassie ? Here's a health to happier years — Light it with a smile, lassie ! FRAGMENT. Hail ! Star of Bethlehem ! Well might the Eastern Sages bring their " gifts," " Gold, frankincense, and m.i'rrh," to hail the infant ;*?"*«r3iN FltAGMBNT. 07 e!~ ifts," 2 mi'ant Prophet, Priest and King ! ! — Mysterious Babe — i lion of the tribe of Judah— Rock of Ages— The bright, the Morning Star !— the fount that op'U In th' house of David, for each thirsty soul To drink and live ! — The Lord, our Righteousness — Angcl of the everlasting Covenant — Conducting Israel to the promis'd Land — That was to bruise the Serpent's head and triumph O'er Death and Hell ! t' unfold the golden gates Of Heav'n! — We hail thee our triumphant Lord ! I Then flaming seraphs march'd across the skies. Tuning immortal Lyres to songs of light — ''Peace and good will tow'rd men !" Archangels smil'd On this new world, the birthplace of a GOD ! ! What tho' the pow'rs of Hell with Herod leagu'd In vain conspiracy — what tho* in heav*P, Yes, " there was war indeed" — the ancient cloud That veii'd the Jewish Altars was remov'd, And a Messiah's presence (fore-ordain'd) Proclaim'd deliv'rance to a captive world ! And oh ! that man — pow, poor unhappy man, The object of thy mission, should conspire With devils against man's deliv'rcr ! but ( )ffcnccs needs must be to consummate Th' Eternal purpose — " Father forgive them, fur They know not what they do !" Yon wilderness^ (Where principalities and powers of darkness Arose in majesty of light assum'd, I'hat erst hud i>hukcn the fust Adaiu and 11 iii' t)B FRAGMENT. " Broughc death into the world nnd all our woe !" Yon wilderness, the buttle-field, where now The chief of fallen Angels came, array'd In all the artifice Hell could devise, To tempt the second Adam of our race, (Our high-exalted race, belov'd of Heav'n,) Bears witness of the mighty conquest !-^There The subtle enemy of man was taught The great alliance between God and Man — The sov' reign ty of Jesus, — and, confus'd Shrunk trembling back to the deep, dark abyss Of his eternal night: whilst, from on high. Celestial bands, lejoicing, hover'd round The Captain of their Hosts — then soar'd away, Heralds of the glad tidings, far beyond Stars, systems, — up t' the Paradise ©f God ! Oh, thou physician of the soul ! whose days On Earth were one undeviating scene Of Love and Mercy, whose supreme behest Call'd back e'n Death to life — life t' immortality — *• Teach me to die" that I in death may live with thee ! LOVE AND BEAUTY. Whether with Fame thou dwell'st, or walk'st the lonely Grove, Hail, Love supreme ! — hail ! matchless, bound< less love ! But, oh ! thrice hail when from thy friry isles. Thou com'tit in Beauty'.s all rcsistlesi; smiles ! m ■aasii • I rlMTiaHif LCVE AND BEAUTY. GO |r woe !" >w rhere For who a Boadicea could behold With eye indifferent and with heart as eold ? Who, in the sphere of such bright smiles, could move. And feel not all the Sov'reignty of Love ? Did not the mighty Alexander own All due allegiance to Satyra's throne — Lay by his laurels for her smiles and prove. The great ^t Heroes yield to Sovereign Love ! Did not Mark Anthony forsake the field And to the bliss of Love's soft luxury yield — Sheath the bright swcrd of conquest for her charmsji And sigh away his fame in Cleopatra's arms ! And did not Hannibal forgetful prove Of all his Hosts for Sophonisba's love ? Careless c^ glory, he was not asham'd To weep whene'er his Sophonisba blam'd ! In Roane's proud Legions, or the Grecian Eand, Egypt's renown, or Sparta's warlike land — Princes and Potentates where'er we rove Yield to the peerless Majesty of Love I Then, hail I thou Love supreme ! — hail ! matchless Love, Whether with Fame thou dweli'st, or in the rural grove — But, oli ! thrice hail, when from thy fairy Isles, Thou com'st attired in Beauty's alUresistlcsji smiles*! A i ; 4 li !'V 7^ OH GIVE .*E A StCTCHMAN FOREVER, An Englishman's I eart once purchased \a true^ *TvviJl never forsake you — no, ne^er ! But, if I'm forbid to share bosoms vith two, Oh give mc; a Scotchman forever, -—forever — Ob give me a Scotchman forever. The Hibernian is warm when truth iij?hts the flame, That warmth from his breast ne*er will sever: But, tho' dear to my soul is an Irishman's name. Oh give me a Scotchman forever, &c. The Frenchman will twine with his compliments round Our hearts with such easy endeavour, But, tho' gay in his bright repartees he is found. Oh give me a Scotchman forever, &c. Yet it is not that Scotchmen the precedence claim, The others are noble and clever ; But, buch an old tie there lives in that name. Oh give me a Scotchman forever, &c. They are true to their Country, and true to their King, They ne'er did forget him — no never, And their fame of old time be my muse as I sing Oh give me a Scotchman forever, — forever — 01) give me a Scotchman forever. .fau RBVEH, 71 Fragment, H truCy :wo. s the flame, sever : 's name. 5mpliments found, ^ce claJm, me, »e to their I sing Speak not above thy breath, lest Echo hear thccj The tclI-tale nymph will run and blab it out To ev'ry stream that gossips thro' the vale, Ay, write it on the trees for sprites to read And tell it back again in dreams to Anna (That self-created ^Tilgira of our fortunes.) Speak not above thy breath ; but, soft, I hue ther, And I would barter ev'ry other hope In life to please thee ! — Beauteous as thou art, And young and innocent, doKc think, my love. That others' charms can rival thine ? Oh, no I Not whilst the light of song delights to dwell In calm blue eyes or mingle with their lustre. Not whilst each sWeet perfection is thine own — Lips 'twere no stoop for Angels e'en to kiss — Kinglets whose wild luxuriance floats adown A bosom spotless as *tis beautiful ; A symmetry of form that mocks the Graces, A voice, (oh, how shall I describe that voice !) That pauses in wild melody to hear The vvoods repeat the strain, in love with self, So exquisite each tone ! And, art thou mine. Thou fairest of Earth's fair ? Forbear the answer — 'Twould wake those roses from their peaceful slumber. Too holy to be disturb'd — I'll read thy soul Reflected in each look of love thou steal'st Half unobserv'd, — and, if some bold intruder n FRAGMENT. I i \m ! ht.) Break on our walk of contcmplntion, thou Wilt start affrighted from that fairy dream, And rush into my arms for sweet protection ; i'hen, should'st thou weep, I'll wipe the tears away, And swear by each to love thee ! But, yon Moon Retires behind the Western hills — she smiles * Good night* upon our vows. The stars look dim With watching, and the night-dews fall around Our midnight bow'r — The mists are growing damp, And they may steal away thy bloom of health — I will not stay thee longer — Hie to thy rest ; But in thy dreams, Myra, remember me ! " Good night ! good night 1 good night ! with such sweet sorrow, " That I could say 'good night' till 'tis to-morrow !' TO MYRA. When from yon Hall of mental toil The laughing groups were starting, Well pleas'd to hear the ev'ning bell, As't chim'd the hour of parting. If, whilst I whisper'd the *good night,* My childish warpith e'er mov'd thee 5 I gaz'd upon thy calm blue eye. And, oh ! sincerely lov'd thee ! And when the look of riper years In silence Was revealing, All that the timid blush of youth Was from my heart concealing; u n, ioi) ; tears away, on Moou lilcs look dim round ing damp, ;alth— !St; ight ! with 1 HAOMRNT. What tho' impatiently the boy C>ft vcntur'd to reprove thee, One smile repaid whole days of core ; He bless'd that smile, and lov'd thee ! E'n now when others say his dreams Are far beyond ihe wildwood, He meets thee in fond fancy still, In visions bright of childhood. Then heed them not, tho' falsehood frown, And envious fate r^rovcs thee ; For know, whatever storms may blight Our hopes — by Heav'n he loves thee ! 73 )-morrow !' t; AIR. And are we then no longer what We were in other years ? And has the last pale look of love Forever set m tears ? Then broken be the wild control. But buried be each vow, Deep in the tlroughts of either soul, Forever dark as now ! Yet hath remembrance left no shade Of earthly fault behind : We cannot look upon the past And dream of aught unkind. And tho' some fancied spirit breathes A coldness on that name, The world shall ever call us friends, But never more the same. Gl 'I , 74 A IK. fcjlioulil wc e'er meet by hill or dale, Where once we guily rov'tl; Let not a hint of other years Tell we have ever lov'd. Cast net one " ling'ring look" behind, The wound too deeply lies ; Let that which lives in cither mind Be all our sacrifice. This be the tomb o^ fancied love ; But come not weeping here — No mourner shall bedew its wrong With a mischievous tear ! Oh ! let it be an Exile's grave, All comfortless and lone ; When such lies reckless at our feet. Its name should be unknown. The light fades from the Minstrel's Harp- The dream of youth is past — His sails are spread on Fortune's wave, Obedient to the blast. The broken vows of other years, No future song shall tell ; Suffice to say ive are no morcj What we have been — farewell ! I I' 11 FRAGMENT. I saw the greybeard. Time, go hobbling o'er The rubbish of a thousand ruin'd Empires, On his lone pilgrimage — and, as he past, Each footstep scallop'd out another grave ! m PRAGMUNT. 75 Jle biu.sh'J whole armies sidcwny with his wanil, (As AC would brush moscjuetocs) and their Kings — Dear nie, they were but insects in his way, Siiuirining like gnats do in old Ocean's jaws, When scus run mountain-high I 'I lie breath'd r.jion the wat'ry clement And shook it to ils very basis so. Tl)€ sunken islands started IVom their trance And rose upon the surface of the wave, To steal a peep at him ! The JMountains rock'J Until their dizzy heads grew sick and faint — 'Twas an emetick on their gorged stomachs, And so they vomited whole streams of lava Upon th' afiiightcd plains I — lif' atroue the heav'ns And shook ih* electric fluid from the clouds — t Ay, woke the thunders from their summer dream. Until the very poles (juak'd : — then he laugh'd, And shook his with'red plume amid the storm — And lovers vows and Poet's Harp hung mute Over some breathless corse ! — 1 saw a Host Of widow'd smiles and orphan loveliness And childless phrenzy that stood weeping round The pale imprint of Time's unsparing hand ! Ami, " tho' sometimes, each dreary pause be- tween," Il»3 suiil'd a promise ; t'was but to deceive The credulous — t'was but the erring smile Tliut leaves us conifoi, 'ess iu the same hour ! w^ »^»1 7(J FRAGMENT. I saw him walk upon the verge uf t'leinent.1, Aiul pause upon tlie brink, eternity — Then, with n giant howl, he plung'ii aUown The gloomy vnouum, and left the Bard Wrapt in prophetic dreams raid' ruin'd Worlds ! ! } SONNET ON THE NUFflALS OF (Air — Life let ut Cherith.) Oh let us cherish Dreams that long have past us by-— Friendship may perish, But love can never die ! Tho' to another I resign — Tho' Stranger-lips areprestto thine— Their sweet perfume, In love's first bloom, And warmth of youth were mine, love- Then, oh, let us cherish, &c. Can'st thou forget, love, Moonlight hours ot other years ; When smiling, we met, love. And parted bath'd in tears — When 1 with lover's ardor prest. And thou would'st grant the fond request^ When smiles and sighs — A sacrifice — Meet for the gods was mine, love ! Then, oh, let us cherish, &c. »ts, Ids ! ! } '•''i I «<>NM;r. rtfrchanci' llioii art bound lovo To ;i heart as warm as ruinc — I too have found, love, Lips as sweet as thine ! Then let us part as friends shouKI tlo, One hist embrace, and then Adieu— You to your coy Ohl man — and I To her that's truly mine love — lUit, oil, let us cherish Dreams that long have past us by — Friendship may perish ; But love can never die ! ! ! ►'■■* •1 i i 1 ■■1', WHAT IS THOUGHT ? When this World's varied scenes Cease i* intrude upon us, and the hour Of Midnight aids the meditative muse, — yiiut out from man — how awful ! — how sublime ! To converse hold within, and ask the mind's Deep nii/stert/ ! What is Thought ? — That near allied To formless infinite — that undefin'd IMiilosophy of souls — th* immortal part Which raises us to that proud eminence go very like to gods I To think— to be Eternal I — to launch far beyond the depth Of chaos, or to walk among the stars. And tempt the passage- dread from world to world, 02 Hi m w t 78 WHAT IS THOUGHT. Until \vc reach the very Neav'n of heav'ns And bow before the everlasting Throne^ Where sits the Sovereign of Eternitrf / Then, what is thought ? — or human, or divine ? Or man, or god ? — or neither ? — part of each ? But devils think, and thus consummate hell With sad reality of thoughts unutterable ! Tis' here — 'tis there — 'tis everywhere / — A pow'r, That leads us thro' immensity — But now, 1 scaled the chrystal walls of heav'n — anon, Look'd into Milton's " darkness visible," ^ . '.d, lo ! I'm here again ! — Then, what is thought ? Not omnipresent ; for it cannot be Present alike in all 1 — But, why aspire To questions that perchance an Angel mind Could not devolve — Suffice to say that thought. Mocks its own-self to comprehend at all I ! ! AIR, Tell rae fair Orb so enchanting the Night, Where does my Julia keep holy thy lir^ht ? Sacred to Bards and their loves is the hour — Where then, oh ! where is her whispering Bow'r ? Voices of echoing woodlands she loves — Calm be the light that hengs over your groves ! Fragrant the dew-drops your roses distil ! Peaceful the dream of each murmuring rill I AIK. 79 Gales, as yc pass where her mem'ry retires, 13car her the sighs of that Harp she admires ! Tell her its Minstrel is wand'ring alone — Tell her our thoughts sweetly mingle in one ! Cottage of bliss, by the wave of repose. Where the wild-flow'r of the wilderness grows- When shall i visit your peaceful domain, Iluppy, thrice happy with Julia again ! '4 SONG. Here's to the sons of old Ocean, Tho' absent from us, and afar — And silent-contempt be his portion That wo'nt quaff the health of a tar ! Each child of misfortune's his friend- He's ready to give or to lend — His bosom beats high with the lover's de- votion — 'Tig faithful in pledge to the end ! Here's to each true-hearted Briton, That e'er fac'd undaunted the storm ; For the name of a Sailor was written The first on the page of Reform ! Let them wander the wide world thro'— They still keep the compass in view, Which points to that charter where Freedom is written By William—iXni, King of /r«t blue / FRAGMENT. B' On the lone shore tlie Minstrel musing sat, PIciis'cl with the song of Nature, for she tiin'd llcr *' Harp of Ages" to the Moonlight hour ! The voice of waves — the distant dash of oars — The minstrelsy of groves, and all the sweet Variety of these together join'd hjwcU'd in the whispering b leze ! — Oh t'was an hour Pregnant with pleasing and instructive thought — Of " imagery from the realms of bliss," An hour of silent awe ! — Bright Hosts of Stars And planetary worlds look'd smiling down Upon old Night, and crown'd her pensive brow With wreaths of mildest lustre — farther still, Systems unknown parade the milky-way, Leaving one flood of i^randeur in their train Along th' immensity ; — whilst, in the North, Ghosts of our Fathers, robed in deathly grandeur, Walk'd thro' the heav'ns — (for thus the Indian Bards Lean'd o'er their Lyres amid the wilderness And, wrapt in dreams of ages, wildly sung.) Oh ! could I boast a Milton's sacred touch T' awake the chords of Paradise, I'd give The live-long night with joy to themes divine ! But, ah ! abash'd with reverential awe, My youthful muse recedes ; nor dares to 'tempt The boundless flight : qUq on glad pinions bhc i! FRAGMENT. Should soar beyond the flaming comets* bounds And bow her at the Sov'reign Throne of God ! Friends of ray youth, to you I dedicate The midnight song — in retrospect of years Fond memory seeks a wiidness of repose Of sweetly soothing sadness — 'tis the boon Of Minstrels, Fate herself cannot deny ! 81 '■% i Uut, ah ? what means that damp sepulchral look ? That winding-sheet about thy wither'd form So wildly thrown ? — and what the long-drawn page Of broken-loves and smiles dissolv'd in tears, Thou boldest in thy hand? — Where hast thou been Thou pale unbury'd Spirit of the past That thou thus com'st at midnight to my soul In troubled fancy? — Bringest thou reproach In these deep hollow murmurs of the wind ? Why point so mournfully to yonder hill, As if the names that sleep there were forgotten ? Say — are they not at rest ? — if not, who are / The summer-sun smiles full as sweetly there — And tho' the wintry blast howls round their heads. They slumber on — still heedless of its voice ! " If dreams infest the grave," what visions bright Must soothe away the gloom that shadow's Death's Deep mysteries from man — and, if ikose dreams Inspired are by Guardian Angels, Oh 1 Who would not for such visions bless the grave ! I .;^ i HI PRlOltlKNT. Farewell, pale Speetre ! — but thy kind reproof Shall be preservM inviolate — I know Full well what tl:ou would'st here communicate — Farewell ! but do not fail to call again i Ah me ! here comes my friend Othario, — His countenance loo is wan ; as if the past Had hold communion with his Spirit likewise — Perchance it has — what news ^ what news, Othario? " (I'n read yon tomb-stone — that will t.l' '-hce all! ! /'» This is tiie spot ! peace to this blushing rose, Sacred to th i repose of innocence ! Who slumbers here? — Amelia? — Oh, how late,— How very late, I saw her smile, and thought It" there was loveliness on earth — fivas there ! Is this the consummation of thy hopes ? Is this thy promis'd Bride, Othario ? * Death stood before the Altar, and prefcrr^ d * His claim-— beneath this sod, their bridal bed T — '1i THE MINSTREL S EXCUSE FOR HIS SILENCE. Keproach me not with absence, love Oh I be the fault forgiven — Wliat heart would not be overaw'd So near its native heaven ? Others with thoughtless homage kneel And speak the wild confession i But souls of sensibility May never fmd expression I '•^> To speak — to comprehend — yet nothing see And nothing feel ! — How wonderful ! how vast ! A magic *nidy yet so replete with wisdom, Lets loose the thougkts, and calls them into being, — Here—and then gone forever ! — still retain'd In that strange storehouse of the .90?//— man's me- vwty — And conjur'd up again at will ! Hi 86 WHAT IS T TO SPEAK. Our voice, — what is it ? — whither hns it sped, With all the namclesii multitude of things. Which it has told afore'ime to the world ? — If the recording angel htis been with them, What witness of the past then have they borne ? And must we recognize that catalogue At the great day of retribution ?— Oh ! How shall we blush to meet the self-accusers ! To speak is then a dangerous thing to man, If not with caution ; — for one hour may write More on the deep-dt/'d page of Time, than a Long — long eternity can e'er blot out ! AIR. Adieu, adi^u, adieu love, — the night is waning fast — The hollow winds blow from the hills — the sky is overcast — And clouds of storm are gathering round the vvest in dark array ; Yet, ere the morning dawn, love, I must be far away ! Adieu, adieu, adieu, love — beautiful as thou art — How blissful 'tis to meet, love, how exquisite to part ! Then never let the tears that so profusely fall to- day Darken the smiles of rporrow, love, when I am far awav ! '../ i^ ¥ Id. 87 HOW CALM, &c. J low calm when the toils o( the day arc done, On dreams of eternity musing, To watch the pale beams of the sinking Sun, On the clear blue billow reposing— And to think that thus shall the Spirit depart, Unmov'd by the last gloomy warning, To set 'mid the clouds of the night of the grave Ere it r'se to preside o'er the morning ! Yon Sun, dimm'd with age, soon forgetting to rise. The stars and the planets shall sever; — IJut, more happy — more beauteous — more glo- rious shall dawn That Spirit forever and ever ! ! ! LINES, IVrttti'H the nigfil preceding the AiUhoi'*s departure fiom Lansdida Cottage, (Sussex Vale, J in 1830. Far in the depths of Lansdalc's Forests wide. The lov'd retreat of Echo's plaintive voice; — Where whispering wave tall eln>8 on evVy side — There stands the Cottage of the Lady's choice ! Along its front, ail spangled o'er with dew, A smiling vale in rich perspective lies, And shniing Hocks and herds ilolight the view, jicposing calm 'iicath ttummcr'b blushing bkics — I, 88 LINES, Those flagrant pastures beauteous streamlets lave^ "Whilst snow-white lambkins sweetly graze around ; Or, laughing, stoop to kiss the limpid wave, Or, pleas'd, stand list'ning to its bubbling sound. Around the Cottage-walla wild flow'rets bloom, Mid clust'ring roses, beautiful and fair — In pleasing contrast with th* surrounding gloom ; Met/links the Muses tvalk hi gmndeur there J Thy mountains, Lansdale, whether in vernal pride Their soft luxuriant foliage smiles ; or, when I'h' Autumnal bias* spreads desolation wide. And scatter'd leaves bestrew the silent glen ; — Or, crown'd with hoary wreaths, they seem to stand Laughing amid- the storm ; whilst from their gloom Of tvitk*rcd garlands march the rude winds a)id Touch the wild Harp of Winter o'er their tomb — llclics of ages past, thou'rt to my soul. More dear than bright parteeres of other lands — The mnsic of those iv'mds have deep control Forbid'n the proudest swell 'f Italia's Bands ! Ev'n the Night-Bird as she muffled sits Embowered amid the turrets of yon tow'r,* \ * A pine of coL^i . iitature. I.1NT.5. h^ llVt', Ami Kpelli its hhades with disii' ms— or flits Along the glade witli luirry'cl cr) ii .ow'r To chain the mind in deep suspense — expressive of the hour ! And, oh ! thrice dear thou spot, sacred to truth, Where I, in happier years, was wont t* retire, In all the warm simplicity of youth, — When all my pride centr'd in this desire To sit beneath thy shade, and woo my infant lyre ! Sweet BowV, (where in the holy calm of ev'n) My thoughts have often aoar'd from theo to heav'n ! Thou lov'd retirement of ray youthful years, Alike the solace of my smiles and tears — A long adieu ! — perhaps the last t'will be, My throbbing heart shall ever give to thee ! When from thy shades the soul of music breathes— When pensive moonbeams climb these rosy wreaths — When dew-drops slumber on each sacred flow'r— Ani? Beauty smiles on thee, Elysian Bow'r — Re:. h, In moonlight pale reposing : — Thus may I close my eyes beneath The mists that cloud the couch of death, And smile vher. life is closing-— That when the morn-celestial dawns. And Heav*n and Earth are blending-* My soul shall soar abpve this earth To visions of immortal birth — On its bright beams ascending ! s. 93 THE MINSTREL BOY. * Be hush'd ye sounds of mirth — sleep songs of joy, Whilst 1 rehearse the hapless minstrel boy I A mother's voice once soothM his soul to rest, And fond caresses warm'd his youthful breast ; But, ah I how chang'd I — cold strangers greet him now, Whilst care and sorrow frown upon his brow ] Roving in foreign lands, where not a smile Tells the dear memory of his own green isle. Oft have I mark' i him in that silent hour, When midnight winds howl and the dark skies to w'r, All sad and pensive sit him down beneath Some old dismantled tree and wish for death ! He sought a friend — but long he sought in vain ; False hearts deceived him, and he wept again ; Until the fair Amelia's worth he knew — She saw and pitied — and she lov'd him too ! 3he was an Angel ! but the hand of woe Had blanch'd the roses from her youthful brow — Still was she lovely — from her dark blue eye Devotion's soul in solemn majesty Expressive beam'd ! Her parents slept beneath the church-yard gloom— Their spiiits found one heav'n — their mortal part one tomb ! ' What pitying Angel could refuse the tear, To see the fair Amelia leaning here ■! 04 TUB MINSTRKL HUY. AM frlcnilleM and heart-broken— wild with lear*— . The live-long night in countless sighs and tears ! One eve, whtn all was still, save the tall trees, That whisper'd tales of woe to ev'ry breeze, Amelia sought the well known path and wept (Vcr the pale forms which there unheeding slept — And, ns she strew'd along the sacred spot, Amid the moonbeam wreaths, all cold and pale — Watcr'd with tears the flow'r " Forget me not,** A plaintive voice came wafting in the giilc — She paus'd to listen, and she wish'd to know Its author, for it was the sung of woe ! SONG. Hard is the fate of him who roves forlorn. The sport of winds — bereft of ev'ry joy ; The gay may taste the gladness of the morn — Tears are the banquet of the Minstrel Boy. V^ainly the pale moon smiles upon the scene. And distant voices chaunt their songs of joy; The thoughts of other days still intervene, Still cloud w\th woe the lonely Minstrel Boy. Ah ! who can tell the anguish of his soul, Or, who can count the fears his breast annoy ; Each countenance he meets is strange, and cold Each smile that greets the hapless Minstrel Boy. Amelia sigh'd, aud pity'd the unknown, — Shu sigh'd that other's woes were like her own. Mow from a wild path, dark with o'ergrown grass, A lone intruder slowly sought the place — , Think where our Fathers' stood — Their Banners lloaiing in the breeze, Deep dy'd with Jlerucs' blood — Then if ihou hast a kindred soul, Come, Highland iussie, conic. And, sigliing o'er their memorv. Make this warm heart thy home ! Lassie of the Highland robe, < ; Methinks 1 hear the call — ;■ 100 SONG. Their bugles sounding o'er the hills Thro' ;nany a ruin'd Hall — But, ah ! remembrance soon returns Amiil the royless gloom- Then, lassie of the Highland robe, Muke this fond heart thy home ! Las&iu of the Highlund robe, A tiecp scqiiestcr'd grove, A humble cottage, uud a heart Made happy by thy love — These are the only gifts I bring With the wild rose's bloom — But, Lassie of the Highland robe, Come ! make that heart thy home ? ORLANDO. Mors ultima linea rerum est.— (Hor.) Wild was the clash of chivalry That echo from the heath, And loud was the din of the battle cry Of vict'ry and of death ! Until the waning voice of war Dy'd on the whispering winds afar ! And there Orlando's lov'd one came, And with bursting bosom found him, For he lay on the gory couch of fame, With his battle-flag wrapt round him- All void and drear the maiden stood. And wildly gaz'd on the field of blood ! I / ORI.AM)0. 101 Tho. morning siniTJ, and u sable tlave Tu wurnis uf the uurtii allied him ; — lie klumber's in h soldier'* gruve, With his Harriet pale beside him ; n But their mutual ghostH thro' the heov'nH rove^ lai itarry paths of blias and love I \ r -. i.:. i HOW SINKS THE HEART. i ■ How sinks the heart — vhat sorrow intervenes, When the palu sun ot life grows ilim with age ! Oh Mirth ! oh Splendor ! can thy juyoutt kceneb. The trembling soul with wonieil pow'r cbsiiiigc, Or still those inward war^s which doubt and honor woge i^ Ah uo ! in vain wc court thy ilcclini; smiles — Toss'd on the stormy billows of the mind, Too late we find that thy scducive wiles — But light to darkness — and thy votaries blind, Grope down the vault of death to hungry worms consign'd ! Hail Solitude ! with thee would I recline ' '' At ev'nlng hour in some stqueslcr'd grove, Whilst slumbers mild, inspir'd with dreams divine, By guardian Angels, teach my soul to rove Thro* starry paths of bliss and worlds of endless love ! • ' " '■■■-•■ ■ ••"•; ■■--■: i2 102 I WHAT IS DEATH? What is Death — thai it should steal unseen The soul away, and leare the man bereft Of nil his boasted pow'rs — so cold and pale 2 Say, thou that lov'st to revel on the sighs Of parting friends — to prey upon the rose Of innocence — to break the young warm heart — To lop the warrior — to seal the lips Of eloquence — to rifle age — and blot Us out of poor existence, one by one — Insatiate, tho* of Earth's best oiT'rings, thou Art hourly glutted — what art thou, oh Death ? Coin'st thou with touch etherial to our senses, Sealing our eyelids down with thy pale spell, Sudden and sure as fore-ordain*d of God ? Or dost thou aim where chance directs the blow, In revelry of dark voluptuousness, T' appease the hollow murmurs of the grave ? Where dost thou dwell oh Death ? — where is thy hiding place ? Unseen, yet felt, and known ! — Hast thou a form ? If so, how terrible that form must be ! Art thou a thing of time ; or, had'st thou being Before time was ? — did'st thou receive thy mission When Satan fell — art thou a portion of Th* Almighty vengeance which pursued that fall ^ Down to th' impenetrable depths of hell ? Qr, art thou but the struggling of the soul, WHAT IS DEATH. 103 That, flying, leaves a vacuum behind — Leaves a mere effigy of man— inanimate ! Oh tliat roy reason may not flag when I Feel thy cold touch — that I may find thee out. And learn the mystery : — yet thou shalt be But momentary victor I know that I Boast part of the divinity, and shall mount Triumphant o*er thee. Monster of the grave ! Shall live in immortality when thou Art swallow'd up forever I I I TO DARKNESS. (A Fragment.) Darkness ! what art thou? — Parent of Horror, who Wrapt up in thine own self did'st brooding sit On the deep gulf of chaos, and *mid shades Impenetrable, dream Time into Being ! Thrice awful thou, Antient of gloomy night ? When o'er the wide ex|.anse thy couch was spread, And all things slept within its curtain'd womb, Lock'd up in thy strange mysteries : — for Light Had not yet cross'd Che boundaries and walk'd Thy wilderness domain ! — nor suns, nor stars, Nor systems yet were known ;— but one vast void Floated along those regions, and no ray Prophetic told of worlds on worlds to be ! 104 TO DARKNESS. But, tho' whate'er eternity thou'dst known. Thou haiit a Ituler — the Almighty spake — And the omnipotent command awoke Thee from thy sleep of ages — thou did'st start, Gath'ring thy coil of Night about thee, and, Affrighted, left the birthplace of Creation ! Yet still, at stated periods thou niay'st come, Ex- Monarch of the wide-abyss, and view Thy former Empire : — but, soon driven back To thy dark hiding-place, by that same " God '* Of this new world — at whose sight all the stars *' Hide their diminish'd heads 1" — Ev'n as the Sun Of Righteousness dispels the clouds of doubt From spiritual skies, with light ineffable I In days of yore (as sacred legends tell) Thou cam*»t in all thy baleful horrors clad And wav'd thy sceptre o'er th' Egyptian Land, Deeming that thou should'st reign again where er&l Thou sat'st in panolpy of darkness crown'd ! But man — mere man, with outstrctch'd arm ad* vanc'd — And, wrapt up in a cloud of thine own terrors, Thou did'st retire before the lov'd of God ! Demon of horror ! tho' I hate thy name, — I pity thee, when thou dost steal along The world with fearful step, as if thou had'8t No resting-place — But ah ! the time shall be, Again thou wilt eclipse yon Orb of Day, And spread thy sable wings, and brood again TO DARKMESS. 103 0*er ruinM worlds !~What mighty changes then Shall usher in a dispenBation new, 1 wist not;— but, methinks, this spirit will Yet mount above thy ruins, and look down.. And see no place in wide infinity For thee to rest on — *till thou*rt blotted out Of all existence, and not e*en a place Be found to give thee burial ! TO A YOUNG LADY. When thy gay companions speak, The name that once was dear to thee ; 8ay, doth it tinge thy Angel cheek. With one spotless blush for me ? Say, doth it tinge thy Angel cheek. With one spotless blush for me ? When in our youthful haunts you rove, StrewM with gifts of choicest roses. And the hallowM sigh of love, On thoughts of other years reposes ; Years, when I rang'd those groves with thee. Then, oh then ! remeaiber me ! When the world's gay voice is mute, Sunk to rest with day's decline ; When a happirr Minstrel's flute. Thrills with the song that once was mine : Think, in that suppliant minstrelsy, 'Tis once-lov'd William calls on thee 1 106 TO A YOUNG LADY. When the fragrant dew-drop falls To kiss the mead where violets sleep ; And around thy cottage walls. Pensive moonbeams palely creep — Oh ! should'st thou consecrate one tear to me, Then — then, sweet girl, my soul shall be with thee ! AMELIA SLUMBERS HERE. Lift up thine head thou peerless flow'r, Smile thro* that pensive heav'n-born tear; For thou hast chob'u a holy spot — Amelia slumbers here ! *Smile, lovely sentinel of death, While )'et to smile is thine ; For soon shall Winter's icy breath Too triumph o'er thy pale decline ! Then, who shall o'er this lonely grave The tributary vigil keep ; Or who, with mingled thought, shall here Delight to smile or love to weep I SPRING. Hail ! blushing Nymph l—all Nature breathes The gladness of thy reign ! C/onie with thy fragrant rosy wreaths, To deck the vale again. SPRtvd. Come with thy wbisppring tale* of lofe-' The sweet — the hallow'd theme ! And wake the songsters of the Grove, From their long wint'ry dream » For tempests dark and wild have long Pass'd o'er thy once-gay bow'rs, And Birds of Night alone have sung Away the moonlight hours : But now the woodlands shall rejoice. And Heaven her smiles renew ; Whilst Echo bids* with cheerful voice The wintry storms adieu ! ht> SMILES OF LOVE. Tenerorum lusor amorum. — (Ovid.) Where are Virtue's charms array'tl Dwells ihe alone in courts above ? I oft have seen the bashful maid, Blushing in the smiles of love. Doth Hope enjoy her flittirtg dance, Wild as the flaming comets rove ? I oft have caught her magic glance, Sparkling in the smiles of love ! Doth Joy the paths of Earth contemn—^ In brighter spheres delight to move? Oh no ! I've found the preciouR gem. Dazzling mid the smiles of love. 108 THE INDIAN CHIER There was a thrill of sympathy That made our souls as one, When the warrior bent his iron knee T* embrace his fallen son. Not a sound of grief escaped his breast, Not a tear his sorrows told ; But silence more than woVds cxpres't The anguish of his soul. lie rose, and with a feverish eye Survey'd the setting sun ; The noise of battle had died away, And the chieftain stood alone. Then claspM to his dying breast the boy- Pale — pale the warrior lay ; With the ghosts of their fathers now they rove Bevond the Star of Day. A SIMILE. MORNING. Now from the Eastern gates morning draws nigh I Blushing in loveliness the Goddess comes I She waves her sunbeam-tresses thro* the sky, And night abash'd, low bends to earth and swoons, Whilst Splendor laughing rides o'er fainting stars and moons 1 A SMitE. 109 Thus, youth advances, rob*d in cheerfuh;'^ss, Strewing ten thousand smiles around her paths ; ller dreams are all of hope, of love, and bliss. Her laughing temples deck'd with rosy wreaths, And wrinkled care looks pale whereVx the Goddess breathes ! NOON. In noonday grandeur, lo ! enthroned on high. Yon Star looks down with parching ray upon The fainting vale — afar, an anijry sky Approaching, soon shall veil the glorious one, And thou shalt hide thy face mid clouds of storm oh Sun ! Thus manhood, consummate in worldly lore, Perchance in wealth and fame, with love elate — Beams for awhile — but tempests passing o'er His troubled mind — wrapt in the clouds of fate, Now Horror fills the throne where Triumph sat of late ! EVENING. Lo I from the verge of yonder western sky. The sinking sun looks back with pensive gaze ; Vet, as with sorrowing smile he bids " good-bye," A holy grandeur lights those dying rays — Is it not Hope that beams so sweetly in his face ? Thus may the Pilgrim, tott'ring on the verge Of life, look back and smiling bid farewell 1 'Tis Hope^assures his spirit shall immerge From dreams of darkness and Death's icy spell — Riding triumphant o'er the shades of death and hcl! ! ! ! no A COMPARISON. A maiden of some iiOeen summer's bloom LivM in a Tale remote from war*8 alarms ; She oft would weep e*en o'er a stranger's tomb — And blushing Pity look'd amid her charms, Too tender e*er to stray from a fond parent's arms ! Consumption came with pale but hectic glow, And Death soon ravag'd o'er the beauteous spoil- Did fear, did trembling mark the hour ?— oh no — She bode adieu to earth—ling'ring awhile — Then wing'd her way to hcav'n with sweet and holy smiJe ! What PowV sustains us in that dreadful houf. When the dark spirit of the grave ascends, To seal our eyelids with gigantic pow'r ? Oh ! is it earth's magnificence that lends Such blest immortal visions to departing friends ? 1 heard of one fearless of danger — fatne And yoMth and beauty flush'd upon his brow— Ten thousand hung with raptures oe'r his name. And bow'd the knee in admiration low ; For he had rode triumphant o*er his ccuntry's foe t EIat« with worldly fame and worldly love, Dreams of futurity the Hero scom'd— His only wish, the passing hours t' improve In mirth and revelry !— Alas ! he ipum'd The inward voice that oft his sins and follies warn'd I Ill A COMPARISON. He lay the victim of th« bed of death, His pale lip qniv'ring with convulsions dire, And oft he shrunk aghast, with hurried breath, Fearful of an offended Saviour's ire, And wildly talli'd of hell and bell's eternal fire ! Ah ! what avails him now, his steel nerv'd arm ? Mark with what agonies his heart-strings burst ! (Unlike that maiden, who serene and calm, Look'd up to Heav'n.) Hope leaves bim in dis- gust. And the last frown of life speaks him in death accurst 1 POTOWSKI. " Vila nihil aliud quam ad morl«m iter e/it ! " O'er thy pale corse warrior now, Mildly bea.ns the evening star — Yet, upon thy wrinkled brow, Darkly sits the frown of war ! Beside thy blood-stain'd tomahawk, Rest, warrior, on the silent plain ; But thy Spirit's mountain-walk Is with ghosts of thousands thou hast slain ! No friend of his youth shall o'er him weep, No stone shall tell his sleeping name, !Nu battle-sound disturbs his sleep — He rests on the gory couch of fame ! 112 SONG. (air to BhUCU'jl AUDROS.) PHtriuts of a fallen land ! Forward conie with sword in hand ! Make your last victorious stand. And burst the bands of slavery ! Countless numbers shall oppose, Mighty squadrons round you close ; But, what are Poland's tyrant foes, To Poland's native chivalry ! See your Standard proudly waves O'er ten thousand gory graves — No longer shall your sons be slaves- Onward inarch to liberty ! Sound my lyre, the llero'ti meed, Tyrants fall and Tyrants bleed — Sound victorious Poland freed ! Sound the swell of victoiy ! CEASE MY LYRE. Cease my Lyre, oh ! cease from waking Visions that with years are past ; For, alas I my heart-strings, breaking, Yield unto the bitter blast ! Who shall strike — thy warmth renewing — These lov'd chords when I am gone ! Wilt thou thrill with song subduing, Breath'd by some inspired one ? CRA§E MY l.YRC. 113 iDr, wilt thoii, all lone, Toriakcn, Like the youth neglected be ? Cease then, cease ! — no longer waken Prcums that long have fled from me TO THE LADY OF LANSDALE. When with the wild-beating wares of the OceHU Far o'er this wide world 1 friendlessly roam, Kotisc not the warmth of a Parent's devotion ! Speak not the name of the wand'rer from home I IBhould some gay voice, from the woodlands at even, Recall to thy fancy his once happy song, Let not a tear to his mem'ry be given ! Lei not one pang to the thought belong ! Others there arc, who, with fond embraces, Shall lean on thy bosom with filial delight — Others there are, who, with happier faces, Shall cheer the lov'dCuttage with music at night ! But could a heart that is dooin'd still to languish— Doom'd to such sorrows as mine hath been — Oh could it smile 'mid the tears of its anguish. Or add to the joys of the peaceful scene ! I go to companion with cold*hcarted strangers. Far from the scenes of my childhood to dwell-^ I court the dark shades of misfortune and dangers-^ Lov'd of the mountainSj I bid thee for«well ! k2 Iff NIGHT ADDRESS. Why lookcst thou, sweet moon, so cold and pnlu Upon th' autumnal leaves, that strew the vale All dark and gloomy — it* our thoughts agree, Weep, sweet moon, and [ will weep with thee ! Let thy pale beams too visit Myra's grave, Where the tall trees all stript of beauty wavu Their evening si;'hs— tor 'lis divine to rove, And weep ninid the tombs of those we love. Not long ago we fondly stray'd along This very path, and Myra'i choicest song Was given to thy smiles ; but, oh ! sweet moon ! How little did wc deem to part so soon ! Here now she lies — the maid of every worth- Careless of the voice of sorrow and of mirth — All pale and cold — oh, if our thoughts nc^rrp, Weep OH;, sweet moon, and I will wrep with thee I ASK NOT, &c. Tant'JDi inter densas umbrosa cacumina fngos /ssidu^' veniebat ; ibi haec incondita solus Montibus es( sylvis studio jacktabat inani. — Virgil. Ask not the Harp, that neglected and lone All silent hangs on the willow tree, Tp remember the warmth of its youthful tone. Or breathe o'er the notes of its youthful glee. ADIEU. 115 To the winds of night shall it only brcathu The song that long hath silent lain ; For the winds of night shall it only wrcutlic Its wither'd garlands o'er agoin. Ask not the heart that all sorrowing lies, To pledge with its wonted tenderness ; Or smile mid the gloom of its tears and sighs, From the night of its own dark wiklerncss. Oil, no—let it sleep in the dreary waste, Where the tempest of thought forgets to rave ; Till the last throb of love from its dream is past, And it loys down fore'er in the cheerless grave \ ADIEU. How door to the soul the last moments of parting, — Each blissful remembrance of youth we renew. Whilst the hallowed tear of afTcction is starting, AbJ lips that we love wildly murmur adieu ! Each heart fondly beating. Still ling'ring, repeating Their mutual love in each tender adieu ! The' Atrk are the fears that o'ershadow the lover, Tho' the sunshine of Fortune recede from his view ; -%» light summer clouds all those fears shall pass over, When lips ifiat we love sweetly whisper adieu ! Each heart fondly beating. Still ling'ring, repeating Thtir mutual love in each tender adieu ! J 16 THE SUN Hah look d back. The Sun had look'J back with his last ray of splen- dopr, As bidding ^ good-night* to the slumbering wave, And the Moon (vrith but one twinlding star to attencj her,) A sweet look of sorrow all pensively gave. And, oh ! 'twas an hour of exquisite sadness^ For on the lone beach stood young Henry with her, Who fir!>t taught his bosom the language of gladness ^ Alas ! he must leave her for countries afar ! * Adieu, my Louisa I' he cry'd, o*er yon ocean, That sleeps in forgietfulness calmly the whil*, Wheq borne on the wings of the wild winds* com- motion, Ah I who shall the sorroiys of Henry beguile ! ' IJe spake, and the blush of sincerity, stealing From cheeks unprofan'd by pale falsehood, rcply'd While mutual souls to their God were appealing. And Beauty stood weepjng with Truth by her side ! (I The morning returnM — but Louisa no longer Might pleasingly Ust to the dash of the wave ; The billows rose high and the tempest blew stronger, Her Henry was wrapt iq 9 vatery grave ! 117 ADDRESS — TO THE APOSTATE CHIEF. Oh tliou that rul'st O'er that dread place unknown, surrounded by Unhappy " principalities and pow'rs," Thron'd on a cloud of darkness, and engulph'd In that deep dark abyss — eternal night ! \yhose sole delight is sin and death and hell And whose rebellious spirit cannot brook To sue for mercy, tho' an eternity Of wild dispair spreads out its black'ning flames To fold thee in their ruin — What art thou Oil Satan, and from what exalted height Hast fallen that in chains of darkness kept. Thou yet must keep thy being? — Thou who wast Son of the morning, and in robes of light Stood near th' Eternal's Throne — a mighty Prince Fearing no fall I — tell me, what impious wish Deluded thee — what would'st thou, more than heav'n — And highest in that heav'n, save one alone ? i What tempter taught thee ruin, ere thyself EngenderM sin, and gave the monster birth ? For theae was none before thee in disgrace — Yet, if sin is, it must have had creation— Hence must have had an Author ! — but, thou wast " A Liar from the beginning" — and to thee Wc trace back all our woes ! [ iti I 1 18 ADDRESS. H&bl did'stth i think To serzo the Sceptre of the universe And reign without compeer ? — vain thought in- deed ! Worthy the Chief of devils ! for with all Thy boasted strength, thou hast no pow'r but that Giv'n thee of God ! And why wage war with roan — yet sneaking come Hheiter'd within thine own deformity, }nvisible,^f ye have thrones and pow'rs Why come not in thine own true shape, that man Arm'd by his faith may meet thee face to face And strive for th* mastery ? — But in Angel's guise, Lurking about each avenue of thought. Thou com^st, in dastard warfare with the mind, Instilling where thou can'st thy poisonous wiles ! Boasft not the overthrow of Adam's race As if thy subtle arguments had wrought Their purpose— for from that same fall man rose To that high eminence, to which thy pride Aspii'd— and tve — e'vn we shall be as Gods — Whilst thou, condemn'd to drag thy serpent coil And bite the dust in envy, art fore'er Exil'd from all that's happy, good and great ! Hold then, Apostate ! to thy den of darkness Hie in dispair, until thy stubborn soul Be taught obedience !~We defy thy pow'r ! ! I 'I- I WSITTEN IN THE GROVES OF LANSDAti? Bury me in this calm retreat And give me a weeping willow To shade the spot where a Minstrel sleep:? For ay on his cold, cold pillow ! And when iEolus his vespers breathes — When Spring her balm diffuses, Strew his lone grave with her rosy wreaths, And whisper his name ta the Muses ! Tell them his pale heart once was warm — Bring them his Harp of sadness, And, tho' its chords be all unstrung. Tell them it once knew gladness ! Ask them if they remember that name, And note the answer they make thee — Leave it beside me, until from thence The morn of Eternity wake me ! Oh then will the Muse of heavenly song Lend me a Harp Immortal, And my spirit shall rise with her kindred shade;} To enter the golden portal I LINES On hearing distant Music at Night.' In the holy calm of even. Wrapt in gloomy dreams of death, If aught on earth be like to heaven, 'Tis Music's hallow'd breath I 130 LINES. 1 'I Oh ! it is wildly soothing then, To gaze on starry worlds above, And fancy in those brighter realms Wc trace the shades of those we love. Methinks a dear departed friend Breathes with celestial minstrelsy, And at this solemn hour would lend Her moonlight smiles to beam on me ! Come — come thou to my willing soul, And lead me to those blissful spheres ; Let the sweet smiles of Jesus soothe INly griefs, and hush my sinful fears ! Oh, comfe ! — I burn to join the throng, — I burn to clasp the gift divine, — I haste to sing the happy song * My Jesus is forever mine !' NATIONAL ANTHEM. On the accession of William IV. to the Throne of England. Now let Britannia's shore The lofty paean pour. Proud ofF'rings bring; — Hasten bright Muse of fame With patriotic flame. To chaunt great William's name, And hail him King ! ANTHFM, Sound too our infant Kind, Join the paternal I)and — Strike up as otic ; Wlule (Juardian Angels sinf, Alliiou'd illustrious Kin^;, And, on ioimortal wing, Crowd round the Throne ! Oh may ihy gracious arm Long shield thy sons from tiarn--, Long happy reign ; Should the hoarse trump impel> May brilliant conquests tell Kritons invincihle, And VVilliain's fame ! 1*21 I MATRIMONIAL rOLITESSK. " Vn malhcur no vicnt jamaii »cul." ' My dear,' said the rib of a Gentleman, * why Will you sully your delicate breath thus — try stars ! Just going to rest too — oh, Lord ! I shall die With the sm^.l of those plaguy cigars I" * My love' said the intrepid husband, (quite grufr,\ * I'm smoking to kill the perfumes of your snuff ! Ll 122 ASPECT OF THE TIMES. *' How swift ia a glance of ihe mind." A general war ! A general war I Who says nay ! to a general war ? Tliere*s England and France On a Dutchified dance, And Knssia, and Prussia, and Austria perchance. With Belgium and Holland, all looking askance For a general war ! For/^a general war ! The land of Freedom's boasted sons From cities and forests are issuing forth, With fifes and drums, and swords and guns, Brandishing fire-brands South and North ! E'en the Indians, they say, Are whetting their knives, To kill and to slay Some thousands of lives \ The Islands of rum^ and the Islands of tea. Gunpowder, hyson, souchong and bohea. Are all in a hubbub, much blood has been spili'd, And nobody knows but they all will be killed. In China^ *tis said they have open'd canals Of torrents of blood from mortality's rills, £*en the children sail boats there in holiday sportn, For the schools of Confucius are tum'd into forts ; And the old walls, succeeded by heaps of dry bones. Have a warlike appearance much better than stones ! ASPECT OF TUB TIME9. 1S3 The land of Mahomet is Bounding afar — Its brilhant seraglios are batteries of war — Their gates are all turn'd into port-holes ami swivels, And lovers to madmen, and madmen to devils- Sultans and Pachas and Gipsies and Turks, Scimitars, sabres, and pistols and dirks, * From Mecca to Egypt are thickly array'd. Amid new fashionM pyramids built o( the dead. Oi?e us pause — oh ! oh I — There's Miguel and Pedro and Donna Maria, Heels over head amid torrents of fire, They siri/ce — for aught I know, and, Cannibul-like, Eat ail the dead carcases up that they itrike — The red coats, amaz'd at the Amateur-hell, Oft si«;h for * roast beef in a London hotel, Aiid the French, in a surfeit, look back o'er the ee And dreum of home joys, iiucb ab frog-f(icat»ee ! < M f At Antwerp tl|ey say The ol I devil's to play, Lc Chasse and Gerard's Quarrell'd over their cards, And exchang'd a few bombs in the duelling way ! « And there's Montreal was condemn'd for her sins To drink the brave blood of her own citizens — They appeal'd ; but I believe the Atlantic as yet Pring-j nothing but ink— (vide Neiison's Gazette. J 124 ASPFCT OK THt TISIKS. La Royaunie des Bovirbons ('tis liglit to forewara her,) Is playing a game of ' puss, puss, in a corner,' Louia Philip playy cards and his minister's pranks. Whilst the Dutclxeas sits dumb behind chimneys ami franks. And Mexico kindling her own funeral pyre, Tears up her charter to light up her hre, The man from the Moon has gone up the Missouries, And teacher them war thro' (yaniera Obscuras. Nova Scotia the bride of Prince Edwards ;— or rather Reverse the positions of one with the other, (For the nuptials will all our grammarians perplex If the high priest forgets the distinction of tex.) Nova Scotia they say is about to be wed, But that I shan't believe till I see her in bed — Prince Edward may come in a husband's disguise But we all know her length and her breadth by her size / She's handsor.ie enough, and her dowry not small, But I think our old friend wo'nt consent after ail ! A place called New-Brunswick, in dinii g of late, Had some millions served up in colonial debate, Such " immense tracts of land" on so pig;ny a chest, Lies rather too heavy for Whigs to digest, What they'll do in this dreadful political plight m ASPKCT OF THE TIMtS. l25 Alas ! I tlon't know ! but I hope they'll do right. Perhaps an emetic would take off the qualm, So they'd belter apply to one doctor Reform ! No news yet from Greenland ; but, if we may From the ice and the snows they are turning adrift. The conclusion is tbe^ too are rearing and tearing, Foaming and fighting and cursing and swearing, Till the spirits that guard the north pole leave their home, Andj in shape oi wild storms, to New-Brunswick are come. " Mid pleasures and Palaces far we may roam. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home !" For the rose is fast budding again from the storm. And soon t'will unfold in f'lll glory — Keform ! The thistle looks bright from the Highlands, and waves Defiance to tyrants and traitors and slaves ; The shamrock would blosso;n if clerical scythes Were permitted no longer to mow it for tythcs. E'en our own native wild flowers precedence claim. Witness Simonds and Humbert — and others of fame ! In short, Mr. Editor, all is confusion, "Which hurries my muse to a hastt^ conclusion.— Good night, my dear foolscap, I send you afar To proclaim to the press-gangs— a general war ! Oh dear ! l2 -'1^.; 120 LINES On the universally lamented death of Lieut. Cleeves^ K. A. — Written at the time of the Funerat — IMournfully swell the funeral Baml, To the memory of the brave — And bury him in a stranger-land. But give him a Soldier's grave ! Let the minute guns gr£an deeper still — Let the sound of Artillery bf The Hero's dead-march as they Icar him along On his way to eternity ! Darkly his plumes, on the hearxe of death, Nod mournfully sad and slow ; For never again shall they gracefully wreath A garland for his brow ! »■ He has gone to the land of departed ghosts, Thro' the blue mists of Time, far away — Where the souls of the brave, on their starry posts, Keep guard round Immortal Day ! Deep toll the knell of departed worth-p- We will echo it far and near— Whilst Beauty and Virtue in silent groups, Drop the tribute of passing tear I And tell it ye winds to his kindred clime — Let his widow'd mother know. They pillow'd his head on a soft green spot And gave him all honours due 1 ■■i*"; l,lNF.-». 127 Then mourul'ully swell llie lunernl Band, To the memory of the brnvc I They bm-ieil him in n wihierncss land Hut he sleeps in n Soldier' s-grave ! ! ! A VISIT TO THE GRECIAN MUS£i>. • O laborum Dulce lenimen, mihi cunque laive Rile rocanti !' Uor. Hail I ancient Greece ! whose num'rous isles retain The gems of faded glory, and the dust Of chiefs of other time ! How should 1 love To sit beside thy Mount of fabled fame,* Barren and wild tho' now its aspect is. Oh Crete ! and dream uf its ambrosial shades. Where erst th' immortal gods in state convenM To guard the birth-place of great Jupiter — Where ancient Minos sat, with wisdom crown'd, Dispensing justice to th' admiring world Of cities that look'd up to him for laws ; Or tread the field that Mars aforetime trode, And view the spot where brave Venetians met Fearless the haughty foe, and pour'd their blood, Warm reeking, at the shrine of Candia's fame — Walk o'er their traceless tombs, and fancy still Linger the shades of heroes there ; — or pause By Lethe's wave, and drink away my cares Mount Ida. 138 VISIT TO In her novf*torf)id itream— but, no— tho* durk, The Rpirit of the pnit still flits before My troubled t'nn*:y, I ^fould not partake Of thy forgetful uess ; iebt one pure ray C)r friendship or of love should be forgot ! Oh f who, t' uppuusc the wruthful fates, would give The sweets of uieiuory, n sacrifice, And be on thiu wide world a soullebs blank ? Then life were insupportable indeed — Annihilation man'v last sad resource ! Waft njc, kind Fairy, to the CycJades Encircling ancient Dclos, from whose shades The chaste Diana and Apollo vprung, That 1 may woo their memory, and touch the lyre Th' Adam of Song perchance has left to mourn With the low winds at night, o'er silent scenes, Where once, in proud magnificence, the halls Of their tall temples echo'd to the sounds Of music and of triumph ! — bear me on To Paros Isle, amid the monuments Of ancient grandeur. On some marble mound, Heated alone, I'd contemplate the scene. And, big with feeling, sing of other y ears ! Or Santorin,* offspring of ocean's womb, By Nature's dark convulsions brought to light, Her birth announced by thunders from the clouds. And celebrated by terrific storms ! Phoeacia we will not pass thee by ; But, jiausing in thy " gardens** of old time, — ' — ^ - I I ■■ I I 1 1 I ~ - — ~ * Thrown up by in •srtbqu«kv duriof ttr rifie •tormi of thunder and lightniDg. ontClAS MCSES. i^ fay homage to the King of Bard*, and dream or Alcinous, and fanc.y in euch guic \Vc hear the echo of thy sister isles Kcpeut the name of Homer ! Ithaca too, We come to ponder on thy former scenes ! Shades of Ulysses und Penelope, If, with Tclt'inuchus, in misty form Ye hold your viyils here — ut midnight hour My mind hhuil meet you, nnd, if happily, Mentor walks near, Til steal a portion of Win sacred fire to light my humble song ! Cytheria next — upon thy time-worn rocks, Vd pensive sit, und pour down on thy vales buch plaintive miiistreUy as should awake The sleeping Venus — then, mid groves of grapes-. The smiling goddess starting from her trance, Should bid me weave a garland to adorn The brow of beauty ! Now the Muse aspires To nobler song ! Heathen mythology We leave the heathen bards ! with rapid wing Onward to that blest spot where man first stood In godlike majesty ! Let Asia's mild And balmy zephyrs fan the glowing lyre, Whilst I with sacred reverence draw near Ti)e garden of creation ! This is the place Where our first parents vvalkM in pure delight In innocence and love ! Shall I presume (A humble minstrel of the gloomy North) To tell the sequel of that Paradise ? No, let the sacred oracles of God :*«' 130 VISIT TO Unfold those ftttal truths ; — but as for m«. The deluge veils each reltc of those da>s, And bid8 me hold my peace ! # * * # •# # Hail I continent immense ! upon thy north, The Frozen Ocean keeps her wintry watch — Her chrystal battlements in awful pon)p Erect their lofty tow'rs to guard thy coast ! Dark, on thy west, the multitude of waves That mingle in wild melody — the sea That gave deliv'rance to the Israelites, 'J'he wiae Levant, the Hellespont, the Don, Marmora, and the Bosphorous unite In proud sublimity of sullen song ! Far on thy south the Indian Ocean swells — The spirit of her waters rides the storm, And sounds old Neptune's harp to wilder strahis ! With softer notes the wide Pacific woos Th y eastern shores, and separates them from The shores of this new wor'd ! But, to return, Within thy bosom where th* Olympus height, Or Lebanon, and Hermon blooming stand — (!lnucasus, Ararat, and Taurus, with The anti-Taurus — mountains of ancient fame : — Or, wind along th' Euphrates lengthen'd course From high Amenta to the Persian Gulf— The Tigris, Sarabat, Moeander, Jordan, And the Orontes, (rivers of olden time) View thy transparent lake-i, Kackama, Van, The gloomy borders of Asphaltides (Where Sodom and Gomorrah smiling stood GRECIAN BIL'SCS. 131 t^cfore that dread catastrophe, of which Strange things are muttered still by restless ghosts That haunt the shores of Palestine) and learn Its fate from the mj'stertous fruit that grbws Around its stagnant waters ! Haste, my muse, From dreams of horror, to Olympus' base Where boils the wave of Byrsa — there we'll paiise, Beneath the regal mount, and rest awhile ! Kefresh'd with odoriferous gales, that mild From citron groves, and orange bow'rs and shades, Wheie the tall date tree blossoms, Ahisp'ring come, The fancy pilgrim rises to resume llis journey to the cities. See, afar, The hills on w hich Aleppo stands — her walls, Her courts, arcades, piazas, bagnios, mosques, Iloniantic gardens, vineyards, and bazars. Characteristic of her inmates, tell That opulence and soft voluptuousness Dwell in proud luxury there ! But, why delajr Our rapid voyage ? Bagdad awaits the muse. The Tigris sleeps tn calm, on the northeast Her castle rears its white front, and looks down l^^pon the Turkish Palace that below O'erhangs the wave, and summer houses round, Invite the weary trav'ller to repose ! Near this the ancient Babylon once stood In all her grandeur ; but, no gilded spire Points out the spot, now deidlate and lone I Haste on ! Bass»rah, as we pass along, Th' Kuphr»tes, we remember thee, thou art i;i3 VISIT TO The haiiglily Arab chief's: nor will the hard Presume t* intrude upon thy busy crowds ! Ancient Assyria next we visit — here The mighty Ninevah once stood, (where preach'd Jonas the prophet of her desolation) Now lost in ruins ! Curdistan, the capital Of modern time hewn from a lofty mountain, The old Edessa, (now as Orfar known ;) And vast Mousal, upon the eastern shore I Teflis of Gurgistan, we next ap|»roach, The wave of Kur rolls by ; on either side, Encompass'd by strong walls. Von fortress gua'-ds Her mount, and there the Persian banner waves ! Her Greek, Armenian, Itomish churches, all Twenty and one in number, tell the stranger Christians hold conference there. The Georgian r&ce, * Fairest of men, and brave, and generous. Come forth to welcome us I We may not tarry, Away, Damascus, Tyrr, and Sidon next, Invite our meditation ! Up the blue wave, On either side, nature profusely sheds Her brightest charms, and there Damascus stands, Smiling o'er her own beauties ! Ancient Tyre, (Inhabited by a degenerate race Of straggling fishermen,) looks void and drear Amid the ruins of its former grandeur ! Sidon, we will not stop to View thy small Abridgement of old timie ; but, hurrying on To Asia K'inor, call at her capital. Emporium of traffic. Smyrna, of thee We would enquire, where Lydia, Parophyl/a, GRECIAN MUSES l.'J3 d3 an Pisidia, Cappadocia, Lycaonia, Cilicia, Pontus, or Amasia (once So celebrated in Greek and Roman song) Now are ! Luxurious tho' dame Nature still Triumphs o'er her own fall, and with wild charm* Transcendant crowns the theatre of ruins ! What soul of thought would not delight to range Amid the antiquities of the old worlds Ismir Aleppo, and old Tenedos Isle, Opposite which last in other ages stood The mighty Troy, where youthful Paris sigh'd In his fair Helen's arms ; whilst round its walls The hundred kings with all their numerous hosts In long and bloody conflict fought-^nd won The amorous beauty ! But that Troy is faU'n-*- Her tomb unknown, not one lone vestige left, Save yon small brook of which the poets sang, Who would not love to tread the marble dome Milasso yet preserves, and deem again Augustus Caesar walks there; or, those halls That near Latakia still commemorate The sports of ancient years ; or, Ephesus, Near thee to dream where once the Temple stood Of " Great Diana ;" or at the wide base Of Libanus' mount, and Coelo, Syria's chief Of citie ^race, whose bold remains display The pride of architecture : — view the wide Hexag'nal courts and courts quadrangular, Connthian pilasters and statues grand— And, passing on with ineditative awe, Ml 134 VISIT TO ORECIAN MUSES. Approach th' entablature, and read the lool;s Of ancient gods and heroes that on high, Alto-relievo, .^Hiard its lofty pillars ! FRAGMENT. I do not know what inward Spirit stirs Man's thoughts up to such strange nnsfu(h/ FRAGMENT. That rails against himself, is surely mad — It borders too much on rash suicide And vain philosophy ! But here my tnoughts Roll back o'er the wreck of ages ! What shall I call it, Ere Time had Being ? — and what was I then — A something, or a blanh- in wide Infinity ? How strange, that one so poor, so like a speck. To the vast millions that inhabit systems, Should not be overlook'd by Nature's GOD ! / who am here, yet cannot tell/;'07n whence I journey'd, or " thro' what variety " Of untried being / nm i/et to pass^* — A Mao ! an insect / — Hob us of our faith. And, oh ! where are we ! — Lost in immensity. Our minds rush back on Wilderness of thought, Witl.jut a resting place; and dash along The tempest of Despair, in broken fragments ! 1 i THE VALE. 'Mid the garland of hopes Time hath woven for me, From my harp of the hills to the dark rolling sea, There sparkles no gem half so dear to my soul — There murjnurs no stream with such witching control — Tne TALK. m II There blossoms no fl«w*p — there whispers no gale — Half so sweet us the magic that harvgs u*er the vale ! No palaces lift tTicir tall coliimits ":r. high — No turretted domes hide thetHselves in the sky — Our parks are the wooiHandtr, our gardens the fields. Mountains our ramparts, and friendship our shields, And rich the perfume our wild roses exhale, As they kiss the soft dews from the robes of the In the mountain's dark shade for t'l c muses design'd, O'er the lone haunted stream by my cottage reclm'd, rd woo my wild Harp, thy expiring tone, And languish to sleep by the moss-cover'd stone ; Whilst echo — soft echo, should whisper the tale, How the Bard sweetly dre?nis in the arms of the vale. >g THE COMPLAINT. Oh yes, thy form is lovely — Thine eyes of heavenly blue, Surpass the brilliant smilics of mom Drest in their richest hue : Those auburn tresse, beautiful', Thy minstrelsy divine ; But what are all these charms to n\e ? Since thou may'st ne'er be mine f Yet must I still remember thee, With an eternal love, — m2 138 THE COMPLAINT. Thou art the same dear one to nic, Tho' friendless far I rove ; But wither'd are the flow'rs of youth, I never may real'.ne On the sweet lieav*". of hope again, As when I thought thee mine ! The chilling frowns of destiny Have circled round my brow, The bosom that once thrill'd with bli&s But throbs with sorrow now, — The world is dark and gloomy — How unhke those smiles of thine ; Ah I why should I thus love thee? Since thou may*st ne'er be mine ! THE BEREFT ONE. (Written by request of a friend.) When first I clasp'd thee to my breast, A lovely blooming bride — Oh ! thou wert dearer to my soul Than all the world beside. I lov'd thee more than words can speak- Thy very name was dear — My youthful heart beat hi^h with hope, And thought that hope sincere. How blissful were my moments then, — A heav'n on earth was mine— THR BEREFT OtiE. 131) Thy presence bade each thought depart That was not thought divine ! For holy was the smile of love That lit thy c'ark blue eye. And the soft blush that ting'd thy cheek, The blush of majesty ! But ah ! how soon the fairest flow'r May yield its sweet perfume, And with'ring in the arms of death, Be gather'd to the tomb. Alas ! 'twas even so with thee ! Thou art forever gone ! And I am left to range this wide. This friendless world alone 1 When hopes that lit our youthful years All sorrowing depart, And the last flow'r that blooms for love Hath withered from the heart. Joy lives not in the rosy smile That decks the morning sky, Kor can the moonlight paths of youth Give pleasure to the eye. Ah ! whither shall the fainting soul Pursue her lost repose ? Ah ! whither shall she flee for rest From all her mighty woes ? Jesus' smiles can heal the wounds Which this false world hath giv'n— 140 THfi BEREFT ONE. JenuV smites alon« can lifl The wanderer to lieav'n ! Adieu ! — a^eu 1 — thy spirit pure Hath wing'd' its happy flight To where inmortarl'' l*ove presides, To realms of Kving light. More beautiful than e'er thsu wast, Remov'd ft'om evVy paw : Then eease my soul to mourn for her, Since we may meet again ,' \ V'. t 11 ODE— TO WOMAN. " De rabonilance du coeuR, la bouche parle." In winter's frosts, or summer's flow'rs, When morning smiles, or midniglH lowVs, There's nought in this cold world of ours So fair as woman ! The love which dwells in that bright eye. The heav'n that breathes i«ea«h fond sigh. And many other reasons why, I love thee woman ! *Tis true, alas ! thou didst begin That well known plague of man term'd sin, By taking poor old Adam in, Oh ! thoujjhtless woman ! ODE. 141 Yet, from the very vcnoniM root ( Wiiicli wise men call forbidden fruit,) How many sprigs of wisdom shoot — Oh ! darmg woman ! P'orevcr doom'd to crawl the earth, Man ne'er had known ' a second birth ;* But for thy Patriotic worth, Hail ! champion woman ! But now our hopes no longer bound To this poor paltry spot of ground, May stretch a thousand worlds beyond — Led on by woman I 'Tis true that death and misery Have been dealt round unsparingly, Millions have sunk by land and sea For thee, oh woman ! Philosophy hath stood amaz'd, While kingdoms rock'd and cities blaz'd, As if old Nature's self were craz'd By thee, oh woman ! Yet, one sweet smile amply repays — The Hero pale with dying gaze Looks up to thy celestial rays And blesses woman ! Then, hail, perfection, as thou art ! Oh ! may we never — never part ! In language of each noble heart, God bless thccj Woman / i» 142 AlK. Lassie of the calm blue eye, Here's a health to thee, lassie-- Pledge it with a tender sigii, BreathM alono for me, lassie ! Think what kindred ibelingn Innd us — Think of what these " gems" remind us- Tliey that wore them once dcsign'd us Heirs to Liberty, lassie ! Cameronia keeps the scroll Handed down by Time, lassie — Written by a Bard of old,-^ There I find thy name, lassie ! Come, and read the sacred story, Where in bloody bloom of glory, t$cot)and*8 Chieftains laid them down As jealous of their fume, lassie. They have gone to brighter plains Far beyond the stars, lassie ; But their spirits oft return To keep watch o*er ours, lanifiie : — Tho' in humbler paths we wander. Yet, methinks, they love to ponder On their exil'd fame — from yonder Realms of cloudy bow'rs, lassie ! Light up then thy calm bhie eye--> Here's a health to thee, lassie, — Pied»5C it with a tender sigh, DrtatliM alone for me, lassie ! " AIP. 148 Think what Rncrrd memories bind us — 'I'hink of what these gem' rrif^intJ ti» — Thoy that wor'^ them onte (Jraign'tl »h lleiiH to Liberty, luMiv ! THEN SIGH NO MORE FOR PLEASURES, &C. Envying oft the treasures, That gild the uplendid train ; We but behohi their pleasures, And leave unmnrk'd the pain. I've seen the son of sorrow Look cheerfully the wbile, — The blasted hopes of morrow, Htill linger in a smile ! There nre eyes which bean» with gladness ; There arc lips of sweet control; But, who can tell what sadness Still lurks about the soul ! Yon smiling Orb of even Looks beautiful the while ! Marching the vault of heav'n, With sweet and holy smile : — But, soon, her Beauty iading, 'IMid scenes no longer calm ; Behdd her diraly wading. Thro' clouds of gathering storm ! ^#\ .•^^ VN*. ^* ". . ■ '. '<*■" ■ 144 SONG. And thus, the Child of folly. Late lit with rapturous glow, — But frowns of melancholy, Enwreath his temple now ! Then, sigh no more for pleasures, More empty than the wind ; — But seek alone for treasures That still can charm the mind ! POLAND. Arouse from your slumbers, ye warrior Poles, Arise with the dawning of Freedom's bright star — If one spark of glory yet burns in your souls, Come rally around the old Standard of war ! Remember the days when your fathers arose, As the waves of the Ocean Hiajestic they came ; Their breasts were the shield to the foeman oppos'd. And the field of their death was the field of their fame ! The days when the 8v«ord of a Thaddeus wav'd, Avenging and bright for the Patriot band, And the onset of myriads fearlessly brav'd. While hope there remainM for his dear native land. Then rouse from your slumbers, ye warrior Poles, — Arise with the dawning of Liberty's Star — If one Spark of Glory yet beams in your souls. Come rally around the old Standard of War ! Ji4ri THE VICTIM. " — 8'd, leir ire They brought him forth all bound in chains, Of tall and stately mein — His dark full eye was pensive, but, His brow was all serene — And strange it was, for one so young — A youth of scarce eighteen. A mother met his last full gaze-^ Her hand was grasp'd in his — For bending o*er her aged form, He gave ilic parting kiss : — But not a groan escapM his breast, (To speak its wretchedness.) He knelt upon the fatal form, While they his white neck bare. Adjusting the dark destin'd cord With cold exactness there ; — He look'd as if his Spirit was Engag'd in silent pray'r ! He paus'd awhile — as listening to The death bell's solemn toll — Then, turning to the multitude, He bow'd with sweet control, — That bow of careless grandeur spoke The greatness of his soul ! The signal now is giv'n — he falls — His struggles soon arc o'er That dark full cvc may smile upon Nl %.-*''- ~.*^ 14G THE VICTIM, A Mother's love no morel- It palely glares in a criminal's grave All clotted round with gore ! — The Mother sought her Cottage in Delirium of grief; And from that hour she never knew One moment's kind relief- She heard his voice in the midnight winds Was still her strange belief ! Months pass'd away, — that scaffold bore Another victim now — Hopeless despair with coward fjuilt Sat wildly on his brow — And he acknow'edg'd to the deed For which the youth lay low I The Mother listenM e*en in death, For it soon spread far and wide, — And a flush of joy pass'd o'er her check. While thus she faint reply'd, " Oh ! was my Henry innocent !" Then bless'd her God and dy'd ! ! ! SONG OF THE POLISH WARRIOR. Oh let the bright thought of our forefather's rhivalrv Urge us to stand as they gallantly stood ; ^or Liberty dawns on the fields of our bravery. Never to ect but 'mid Oceans of blood I SONG. 147 Our BrclHren are valient tho* few are their num- b3r3, Untarnish'd in death is their warrior name ;— As the indignant Lion aroirs'd from his slumbers, They conquer or die on the field of their fame ! Tyrants no more shall look down on our slavery, tSmilc at our bondage and scoff at our pain ; — Our pray'rs have been heard by the Giver of Vic- tory ! V >!and shall live among nations again ! FRAGMENT. " Je mo perdt dans ce vasto abime des grandeurs de Dicu." Now moonbeams slumber o'er thy shades thou love- inspiring Bow'r, And nought but the still dash of waves breaks on the midnight hour — Oh ! let mo dwell with thee awhile — cscap'd the giddy throng — And breathe amid thy dew-clud flow'rs a Minstrcrs lowly song ! There is a holy grandeur in the Moon's pale march at night, While starry garlands strew her paths all smiling with delight ; — But holier grandeur swells the thought that climbs yon uuknowQ road, '■■.40 148 FRAGMENT. Nor rests till it ascends beyond those worlds to Nature's God ! Tis beautiful to look upon the sweetly slumbering deep — But who can tell what storms may rise and spoil her tranquil sleep — Tis* only beautiful to those, protected by that arm, vV^hich sways the mountain-tempest and the Oct- au's wildest btorm ! How Moothing to the Memory is Friendship, Love and Bliss I — Perchance those faded roses lie in Death's dark wilderness I — On ! seek ye for a Saviour's love that never never dies — This life is but a pilgrimage — our home is in the skies ! GO WHERE YOU WILL, &G. Go where you will — over mountains and dales- There's nothing on eaith so divinely fair ; — As Nymphs that blush o'er their milking paili?. With downcast eye to the lover's prayer. I ne'er could delight in those painted charms, Which other Bards are wont to admire ; Oh ! still let me languish in Nature's arms — And steal from her lips a poet's fire ! GO WllhRU VOU WILL IJU Sufi flowing, ringlets uU carelessly JcckM AVitli a wiltl-flow'r wreatli has charms for mc, — Ami the spotless bosom, where ne'er was wrcckM, Its own true lover's imploring sigh ! Then go where you will over mountains or dales There is nothing on earth so divinely lair, As Nymphs that blush o'er their milking pails, With downcast eye to the lover's pray'r ! THE FALLEN WARRIOlt. Wii'l was the flash of the Warrior's eye, When his boasted enemy pass'd him by, And he grasp'd his sword, tho' it broken lay, All weltering with blood in the pathless way ! And now the hated banner is spread In savage triumph o'<;r his head ; But, the whispering voice of his parting breath. Tells his soul unccnquer'd ev'ii in death. They left him alone in the Battle-field, By his broken sword and his gory shield; — But his Spirit had flown beyond the grave, To immortal realms < ho ghosts vi' the brave n2 150 ADIEU) MY LOVE, ADIEU f Dreams of bliss await the morrow, Deck'd with rosy garlands bright ; Moments of exquisite sorrow — Moments of untaught delight — Orbs of beauty beaming mildly, Whilst each bosom-throb is heard ; Lips of fragrance whisp*ring wildly Still the r.weet, the hallow'd word — iidieu, my love — adieu I Can this heart, its vows forgetting, Absent to thy mem'ry grow ? And can thine, those vows regretting, E'er forget thy Williau ?— No ! Holy was the look of sadness,— Still the parting sigh is heard ; Tears of sorrow — smiles of gladness— Both bedew the sacred word, Adieu, my love — adieu ! GIVE ME AN HOUR. Give me an hour all calm divine, Where no meaner eyes than Eliza's smile — < The dew from her lips be my only wine, Her bosom, my only domicile ! Oh ! then would my languishing Lyre wreath A garland for Love with its proudest thrill, That when the Minstrel reposes in death, Should, blooming, live to adore her still ! i 151 MALViNA. In days of yore, an Eastern Pvincc Of mighty pow'r and fame, PosscssM an only daughter, and Matvina was her name. She was the nation's boast—she was The fairest of the fair — And many a goodly-knight, for her, Had died in deep despair :->- For she had pledg'd her heart to one Of noble parentage — He was the pride of all his House — The flower of the age ! But long, a mortal enmity Between their Sires had reign'd, And these two tender lovers were To secrecy constrained. Oft did they meet in moonlight hour, To sad and pensive rove, Weep o'er their cruel destiny And tell their mutual love. At length the hated truth reveal'd, And spurn'd with savage ire — The Prince proclaimed his sovereign will- And this the mandate dire— l'\ I.V^ MALVINA. Wliatovcr Knight should victor prove In lists of chivalry, As trophy gainM in Battle strife. His should Malvina !jc ! The time was set— when th' Orb of day No longer shone upon His lofty cuw'rs — the Champion Might claim her as his own ! ]3ut to deprive the unconscious youth Of Fortune on that day, He sent him with his armicd hosts To countries far away I Now many a Knight from far and near With armor bright and strong, Uode proudly to the fatal spot. To join th* aspiring throng : — And many a gallant Hero fell — Till' there was left but one, Who proudly wav'd his crescent high. And view'd the setting sun ! And loud he thus defy'd the world — I swear by right divine, I am the happiest Knight on earth. The lov'd Malvina's mine ! But, lo ! from yonder mountain path A horseman bounding near ! His ^now-white plumes high dance in air, And shining is his spear ! MALVINA. 153 * I comu' he cries ' lo gain the prize Of victory to day !' Then proudly gallop'd in the midst, And fix't him in array The stranger wav'd his falchion high^ And with u giant blow, He fell'd his focman to the ground. And cleft his skull in two ! High swell'd the trump of victcry ! And loud the proud huzza ! That echo'd for the graceful Knight, Along the ranks of war ! The sun is set — the conq'ring youth Thus cries with voice divine — * Give me your daughter n"ble Prince, Malvina now is mine !' The haughty Prince with smiles reply'd — Thou art the noblest Knight That ever rode in our country. Or grac'd the field of fight — My daughter is thine own, and more, If thou wilt ask of me, I swear by yonder rising moon. It shall be giv'n to thee ! Unclasp his armor ! — Menials haste ! Nay, pity ! stay thy fears ! Vor, kneeling at her Fathei's fect^ Malvina's self appears ! i 154 MALVINA. Mulvina won the peerless prize ! Her love is all forgiv'n ! Youth of her choice return and prove J'^c joys of earthly hcav'n I ! AIR. La joio ost naturello aux amos iaiiooenlofi. Mill garlands transcendently bright. The eye of the Maiden was beaming ; X'or she hung o'er her harp on the lone beach at night, Whilst moonbeams around her were dreaming — of love — Whilst moonbeams around her were dreaming ! Celestial the music it gave, — For it breath'd in the Spirit's devotion ; And Echo came forth on the breast of the wave, To respond with the voice of the Ocean, — in love — To respond with the voice of the Ocean ! WHEN O ER THE WESTERN HILLS. When o'er the Western hills afar The god of day retires, And ilesper — bright and lovely star— The ev'ning song inspires I ..^:;i*. SuNG. llow foiKl, to strull thy 8n)iling pnths, And catch the inultin;; lay, The woodlund wnrhlcr sweetly brcuthes, To while tlic night awuy ! Then, if sonic whitc-rob'd Dryad, wrapt In holy sighs and tears, Weeps o'er the hurp, where Mary wept In days of other years. Oh ! whilst in soft complaining airs Those vespers steal along, Fancy, inspir'd, shall list once more 153 To Mary's long-lost son (r t o ■ HARK ! THE TREAD OF THE BATTLfc HOST, &C. Hark ! the tread of the Battle Host, With the hollow sounding drum ; In awful pomp of chivalry, At midnight hour they come ! None other voice steals on the breeze. To tell of war's alarms ; Save plumes low ruatling 'mid the trees, And the dank of the warrior's arms ! The anxious foe in silence wait Th* approaching cloud afar. And oft they cast an anxious look On the sable dogs of war. • h,KJ Bo^a. And now the slirill-voicM trumpet calls With quick and fearful breath, Vollies on vollics groan tdoud Along the ranks of death. Vingconcc wraps her winding sheet Round the deicrted one, And terror opes her ghastly gates — They fall — they fly — they run ! Mark ! the retreat of the vanquishM host, And the swell of victory ! Hark I the yell of the Tyrant's fall, And the song of Liberty ! THE HARP OF WALTER SCOTT, When the light of my song is o'er, Oh beor my harp to yon ancient hall ! Hang it up at the friendly door, Where weary travellers wont to call. MooRG. Sacred relic of him, whose spirit Hath left thee for an immortal lyre, If thou one spark of his song inherit, Oh warm my lips with that holy fire ! And, oh ! that this trefnbling hand could waken The warmth of thy Master's touch again — But, Harp of Glory, by Scott forsaken. No meaner Bard shall thy strings profani ! TiiR mm* OF W/\i,Ti:n scott. 157 Tell nie if ever his pnsbing shade Revisits thy shrine in the moonlight hour Or, hrcalhfs \\ilh the whiwpering voice ui the • lead, OVr thy hallowM diords with wonted po^^'r — I'ur, then would the twinkling Orbs of even All sn)iling list to each plaintive lono, And Angeli stoop from the joys of heaven To mingle tlicir notes with th' inspired Onf ! r. AIR. Conic forth from your woodland Bow'r, Sweet JJird of the iMountain train, And wreath with the smiles of tliis moonlight hour, A song for my Cottnge green ! There's roses all spotless and while, There's violets transccndcntly hluc. And tfie flow'ret that opes its fair bosom at nikht, All blushing — bespangled with dew. The Lady shall walk in those paths, And list to the warbling strain, Her Beauty shall vie with their rosy wreaths, And inspire the songster again. Then, forth from your woodland Bow'r, Sweet Bird of the mountain train, And wreathe with the smiles of the midnght hour, A song for my cottage green ! Ol I 158 ON THE ARRIVAL OF A BROTHER. Arouse ihee my slumbering Lyre ! Arouse, on the pinions of love ! And strike the proud strain of thy youthful fire, — To welcome the Child of the Grove ! His heart is noble and warm, It thrills with a holy juy ; For he brings forth the Lady of Lansdale to charm The song of the Minstrel boy. Tho' joys forever are dead, That smil'd on our happier years ; — Oh, say — when the light of the morn hath fled. Shall ev'ning bo dark*ned with tears ! Then rouse thee my slumbering Lyre, On the pinions of Friendship and Love, And strike the proud strain of thy youthful fire. To welcome the Child of the Grove. Still — still one Star is not here. To gera the garland of joy,— Tis* the Bard of the woodlands whose smiles'sin^ cere, Are dear to the Minstrel Boy ! They've left him to watch o'er the grove, With the Genius of woodlands to dwell, But, oh ! is his bosom leas warm with love ? His Harp on the Mountains shall tell ! NATIONAL SONG. 150 Then rouse thee ray slumbering Lyre, On the pinions of Friendship and Love, And strike the proud strain of thy youthful fire, To welcome the Child of the Grove ! i THEY PRESS'D AROUND. They press'd around his gloomy cell, With idle gaze encroaching — He shrunk aghast, for the tolling bell Proclaim'd his hour approaching :— But a sullen frown his temples knit As he threw his chains aside, And a fever'd flush passM o'er his cheek- T'was the flush of wounded pride ! Hard by him knelt an Angel form In agonized pray*r ; — A smiling babe clung to her breast, Unconscious of the sorrows there. To see her last— her fond embrace — A Tyrant would have wept ; But, still, the Prisoner's fixed eye Its pale unaltered hrmness kept. They lead him to the fatal spot — He mounts the scaffold high — A breathless crowd the signal waits, And he prepares to die ! — i > 1«J0 THEY PRKSS » AROl.VU. 1 i But, hark ! — upon the distant breeze A thousand voices rise. And to the pale now-faulterinf: youth Tiie messenger of pardon flies. It is tile lov'd — tjje Angel fonii — « My Henry !"— " Oh, how blest !" Thus cry'd th' enraptur'd Jane, and clasp'd Him to her wildly throbbing breast I NATIONAL SONG. Hark ! to the voice of Majcaty, Beyond th' Ailaniic's roar ! Tis' echo'd back by Loyalty, From Brunswick's infant shore — It is the sound of Liberty, It walks the wide world o'er I It faints not 'mid the gathering storm, It is Reform ! Reform ! Reform ! Pale Despots hear and trembling pause. Or grovel in the dust ; — While Britain's King and Britain's Laws Would proudly own it just — Hail ! to the righteous heav'u-born cause I Our * William' hail'd it first ! And soon his brow, serene and calm, Shall truly smile Reform ! Reform ! 1()1 TECUMSEH*S* ADDRESS TO HIS FOLLOWERS, The morning preceding Battle. Rouse, Warriors ! Rouse I Tear the poppy from your brows, And come pay your Battle vows On the field of your glory ! Your fathers from the clouds Shall look down upon your deeds, Whilst the haughty foeman bleeds Before ye ! Sound high the Battle song, Ye of the Lion throng. And avenge Britannia's wrong, Whilst the Day-star smiles in splendor — Bend broad the fatal bow. For each victorious blow, Shall tear the mighty foe Asunder ! Bach tomahawk shall flush With the foeman's gory blush, For his trembling ghost shall rush From before the red man's valor, Then the laurel leaf shall rest On the calumet of peace. And the Battle sound shall cease — Whoop !— Allah !-- * A noted Indian Chief in the last Canadian War. o2 \ itw TELL ME WHAT IT IS TO LOVE. Urit grata protervitas, Et vultus nimium luricus aspici. Horace. Ye who rank in Cupid's train, And the sweets of Beauty prove, Ye who know the thrilling pain, Tell me what it is to love ! Whence the bUish — the wild impression- Tho' her glowing heart approves, That attend the fond confession, When the Soul of Beauty loves ! SONG. When hearts that love have fondly met Round Friendship's aged shrine, Oh should the son of song forget The days of Lang Syne ! The hopes that lit our youthful years. The smiles that seera'd divine. Forever fled—demands a tear For Auld Lang Syne ! Hearts that were warm are cold and pale, And Friends in death recline, Yet we are left to tell the tale r y Of Auld Lang Synt. r SONR. ifia Oh then, tho' presort joys beguile, Each other thought resign ; And give a tearful smile the while To Auld Lang Sync ! >- 1 LINES On the universally lamented death of M. A. (wife if the Jiev. S. E. A.^^ who departed this life llith Ajiril, 1831 — aged 2\ years, " Blessed are they that die in tho Lord." Oh Death ! thy terrors and thegravo's cold dcnrtli Have closM upon our hopes ! — -In Beauty's bloom, Love, Friendship, Joy, and more than mortal worth Sleeps the dark slumbers of the silent tomb ! The voice of music floats no longer round Thy decorated walls, oh ! House of woe ! Id thy lov'd paths no longer may be found The smile of playful innocence — ah, no — The lips that breath'd thy heav'n of minstrelsy — The eye thatbeam'd expressive of thy charms — Heedless alike, of joy and sorrow lie- Wrapt in the dark embrace of Death's cold arms ! Yet, weep not mourners of an Angel blest, Her spirit pure hath wing'd its happy flight, To the bright mansions of eternal rest, v With happy saints, cnrob'd in living light. 164 LIXES. Methinks she waits this there v ith tenfold chiums — Methinks with iieavenly bnuies she bids thee come — Points to her Saviour's chrone — her Haviour'sarms, GMory of Angels and the Pilgrim's hoDic ! PRAYER. I (Written at Midnifht.) Mens mea quid queroris 1 Veniet tibi mollior hora. In sumneo ut videas nutnine laeta patrem ; Divinam insontes iram placarit Jesus; Nunc csl pro poena poenituisse reis. JnHMEON. Arise my soul from slumbers dark. Shake off the Giant fiend Despair ; The voice of Hope addresses —hark I Come sinner, seek thy God in pray'r ! What tho' thy sins are numberless, Thy guilty fears beyond compare, Come sinner, come, and seek for rest In sweetly soothing humble pray'r 1 The Babe of Bethlehem reconciles j Thee to a Father's tender care, Then come to his all-atoning smiles, On the holy voice of pray'r ! H)5 EVENING ADDRESS. Chant once more — delight my cars With thy heav'nlike syinpatliy — Nought can soothe the Minstrel's tears As can thy plaintive melody. Art tlioii unhappy too, poor bird ? Or clost thou love to ffwell on sighs — ►Such as I have often heard, When starry wreaths bedeck the skies I Yes — thou art happy, for thou hast Friendship's smiles to bless thy song; — But days and weeks and months are past Since I too join'd the kindred throng. And, ah ! metliinks those strains shall light Some other hapless poet's gloom. When I am wrapt in memory's night — A silent inmate of the tomb ! FRAGMENT OF A LETTER, TO And now the Sun hath ta'en his flight, Beyond the western main ; But, smiling as he bade "good night," He promis'd to return again : — Yet, ah ! — he could not pro.nisc, we Again his glorious face should see t m IHAGMENT. He Still shall live in splendid spheres, Still smile with vernal bloom, When Fate hath closM our term of years, And laid us in the cheerless tomb ! Then, other Bards may toil for fame, 'Till gaping graves prefer their claim. And thus the brilliant hopes of youth As seasons onward roll — ^Vc think each fairy promise truth That for a moment cheers the soul — Those hopes shall light some other brea^^. When in the vault of death we rest I Go to the tombs of antient fame. Where Beauty lies enshrin'd. And ponder o'er the once-lov'd name. Now, to oblivion consign'd — So shall the sons of after date. Unthinkingly peruse our fate ! What are the very choicest gifts That sinful man can have? Say, can they for a moment lift Our thoughts beyond the grave ? Oh no — 'tis the pure gift alone That points us to the Saviour's Throne ! Come ! come then, to the heav'nly lamb ! No longer let us roam ! His blood can cleanse our souls from shame. And he will welcome wanderers home ! There hand and hand we'll walk the golden shore* In fond embrace to part no more ! 167 TO ELIZA. Spirut ad hue amor Vivunt que conimisii calores CEoliae fidebui puellae. HORACC. Shall I forgcl the parting sigh That from those lips so sweetly stole, When from thine arms constrain'd to Ay, I gave thee, Love, a Poet's soul ! No — not while Memory endures Can I my lovely girl resign — This heart, Eliza, is but yours, And thv fond bosom is but mine ! IMPROMPTU. On a young lady's admiring the roses of a favorite grove, The roses that bloom in the Grove, Tho' fairest of roses 'tis true, I swear by the Powers of love. Are not half so graceful as you. Insensible Poets may speak Of those roses which bud from the tree, But tho blushes that bloom on thy cheek Are the fairest of roses for me ! .» !. I I' 1. H 1(>8 AIR. Uh fell me not ajjain that woman'tj love is warm anil true, Since ev'rj change of Fortune may its constaniy subtlue, — Julia 'twas even so with ihee — and must T stoop to own That others now possess those smiles whilst I am all undone ! How false, and yet how beautiful ! — how cruel, yet how fair ! My heart still loves, tho' thou hast finM a tliousand daggers there 1 Away then, thou false hearted one — unpiiied let me sigh- Proudly this heart has ever ihW, and proudly shall it die ! THE WATERLOO HERO. " Rendez a Cesar co qui appartieiit a Cesar." (Air— RuLK Britannia.) Hero of thy Country's fame. Conqueror of thousands, hail ! We will sing thy glorious name, Tho' th' aspiring tribute fail ! Albion, yes, we sing thy son — Great, immortal Wellington 1 ^■i'l^vyf^.. >f ul je ill TIIR WATERLOO HFRO. l^'O Mcthinks the Chieftain I behold Foremost in the ranks of death, Ardor bieathes in every soul, Caught from his inspiring breath — Hark! the hosts of Albion Shout, "long live Great Wellington I" See, the Goddess of our Isle Proudly leaning from the sky — lie has won her dearest smile, Wellington shnll never die ! lie shall live when time is gone — Still remain Great Wellington ! Wreaths of living laurels bloom Hound the brow of victory. All that fame can do is done- Britain, glory blooms for thee : — But, count those endless glories won By illustrious Wellington ! Those thy Chieftains who have fled To realms of ghosts of other years — Sacred be their gory bed, Moist with sympathetic tears — For they fell 'mid glories, won By illustrious Wellington ! Many a youthful Hero lies Silent on the gloomy plain — But the Warrior never dies. In brighter worlds he lives again — Thus shall it be when thou art gone, Forever lives great Wellington I Pi 1 Li ft ^ 170 THE UARD S FAREWELL TO THE VALE. Ncscio qua natale lolum dulcedine cunctoi Allicit, immemores nee sinit eise lui. IIORACK. There is gladness in Spring but awhile — There is splendor in Summer's control- There is sadness, sweet sadness, in Autumn's pale smile. As its tempests rush wild on the soul ! There's a death voice in wintry winds As they howl thro' the desert profound — There's a look from the skies that reflects in our minds, When they weep with strange whiteness around I Here's n farewell to the Vale- Its song with its summer departs — Dark are its borders — its roses turn pale. As they fade from the union of hearts ! I have climb'd with the Muse o'er your hills— I have wandered by willow and wave I have watch'd tho dark course of your mur- muring rills, And convers'd with the gloom of the grave ! But, oh I if the Spirit retains One gem of the days of past years, In the depths of my bosom old Memory reigns. With the holy communion of tears ! Each haunt of my childhood — the brook — The tree that stands des'late and lone — lARLWULL TO Till: VALU. 171 mn 3 Tiicrc*y an untold expression in ev'ry old look That we lov'd in the days that arc gone ! Here's a farewell to the friends Of luy bosom — 1 hallow each claim — And here's a farewell to the FuUchood that blends So imjnout with FricndHhip's dear name I But, oh ! there arc warm hearts of love, And, sacred be each as I roam — Could the Bard so forgetful of sclfe\(ir prove, To forget the endear vunlt of home ! / / I our encss SONG. Is— mur- jve igns, (Air.— Doar 13anktand Braes of Bonn^ Doon.) LovM Cottage of my Parents, hail I With all thy notes of ininstrcl»y ! Tho* far I wander from the vale. My fondest thoughts are full of thee ! For there I rov'd in youth's delight With those I never can forget ;— But, many a dark and dreary night, Hath damp'd these brows since last we met 1 Peace to thy hallow'd woodland Bow'rs, And meads by fragrant dew-drops prest, And gentle streamlets, lined vvith flowVs, Whose waters sweetly lull to rest I I 17-2 SONO. Oh ! when shall i again embrace, Or, slumber 'neatn the once-lov'd tree—. Oh ! when shall that inspired place Again so fondlj' smile on me ! FRANCE. i :i! i- Avaunt ! pale Tyranny ! For the sons of France are free ! Her Standard of Freedom proudly waves ! Bend low your iron knee, At the shrine of Liberty, For henceforth — for henceforth ye are slaves I Ye daughters of the land Come with laurels in hand Bestrew them round the warrior's grave, — Whilst the song of victory Wafts his Spirit to the sky, "Where the God of Battle welcome's the brave ! Whilst high the Psean swells My youthful spirit thrills With the flame of a Patriot Bard : — . May the sun of valor shine In fall splendor divine, And may glory be the Hero's reward ! ■ J 73 LOVE AND TRUTH. In happier (lays, when Time was young, Ere Love was (nWn as now, A heavenly rose there blushing hung About his infant brow — And Angels srail'd to sec the youth, AdornM with the fair flow'ret • Truth !' But soon, ah ! soon, Sin's hated blight With the pale youth had striv'n, And, frighted Truth with rapid flight Ilegain'd her native hcav'n I Oh ! there alone the rose may prove The sweets of an immortal love i ivq ! AIR. Tho' others smiles may charm, love, They cannot charm like thine; — Tho' other hearts be warm, love, They're not so warm as mine* Eliza, can'st thou e'er forget, The happy morn when hrst we met ! At ev'ning's silent reign, love, Tho' Beauty wantons near ; Her brilliant smiles are vain, love, Eliza is not here ! Oh ! say then, can'st thou e'er forget, The moonlight hour when last we met ! r2 ■ ^'.y.:^ *?v ^ •'■^~ 174 I / m THE SMILING NIGHT-STAR. Molle meum levibus cor est violabile tclis. HORACB. The smiling night-star sweetly woo'd the fair uncon* scious child, Wreathing iis fairy garlands with her ringlets dark and wild, — For wildly beautiful they stray'd adown an Angel brow, Where innocence and Beauty bloom'd with soft and holy glow ! I held her snow-white hand in mine — t'was like her bosom, warni- And gaz'd in silence on her peerless symmetry of form ; — I ghz'd, and wept, that I must leave one so divinely fair, And to another pledge a heart that still must lin- ger there ! She sigh'd and smil'd — then sigh'd again — a sweetly slumh'ring dove — Ail exquisitely sorrowing in dreams perchance of love ; — Oh ! who can tc'l but in that hour of soothing sad control, Her thoughts met mine in mutual tears, whil'st soul conveiVd with soul ! THE SMILING MGIIT-STAR. 175 I leave thee, fair unconscious child, amid the moon- beam wreathes — Alas ! a long, a sad adieu ir.y sorrowing bosom breathes ! It may not, cannot be that I shall ever call thee mine — My vows are to another giv'n ; but, oh 1 my heart is thine ! It FRAGMENT. Bard of the Woodlands — Strike tlio Lyre ! Take up a lamentation for the hills, And let the echo of their faded song Answer the boding Night-Bird as she hoots From yonder mountain pine ! Hail ! to thy sombre shades, oh ! Lansdale ! I love to see thy towering elms and oaks Shaken with tempestuous winds — I love to hear Th' approaching storm roll down the Mountain- side, And sweep along the Vale — "Whilst the pale Moon Looks from the gathering clouds, all dark and drear, As weeping o'er thy faded roses ! I love to see the Lady pensive stand. Leaning upon her Cameronian Uarp Amid the gloom of a^ics — musing o'er The tale q( «thcr vears : — 176 FUAGMKNT. For then inctliinks The shades of antient warriors cluster round Iti whirlwind chariots from th' immortal world To gaze upon her I — Ghosts of her Fathers, rob'd in deathly grandeur, As they wert wont to be in worldly fame I I: I SONG. Oh is'nt it a pit^ such a gallant youth as J, In a real forest nunnery shoulil pine away and die I Oh ! why am I excluded from those exquisite scenes Where Beauty sits unrivall'd amid Princesses and Queens ! Oh ! I wo'nt be a swain — oh ! I ca'nt be a swain ! My heart loves gentility too well to be a swain ! I've been in love with twenty girls, but somdbow it so proves. That my proud heart can never stoop to wed the girl it loves; And if I may not be allow'd to court some high-born dame, I'm sure that I shall ever prove — for aught 1 know the same ! Oh ! I won't be a swain — oh ! I can't be a swain — For my heart loves gentility too well to be a swain ! A fresh blooming damsel to be sure looks well enough, Low seated by the distaff and drest'd in coarser atuif ; SONG. J// But I love to see fine jewels all sparkling that outvie Each other object near, save the splendor of the eye ! Oh ! I won't be a swain — oh ! 1 can't be n swain — For my heart loves gentility too w eil to be u swain ! 1 would attend the Operas — at Theatres be seen — Seated beside some titled one of lull and stately mein — Assemblies, Balls and Routes are true emblems of the Great, And they should my felicity, with BucchuH, all com- plete ! Oh ! I won't be a swain — oh ! I can't be a swain — For my heart loves gentility too well to be a swain ! I'm sure that I'm vhat may be call'd a gentleman of parts, My form and manners degagec, t* ensnare the ladies hearts; — Then here's farewell to country girls— I hate them all 1 vow — Give me the sparkling coronet on Beauty's smiling brow ! Oh ! I wo'ntbe a swain — oh ! I can't be a swain — For my heart loves gentility too well to be a Swain I Thus did a foolish coxcomb sing reclining in the woods. And affrighting with his bull-frog voice th' astonish'd, sylvan gods ; But J, thank heaven, am content— a r^ral life t^ prove— ^ n ? .* II i 'A 1/8 SO.NG. The smiles of playful innocence all the jewels I can love ! Oh ! I will be a swain — yes, I will be a swain — Give me the (;irl I love, and I'm conteaiL to be a swain ! I. II THE MOUNTAIN SONG. 1 from the IMountains of Lansdale come, from forests all wreath'd with the wild-flow'rs bloom,— Where the echoing hills and the nuirmuring streams (iive sorrowing thought to the Poet's dreams ! Oh ! think not to cntch one tone of joy, From the Mountain ularp of the Minstrel boy ! I've seen the rose in its beauteous pride, M'nV violets blushing side by side. On the smiles of the morn reposing calm, Like the Virgin heart, unconscious of harm ; But storms ak jc os the wintry gale, And swept o'er their bosoms c UI and pale — I've wept that Beauty should perish thus 111 the darksome wilds of the wilderness ! I've seen the laurel and myrtle twine Their beauteous wreaths round Virtue'* shrine, And, smiling on the woodlands green, Give gladness to the rural ncene; But bitter Envy's cruel blight Laid waste their smiles in Sorrow's night — I've wept that they should perish thus 111 the darksome wilds of the wilderness ! m SONG. 17^ Earth's i)leasure3 may for a moment, sccni IJriglit Icadirg-stara thro' Life's short dream, Like the mid-night-phantom deluding roam With the wearied Pilgrim far from home, False Beacons hy Virtue's Foeman giv'n, Deluding the thoughtless soul from heav'n ! Alas i that man should perish thus In the darksome wilds of th,e wilderness ! Oh ! think not to catch one tone of joy From the mountain-harp of the Minstrcl-boy — For I from the Mountains of Lansdsle come, From Forests all wreath'd with the wild-flow'rs bloom — "VVhcre the echoing hills and the murmuring streams Give sorrowing thought to the I'oet'' dreams ! AIR. Must thy lover, j\ll forsaken, Bid adieu, still — still unblest? Will not the last sigh awaken Promise from thine Angel breast ? Whilst his vows ascend to heaven — Fond recalling hours of bliss, Sball not one last tear be given, To bedew the paning kiss ? Or thy soft blue eye, appealing, With a pensive smile to prove All thy blushing cheek's revealing — May I read there mutual love ? 180 ilEST YK SLUMBEUINd I ! I 0, Rcst ye slumbering world of waters — Wrapt in dreams of ages, rest ! The pale Sfar of ev'ning glitters O'er thy smiling breast ! But, hark — afar I — 'tis Music's voice. That spells the whispering breeze ! " Ah ! whence those soft complaining airsj-^-- " Their magic pow'r to please !" Alternate notes of joy and sadness Wildly o'er thy bosom creep ; Now they bid me smile in j^ladness, — Now in sorrow weep ! Methinks they tell of Ann's lov'd smile. Then hint her cruel frown ; iBut this heart — this heart is warm the while,- It throbs for i.^er alone ! Ere to morrow's twilight closes, Oh ! pronounce thy lover's doom ! Crown his hopes with living roses, Or, give them with'ring to the tomb ! Other lips mpiy fondly press thee, — Brighter, gayer smiles be thine ; But, oh ! but will any bless thee With a purer love than mine ! Da Bri A\ Ai Si Tl Pi N 181 *i -r.f *^ -t. ■-■ ^ [■■ DAUGIITEU OF SONG. vv. -Daughter of Song, why so silent and sad ? Brighter days may yet dawn and thy soul be yet glad ! Ah ! the fond hopes of childhood are wither'd and gone, And the pale night of age comes hastening on ! W. Say, where is the bloom of thy happier years? Those once-blushing cheeks are all mantled in tears ! Pale, pale is the hue of thy lips — in thine eyes No longer the light of thy youthfulness lies I Thus, the rose of the morning may bloom for a while. When the sweet dews of summer enlighten its smile ; But the chill blasts of winter come hurrying along, And it droops to the tomb like the Daughter of Song ! W. Yet let the bright thought of futurity cheer — Again thou shalt youthful and lovely appear — Thy Spirit thro' regions of glory shall rove, And recline on the siiiiles of thy Jesus' love ! Si 1 i I ■far- 182 TO 1 ERDINAND. If tears may be slice! from the Warrior brow. Unconscious Ferdinand give tliem now ; For grateful and warm would the tribute prove To the moulderinjT ashes of Beauty and Love I The lisp of thy name with departing breath Trembleil on her pale lips 'till clos'd in death : Wh'i'jt the wonted smile of nfFection play'd, l'.ound the last pale look of the once lov'd maid ! Oh ! then, if tears from the Warrior brow, May be given in pity, prepare them now ; — For grateful and warm will the tribute prove To the sacred relics of Beauty and Love ! A PRIZE. A prize ! a prize ! It live? on the warmth of blissful sighs ! I've found the heart of a Lady fair Bright as the morn and light as air, And what is dearer than all — by Jove, 'Tis full— 'tis full of love! A prize ! a prize ! That never, never, never dies ! Beauty, nor Pow'r, nor Wealth, nor Art, Could ever purchase tiiv. Jy's heart ! A PRizn. Cupiil purloin'd the gem, to provf The warmth of a Minstrel's I'>v A prize ! ii All safely iiioorM in my bosom ii .ica — Ami proudly will I retain the prize 'Till it resumes its home in the skies ! ( )h ! then shall its smile a Beacon prove, To li|j;ht me to endless love ! IWf i HOME. More splendid endearments for others may bloom, (live me the wild ^^urlands that blossom at home, Where the war-tri.mp reposes and nations intrude But in far distant dreams on the peace-smiling wood, There Nature retires to muse o'er her charms And Spring strews her smiles o'er the Cottager's farms ! When Summer looks calm thro' the count'nance of Time, Or when tempests and storms breathe a language sublime, There is music — sweet music in everv stream. As it bubbles along in its wilderness dream I There is beauty — bright beauty in every flow'r, As it kisses the sunbeam or sighs in lone bow'r ! And, oh ! there is sure an Elysian of souls. As the tide of past years o'er our memory rollu ! o "**>.S^, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A .V^ 1.0 I.I 1.25 I^ IM |2.5 ■^ 1^ III 2.2 2: ^iS lllllio 1.8 1.4 Photographic Sdences Corporation # ^^ ^^ ^\ ^^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 >^' ''/. €■ ^ 184 HOME. Let us muse by the graves of our fathers and know We shall rest by their side when our journies are thro'— Peace — peace to their shades ! for the minstrel re- veres Each relic of old that is hallow'd with tears ! Not long — and the light of his youth too shall fade — The silent behest of the tomb be obey'd — Some kindred observer his rudely-carv'd stone Shall peruse, with a sigh for the Muse that is gont — Whilst morn smiles as sweetly and sunset looks mild On the shrouded repose of a ivildernest child I Oh ! bring me my Harp when the pale Spirit's breath Fans my feverish brow with the coldness of death--T> Whilst the last throb of feeling fades slow from my heart, Let me grasp it once more, ere my spirit depart — And, oh ! the last touch shall awake ('mid the gloom Thht hangs o'er my pale lip) — a smile for " sweet home !" ^ THE MINSTREL. The Minstrel sat on the lone sea-shore, — His Lyre was strung to aerial numbers, — And pleasingly wild were the notes they bore. As they sigh'd o'er its strings in broken slumbers^ ??#si^ If ■■'S. f< THE MINSTREL. 185 i Like pensive moonbeams pale repose On the silvery bosom of tiic Ocean ; Or like those dreams when our eyelids close On the spirit of prny'r with caiai devotion. For light was the whisper of wind and wave, And Cynthia smil'd with unusual splendor. And sweet were the looks that Ilespcr gave As he march'd in front of the stars to attend her ! Then, rest thee Minstrel — the lone sea-shore — Tic Hosts of the sky and the wind's low whispers, b'ivill teach thee on pinions of faith to soar To Ileav'ns high Throne with thy ev'ning vespers I COME TO ME LOVE. Come to -nc, Love, with thy purple wings, All gaily at eve on the light breeze dancing ; Whilst Mem'ry her light of affection flings O'er my boyish dreams, with a spell entrancing ! Come deck'd with thy warmest smiles and sighs. That 'round the bosom of mortal can hover ; The sighs of that heart and the smiles of those eyes, That never before have acknowledg'd a lover ! Oh ! then should my Mountain Harp be swept By a fairy hand to immortal Treasures ; 'Twould linger at night where the moonbeams crept, In whispering notes of its Master's pi;, sures ! o2 'r fe." >s a im SONG. Then come to me. Love, with thy purple wings. All gaily at eve on the light breeze dancing ; IVhilst memory her light of affection flings O'er my boyish dreams with a spell entrancing I THE THUNDER STORM. Whence the terrific grandeur that shoots thro' the sky, Like the light*nings which flash from a Deity's eye — Whence the noise that makes rocks, hills and moun- 'as to nod. As it aks thro' the clouds like the tramp of a GOD? Tis' the wars of the elements — mad ibr the fight. The whirlwinds rush wild thro* the darkness of night — The sea'spirit rears his proud crest to the sky And dashes the foam like a deluge on high ! The deep womb of Earth the loud echo returns. And the prostrated Oak with the thunderbolt burns ! Hark I the wars of the elements / — madd'ning they rave By earth, fire, tempest and Ocean's wild wave ! — Come, Infidel ! — hither, pale shuddering form ! And kneel to thy Sov'reign— he rides in the storm ! : THE THUNDER STORM. 187 Acknowledge Omnipotence — prostrate beneath His feet, as Earth*s pillars he shakes with his breath ! Whilst in hght'nings he writes on the sky-page of Time- See the finger of God in a symbol sublime ! 14ay, turn not away with that soul-fainting glance, But assert if thou cans*t the wild Doctrine of Chance I I, a Christian, (the humblest that boast- the high name) View his awful display, and repose in the same— For, no powers of darkness — no storms can remove One penitent soul from his mercy and love ! Then roll on ye winds— wrap yourselves in the clouds, 'Till the skies be o'erspread with their blackening crowds — If our souls faint at this, how will tvorlds trembling nod When to Judgment descends the full pomp of— A GOD ! ! I #^ WRITTEN ON THE MOUNTAINS OF LANSDALK, I sing amid the woodlands wild. All clad in wintry gloom ; Where never Minstrel sang before, Or Fancy found a home ! 188 SONG. Still there are charms to wake the sout, In depths of solLtuile ; The murmuring stream— the wind's control Along the leafless wood : — The screaming Owl — the echo deep, That wafts across the vale ; The distant voice of merriment, That floats along the gale :— The mountain, *gainst whose craggy front. The howling tempests beat ; — The cavern, where the prowling beast Takes up his lone retreat ! Oh ! in the depths of wilderness. Along the pathless way ; Still let me strike my Mountain Lyre, And languish life away ! TO MISS Tell me thou Nymph of the soft Hue eye, Tho* a smile or a tear be the only token. Hast thou thrown the chain of thy coldness by — To heal the heart thou hadst almost broken ? Has the Spirit of Love thrown her fairy spell- Arousing thy soul to a warmth of feeling ? ■ • -Sifl M' SONO. 189 Oh ! say, is it this thy lips would tell — As notes from the Harps of Heaven thou'rt stealing ? If so, sing on — for each whisper of love Conveys a balm to the Minstrel's sorrow — The tears he has wept to-day shall but prove, A prelude to smiles he will give thee to-morrow ! <: SOUND THE KNELL OF POLAND. Sound the knell of Poland — Mid tempests dark and drear, Her Star of Freedom hath gone down. Her night of exile near: — And wherefore has she fallen ? Were not her Warriors brave ? Whilst there were left a chosen few. Did not her Banners wave ? Sound the knell of Poland ! — By cruel destiny. Her Spirit weeps its Country's fall. O'er chains of slavery — Her Battle-sword is broken. Her Hosts no longer are i Their warmest hearts lie weltering • In bloody bloom of war ! 190 loLAND. Sound the kncll of Polpnd t She struggled to be free — And traversed e'en the realms of death In quest of Liberty ! Where, Albion, slept thy thunders — And, Gallia, where thine arm ? That look'd with cold indifference On Russia's mighty storm ! Oh ! was there not a bosom. That burn'd with Patriot flame ? Was there not left to diadems, One sentiment of shame ? Sleep on — sleep on, ye careless ! 'Tfs now too late to rise ! Poland has fall'n to rise no more — A noble sacrifice ! TO THE OCEAN. Whilst the Spirit's commotion Rides chainless and free ; Waves of the Ocean, This song is to thee ! Where are the mighty, The noble and brave ? Thy foam-crested billows Dash over their grave ! Wrecks of antiquity. Treasures of Kings, , ^ i I I TO THE OCKAN. Lie Juep iu thy caverns, Contemptible thing's ! Roll on thou proud Monarch, Thy race is with Time — Thy dreams are of ages — Thy song is sublime ! Dark be thy visions, While onward ye rave ; And mighty collisions Shake tempest and wave ! Roll on, 'till the voice Of the winds is no more, And Worlds quaking tell That their journeys are o*er ! Roll tx 'till thy God Shall come down from the skies. And burn up thy waters With th' flame of his eyes I •^' AIR. When the sinking Sun the while, Pale looks back with dying ray ; Oh ! recall the last sad smile. Of him, the Wanderer far away ! When the Moon all lone and drear. Pensive walks her pathles way ; Think his shade is lingering near. Who sleeps in countries far away ! 191 8. i ' ' * " V ♦•, ' •' W 1 *■ 'i»-'M-':'t '*, yl ■ /.,li- i "L Harp of Brunswick, ere we part, III the impulse warm of a glowing liertVt I entreat thee the dying notes prolong ^Till thou hast soundeil bl farewell tong ! Silent and lone the Minstrel stands— His song hath gone forth to other lands — Dreamy and sad are the tones it brings — Lost in the Spirit's wanderings ! Harp of the North, awhile farewell, With the infant notes we lov'd so well — We will meet again — for nobler song Anon will' be heard these wilds among ! :'l % - . ^f ^ ,' .. . ■ - -/ j'Ms :• '-...^ ,{ • -Aha:- .: :. - <* .»^-(. lig^ INDEX. e itls— 58— I— ;! !■*■-' ( ,. i. Aftiwer to •nqiiiriet bv Myra, ' 22 Air. 30 Addreii to tha SuiMx Vala Tamperance, &c. 67 Air, 66 Air, 73 Air, 78 Air, 86 Amelia ■lumberi here, 106 A Simila, 108 A Compariion, 110 Atk not, &e. 114 Adiaut 115 Addreaa to th« Apostate Chief, 117 Aspect of the Timet. 123 A visit to the Grecian Muser, 127 Air, 142 Adieu, my love, &c. 160 Air, 164 Air, 167 Air, 168 Air. 173 Air, 179 A Prize, 182 Air, m B. Battle of Thymbria, Battle of Joshua, &c. 8 32 ".■'. ..,,-, C. Cease my Lyre, ke. 112 Come to me, Love, &e. 186 D. '.jM IHu|ter of Son{, Ate. 181 E. Eternity S8 Evening Address, 165 F. Fragment, (Genius of Scot* land, &c. 7 Fragment, 20 Fragment (Egypt.) 61 Fragment (Star of Bethle- hem.) 6d Fragment (Speak not,&c) 71 Fragment, Fragment, Fragment, Fragment, Fragment, France, Fragment. G. 74 80 134 147 165 172 175 148 150 80 87 101 Go where you will, Sec. Give me an hour, &c. H. How hard the Fate, &c. How calm, &c. How sinks the heart, &e. Hark the tread of the Bat- tle Host, &c. 165 Home, 188 I. Inscribed to Myrfty 62 Impromptu, 167 L. . .^/! Love and Beauty, 68 Lines, 87 Lines on the death of Lieut. Cleeve, 126 Lines, 163 Lot* md Truth, ^^ 17S /NDK.V. M. ."Muiriinonial PolilMf^, 121 MaUina, I'll N. Niclit Addrew, 81 Niftlit AddreiK, 114 National Antliem» 120 Song, 1«0 Ode to Sussex, 12 On the Winds, 63 Oh give me a Scotchman, 70 Orlando, 100 Ode to Woman, 140 On arrival of a brother, 168- P. Parody, 63" Potowskit 111 Poland, 144 Prayer, 164 R. Rest ye slumbering,. 180 S. She ainga of love, 25 Sonnet, 76 Song, 79 — 98 Spring, 166 Smiles of Lovfr, 107 Song, 112 SoDg of Polish Warriora, I4G Song, 171 — 176 Sound the knell of Poland, 189 T. To the Forest Wreath, 6 The Harp of Brunswick, 6 To Eliza, 17 The Child of Genius* Grave, 18 The Minstrel to his horse, 19 22 24 26 27 28 29 31 The Cholera, To Amelia, y'^X ■-■■r. To , The Cottage Maid, The Minstrel's Boon, Take, oh take, &c. The Bubble^ To a I,i|jc. tiC ns To n (;of|n«tt#, f, : ■ »^,^ '% ■y <; 1. 1« 77 !. 84 r"-' 85 103 )vei of 11» 'eitern 1S4 atainslS? ■^ '%'