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 r 
 
 D 
 
 / 
 
 A SCO 
 
 f A (THW I'M.K, I 
 
 A N I) () I II !•: K V i) K M S 
 
 nv 
 
 f< . f< 1 1 T I A N [J) M A N N E 1-; S . 
 
 "Aimfi \v vrai. le hjau ; iheiclur Icur liarmonie, 
 Ecouter t'aM-> ^on ilioeur I'i'elio dc ^mi i^rivie ; 
 C'luuilt'i, 1 :•■(*, pleurer, >aii> hut. au !ia>ar(l. 
 D'un ^Murirc. (Tun nint. (run soupht', il' im rei^anl." 
 
 /h- Muss,!. 
 l.a Poi'sie 
 
 |l 
 
 I'KINTMi l-MK I UK AlTHoK. 
 
 Iil< 
 
I N r I 
 
 veav 1S75' ^'X ^^'^ 
 
 
 fiET 
 
 /I 
 
 '<'l-<.\ 
 
 •h5l5 
 
 i t«. 
 
 fcON 
 
 ^ 
 
C N T K N T S 
 
 Introductory Note 
 
 Pasco. 
 
 A Cuban tale . . 
 
 ^PRINCV, 
 
 An I<lvl 
 
 M0N0i?Y 
 
 On the death of Chatterton 
 
 flET ROSPECTION . . 
 
 A Pre AM : 
 
 Sea pictiues 
 
 Sonnets : 
 
 The Crucifixion 
 My Mother. . . . 
 
 Solitude 
 
 Music 
 
 Licet 
 
 Dolores 
 
 MeiHtation 
 
 45 
 50 
 
 ^> 
 
 65 
 66 
 
 (>7 
 68 
 
 69 
 
 ^ 
 
 .^0 
 
2 
 
 ()DDS AND Ends: 
 
 Love and 1 )i^Miity A// .1 '^(•i^(>ry . . 73 
 
 Music and Memory 76 
 
 Lines Written at ArHii\:^ton ( 'cnwtt'ry 77 
 
 A Vision 79 
 
 (Jiiand Menie 85 
 
 Adieu 87 
 
 In Meinoriani 89 
 
 The Moon 90 
 
 Ciuir<:h I -itany {7'frsijii'd) 92 
 
 Sweet Mower 94 
 
 To my liird 95 
 
 A l'"raL;ment 97 
 
 A Thouglit 98 
 
 Love in Absence-- >/(7///>7/ Prorct l> 100 
 
 Lines in an Album, I, IL 1 1 1 loi 
 
 The same, 1,11 102 
 
 Stan/.a, from ib.e French 102 
 
 Love to the Mirror 1 03 
 
 I*<l)iL;ranis, 1,11 103 
 
 I'Viendsliij) 104 
 
 When I'irst I Met 'I'hee 105 
 
 Soni^ 1 06 
 
 To Felise 107 
 
 1 
 
73 
 76 
 
 77 
 79 
 «5 
 «7 
 89 
 
 90 
 92 
 
 94 
 95 
 
 97 
 98 
 
 100 
 
 lOI 
 
 102 
 102 
 103 
 103 
 104 
 
 105 
 106 
 
 107 
 
 i 
 
 INTKODUCTOKV NOri: 
 
 In (leciiliiit; to coininit the williin '•ollcclion to ri'Turs, so far \vn>^ 
 it from my orij^niiiil intention to |irt'^"nt myself as an aspirant for 
 public favor, that I had aUowcil thi^ Note, a> hrst (hafted, to In* 
 printeil off /;/ /i'; w, with thi? statrmrnt that I did "not appt;a»- in the 
 role of a candidate for public patronaj^e ; " explaininy; tlierein that I 
 had caused my poems to be placed in this form, as a " matter of 
 gratification to those of my friends, who had * soliciteil ' me so to do," — 
 and to myself. 
 
 Having dt.'termined to apjiear for judgment, may i here have 
 leave to state, a. a consideration to be borne ir. mind l)y tliose into 
 whose hands tliis little volume may fall, that its contents are tlie jiro- 
 dt'ction of the spare hours which have remained to me, from day to 
 (hay, (?/'Av' i'lisiiirss diitirs, I'or under these most unfavorable circum- 
 stances have tliey, indeed, (/// been written. 
 
 While, as has been said, *"a book, to the reader, be not wor-e 
 or better for the circumstances under which its author has produced it," 
 I would huml)ly sul)mit, to continue to (piote the same learned Writer, 
 that "to righ.tly estimate any man's performance, it must be com])ared 
 with his own particidar opportunities, ♦ ♦ * (^q know how much is 
 to be ascribed to native abilitv and how much to adventitious help." It 
 is in this latt( r view, that I presume to athance the above palliative ; 
 and I cannot Init feel that it is only necessary for me to plead a disad- 
 
 * Dr (oliiisoii. 
 
v.itilaj^L' so superliilis" ly ^rcU, to have a lil);.'ral allowance made tliere- 
 f)r. Wliilr I il » iMi lie^iMlt; to slair ili.it it i> with no onlinary 
 (lL\'ie»* of solicilinh.' that I thus viMiture to iiilrmlc iii\ ■^«•lf upon iiuhlic 
 notice, I am not willnMit hope of nikxts-;. To coiifos tln>, were to 
 ad nit tlial I liul on'crfil the public lli.U whicli I knr-.v to he worthless. 
 Should I fail, however, the cousciou>ni'>^ thai I have lost in an un<ler- 
 tikin:;, i)ur>ued under e\ery couceivahh: di^advantaj^e, will deprive 
 disapi ointment of its >.tin4. 
 
 In varsin.; the or.ler of the rliyuie, in the openiu'^ j otni, from the 
 coiplet ami alternate to the iprilrain, — and in one or two i n. stances be- 
 conin^' an absolute " apostate from poetic rale " by ijreakin;^ the line 
 •^horl. 1 liave done so to avoid that monotony which re>ull> from too 
 close an adherence to an\ one form, chani^ini; the ver^^ification from the 
 heroic to octosyllabic, etc., as the respective styles seemed best adapted 
 t(; tlu; dilferent shadini;s oi ilie narrative. 
 
 As to ori;'inalitv, v.hih,' I have not knowiiv^lv reproducetl the 
 thou.;ht of another without acknowled_L;inL; the same, I cannot flatter 
 myself that the one or two instances where I </.' thus crcvlit an appro- 
 priated thouLjht, are the t)nly cases where my lines reflect iileas orijjinal 
 in others. 
 
 Thu- do I connnit mv cause to those before whom I here brinii mv- 
 self to judL;meni, fjeliiii; assured that whatever merit my lines may 
 possess will be liljcrally alloweil. 
 
 liltie r 
 And c 
 Henea 
 And w 
 The oi 
 'i'lieir I 
 With \ 
 L'j)on 
 And 
 That 
 K(Lan 
 Those 
 To ski 
 Sooth 
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 Unme 
 Keari 
 As in 
 — Whi 
 
 I] 
 
 * A^ 
 
 file trap 
 vcH[etuli. 
 
I there- 
 •nlinary 
 
 were to 
 
 )rlhless. 
 w umlcr- 
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 'roivi the 
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 the line 
 from too 
 
 from the 
 t adai)tc>.l 
 
 ucetl the 
 lot flatter 
 an appro- 
 ,s oriijinal 
 
 l)rinL; my- 
 hies may 
 
 PASCO. 
 
 [a CII5AN rAl.K I 
 
 Blue roll the waves that lave the southern isles 
 Aiul crested fall alonj^ their coral strands, 
 Beneath a skv where endless summer smiles 
 And wreathes in blossoms those celestial lands. 
 The orange there in rich luxuriance spread 
 Their yellow wealtJi along the j)alm-gnt phiins 
 With which the citrond)lo()ms and jessamines* 
 Ui)on the air their sweet aromas shed. 
 And there the sun illumes the bluest ky 
 That e'er was mirrored in the glassy sea, 
 Edging with tints of pink transi)arency 
 'I'hose waves that lisp their languid minstrelsy 
 To slumbering shells, which murmur in tiieir sleep, 
 Soothed by the whispers of the fondling deep. 
 Anil from those shores in sullen grandeur rise 
 Unmeasured heights of pathless moimtain steep, 
 Rearing their heads majestic towards the skies, 
 As in the clouds their hoary summits sleei), 
 — While with the bridal of the virgin sky 
 
 * As is well known, tne traj^rance of the Jasfnine species, [)articularly in 
 the tropics, is preiininently ntjticeable above ttial uf all other odoriteroiis 
 veH[elulion of tlie smaller growths. \| 
 
'I heir brows arc veiled in violel diapery. 
 I'roin oil tliose liei.uhls the native mountaineer 
 
 Surveys the waters ofth' encircliu}; sea: 
 
 Alone liis love their rui^i^ed steeps I j dan. 
 
 Nor deems he else an e(|nal luxury. 
 
 Though 'neath his view eternal shades ahound. 
 
 And t'ruit> delit lous freiLiht the luddiii Liiound. 
 
 As I'oided l]»)wers in tran«|uil slumber rest. 
 
 ( )u the still air o!" sununers sultr\ da\. 
 
 So sleej" those i^les upon the jdacid lirtM^i 
 
 or southern sea^. where spicy bree/es pia\. 
 
 Soft are those wmds. with odorous sweets nnbued, 
 
 ()t" lemon tlower> and rich acacia blooms. 
 
 A'ld eduntless tlou rs that breathe their (liable pett'iiiiits 
 
 I jton the air. b) amorous bree/es wooed. 
 
 Amid the M-rdure of the islands' shades ^ 
 
 I'lueasini^ pour t'ne joyous warblers' sonjj, 
 
 ii\ j^urLilinLi; rills an 1 m the !]ower\ meads. 
 
 W'heie o'er bright pebbles streams |)a< u)iian ihrouu. 
 And wavinii osiers bre.ithe a-olian sonu. 
 Till o'er cascades where bends tiie ( urlini; \ine 
 TheN hanu, the rocks with ribboned cr\sialine. 
 
 Then babble on with smiles fttr e\ery blaile 
 .And every blossom which adorns the glade. 
 So there the moon's sublimest light illumes 
 
 The svlvan streams which glass her brilliam v. 
 As 'mid their shades the nightingale consumes 
 The tropic eve iri languid minstrels). 
 
 Till the sweet voices ot' the twilight cease. 
 And nature's pulses tremble into peace, 
 When in sweet numbers, to the sot't guitars', 
 Love ])reathe.s its storv to the list'niu'^ stars. 
 
 
I'.ntiMncinu s( ones ol .utlcss luxury 
 
 W lirtr in piot'usictn l.isish nattuc slinl 
 
 I Id ri< lirsi Ntoii-s, uor tlccni c'cn lieavcii <"an hr 
 More fair, its tu'Ids niort* fit tor .uv^els' trend. 
 
 II. 
 
 1" 
 
 u' tnnni across the Antillcan seas 
 
 liroko s()ttl\ witli I iVcsIiiuj^ hrec/c. 
 \VIii< h o'er llu- houudiun billovN^ swept, 
 Till III ilu' island ;j;r()\es it slept. 
 C )r w.tndered iiurriU alouu 
 
 Amid its shades, whii h at it 
 
 s ^(>u^ 
 
 Wakinj;. their ••Jeily haunerr, "* hunu 
 
 Out as 11 passed, while sweellv sans; 
 
 The plunia_u;e(l throiiL:; in hriijht array. 
 
 Their anthem to returning <la)". 
 
 'I'd shade and waves the /ej*hyr l>reathcd 
 
 It> ^reetini;. .nul their boson's wreathed 
 
 !n smiles, — they all rejoiced to press 
 
 The balininess of that caress. 
 
 As npplini; on m merry glee 
 
 In sr.cii delightful company. 
 
 Till on die shore thev siiih.ed to tell 
 
 In parting there their sad farewell. 
 
 The sun, now risen through the verdant trees. 
 
 Timed 1)\ the hree/.e to rustic symphonies. 
 
 Shed 
 
 o er 
 
 Lake, whose waters lav 
 
 Within the soundings of Carribea's sea. 
 It softest ra\s yet brightest, till its breast 
 Sparkled with brilliants, like some beauty dressed 
 
 * l,>injitcllo\v. 
 
8 
 
 In jeweled splendor, as it rose and fell 
 In warm pulsation. 
 
 Here long alone, 
 Save with his child, scarce to his household known, 
 Beside these shores had dwelt and slept — now dead — 
 The Dor Goucalo. Many years had fled 
 Since first he sought ^hese shades which now watched o'er 
 His marble crypt uj^on the further shore. 
 Whence he had come n me knew; — none e'er had known ; 
 Why thus he lived, avoiding e'en his own. 
 And none remembered since the earliest day 
 He trod those shores one from them s})ent away. 
 'I'hough at each eve this man of mysteiy 
 Far into night had wandered by the sea, 
 And only there was he e'er known to show 
 Aught of emotion ; then, from some deep woe, 
 It seemed to rise, which in his heart lay sealed^ — 
 Some wearing, secret jealousy concealed. 
 Stern v r.s his glance, withal yet kind his eye. 
 Where i)ride enthroned maintained a mastery 
 O'er those emotions which his heart downweigned ; 
 Nor rose unguarded, save when sleep betrayed. 
 In life, his thought ne'er wearying, did emjVloy 
 Itself in studying but his daughter's joy ; 
 And wealth attending left naught to desire. 
 Save to reclaim from that dark shade her sire : 
 — Was it remorse or sorrow which thus moved 
 The heart her own, so truly — fondly loved. 
 But death, that presence which man's heart subdues, 
 — Refusing oft' that which alone it sues 
 In its last hour: — A moment's strength to l)ear 
 I'P from its tomb the sins pride buries there, — 
 
1^, 
 id— 
 
 tched o'er 
 \ known ; 
 
 Had sought Goncalo and its ''-11 decree 
 Forever sealed his life's strange mystery. 
 Save that unconscious then, his tongue betrayed 
 Accents that told of passion's hand unstayed 
 Named with his wife, as wild emotion i)ressed 
 Its rending billows o'er his troubled breast : 
 — Siie whom those lips had never named before 
 For years — a stranger to the child she bore. 
 Now years had fled — to womanhood liad grown 
 The child, yet had she not been left alone 
 F'or a not less than mother's love was hers 
 In one her guardian from her earliest years. 
 
 III. 
 
 cs. 
 
 Upon * * * lake smooth gliding o'er 
 Its waves a gondola api)roached the shore. 
 Beneath the oar of sv/arthy Islander 
 Borne gently onward. Fong his raven hair 
 Fell from beneath a ribboned sombrero. 
 About his neck uncovered — and below. 
 Across his half bared breast of olive hue, 
 Floated before the breeze. Flis eyes — but who 
 Would i)aint a Criollo and shade his eyes 
 Less dark then are his southern starlit skies 
 A lovely figure in the bark reclined : 
 (ioncalo's daughter, her sweet form contiiud 
 In softest folds of chaste illusion lay, 
 The very soul oi grace and symmetry. 
 Beneath a silk o'ershading, on a s])rea(l 
 Of Persian tapestry. Rested her head 
 
 1 
 
Il 
 
 10 
 
 C)n licr warm hand, round wliicli lier wcaltli of haii 
 
 ri)lo()i)c(l with roscljiids, twined and naively there 
 
 Their crimson l)lossonis <:hmg, and seemed to seek 
 
 To shade the damask softness of her cheek. 
 
 Ilcy e\es were dark — 'twould be a mockerv 
 
 To t?y to i);iint them by a simile. 
 
 As lhe\ b'-'ucath their silken tVinire half c^losed. 
 
 I 
 
 11 lustrous languor dreammgly re])ose 
 
 d. 
 
 And. as tiu' moon along the summer skv 
 
 !• loats calmly on in silvery dra|)erv 
 
 ( );' tleecy clomls— rent by the wind, concealed 
 
 It-, beauteous form, yet modesth' rc\ealed : 
 
 So her loose Lfannent 1)\' the wind caressed, 
 
 I )isc|oscd the beauteous softness of her breast, 
 
 W'hicii IS Dulsatinu, 'neath its folds suL^sested 
 
 ?i&^ 
 
 A littl 
 
 e s//<'7i.'i 
 
 ■/>'//'/ with a soul invested. 
 
 A terraced st,iir. with marble balustrade, 
 
 Rose iVoni tiie lake — aiid thence an axenue. 
 
 'Xeatii ]>alm^ o'er-arching stret(dicd up the hillside 
 
 To where, crowninii its sunmiit. the chateau 
 
 in anti(]uc beautN stood. -Around the shade 
 
 ( )f the mimosa and acacia swayed 
 
 In wanderiiiL; winds laden with sweet distilled 
 
 I'rom neighboring lemon groves, while clustering there 
 
 1 {loomed tloral hues unnumbered, and the air 
 
 A mill the foliage musical was filled 
 
 With songs of birds. 
 Dilightful scenes stretched round on every hand 
 l'"ar as the sight the vista could command, 
 Of orange groves waving their golden yield 
 Where roval magnolias ranged the freiizhted field, 
 
F I 
 
 Ami iiiidulaiiiiL; plains, which to tlie view 
 Their -.lately palms displayed in richest hue. 
 l-roMi which, far distant, rose against the skv 
 A mountain range in sullen majesty, 
 Stretching far eastward with the boundless sea: — 
 The sister tenants of immensity I 
 
 'Neath a mimosa sliade. 
 Amid ihc verdure with bright blossoms spread. 
 Where over-arching vines with blooms o'er run. 
 'l'em])ered the brightness of a troj)ic sun. 
 Reclined the figure of a voutli. though grown 
 To manhood's stature. Through the screen <>'er thrown 
 ( )f foliage inlcit wined the sunlight cre])t. 
 Ikuhing his brow. — as motionles he slei)t. 
 ( )'er which his hair in indolent unrest 
 Moved in dark clusters, by the wind caressed. 
 A flush was warmly glowing on his check 
 As soft as are the roseate tints that streak 
 The summer sky when, as night's curtains dose 
 On twilight's breast, day sinks into repose. 
 So o'er his li])s, which closed though not compressed. 
 Like the wrought marble, changelessly at rest, 
 'I'he glow of youth in ruddy freshness strayed 
 As living streams the quiet wood j)ervade 
 And there was stamped ui)on that noble face 
 Unbeniling pride, yet temj)ered with a grace 
 Of true nobility, — that intluence 
 Which moulds the face in gentler lineaments. 
 Plain were his Teatures, yet enthroned there. 
 In native grace, appeared that nameless air 
 Of conscious force, — the rellex of a mind. 
 Which still attracts as it commands mankind ; 
 
!|i 
 
 12 
 
 The superscription of tliat jxnvcr which sways 
 
 The world, the mind, — that prince of sovereignties I 
 
 With its great i)reniier governing reason throned, 
 
 ControlHng worlds, yet by no power bound. 
 
 Its consort thought ; the eye its minister ; 
 
 'i'he universe its realm ; the arbiter 
 
 In man of /y/tv/, who, envious, then behold 
 
 Themselves resistless by its ])ower controlled, 
 
 As in submission, 'neath that master s])ell. 
 
 They render homage, though their wills rebel. 
 
 IV. 
 
 From midnight till the star of morn 
 Paled 'neath the saffron veil of dawn, 
 Young Pasco, o'er the star-lit wave, 
 \\\ many a cape and island cave. 
 Full many a league along the shore, 
 (juided his bark with steady oar 
 
 rom where, wilhm a c 
 
 liff-l 
 
 )oun(l ha\ 
 
 1 b 
 
 A band of Cuban patriots lay. 
 
 Close "neath the friendly mountain wall 
 
 Which stretched around, impassable. 
 
 His rich reward fair Lulu's smiles — 
 
 His love — the "beauty of the isles." 
 
 There in the fastness of the mountain height. 
 
 Dreading naught else save the betraying night. 
 
 His patriot comrades waited for the day 
 
 When once again their hands should rend away 
 
 Another thong which bound their bleedimr land. 
 
 Wrenched from her heartstrings by a tyrant's hand. 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 Thou 
 Hear tl| 
 Who t( 
 For fre| 
 
 Strike 
 And kij 
 Which 
 Spreads 
 Hear tl] 
 Thy de 
 Those, 
 Hut a 1( 
 To thr;i 
 iiehold 
 As now 
 They tl 
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 From n 
 Thou s 
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 Must tl 
 Nor to 
 (iain 1: 
 See 
 Spre 
 Am 
 Wh( 
 
 * u 
 
 sovercin 
 
>3 
 
 Thou guardian genius of the patriot brave ! 
 Hear thou thy sons, — still thine the power to save, — 
 Who to thee turn, scourged in their parent land 
 For freedom's cause, by the usurjiei's* hand ; 
 Strike from ambition's grasj) the wreaking blade 
 And kindling brand by blind oppression swayed, 
 Which o'er that isle, where all's so wondrous fair. 
 Spreads blackened desolation and despair; 
 Hear thou thy sons, who nobly still defy 
 Tin' deadliest foe, — freedom's arch enemv. 
 Tliose, chief of despots, whose dark history reads 
 lint a long record of opi^ression's deeds ; 
 To lliraldom i)orn, that would with envy blind. 
 Behold their shackles fettering all mankind. 
 As now, invading that all-sunny clime, 
 Thev there would make e'en libertx a crime, — 
 That gift divine, hereditary right, 
 From mankintl stolen in oi)i)ression's night. 
 'I'hou stricken isle ! how long shall tyrants tlood 
 Thy vales of beauty with the ))atriots' blood; 
 How long, still struggling, must thou bleed, nor fmd 
 One hand of mercy thy red wounds to bind ?' 
 W'eakt.'st, yet braver than the strongest all, 
 Must Ireedom's fairest child unheeded call ; 
 Nor lo her sisters in her anguished cr)-. 
 (iain but the ecJio of its agony. 
 
 See in yon vale, where Nature's lavish hand 
 
 Spreads rich luxuriance o'er a smiling land ; 
 
 Amid the verdure of his nali\e shades, 
 
 Where sj)arkling brooklets babble thronuh tin- ulades. 
 
 Ml 
 
 I i' 
 
 J. 
 
 ♦Usurper, not. perhaps, as having deputed a tuniicr ackiinss 1i(Il:i'I 
 sovereignty, hut as invading tiie I) rthrifihts of free-born men 
 
'4 
 
 IIk- bk'cding slag, just staggering to liis t'ect, 
 
 111 stout defiance meets the tiger's hate, 
 
 l'"roiii whose red jaws ot\ tlowery sj)reads descends 
 
 The gouts of scarlet which its fury rends 
 
 I-'roin those j)oor hin])s. that know no soothing flood. 
 
 S; 
 
 i\e I 
 
 lie iiot current o' their own life -blood. 
 
 'I Juis thou, tair Culhi : -thou Amcrua. 
 
 I'Veedom's tond mother : child of liberty ! 
 
 'Idius in tin uates shall strantrer rol)])ers slave 
 
 The darling otTspring which thy throes gave, 
 
 — I'Or born of thee she learned thy steps to tread. 
 
 Anii stones ye give her when sl-.c asks but bread. 
 
 .\a\. while her cries now smite tliv sluuL:ar<l rest. 
 
 ('raving the life blood drawn from thy strong breast 
 
 \\ liile in her llesh, all (piivering, deei)er gnaw, 
 
 luiifatit tliiiic ('irx. the chains her murderers draw. 
 
 Will ihoii. O niotl'ier. canst thou, close thy heart 
 
 And sec- the prestige of thy name depart '^ 
 
 .And thou, Jiritafiiiid .' foremost t/ioa to Icait 
 
 When justice ]?oints where freedom's children bleed ; 
 
 Whose ])rotid escutcheon on fhy strong ami girth 
 
 Th( 
 
 e sun ol Ireedom flashes o er the earth, 
 Witli tliy brave otTspring, ^ — and as bravely faif — 
 Let it ])e thini that glory now to share ; 
 Liberty's birth, before whose dp/./.liiig rav 
 Tyrants, confounded, shrink in dread away, 
 .\s to their lair the preying beasts of night. 
 \Vhen o'er the mountain breaks the mornini! light. 
 
»5 
 
 V. 
 
 \''oiing Pasco, boldest of the brave, 
 Feared not tlie wiUbiess of the wave ; 
 To him tlie niglit wind o'er the sea 
 
 Was but a voice of melody ; 
 Its tossin<: waves — his heart more tree- 
 
 Were but a thiufi of ecstasy 
 
 .' 1 
 
 In which hi.: boundless thoughts but tound 
 Companions — tlieir iujpatient sound 
 Rejecting in their vague unrest, 
 Love's fevered ])ulses in his breast ; 
 And so he welcomed with delight 
 These restless spirits of the night 
 To him — to uo/ii' of ihev who l)ra\e 
 I'Or woman's lo\e or wind oi- wa\ (.■. 
 Is there a peril wJiich can tVight 
 In trackless seas or mountain heiiilii 
 While still eternities of bliss 
 Are centered in a woman's kiss. 
 \ow as the dying shades of night 
 bled silently before the light 
 ( )f coming day, his light cai'pie 
 Was moored within an island creek. 
 Soon reached the scene he knew so well, 
 Made sacred by the last farewell 
 Which he had kissed from lii)s that thrilled 
 His (juick'ning pulse, while parting chilled 
 His anxious heart ; — as love still dreads 
 The misty veil the future spreads, 
 Xor willing yields its sovereignty 
 To hope, which gilds futurity 
 
i6 
 
 With brij^'htntrss. which its spirit fears 
 
 Rctlcctcd in a woman's tears. 
 
 'I'hiis as lie now. fatigued, reclined 
 
 Heneath a shade. j)erchance to find 
 
 A moment ot're|)Ose ere day 
 
 Should point the hour which should repa\ 
 
 Love's willing toil, his memory drew 
 
 The Iiocu^ ol" his last adieu, 
 
 Which now his heart rejoice to greet : 
 
 — W ould it not make the joy more sweet 
 
 To fold again that form consigned 
 
 To h )j)e which ne'er //r7r/ proved unkind? 
 
 VI. 
 
 As in tile loadstone dwells a vital for( e 
 
 We inav not trace to its mvsterious source. 
 
 which seeks its consort, the responding steel. 
 
 And to it clings, nor why does it reveal, 
 
 'I'h' etifect we mark ; — the Cause, there dies the light: 
 
 And wonder pauses on the verge of night, 
 
 While all the cunning of philosophies 
 
 Ends in the simple knowlege that — // is. 
 
 F^en thus in love a nameless jiower lies, 
 
 Attracting still its own affinities. 
 
 Beneath which force the heart resi)onsive moves 
 
 Love's willing footsteps toward the thing it loves : 
 
 The will obeys, — and 7u/iy it cannot tell. 
 
 Yielding unconscious to that mystic spell, 
 
 1 1; j7>//7/-vision which outwings the sight, 
 
 — Pursued by thought in its mysterious flight 
 
light 
 
 '7 
 
 Thus oft' J.jre dawns a secNiiri}:; consciousness : 
 
 — Thought's cUmmest taper ghnnnering hiint and low. 
 When near us throbs the heart our own would blt-ss. 
 
 Keeling ere yet its j)resence we may know : 
 Still 'tis not/e// — this intercourse of souls, 
 
 Unknown its workings to the mists of sense. 
 And yet the will its magic force controlls, 
 
 Which yields unconscious to its influence 
 
 Thus as she wandered 'neath the verdant siiades 
 Which round her island home luxuriant pressed. 
 
 As from the lake she sought tlieir (|uiet glades, 
 Dreaming of one whose image fdled her breast. 
 
 Did Lulu feel this influence which invades 
 The realm of thought with pulses to invest 
 
 Those cords maurnetic which two hearts unite : 
 
 — A bond too hallowed for the sensual sight. 
 
 And thus impelled, unconsciously she sought 
 The floral shade where Pasco sleeping lay. 
 
 Wondering tlie while if life could offer aught 
 And Pasco gone ; and then in ecstasy 
 
 Transfixed she stood, as (juick that saddening thought, 
 Darkening her ey^i, faded in tears of joy : 
 
 — And O how bright beamed those all-lustrous eyes 
 
 'Neath that one cloud, tiashing love's symj)athies. 
 
 " My Pasco,'' — and her voice sank sweetly lower 
 From the first pulse of love's temerity, 
 
 Like the lone nightingale's, in twilight's hour, 
 As when (hsturbed its warblings die away ; 
 And tiushed her cheek as, like an arching Hower, 
 O'er him she leaned in love's expectancy. 
 
 i 
 
i<S 
 
 I*ressing licr licarl wliic). ohbcd all ciuious. 
 'I'liat sleep sliould claiir. a moment of its bliss. 
 
 () love, tiiou sweet enigma ot the soul. 
 
 l*'earless yet tearful ; all-seeing yet how Mind ; 
 Omniscient \et thou spurn'st the mild < ontrol 
 
 Of thv co-dweller rciiS(in, thus condjined 
 ()j)|)Osing forces blend a marvellous whole 
 
 In thy mysterious framework. - that designed 
 By goodness intuiite that tVom its rise 
 The soul might ,;'/// '//.sv the Melds of paradise. 
 
 ideasures whicii once no io\ tould e'er impait. 
 
 Or longings waked the\' (ould not satisfy 
 'N'eath this sweet forc;e tnid echo in the heart. 
 
 Breathing of its diviner ministry. 
 Love heaven's ric:h dower to man of life ih-' pnrt 
 
 -Ml sacred all immortal, which '^'ail 1^.; 
 l-'.li rnally as it hath ever been. 
 The ///'<-■ of life, — of lite the origin. 
 
 \\ eli Lulu spent about the time reipiired 
 To read the last two stanzas of m\ rhyme, 
 
 In tliat impatience which by love insjjired 
 .Makes every breath a century of time. 
 
 I'earless, and yet her trembling heart consj: jd 
 To stay tiie utterance of its joy sublime, 
 
 .\iul on her lii)s, capricious bound the kiss 
 
 'I'here waiting restless its approaching bliss. 
 
 But lo\c 
 
 Be.sid 
 
 One Ion 
 
 Ln|)a.' 
 
 As fearii 
 
 Suff us 
 
 Mer owi 
 
 As if he 
 
 ■' Is it a ( 
 Su< h w(ji 
 •\'o \i.sioi 
 As thou, 
 I'liou. be 
 I pon his 
 In speech 
 Close to t 
 '•-Vot //,/ 
 In sj)irit t 
 At morn ; 
 'I'he path- 
 As hope ; 
 'I'hy watc 
 Vet when 
 And bu.sy 
 f>ove. tren 
 And there, 
 ^»iit this n( 
 fVhicii mu 
 fVith thy , 
 ^nd first a 
 
I') 
 
 Iiut 1()\ c in» l()iiL:;i'r could irsist, .iiul now 
 l!csi(lf liiiii scaled 'nion;; the tlouns, lulu 
 
 One long and lingering kiss upon his hrow 
 
 Inipassionatel)- pressed. — then ha' k she drew, 
 
 As tearinu love too hold, while a uann ulow 
 Suffuse*! lur cheek ; then o'er his face anew 
 
 ller own she leauvil. a^ l'as(<». w.dsinu. ^eenicd 
 
 As if he doubted if he li\ed or dreanie<l. 
 
 •' is it a dream ■: .\o. no. No dream < ouM trac 
 Such wondrous heaulies as me Lulu iirace ; 
 
 \ 
 
 o \ision paint an imaLie half so fair 
 
 As thou. m\- idol. — auii lliuu sought nie here, 
 'i'hou. heautv's self 1 " 
 
 hen \w one ionu emhrace 
 
 rpon his breast |)ilIowed her lovely fa( e. 
 In speechless )o\ her idoletl form \v- pressed 
 
 Close to the heart which trem 
 
 bled 
 
 in his breast. 
 
 Not Jici (\ my l'as(() — crer\:i.'iierr this heart 
 In s|)irit tlight hath followed where thou werl 
 
 At 1 
 Tht 
 
 norn and ev 
 
 and through night s \ision stil 
 
 e paths exploring ot each neighboring hill. 
 |As hope still promised wiili i.a< h (oming da\' 
 Thy watched return hovv oft" iMit to betraw 
 'et when its voice with less assMraiK e came. 
 ^\nd busy menioi) ceaseless called thy name. 
 >o\e. trembling, sank on s(jrrow's |)alh\l breast. 
 
 lU 
 
 .1 there, disconsol'te. sobljed itself to rest, 
 
 lut tl 
 
 lis no more :-- sorrow shall wait ow joy 
 
 iVIiich must alone the hours now employ 
 
 I^Mth thy 
 aid first 
 
 return 
 accou 
 
 n 
 
 thou truant wanderer ; 
 t thee sine e we jiarted here. 
 
20 
 
 'rhfii (lid I lion ])r<)n)isL' !))■ lliinc own iruc heart 
 1','cn thus : ' but tor a Httlc time \vc i)art ;' 
 And now the moon, tlien newborn, hung on liigli, 
 I'uU tl.ri< e luitli waned alon;; llie summer skv. 
 And see ! — why thus in mihtary mien 
 Art thou returned ? Where hath my Pasco l>een. 
 That thus of dress, as for some carnival, 
 Absence hath been so strangely prodigal? 
 ' ris sure thy humor.— yet thy j.ensive eye 
 Scirce seems to bear such |)resence comi)any. " 
 " Then with thine own s(jftlv persuasive eves. 
 Shall they but bear love's ha|)i)ier embassies : 
 l''/en as thou say'st : ' Sorroa' on Joy sluill loait,' 
 As love woidd e'er sorrow anticipate* 
 \Vhi;.:h sfi// o'erbodes ; for 'tis but /<m' to weigh 
 In love's sweet balance sorrows /(J-jj^v/ <77i'(?r. 
 Called from thy side. — still in our country's cause. 
 'I'he cause of freedom and of justice laws. 
 Kmj)loye(l each hour, — too brief to liberty. 
 Vet O how lengthened distant far from thee. 
 Would 't were not mine to tell thee that in vain 
 Our land still struggles 'neath opj)ression's chain ; 
 'I'iiat still her sons must strive, nor free her soil 
 l'"rom desi)ots who her of her rights (les))oil. 
 Come now the hour when all who love tJieir isle. 
 As /lati/ii^ those who still her vales defile, 
 Must strike for freedom, nor e'en shrink to bear 
 Its standard foremost in the ranks of war.'" 
 " Thus hast thou ever nobly born thy part, 
 Allegiance sharing but with this fond heart. 
 
 *' I'h: 
 — He 
 
 I And 1 
 ! Rich 
 Iriun 
 liettei 
 Hut o 
 I o lie 
 Honoi 
 Ihe h 
 )^^ the 
 Since 
 'I "hen 
 \Vhen 
 Whicli 
 Dark 
 Kach ( 
 i'atien 
 Till in 
 With 1) 
 Like tl 
 As bre; 
 
 So spec 
 Cnmar 
 Till no' 
 Beyond 
 I'hen, I 
 In beai 
 
 <= Fori'stall. 
 
21 
 
 ;iu 
 
 t'en, 
 
 rh 
 
 a u sc- 
 
 am 
 lain : 
 
 sle. 
 
 )(jar 
 
 t, 
 sart. 
 
 My l*as(<). till ot all thou once |)()ssesso(l — 
 All save thy lijt\ in this art thou <li\cst." 
 '• i'hat gift alone is worthy freedom's cause, 
 — Her sword rei)r()a< hful till each patriot draws — 
 And if but rt'HfKrci/ on that hazard cast. 
 Rich the rewaril, if that loved cause at last 
 rriumj)hant stands ; and if ////> may not be, 
 Hetter to die than li\e for tyranny. 
 Hut of thyself" (for still did i'asco fear 
 To hope and lo\e-e.\|)ectant to declare 
 Honor's last sacrifice) " my Lulu, tell 
 The hour's record, whicii tho-i hast marked so well 
 By the pure moon, which now more chaste must |»rove, 
 Since it hath been companion to my love." 
 Then were recalled those hours of bitterness 
 When hoi)e beamed low, those *' tremblings of distress."* 
 Which rend the heart when sei)aration tlitigs 
 1 )ark chilling shadows from its sombre wings . 
 Kach day remembered with its train of fears ; 
 I'atience grown weary ; —faith subdued to tears, 
 Till in love's jjresence all dissolved in light 
 With beauty beam — love's sweet smiles to invite — 
 Like those dark mists the risen sun imbues 
 As breaks the morning, with unnumbered hues. 
 
 ■■.:■ w w ■::■ -r •:- * * 
 
 So sped the hours — so swiftly do they tly 
 L'nmarked by thought in love's sweet company, 
 Till now they led adown the glowing west. 
 Beyond the wa\'e, the God of day to rest. 
 Then, as the clouds which neath the moon's clear light 
 In beauty drape the majesty of nigiu, 
 
 * Bvroii. 
 
(If 
 
 22 
 
 Wlicn sw'cjjt a\va\' by s|)irit winds tliat sigh 
 Their weird lamcntings through the silent sky, 
 lo (hirkness fade — thus borne from their bright sjjhere 
 Into the regions of the nether air; 
 Sliadowing o'er the watching stars but now ; 
 iieaming in beauty on iheir silvery brow- 
 So the glad light which shone in Pasco's eye 
 — Reflected from love's fervency of joy. 
 Now died awav as from the shades of thouLijht 
 Memorv recalled that ill ip. jov forijfot : 
 riiat dark foreboding 'vhich with deep unrest 
 Disturbed the |)ulses of his troubled breast. 
 And threw a shade of sadness o'er his brow 
 Which beamed so bright witli happiness but now : 
 Hilt (juick his heart again forbade that this 
 Should shadow o'er his star of loveliness, 
 As it recalled that cloud which thought had thro.vn 
 Across his face.- — \ et ere 'twas wholly gone 
 lier upturned eyes then fixed upon his own, 
 With love's perception marked that shadow fade, 
 W'lich to her own his troubled heart betrayed. 
 Then thus she sj/oke : — " My Pasco must I trace 
 One line of sadness falling o'er tliy face 
 Nor know the sorrows which thy heart invade. 
 And thus the brightness of thine eyes o'er-shade ; 
 Must love with lo\ e share naught but /lappincss. 
 Nor make its own the sorrows that oppress 
 'I'he heart which yields the only joy it knows ; 
 iM'om which the essence of its being tlows. 
 Nay thus to share thy sorrows but shall be 
 To add to love a keener ecstasy ; 
 
 '^Wly: 
 
-J 
 
 Xor (Iccin t'ly voice one accent e'er can tell 
 To i)ain tliis l)osoni -lest it be farrw II, 
 Vov still with thee this heart can now no pain. 
 And welcome sorrow when we part ai-ain" 
 While thus she spoke pri)U(l adoratio!! hlled 
 His tliro])l)inL;' heart with (piickeninsj; jJiilse-^ thrille.l 
 As in his eyes rose those all Iioher tires 
 Which pure aftection in the breast insj)ires. 
 While thus desotion in her heart displayed 
 Ne'v sj)rings of goodness ne'er betore betra\ed 
 From which sweet faith with i;ra(-ious hand supplied 
 Kntrancini; drau>i;hts. thus doubly sanctifietl. 
 But when ot parting fwr loved accents spoke 
 I'Vom his sweet dream of happiness he woke, 
 And m his heart, as falls a funeral knell. 
 Choking its |)ulses ci u sited that word '\fiir('h't'II." 
 As o'er his face a shade of sadness swej)t. 
 And in his eyes their wonted brightness slept, 
 \Vhich for a moment souiilu the neiirhboring sea 
 In vague uncpiiet ere he made rei)ly. 
 Then thus he si)oke : "■ My Lulu couldst thou see 
 Within my heart its weight of agouv 
 That from thy side a voice all must obey : 
 l-il)ert\"s death-cry summons me away. 
 Would love dare hide what honor's act hath done 
 I'rom thee e'en sfill my own iriy lovely one, 
 That for thy sake no slightest cloud should lower 
 To cast one shadow in this longed lor hour, 
 W hence now I come, Ijeset by tyrant hate, 
 (lathered our comrades for the struggle wait : 
 Wait for the hour when Cuba's foes shall know ; 
 Xot una\enL:ed her children's blood shall tlow. 
 
 1 
 
 1^' 
 
24 
 
 j I 
 
 ! 1 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 For though on freedom treads the oppressor's heel, 
 
 Crushing it downward, shall the tryants teel 
 
 For them from freedem's l)lee(ling wounds shall flow 
 
 A poison deadlier than their hate can know. 
 
 'i'hus have I dared enlist for liberty 
 
 The life which love consecrated to thee 
 
 At whose command returned to thee I bear 
 
 My heart, sweet one, which asks thine own to shire 
 
 Its sacrifice, — yet fear not hope shall })rove 
 
 Beanty's sustainei and the strength of love. 
 
 The midnight passed unknown the shades of fate. 
 
 For thee my heart with longing pulses beat 
 
 Whose sweet assurance should imjjart new life 
 
 'I'e brave the^perils of th' im])ending strife. 
 
 Then through 't was death, for thee my loveliness 
 
 Scaling the rocks which wall the mountain pass 
 
 Where lie our band 1 sought the neighboring sea 
 
 Whose friendly billows bore me safe to thee." 
 
 She heard — yet dared not trust her tongue t' impart 
 
 'I'he cry of sorrow echoing in her heart. 
 
 As motionless she cluni:; to his embrace, — 
 
 Save that alomj; her frame her wild distress 
 
 A tremor sent, the coldness of despair 
 
 Within her heart which now was chilling there. 
 
 Beneath which presence trembling fled away, 
 
 Fond hope still lingering longingly to stay. 
 
 — Hope that still waits e'en where relentless death 
 
 From some loved form hath claimed the fleeting breath 
 
 Nor yields through darkest fall the mists of gloom 
 
 Till at the all inexorable tomb 
 
 Palsied with grief it views, e'en doubt'uig still, 
 
 That cherished form laid in the ' narrow cell ' 
 
25 
 
 'I'heii in one pani; yields u\) the life which L: ! 
 Cpon the features of its idoled dead.'''' 
 ''And is it thus", — that shut within her breast 
 By '■orrow prisoned, her sad accents ceased 
 As on his breast slie sank, — a droopinii; flower. 
 
 ?f that hath but 
 
 Voiceless beneath tliat griet that iiatn hut power 
 
 To fee/ — and in its night of woe t(^ see 
 
 Hut the dark image of its agony. 
 
 " Nay let not tears bedim thy lustrous eyes 
 
 Nor cloud of sorrow o'er thy beauty rise 
 
 For though night lowers it must fade away 
 
 — And () what brightness waits returninu; da\ . 
 
 Before the sunlight melts along the main 
 
 Its waves must bear me to our band again. 
 
 While hope shall guard love's consecrated shrine. 
 
 Which sacred charge to it must love resign.' 
 
 '• To JiopcT she sobbed, '' to hope, whose changeful ray 
 
 Kver receding, beams but to betray, 
 
 While still with light delusive it illumes 
 
 The mists of sorrow which it ne'er consumes. 
 
 But no," and now in calmer voice she sj)oke. 
 
 'i'hough from her breast its anguished pulses broke 
 
 In treml)ling utterance, " no, our country's need 
 
 '• Must not unanswered to her children i)lead. 
 
 And shall her daughters from that cup once shrink 
 
 Which to its dregs her sons so jjroudly drink? 
 
 (io thou, my Pasco, though each hour shall knell 
 
 Its wail of sorrow from this sad farewell. 
 
 * 1 must claim indulpeiice in veiitiirinp; t(i insert tiie precedinfi '. pht lines. 
 The strophe is ititrf duced, liou<i7'cr tucoHgiut'i/s/j, {t^ \-ioTtrnY the ,»>-s/,inry o\ 
 hope,— not ceitainly as presenting a Hgurc of hopelessness to be attributtd t<» 
 mv subject. 
 
 iil ^1 
 
26 
 
 2 li 
 
 Ami night reluming in each breast sluill sigh 
 
 'Ihc weary ret koning of recurring day. 
 
 Till thy return. O (iod, should \.h\> he not — " 
 
 And hope shrank, trembling from that direUil thought, 
 
 .\s one wild bur.^t nf anguish swept her breast. 
 
 And chtjked its pulses trembling intv) rest. 
 
 Amid tlie llowers he laid her form, — and now 
 
 llruslied tlie dark tresses fr(jm lier j)allid brow. 
 
 And with warm kisses, as o'er her he kneeled. 
 
 Sought to restore the life whicli pain congealed 
 
 And tlirough their charmels from her heart to bear 
 
 ■|h( 
 
 e crowding currents which were chiihng there. 
 .\ spirit^' tenderness sougiit her sweet face. 
 Smoothing eacli liiu' to j)lacid loveliness. 
 — A beatit'ic calm like that in deatli 
 ^\'hich still rellects, though ceaseil fore'er the breath. 
 
 The soul's last. 
 
 J VI 7 i 
 
 iest smile : that halo slied 
 
 ( )'er tif all hut IrrDii^ features of the deaii. 
 
 'I'hen raised her evelids, friiiLred in mourning; hue. 
 
 \Vh 
 
 ere tears were trembunsi as the ear 
 
 th 
 
 rlv d 
 
 ew 
 
 'Irembles in beauty 'neath the paling night 
 l''re well the sun dissolves it into light. 
 
 ( )n him, lialf wonderin 
 
 &' 
 
 fixed 
 
 add 
 
 ler saddened eyes 
 
 W here resignation drai)ed love's sym])athies. 
 
 Which ihere were gathered, with her sable shade 
 
 for hope deep in the heart's sepulchre laid. 
 
 As in his arms he raised her to his side. 
 
 Around his neck lier own were calmly laid. 
 
 W hile that pure tribute love's chaste throbbings yield 
 
 Tpon his lii)s in lingering fear was sealed. 
 
 '' Farewall. my Lulu," and his voice betrayed 
 1 ho deep emotion which his bosom swayed ; 
 
'• l"'are\vell ; the morn must to my comrades jjroxe 
 Tiiat Pasco's honor 's stronger than his lovi\ 
 Aiul shame the fear wliich stings my thought to view 
 That to his country l^xsco was untrue." 
 
 One kiss — ^anothcr — 
 
 Now alone she stood 
 In the (hear waste of memory's sohtude, 
 Where hope's sad spirit wailed and echoed o'er. 
 Chilling life's currents, ''here forevermore." 
 
 Vil, 
 
 The moon high o'er Del Cobrc s sombre heiuht 
 I)isi)elled the shades of the unwelcome night, 
 Flooiling the vale and towering mountain side 
 
 In silver)' light. Adown the \-alley gleained. 
 In gracious curves, calm * ■■'• '•" wandering tide. 
 
 Till winding 'neath a dark abvss it seemed 
 To seek rejjose 'neath the o'er-tVowning height, 
 Whose sombre front repelled the moon's clear light. 
 As some great serpent drags its weary length 
 A\'ithin the shadows of its cavern strength. 
 
 All motionless, like troops of hadean ghosts. 
 In groups and isolate, the plain across. 
 
 Ranged the dark ])alms, which the bright armoied hosts 
 On heaven's battlements watched tremulous. 
 \o sound disturbed the stillness, save the cr\ 
 Of the lone night-bird calling i)laintively, 
 ^Vith the soft voice communing with the night 
 Of falling water, white in the moonlight, 
 
 i! • 
 
28 
 
 Which from the mountain, sought the river's breast. 
 
 And with it mingling husiied itself to rest. 
 
 Far up the height, along a mountain j)ass. 
 
 Skirting the brink of measureless abyss, 
 
 Now and anon gleamed 'gainst the darkened height 
 
 Of rock o'ertowering, the portentous light 
 
 Of glist'ning steel, whose momentary gleams 
 
 Chilled the soft whiteness of the moon's pale beams. 
 
 'i'here on the height repose the patriots sought. 
 
 Slumbering upon their arms, yet wakeful, caught 
 
 The voice which told another hour had gone, 
 
 Which cunning time from friendly night iiad won, 
 
 .\s in the mount's defile the sentinel 
 
 In cautious utterance said, " men, all is well." 
 
 'I'hen (juick again upon the pass he stood. 
 
 Courting its shades, as the calm solitude 
 
 Of vale and pass he watched with jealous rare ; — 
 
 Ah ! who could dream that death was lurking there ? 
 
 " 1 
 
 " And dost thou think the rebel watch can sight 
 
 From where thou say'st they hold yon mountain height, 
 
 The stream below where shades its breadth half o'er 
 
 Yon darkening cliff? 'Inhere mav the further shore 
 
 Alone be reached : too deep the river's bed 
 
 Here where concealed these friendly shades o'erspread 
 
 To ford its depths ; — and well T deem 'tis meed 
 
 If men must die. 'tis nobler that they ^ ' .'ed ; 
 
 'I'hen if our foes like they of Yara's fight. 
 
 None may be spared who strive for Spain to-night. 
 
 But there we cross, — and thou canst lead us on. 
 
 As thou hast said, and by a path unknown ? '" 
 
19 
 
 " I can, my rliicf : within a cave it ends. 
 
 And thence the \)2iVi through narrow gorge ascends 
 
 'I o a defile where He the rebel crew. 
 
 'rhe/(7i".s- is siire : the rest an hour must sliow." 
 
 '• Well thou hast spoke. Soldiers," he turning said, 
 
 — The dark battalion there beneath tlie shade 
 
 Stood motionless. — 
 
 " 'I'he enemies of Sj)ain 
 Keej) yonder height, nor dream ere night shall wane 
 The rocks that now their rebel slumbers keep 
 I.oud shall re-echo with their owni death shriek. 
 We cross below where yonder rock o'ershades. 
 Look to your arms ; guard well no naked blades 
 A warning bear to traitor eyes, — for know 
 13ut to their hearts such messengers should go." 
 I'hen to the guide : " l\^i)illo, lead the way ; 
 \ow steady — marcli ! " 'i'he column moved away 
 Along the stream, and silently it trod 
 With measured cadence o'er the vieldiuLf sod. 
 Soon reached tiie ford, they halted. '' Pepillo, 
 Scan well the height — say canst thou see the foe ? " 
 '• Look thou, my chief, seest thou that gleam of light — 
 Wait but a moment- -now u])on the height 
 Above the fall ? " 
 
 " Aye, there — but now "tis gone. 
 Lose not a moment " — 
 
 " Steady, men, as one, 
 March !" Iii they moved. Invaded thus, the stream 
 Plaintively muttered — as in some strange dream 
 'i'he restless slumberer, 
 
 — Soon 'twas left to rest. 
 And scarce a ri])jile trembled on v breast. 
 
 i 
 
 . •' 
 
'l"r;iVLMsc(l the i)lain 'ncath the disuiiising wood. 
 
 Soon at llio moiiiU the- halted cohimn stood. 
 
 ( )n{:e more was scanned with stealthy e\es the heiglit ; 
 
 Once more there gHnimered that betraying liglU. 
 
 As tile clear moon illumined the i)ass. till now 
 
 X'eiled 1)\ the shadows from the clitt's dark i>row. 
 
 Beneath the shades vvhi( h clothed the mountain sides 
 
 'I'he chief held whispered council with the guide ; 
 
 Then at their head, prepared to lead the band. 
 
 He silent waited for the chief's command, 
 
 Who at his side in measured whispers said. 
 
 While all stood motionK ss as are the dead ; 
 
 " Now comrades, softly : muftle e'en xour breath. 
 
 Nor let your footstei)s prate of coming death. 
 
 \\ hen reached the cave, bv fours close coltimn keep : 
 
 Thence scarce ten ])aces where the rebels sleep. 
 
 Where once again must traitors, bosoms feel 
 
 'i'he deadly coldness of the Spaniards' steel." 
 
 Along the mountain tops the day 
 
 Arrayed in robes of sombre grey. 
 
 Crept on apace, as Pasco stood 
 
 In turn to guard the solitude 
 
 Of the defile and vale below. 
 
 Which now the moon — sus})entle(l low, 
 
 ^Vith shadows thronged that lengthened loomed 
 
 Along the glen like spirits doomed 
 
 To endless silence, — gathering there 
 
 \Vith waving })lumes, as if to bear 
 
 The dying night unseen. — afar, 
 
 To its mysterious sepulchre. 
 
.■> 
 
 Bcucatli the cooling l)rcalh of morn 
 
 His coir.rades. now fatigued and worn 
 
 Hy hours of wearying, restless sleep, 
 
 N'ow law o'ercome. in slumber deep, — 
 
 Like that whi'-h soothes the feeble breast 
 
 When fe\ er's cra/ii\g pulse is passed. 
 
 And inotioiiless composure gives, 
 
 With scarce a throb to tell it lives. 
 
 W't wakeful in each wearv breast 
 
 ( )ne thought watched o'er the patriot's rest : 
 
 Ah. but for this it had been mad 
 
 To trust to slumber all they had 
 
 111 liope, — trom Freedom's beckoning star 
 
 Which brightlv beamed though distant far : 
 
 --That thought their land, which to such hearts 
 
 A deathless double life imi)arts. 
 
 An iiour liad ]>assed, and Pasco stcj)l 
 
 Within the pass to where still slept 
 His comrades, though their eyelids lay 
 
 just bound by sleep's sweet mystery. 
 
 He turned the cliff — 
 
 Then forward sj)rang. 
 
 As on the startled silence rang. 
 
 Rebounding with a hundred shocks 
 
 From i)eak to i)eak of towering rocks. 
 
 His carbine's (^rash — the signal set 
 
 Should night unmask her dread alarms, 
 \\-\i\ they surprised, by foes beset, 
 
 No moment find to call X.o arms-- 
 For springing from a neighboring height, 
 With bayonets glimmering in the light 
 
 
 
li 
 
 3^ 
 
 Of early dawn, lie there belield 
 
 The hated foe, — as wildly swelled 
 
 Those i)hrensying i)ulses in his breast 
 
 Those feel by tyranny ojjprest, 
 
 Which know no wilder throb of hate 
 
 Than that when face to face they meet 
 
 Their despot's slaves, who crav'n would dare 
 
 'I'o bind them with the chains they wear. 
 
 Quick as his thought his lead as true, 
 
 Struck from the cliff a foeman low ; 
 
 Nor had the signal failed, as told 
 
 A crash of musketry which rolled. 
 
 Re-echoing with the thunder's might 
 
 From where the patriots held the height, 
 
 'Neath which above the crash arose 
 
 The death-shriek of a score of foes, 
 
 Which from the patriots brought a cry 
 
 Of stern defiant mockery. 
 
 Then quick in fierce reply outrang, 
 
 As Pasco 'midst his comrades sprang, 
 
 A volley from the Spaniard band, 
 
 Now closing fast on every hand, 
 
 And 'neath its storm of iron hail 
 
 Full many a noble patriot fell, 
 
 Employing still ere hushed by death 
 
 The accents of his latest breath 
 
 In freedom's name as to her foes 
 
 His shout of proud defiance rose. 
 
 As rush the waves' itiipetuous might 
 
 Against the cliff's opposing height, 
 
 Their foam-locks streaming in the storm, — 
 
 Each like some fierce demoniac form, 
 
33 
 
 On sweeping with resistless force 
 'I'lie strength whicli seeks to stay tlieir course, 
 Till backward hurled in turn they lay 
 Low (|uivering in their parent sea, 
 Again to rise — and yet again. 
 As oft' tlung backward to tiie main, 
 Vet shivering as they fiercely rush 
 The tottering height they may not crush : 
 So now, with bayonets set, and hair 
 IJack floating on the tremblitig air, 
 — No time for auglu save steel now left, 
 Forward the island patriots swept. 
 Led on, — if aught the brave e'er lecid^ 
 By Pasco waving at their head 
 Their country's flag, full ])roud to give 
 Their lives, that its loved cause might live. 
 Fired by the madly coursing blood 
 Which swelled each jjulse, a ])hrensying flood, 
 Upon the hireling foe they dashed, 
 l^ndaunted, though out-belch.ng flashed 
 Full in their course a withering breath 
 Oi flame, red-tongued, which seethed with death. 
 Mute as the dead, nor stopped, nor stayed, 
 With fixed eyes and jaws close laid ; 
 Fach springing where a comrade fell 
 There summoned by his last death yell, 
 Breathing that atmosphere of hell. 
 Onward they swept, like wave on rock. 
 Till now, with all resistless shock, 
 ('losing u])on the foe, they rushed ; 
 Be'.ieath that shock recoiling, crushed 
 
! ■ ' <-! IJ 
 
 .u 
 
 Dou')i iiou'ii — ;is inaiiy a hosom writlicci 
 HLMK-ath the freezing steel there slieathed ; 
 \'et lingered not. l)Ut (|uiek once more 
 rile thirstv metal wreaked in uore, 
 A^ with insatiate greed it leaped. 
 Still dripping scarlet donhly stee|)ed, 
 From breast to breast, deej) curdling tiiere 
 The currents stagnant 'neath des|)air. 
 Till cleft the arm which ur<a'd it fell 
 I.o^v ipiivering in i's jjurple rill, 
 lligh swelled the frightful din of w.n. 
 The wild death shreik : the shivering jai 
 < )f sj)lintering steel ; the stiflled groan. 
 Half choked ere breathed: the fitful moan 
 I'rom life's low pulse ; the sabres' shock 
 Which rose, down swe]Jt — to_o fieicely lock 
 
 \or loosed their hold till rent aj)art, 
 Tlien plunged revengeful in each heart : 
 — As if imbued with very life, 
 Conscious they shared tlieir masters' strife. 
 Ah. who that awful shock may tell, 
 When waves of human anger swell 
 III fierce contention — battling where 
 Meet livid hate and grim desi)air ; 
 Who paint that hour of phrenzied strife 
 When passion spares not — asks not life ; 
 •Vor deems its warmest, softest breath 
 As sweet as the cold gasp of death 
 l'\)rced from that heart where still the steel 
 It presseiLvvith a savage zeal. 
 Now backward forced scarce half remain, 
 — But step by stej) — then yet again 
 
55 
 
 Fierce dashing on the staggered foe, 
 
 F^ach laid another Spaniard low, 
 
 As sinews straining, hand to hand 
 
 The few still left of that brave band — 
 
 Pale as the dead ; each forehead set 
 
 With beads of cold, congealed sweat ; 
 
 While from their breasts down-tiinkling rolled 
 
 The scarlet gouts, or stream that told 
 
 The murderous sabres' mission there, 
 
 Red-gleaming on the troubled air — 
 
 Sprang at a foe defiant still, 
 
 In hate which death alone could kill. 
 
 Beset as one of wolves tlie prey. 
 
 Full twenty sabres kept at bay, 
 
 Back forced, contend ing/<^^/ by /<'>^>/; 
 
 Red stained from many a streaming cut. 
 
 There Pasco, foremost in the fray, 
 
 Battled the foe defiantly. 
 
 Above his head the flag he held, 
 
 One arm but free its folds to shield, 
 
 Which wielded witli resistless might 
 
 His sabre, — busiest in the fight. 
 
 Struck from his hands the colors lay, 
 
 Forward he dashed : the foe gave way, 
 
 Save one more bold who dared contest 
 
 His way, and sought from him to wrest 
 
 The prize regained, but all in vain 
 
 — One more was numbered with the slain. 
 
 Then quick again he waved it o'er. 
 
 Its folds now steeped in crimson gore, 
 
 As up his height he proudly drew 
 
 And fearless scoffed the hated foe. 
 
Pi** 'St 'I 
 
 36 
 
 But the fast ebbing scarlet tide 
 
 Down coursing from his breast anv.. side, 
 
 Had sapped his Hfe, and that proud cry 
 
 Broke in a gasi) of agony. 
 
 Then on their victim doomed they pressed 
 
 — Back staggering, till by deep abyss. 
 
 From which up rose a doleful roar 
 
 Like that from waves which beat the shore 
 
 Far distant heard, now Pasco stood 
 
 Defiant still — still unsubdued, 
 
 While round him, eager for his life, 
 
 His foes fast closed. The torrent's strife 
 
 Deep down the gorge he heard and knew 
 
 It swept a thousand feet below, 
 
 Nor aught between where hope could trace 
 
 P'or Daring's foot a refuge place. 
 
 Then the first fear his bosom knew 
 
 Cast o'er his face a joallid hue, 
 
 As there now mingling curdled stood 
 
 Out-starting drops of sweat and blood. 
 
 — One glance (juick sought the foe-kei)t pass ; 
 
 Quick one the yawning precipice. 
 
 Then with a shout of proud disdain — 
 
 A challenge to the arms of Spain — 
 
 He turned and down the canon leaj^ed 
 
 — Still grasped the flag so bravely kept ; 
 
 So nobly borne in life 'twas meet 
 
 In death 't should be his winding sheet. 
 
 'I 'he struggle o'er, in death's embrace 
 Kach patriot soldier face to face 
 
m 
 
 37 
 
 Tliere with his foe sank down to rest 
 
 — Undrawn the blades from each still breast. 
 
 The sunbeams there that morning played 
 
 On many a shattered sabre blade, 
 
 But warmed not those who ne'er might know 
 
 Again its life-exliaHng glow. 
 
 Still now the scene an hour before 
 
 Which echoed with red-battle's roar 
 
 And mingling there together flowed 
 
 The Patriots' and the Spaniards' blood. 
 
 No sign of life was seen save where 
 
 The vulture soaring high in air, 
 
 Amid the sky's ethereal blue, 
 
 Looked down ui)on the scene below. 
 
 As they had fall'n so there they lay 
 
 Till time should hide them in decay. 
 
 Nor lived one of that band to tell 
 
 How Cuba's valiant children fell. 
 
 Note. —In the second and concluding division of this poem, in fol- 
 lowing the heroine in her =oarcli for her lost lover, I had designed to 
 picture, to the best of my ability, the treatment meted out to and dis- 
 position made of **los rebeldes " when captured by the Spaniards, — this 
 more particularly in the fortressed cities of the Western Department of 
 the Island, Santiago de Cuba, Manzanilla, etc., incorporating in my 
 rhyme a recount of some of the more notorious acts of barbarism of 
 Spanish warfare in that the "ever f"aithful isle;" I say ''I had de- 
 signed : " I have not abandoned this purpose, but feeling that I could 
 not, in justice to the subject, — or to myself, under existing circumstances, 
 undertake to complete the tale, I have determined to //(/(■ a more 
 " Congenial season." 
 
 l\ 
 
 i V 
 
 I! 
 
 '(Mi 
 
 3P| 
 
 w* .#" 
 
38 
 
 prtttg 
 
 AN IDYL. 
 
 *' Nature exerting an unwearying power 
 Forms, opens and gives scent to every flower, 
 Spreads the fresh verdure of the fields, and leads 
 The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads." 
 
 Hail heavenly goddess with thy floral train ! 
 Nor from thy praises can my muse refrain, 
 As joining with the blithesome sylphs that throng 
 Along thy way and wake the earth with song 
 And merriment, it would thy steps attend 
 And with their praise its humbler plaudits blend. 
 It would thy course o'er hill and mead pursue 
 As these thou deck'st with robes of richest hue 
 And wreathes of flowerets while the joyous earth 
 From slumber wakes thy darling offspring Mirth, 
 Who hand in hand with roguish Jollity 
 In thy glad train trips on right merrily ; 
 In flight ethereal o'er thy path he moves 
 With winged attendants from Idalia's groves, 
 
 — Co7i<per. 
 
t 
 
 39 
 
 Twining thy brow with bacchanaHan wreathes 
 
 And to each nymph the sparkHng grape bequeaths ; 
 
 By Dionysus all hilarious led — 
 
 Showers of blossoms falling on his head — 
 
 He chases Frolic while the aerial bands 
 
 Applaud the effort with rejoicing hands 
 
 And hill and dale the glad ajiplause resound 
 
 Till song harmonious fills the air around. 
 
 As in his arms the victor clasps his prize, 
 
 — Buried in laurels where fatigued he lies. 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 All beauteous Spring 1 thou darling of the spheres, 
 Before whose smile shamed Winter disappears. 
 His face conceals yet lingers to survey 
 The gladd'ning prospects which thy charms display ; 
 What are thy charms let Nature's self declare 
 To those who doubting to her courts repair. 
 Where scenes delighting stretch on every hand 
 As thou with garlands strew'st the smiling land. 
 Thy splendor not the dazzling pomp of kings 
 The Muse adoring all enraptured sings ; 
 Not the vain pageant partial fate bestows 
 Upon the few to mock the many's woes 
 Sinking its slaves in luxuries that blind 
 Till man becomes unfaithful to mankind ; 
 Naught such as this thy liberal hand displays : — 
 Impartial still, this would enjoin my praise 
 Which gives to all nor circumscribed reveals 
 The humblest mortal but its bounty feels, 
 While round the peasant in his mountain cot 
 Are spread thy gifts where princes are forgot ; 
 
 \ 
 
 >' 
 
 I 
 
 Ml 
 
 i !; 
 
 < ' : 
 
 ) ! 
 
 :^ \ 
 
UUHHMiWdUfttlia 
 
 40 
 
 Richest i)rofusion decks their mean abodes — 
 Unknown to man yet favored of the gods — 
 His humble home delights thy earliest care 
 While princely state remaining bounties share. 
 Tiiy generous hands around the ([uiet dead 
 Brightest of Howers vith lavish kindness spread 
 And blossoms ladened there with sweet i)erfumc 
 Declare thy memory of the silent tomb. 
 And how lovely do thy flowers appear 
 Wiiere all is still — so sweetly (juiet there ; 
 There where the cherished of our hearts rei)ose 
 When life's short day in evening's shadows close, 
 Where softly bright beneath the cypress bloom 
 Roses which tint the shadows of the tomb 
 — Breathing so sweetly on that hallowed air 
 That peace itself appears enseraphed there, 
 And modest daisies with chaste violets wed 
 Their fitting emblems o'er the slumbering dead 
 While humbly o'er immortal amaranths wave, 
 Telling of life which lies beyond the grave. 
 So when not ours to speak that last farewell 
 Which in death's hour the bursting heart would tell; 
 To catch the accents of that fleeting breath 
 Which all composed resigns itself to death, 
 How sweetly do these emblems of the dead 
 Commune with us of those whose souls are fled 
 And to the heart a silent rapture give 
 Through memory's voices which forever live. 
 But still the glories of thy work I sing, 
 O ever beauteous, — ever friendly Spring ; 
 Amid thy scenes delighted still I stray. 
 As thou with flowers adorn'st the smiling day, 
 
41 
 
 And love to mark each change that charms the view 
 Which o'er the fields thy lithesome steps pursue. 
 See in the meads streams carol as they run 
 O'er pebbles colored golden by the sun 
 Where meek-faced violets from retirement look, 
 Bathing their leaflets in the passing brook, 
 And yellow cowslips flaunt their gaudy dress 
 Trailing their skirts o'er spreads of velvet cre';«<, 
 While everywhere throughout the landscape sway 
 In balmy winds the "darling buds of May." 
 Thus on the mountain side the forests bare 
 Become the objects of thy tender care, 
 Outward to thee stretching their naked arms 
 Rejoiced t' embrace thy all-delightful charms, 
 And these adorned bedeck the bleak ascent, 
 — Of thy great work the grandest monument I 
 
 li 
 
 lij 
 
 When the soft morn for flight her pinions spread. 
 Moving with blushes from her saffron bed, 
 As the blue arch which props the eastern sky 
 Her rosey wings with softest tint supply ; 
 When the first beams of the approaching day 
 Across the landscape take their quiet way 
 — In that still hour which contemplation loves, 
 As nature thus from calmest slumber moves — 
 How sweet to wander through the smiling fields 
 And breathe the fragrance nature's garden yields. 
 Where every bud which decks the verdant space 
 In due degree fills its appointed place, 
 And in each flower some differing beauties lie 
 While a// their Maker's handiwork display ; 
 
 
 MOb 
 
49 
 
 'r 
 
 N 
 
 How sweet to rest 'neath some sequestered shade 
 By passing zephyrs in their wanderings swayed 
 And contemplate vast nature's boundless scheme, 
 Sui)reme creation of a Power supreme ! 
 On every hand some lesson man may learn ; 
 In every flower some hidden truths discern : 
 View with the rose attending thorns appear 
 And sharpest thorns the sweetest blossoms bear ; 
 Mark the meek violet and the giant tree 
 Share his regard in their required degree- 
 All eloquent, bespeak their God's defence 
 And show to man impartial providence. 
 Here warbling songsters fill the verdant shades 
 And streamlets sparkle through the flowery glades 
 Which, with soft winds that tune the whispering trees 
 Flood the bright scene with rapturing symphonies, 
 High the lark warbles o'er the murmuring trees 
 And hurrying swallows skim adown the breeze, 
 While the glad lapwing as she upward springs 
 Flashes the sunlight from her busy wings. 
 The faithful red-breast, first of all the year. 
 Sings to its mate in numbers softly clear 
 And gives good morrow to the whistling thrush 
 Which greets the songster from a neighboring bush; 
 While Zephyrus her fragrant breezes lends 
 As with the warblers her soft chorus blends, 
 — The aerial gathering decked in varied coats 
 Swelling the anthem with their mellow notes, 
 Till crowning all in the festivous scene 
 Heaven's royal gold weds Earth's imperial green, 
 From which great union spring in glorious birth 
 Unnumbered flowers which deck their mother earth 
 
! 1 
 
 43 
 
 At which all nature in grand concert sings 
 
 And all the plumaged concourse clap their wings. 
 
 * * * * ♦ * * 
 
 The Occident now dons her saffron dress 
 
 Its orange flounces edged with violet lace, 
 
 The royal sun approaching with the eve 
 
 In her enchanted palace to receive. 
 
 Ablaze with light its grand dimensions stand 
 
 Out 'gainst the heavens which above expand, 
 
 — The arching battlements with crimson hung 
 
 And fleecy banners from their summits flung, 
 
 Tinted with purple and enfringed with gold 
 
 Which to the heavens their wavy lengths unfold 
 
 As 'neath the portals moves the god of day 
 
 Followed by the celestial pageantry, 
 
 As waiting Nox swings to the gates of light 
 
 And shuts the scene majestic from the sight. 
 
 When gathering fast attend the sentrying stars 
 
 Marshaled by their proud queen and chieftain Mars. 
 
 The lowing herd now homeward takei. its way — 
 
 FLach drowsy member following o'er the lea — 
 
 As the weird spirits of the dying light 
 
 Attend in silence the approaching night. 
 
 Hushed nature sleeps cradled in verdant bowers 
 
 On softest beds of fragrant breathing flowers. 
 
 As day upon the bosom of twilight 
 
 Slumbers, — and Cynthia reigns the queen of night, 
 
 While darkness o'er tlie sky her covering lays 
 
 Fastened with briUiants from the pleiades. 
 
 Now in the wood sings modest philomel 
 
 Her notes nectareous on the stillness swell, 
 
44 
 
 '4\ 
 
 As willing Echo, waking at the strain, 
 
 Replies harmonious to the i)ure refrain, 
 
 In shaded haunts where Cynthia's soft beams glide 
 
 'Mid slumbering leaves reposing side by side 
 
 To woo the brooklet which with dimpled smile 
 
 Their love indulges the hours to beguile. 
 
 But ever fickle now in truant glee 
 
 She scampers off, babbling coquetishly, 
 
 To Sylva's side who waits her darling choice 
 
 And breathless listens for the well loved voice. 
 
 — Soon dewy showers disturb the ves])er lay 
 
 And philomela's warblings die away, 
 
 While echo with her sinks into repose 
 
 And silence o'er the earth her mantle throws. 
 
 O// 
 
 i 'i' 
 
 I 
 
 Inspire 
 To one 
 In swee 
 From tl 
 Receive 
 From si 
 Which < 
 Lives, t 
 Inspire 
 Thy sw 
 To him 
 Shed a 
 A heav( 
 Wandei 
 To sing 
 With ki 
 
45 
 
 JA 
 
 t( 
 
 ONO D Y 
 
 On the Death of the unfortunate poet Jhos. Chatterton. 
 
 1 
 
 'Tliat marvelous boy that perished in his |)ri(le. 
 
 — lVords7ihirth. 
 
 Inspire O Muse ! the sadd'ning theme I raise 
 To one who loved thy presence, sang thy praise 
 In sweetest voice of all thy minstrel choir 
 From the first hour his fingers swept the lyre 
 Received from thee, — its dulcet strings supplied 
 From silver in that fire purified 
 Which on the altar of thy temple still 
 Lives, though now smouldering, on thy sacred hill. 
 Inspire my theme ; a theme adorned to grace 
 Thy sweetest songs ; the noblest minstrel's lays, 
 To him whose lyre, — so rich its numbers came — 
 Shed a new glory on thy sacred name ; 
 A heaven -born spirit which from its bright sphere 
 Wandering to earth lingered a little here 
 To sing the songs which it had known before 
 With kindred spirits on the Elysian shore, 
 
 «( 
 
 4. 
 
 I 
 
— Earth's tongue in their diviner harmonies 
 
 Echoing here the music of the skies. 
 
 Sweet bard I how bright thy si.n of promise rose 
 
 Yet O what shadows gathered to the close, 
 
 And ere it reached the height of Hfe's noon-day 
 
 In mists of darkness quenchec fore'er its ray : 
 
 How bright that sun, behold where jiassed its light 
 
 A star of glory illumines death's night, 
 
 Yielding a beam immortal to that fire 
 
 Which on fame's height lights genius' sacred pyre ! 
 
 Amid the (juiet of thy native woods, 
 
 Where the sweet voices of its solitudes 
 
 Contentment breathed, the brook, the meek-faced flower 
 
 The grateful songster; and in night's still hour, 
 
 The stars were thy sweet loves still sought by thee 
 
 With more than fondest lover's constancy, 
 
 Drawn to their chasteness by that force which gives 
 
 To love to seek its own correlatives. 
 
 Thy faithful heart, e'en as the creeping vine 
 
 Struck by the worm, around its loved did twine 
 
 Its greenest offerings, yielding sweclest breath 
 
 E'en while below cankered the worm of death : 
 
 Thy love its rich warm soil ; its only air 
 
 Draughts humid with the cold mists of despair; 
 
 Its only light hoi)e's distant dying ray 
 
 A spark expiring — in eternal day. 
 
 Relentless fate, inexplicable doom ! 
 
 Which thus consigned thy genius to the tomb 
 
 And swept thy hopes, thy promise richly fair 
 
 Into the grave to sleep forever there ; 
 
 Nor let thee know in life's resigning breath 
 
 The kindred voice that soothes the pain of death. 
 
 Then 
 Upon 
 To ma 
 Till th 
 While- 
 Illume 
 And bi 
 But to 
 Memo] 
 Flashei 
 Which 
 How d 
 And, p 
 Left a 
 As less 
 As trul 
 The na 
 Perfect 
 Where, 
 Thy sti 
 Of Fan 
 Gave f 
 Of all 1 
 'Twas 
 The ": 
 — An i 
 With g 
 Amaze 
 
 * " ii 
 
 account ; 
 imttured 
 
47 
 
 Then in thy mind bright scenes forever past 
 Upon ihy soul distracting sliadows cast 
 To make tliy agony but deeper grow 
 Till thou hadst supi)ed the very dregs of woe, 
 While — as the lightning's momentary (light 
 Illumes the clouds encumbering the night 
 And breaks the darkness of the midnight sky 
 But to increase its black intensity — 
 Memories of home within thy hapless breast 
 Flashed through despair's thick cloud that round thee pressed, 
 Which in their brightness serv^ed but to illume 
 How dark the gathering shadows of the tomb 
 And, passed away, in thy distracted mind 
 Left a thick darkness doubly black behind. 
 As lesser spheres a symmetry do show- 
 As truly perfect as the greater, so 
 The narrowed circle of thy life not less 
 Perfection showt'd for its littleness. 
 Where, like the planet with its belt of light. 
 Thy star of genius blazed along the height 
 Of Fame, and, meteor-like, though soon 'twas gone, 
 Gave forth a glory which was all its own. 
 Of all mankind the muse did e'er endow 
 'Twas thine alone mature in youth to know 
 The *'gift divine,*'* wherein thou didst display 
 — An inspiration but revealed in thee — 
 With genius knowledge ; knowledge e'en earth's Seers 
 Amazed beheld — in all the work of years. 
 
 } 
 
 * " In our jiidpnient of him" (Chatterton) "age cannot be tiken into 
 account ; he never seems to have been yuung. His intellect was born fully 
 niiitiircd.^'' — Ency. 
 
r 
 
 48 
 
 ilii 
 
 With the eternal hills; the great, deep sea 
 Familiar didst thou commune, — they to thee 
 Were but as loved comjjanions ; with dread voire 
 The 'i'cm|)est, robed in night, earth, sea and skies 
 Stirring to strife, as through the treml)]ing air 
 Hurling its bolts it swept, its course the glare 
 Ofthe fierce lightnings 'luming, was to thee 
 A sight which gave thy soul supremacy 
 Of joy, as, with the Storm-king's awful form 
 Attendant, rode thy sj)irit on the storm. 
 Insatiate Pride beneath thy direful sway. 
 Thou scourge of earth, thou subtle votary 
 Of death 1 of genius all thou may'st o'ercome 
 How oft' hath sought the silence of the tomb ; 
 Youth- beauty, worth, earth's mightiest thy |)rey ; 
 O'erthrown by thee see nations in decay, 
 Of which thou 'st left — of Genius, nations, all — 
 But monuments to show how great their fall. 
 Serpent-like coiled within that hapless breast 
 Implacable ! 'twas thou his life oppressed ; 
 AV^ith lying tongue on to destruction, stilled 
 The voice of reason, thou his steps beguiled, 
 Then, e'en when most thou promised, didst betray 
 To death the victim of thy treachery. 
 And thou, O world ! in thy cold selfishness 
 Witnessed the victim fall yet to distress, 
 Born e'en that thou might'st hidden beauties know, 
 Brought not relief : nay, dealt the final blow 
 Which all of genius death hath power to bind 
 To the dark precincts of the tomb consigned. 
 Is it for this the muse her riches gives; 
 Is it for this that patient Genius strives, 
 
49 
 
 Karlh's hidden things of beauty to reveal 
 
 From secret jjlaces gleancil with tireless zeal. 
 
 — To Hve the drudge of ])enury and care ; 
 
 The dupe of hoi)e ; the victim of desjjair ; 
 
 The world's cold incredulity to brave ; 
 
 To sink forgotten to a timeless grave — 
 
 That those may share a wealth whicli else must lie 
 
 Buried m Nature's dread inhmty, 
 
 Who while they scruple not the fruits t' enjoy 
 
 Ungrateful coldly pass the laborer by, 
 
 Or turn away by envy rendered blind 
 
 — That miscreant which to baseness sinks the mind ! 
 
 May shame smite thee, () selfishness 1 when on 
 
 The tomb that holds the dust of Chatterton 
 
 Thou look'st ; thou Pi ide and Ktivy should j-^ too 
 
 There stray, ye shall shame's deei)est lashes know, 
 
 While humbled ye within your hearts confess, 
 
 Else dumb, how less ye are than littleness. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
50 
 
 
 |ctpsp?ction. 
 
 LIKE the window open 
 
 with the shading eglantine 
 Breathing incense with the fragrant 
 
 mignonnette's its leaves enshrine ; 
 I'll draw the blind a little 
 
 to keep out the setting sun — 
 There : now I want to hear you play 
 
 my air when you have done. 
 I mean that plaintive melody 
 
 — you know what I would say — 
 You played it for me long ago 
 
 as died the light away 
 That summer's eve when last we met, 
 
 it seems but yesternight, 
 And though clouds shade remembrance now 
 
 it edges them with light. 
 The soft Andante breathes to me 
 
 of Saint Celia's bells 
 Borne by the evening breezes 
 
 from the Cloister's wooded hills, 
 
 As ble 
 And w 
 — Thrc 
 Then s 
 I cann( 
 Which 
 Upon I 
 Which 
 And tlK 
 In the s 
 There n 
 The sec 
 The wo 
 Wlien y 
 As roun 
 For it w 
 
51 
 
 As blending with tlie murmur 
 
 of tlie ocean's sad r ,^frain. 
 And wakes a sweet sad feeling 
 
 intermingling joy and pain, 
 — Throbbings of joy which sweetly thrill 
 
 by busy memory brought, 
 Then sadly tremble into rest, 
 
 struck bv the cliill of tliouLiht. 
 I cannot else explain it 
 
 but that memories of the past 
 Which that loved melody awakes 
 
 now light now shadows cast 
 Upon my heart, as its sweet chords 
 
 recall each cherished scene 
 Which now — sweet pictures of the j)ast I 
 
 but show what " might have been," 
 And these alone remain to me 
 
 of all tI;..L hap[)y time — 
 In the soul's darkened chambers hung 
 
 in sad memoriam. 
 There might have been no shadows : 
 
 do you think I never guessed 
 The secret hidden in the heait 
 
 now beating in your breast : 
 The ivould'he secret from that night 
 
 I left you for the sea 
 When your dear lips revealed that love 
 
 your tongue withheld from me, 
 As round my neck your arms were ]")laced 
 
 — I feel their impress yet 
 For it woke a rapture in my heart 
 
 I never can forget, 
 
 tl 
 
■.^T?!*- 
 
 Il 
 
 li 
 
 il 
 
 S2 
 
 And in its depths your eyes kindled 
 
 a fire still smouldering there 
 Though, like watch-lamps in selpulchres, 
 
 it burns in lifeless air. 
 You surely loved me, May, but then 
 
 ere wealth was mine — the prize 
 I sought to gain the i^realer — 
 
 you feared the sacrifice, 
 For you could not renounce for me 
 
 what I could not supply : 
 That luxury which you enjoyed 
 
 and could not well deny 
 Yourself. For this I blame you not — 
 
 man has no right to claim 
 Such sacrifice from woman, — 
 
 though they make them all the same, 
 And though now fortune has removed 
 
 that barrier aside 
 What matters it since I have lost 
 
 the only wealth I pride. 
 No, not for this 1 blame you 
 
 but that when the charm dissolved 
 Ere it had well been woven, 
 
 that your will again involved 
 My love. Ah, you remember it 
 
 for though you answer not 
 That tear now trembling on your cheek 
 
 shows that the springs of thought 
 Have been disturbed by memory, 
 
 and thus overflowing rise — 
 And what a lovely channel 
 
 have they chosen in your eyes. 
 
e same, 
 
 ilved 
 
 eht 
 
 53 
 
 But take my arm and let us stroll 
 
 along the li/iic-icay^ 
 This may be the last meeting 
 
 we may know for many a day 
 For I go from here to-morrow, 
 
 I can scarcely tell you where, 
 I do not know which way myself — 
 
 in truth I little care, 
 But I dare no longer trust my heart 
 
 by its surrendered shrine 
 f.est it should seek to repossess 
 
 that which it must resign ; 
 And I would not between you come, 
 
 you now are his, and so 
 'Tis better for forgetfulness — for all^ 
 
 that I should go. 
 This month you marry him 
 
 — of all the brightest of the year 
 Which must with each summer's return 
 
 its shade of sadness bear 
 Hereafter, for 'twill wake the love 
 
 I now must bury in 
 My heart here where it first was born : 
 
 would that it had not been, 
 For better far that ne'er had bloomed 
 
 the flower affection gave 
 Than to have blossomed but to deck, 
 
 as now, affection's grave 
 It was beside this gate I stood, 
 
 as you already know. 
 And heard you play that melody 
 
 which I now cherish so. 
 
 
 I 
 
 
»l! 
 
 54 
 
 The (lay I met you, — then my love 
 
 woke to that sweet refrain 
 As its harmony with silver chords 
 
 wove round my heart a chain, 
 Which tliough 'tis rent asunder, 
 
 recollection now disj^lays 
 Its scattered links which still reflect 
 
 the scenes of liappier t'ays ; 
 And with, it came an image 
 
 then enshrined within my heait 
 Where it must rest until the grave 
 
 shall claim it as its part. 
 But May farewell : I'll leave you now, 
 
 we've parted often here 
 And this may make it easier 
 
 for l)oth of us to bear — 
 Or siiall I see you to the porch? 
 
 — it may be wiser so 
 h'or your hand is trembling — though perhai)s 
 
 'tis better finished now, 
 And so good-bye : the agony 
 
 which now my heart eiidured 
 I pray God with this last adieu 
 
 may never once be yours. 
 
 * •X- * * * ii * 
 
 There is a quiet spirit in the trees 
 
 that shade the dead 
 
 IJeneath which now I'm sitting 
 
 after many years are fled ; 
 
 Tis June again and from her grave 
 
 I'm looking out to sea 
 
 From tl 
 
 The wa 
 
 Like mi 
 
 And th( 
 
 Kmgerit 
 
 White-;^ 
 
 Reflects 
 
 This see 
 
 Alone 0] 
 
 And o'ei 
 
 O'ershac' 
 
 Thus ho 
 
 And to ( 
 
 Vet can 
 
 Kmbalm( 
 
55 
 
 * 
 
 From the village church-yard where she slee[)s 
 
 who was so dear to me. 
 The waves break sadly, as I've heard them break 
 
 in manv a clime, — 
 Like memories wliich forever fall 
 
 aloHLT the shores of time — 
 And the droninu, bee hums idlv bv 
 
 in the drowsy Summer air 
 Lmgering to si]) from new-blown sweets 
 
 which blossom everywhere. 
 White-winged, a solitary shij) 
 
 far out u])on the sea 
 Reflects the noon-day sunlight 
 
 — soon o'erclouded, and to me 
 This seems a fitting image 
 
 of the lot I bear this day : 
 Alone on life's broad ocean 
 
 and the sunlight passed away ; 
 And o'er its havenless expanse 
 
 my bark of life must bear 
 O'ershadowed bv those memories 
 
 which must ever darken there. 
 Thus hope's delusive star how oft' 
 
 in sorrow's night declines 
 And to dark disappointment's shades 
 
 our happiness consigns ; 
 Yet can the image which awoke \\\at 
 
 hope e'er die away 
 Kmbalmed in the heart's sepulchre from 
 
 " feeling's dull decay." 
 
 Hi 
 
 
'i •. 
 
 56 
 
 A DREAM. 
 
 One Summer's day, beside the murmuring sea, 
 
 Stretched on the beach, T slept, and dreamed I saw 
 
 A noble Ship which, out upon the deep, 
 
 Moved jiroudly o'er the waters toward the east. 
 
 Calm as a mountain lake the Ocean spread 
 
 Beneath the brightness of a noon-day sun, 
 
 Yet it did seem as if the sultry air 
 
 Of Summer's heated hour u]^on its breast 
 
 Oppressive lay, and in its mighty heart, 
 
 Deep down, disturbed its slumbering forces, — stirred 
 
 To restless throbbings, as its bosom swelled 
 
 In slow pulsation, and then sank away 
 
 In strange disquietude. Encircling, arched 
 
 Sublimely o'er the azure vault of Heaven, 
 
 Upon whose royal height enthroned sat 
 
 The God of day, in dazzling glory robed. 
 
 O'er the still depths the Ship majestic moved. 
 
 As sj^ortively she scattered with her prow. 
 
 About her path — all glittering in the sun, 
 
 Unnumbered brilliants of unnumbered hues 
 
 Which she did gather from the emerald deep, 
 
 Wliile from her rolled upon the drowsy air 
 
 A long dark Hue of smoke, which sought the haze 
 
 
 Of ros 
 Upon 
 Sun-br 
 While 
 With 1 
 All me 
 Beneat 
 Reclin 
 Upon 
 The ca 
 And bi 
 Beauty 
 With id 
 In hapi 
 Others 
 Sought 
 The lin 
 With ta 
 By its s 
 While h 
 In listle 
 Aside w 
 Set in a 
 The otl 
 From n 
 As silve 
 The chc 
 Her wh 
 Her lov 
 As she. 
 Gave ej 
 Read oi 
 
57 
 
 Of roseate tint, far in the glimmering distance. 
 
 Upon her decks the " toilers of the sea," 
 
 Sun-browned in service, each his (hity sought 
 
 While in Ihe rigging some the useless sail 
 
 With busy fingers folded to the yards, 
 
 All merry hearted singing as they wrought. 
 
 Beneath an awning shading from the sun 
 
 Reclined the ocean voyagers, and there 
 
 Upon the air all merrily arose 
 
 The careless laugh — the voice of hapi)iness, 
 
 And busy tongues of little ones at i)lay. 
 
 Beauty and youth with faces bright, illumined 
 
 With love and hope, and Age with its sweet smile 
 
 In happiest intercourse assembled were. 
 
 Others apart from those thus grouped about 
 
 Sought to beguile in ([uicker ])ace away, 
 
 The lingering hours of the hot Summer's day 
 
 With tales of Fancy's i)amting ; some o'ercome 
 
 By its soporous breath in slumber lay, 
 
 While here and there one o'er the bulwarks leaned 
 
 In listless dreamings gazing o'er the wave. 
 
 Aside were two : one Beauty's prototype 
 
 Set in a frame oi fairest loveliness ; 
 
 The other Beauty's proud defender — Youth 
 
 From nature's statelier, bolder mode^, Ma)L 
 
 As silvery clouds in fleecy softness veil 
 
 The chasteness of the virgin Summer moon, 
 
 Her white attire in sweet abandon dra[)ed 
 
 Her lovely form — in nameless grace composed, 
 
 As she, reclined beside him whom she loved, 
 
 Gave ear attent as he read to her thought ; 
 
 Read of some sorrow, as expression told. 
 
 II 
 
58 
 
 ! ' 
 
 Moulding her face to swccl solicitude — 
 Of holy sympathy, throned in the heart, 
 The superscription. So her lustrous eyes, — 
 Li(iuidly brilliant as the glist'ning dew 
 Upon the newblown, trembling violet, — 
 Pearled in warm tears, did each emotion glass 
 Which that sad tale awoke within her heart. 
 — Perchance it traced love's fair, young life betrayed. 
 Blighted by dire deceit, that worm which gnaws, 
 With venomed fang, the heart whose warmth it gains 
 Lurked in love's flower, by falseness jjlanted there. 
 But this was passed and like the Sun's fresh glow 
 Of heat and light when Ai)ril showers are o'er. 
 With a soft briglitness beamed her tear-dami)ed eyes, 
 Resting on him who, ceas*ed, in their sweet depths 
 Poured from liis own love's warm responsive rays. 
 « * w * •» * * 
 
 The scene was changed : upon a rock-bound coast 
 
 1 stood, darkness had gathered over all. 
 
 'Gainst the dark sea high loomed the walling cliffs 
 
 Amid the star-lit air, their towering fronts 
 
 Stern frowning, om'nous, Warders of the Deep, 
 
 Robed in the sombre livery of night. 
 
 About their caverned base lamentingly. 
 
 The troubled waters tossed, 'neath the weird wind 
 
 Which to the night distressfully complained. 
 
 In wild and fitful gusts. Higher it rose 
 
 And 'neath it soon high-swelled and fiercely lashed 
 
 The surge in angry clamor 'gainst the cliffs. 
 
 While black impenetrable clouds rolled o'er, 
 
 Piled mass on mass, high 'mid the thickening air. 
 
 And quickly curtained with their darkened folds 
 
 The c 
 
 Xow i 
 
 Far di 
 
 Rendi 
 
 With L 
 
 Respo 
 
 Deep-j 
 
 The m 
 
 Piled I 
 
 The s] 
 
 They, 
 
 The el 
 
 Where. 
 
 Which, 
 
 Reveal 
 
 Like hi 
 
 ^"iercel; 
 
 of the 
 
 And dii 
 
 l"'rom I 
 
 In loud 
 
 And ro] 
 
 Then ei 
 
 Thunde 
 
 .\s thro 
 
 P'.ach gi 
 
 And hu 
 
 FlamiuL 
 
 Which ] 
 
 Till by 
 
 With ro 
 
 Out on 
 
I 
 
 59 
 
 'I'he ebon vault of lieaven, wliose paling lights 
 
 Xow in their misty caverns disappeared. 
 
 Far distant, from its cloud-built battlement, 
 
 Rending night's pall, the wakened Lightning j)ierced 
 
 With gleaming shaft the bosom of the Deej). 
 
 Responsive to the Storm-kings awful voice, 
 
 Deejj-swelling from afar, then opened fast 
 
 The many portals of the waUing clouds. 
 
 Piled up the empyrean height, to passage give 
 
 The spirits of the tempest. Issuing forth 
 
 They, riding on the winds, did fiercely urge 
 
 The elemental strife, most clamorous 
 
 Where, lightning led, they ranged the watery waste, 
 
 Which, thus illumed, its waves dark, serpertine 
 
 Revealed high surging in encounter wild, 
 
 Like huge J^eviathans in fury met 
 
 Fiercely contending. Now above the roar 
 
 Of the loud Sea the deepening tlunuler rose — 
 
 And died away u])on the wind, then quick 
 
 From the dark zenith of the tirmament. 
 
 In louder voice its angry mutterings broke. 
 
 And rolling downward burst into a crash. 
 
 Then every cloud, in emulation fierce, 
 
 Thundered re})ly, rending the trembling air, 
 
 .\s through the ambient darkness, inky grown, 
 
 Each gave defiant challenge to the Night, 
 
 And hushed the mighty roaring of the sea. 
 
 Maming the lightnings red-tongued licked the waves, 
 
 Which heavenward madly reared their mammoth forms, 
 
 Till by the Tempest struck back hurled they plunged 
 
 With roars defiant to their surging depths. 
 
 Out on the sea, lit by the lightnings' glare, 
 
 r 
 
-mm 
 
 60 
 
 'i| 
 
 li ill' 
 
 — Flash following Hash in wild vclocit , 
 A sill]) swei)t on before the Tempest's strength, 
 Rose with the maddened waves, sank as they sank, 
 Then in the hadean darkness disai)})eared. 
 
 « « « « 4C « '* 
 
 The fiilniincs of the storm were sj)ent, though still 
 The forces of the wind swept to the cliffs, 
 Resistless in their might, hurling the waves, 
 To fury lashed, 'gainst their black adamant, 
 As if back summoned to their cavern strengths, 
 Rebellious they in fierce resentment raged. 
 The broken clouds now hurried o'er the sky, 
 And laid their shattered masses 'neath the arch. 
 Which j)rops the southern limits of the heavens, 
 Their ragged summits by the moon illumined, 
 Which now released, in mellow brilliancy 
 Flooded the waves — to very mountains grown. 
 There laboring o'er their heights the doomed shij) 
 Rose, mastless, tottered on their giant crests, 
 Then headlong plunged to their abysmal depths 
 But rose not up again — the waves rolled o'er 
 Inexorable. * :}: * h^ 
 
 From my sleep 1 woke ; 
 Still murmuring in the sunset lay the sea. 
 
|^i^ 
 
 % 
 
 I 
 
Whci 
 
 Dc 
 
 Aw 
 
 His o 
 
 Tl^'n, 
 
 Ma 
 
 Wii 
 
 Shoul 
 
 ManV 
 
 Tlv 
 
 Eai 
 
 K'cn ' 
 
 Did h 
 
 Hi: 
 
63 
 
 Tbc PruiilLxion. 
 
 li 
 
 When on the cross hung man's great SacM-ifice 
 
 Death near ai)i)roachc(l his work to execute, 
 
 Awe-struck recoiled, in fear irresolute 
 His oftlce on his king to exercise. 
 'I'hen, bowing to lus breast his head, the Christ 
 
 Made sign to the Inij)laca])l?j that lie, 
 
 W'itliout regard to right of sovereignty, 
 Should claim the sacriticx' at which was pric'd 
 iMan's sin. Then did tlV Inexorable strike — 
 
 The tearful sun to darkness paling tied ; 
 
 Earth trembling shrank to night's embrace; the Dead, 
 F'en by that deed of their dread Prince made quick. 
 Did him defy — he had forever s[)ent 
 
 His i)Ower in striking the Omnipotent. 
 
 '4 
 
 i. 
 
 '■ * M 
 v i 
 
 \ i. 
 
64 
 
 ! 
 
 
 Mtj father. 
 
 Ke member thee, my mother ! While this breast 
 Shall guard the heart which fondly pulses there 
 That heart the memory of thy love — thy care, 
 
 Proudly shall cherish, nor till life shall rest 
 
 Cease to extol it, then but to refrain 
 A little time till in that purer land. 
 Far more befitting this all hallowed strain. 
 
 Declare thy praises still. There each bright band 
 
 Of angels list'ning to the theme, shall swell 
 It into song and each in turn improve 
 Their harps upon an equal theme, and tell 
 The wondrous stoiy of a mother's love, 
 
 — That theme which shall the sweetest songs supply, 
 
 As Memory prompts the heavenly minstrelsy ! 
 
65 
 
 Solitude. 
 
 I do love to wander by the shore ! 
 
 And watcli the restless waters of the deep, 
 
 As the night winds across its bosom sweep 
 
 Blending their wild complaining., with its roar ; 
 
 1 love to wander through the voiceless wood 
 
 As 'mid its depths the shatlowy moonlight creej)S 
 
 Where, neath the sentrying stars, tired nature sleeps 
 And Silence sits enthroned in Solitude. 
 Such scenes a deep mysterious pleasure bear, 
 
 Waking a slumbering spirit in the breast ; 
 
 And from a sleep which knows but little rest 
 To yield it raptures but experienced there. 
 Where man may learn — far from the haunts of man, 
 
 In nature's school his own defects to scan. 
 
 ■11 
 
66 
 
 M 
 
 
 4'U81C. 
 
 ^i i 
 
 I ^! 
 
 Come sacred muse naught like thy strains con-i])Ose 
 The lonLiinLi heart nor tliere can charm to rest 
 Sorrow's lament, Yet () 7C'/idi peace it knows 
 
 When thy sweet voice steals ecl.oing through the breast. 
 
 K'en as a bird which at the break of day 
 Called by its mate, joins it and soar away 
 Through purest fields of a/.ure, circling round 
 
 To some bright glade where cherished fruits abound, 
 
 My soul solicitous, at thy behest 
 
 To thy sweet realm joyously wings its tlight 
 In thy embrace there ravished with delight 
 
 Till sweetlv soothed it trembles into rest. 
 
 — All other joys the passions but control, 
 
 'Tis thou alone hath power to reach the soul. 
 
67 
 
 Li^et^ 
 
 Relentless Fate struck by thy venomed dart 
 
 Hope quivering lies, — and palsying dost thou ])ress 
 Tiiy icy hand on this despairing henrt 
 
 Congealing there all — save its bitterness. 
 Beneath thy scourge e'en willingly I've stood 
 
 Nor yet complained though sore its lashes fell, 
 While still hope's star illumined the solitude 
 
 Of disap])ointment where thou bid me dwell. 
 But now — and thou would'st bid my heart to (piench 
 
 The one sweet light which in this bosom gives 
 Hope its last ray ; and from my breast to wrench 
 
 The dear idea on which alone it lives : 
 I who have bowed, — nay hrreil thee for this bliss, 
 Remorseless Fate ! can'st thou not spare me this. 
 
 
 II 
 
'€W 
 
 illMl> 
 
 68 
 
 Balu 
 
 xvs, 
 
 Sleep bound me in the lazaret of nij^lu. 
 
 Death, wan Despair, siglitless Ambition, I.ust 
 
 There gathered in contention, 'mid the dust 
 Of crumbled liopes threw for my heart. — In sight 
 
 It lay sore bleeding, wrenched from its red seat. 
 Then love, smooth-limbed, wh.ite but for heat, there came 
 With eyes of palpitating lire, a living tiame 
 
 That fumed the crimson gouts to vapor\- heat, 
 Sweet seeming as the warm breath of desire. 
 
 Death, paling, tied; the noxious crew, dismay 
 
 Struck, Inid turned and slank away; 
 Lo\e healed my heart with kisses of sweet fire 
 
 Burned there Eternity^ named it her own — 
 * ■■'' LiLiht 'neath mv lids, — ah God I would HcatJi had won. 
 
 In that 
 
 Along tl 
 Wher 
 — Th 
 
 In sohti 
 Of ()( 
 Wher 
 
 As it CO 
 Silent 
 
 Raising 
 W'hicl 
 
 Soars fai 
 And 1( 
 In wh 
 
 NOTI 
 
 " riu' Ci 
 autiior of 
 tied "La 
 pillars of c 
 
i\' came 
 
 // had won. 
 
 69 
 
 Vletlitatian, 
 
 In tluil still hour when the dissolving da}' 
 Alonu; the sk\- fades tranciuilly awav : 
 
 When o'er the earth the glininierinLj; twilight (:reej)S 
 
 — That drowsiness wiiieh falls e'er nature sleei)s. 
 In solitude — naugh*^ save the s\ni|)hony 
 
 Of ocean wakeful, stil! I seek th\ charms. 
 
 Where naught ignoble the glad soul alarms 
 As it composed resigns itself to thee. 
 
 vSilent thou art — th}- silence elocjuence 
 Raising the soul to its inherent life. 
 
 Which, casting off its mortal instruments. 
 Soars far beyond earth's narrow scene of .^irite\ 
 
 And led by thee \'iews that immort.il state 
 
 111 which it t(;o shall soon ])articii)ile ! 
 
 Note. — Let me here say tliat t lie first seven liiie> of the Sonnet 
 "The Crucitixion,"" .ire imitated from the French of an unknown 
 author of the seventeenth century. They occur in a little poem eiiti- 
 tkid "La Mort de J('su>- Christ. ' which was found in>crihed upon the 
 [liliars of .-.n oUl church in C'herhuur;^, I'rance. 
 
 '':% it 
 
 fi li 
 
 4 i: 
 i i| 
 
^^w 
 
 It was 
 By a St 
 Stately 
 His th( 
 
 ini 
 
 Not far 
 Which I 
 And gn 
 The htl 
 
 On liis 
 I'Voni w 
 ^Vhile, 
 A tremi 
 
 ; I 
 
 > t 
 
 • :*« 
 
 •■ And V 
 ('lipid s 
 1)11 1 fea: 
 To foil 
 
 He mac 
 To an .1 
 As he b 
 And pa' 
 

 7;> 
 
 ^OVR AND piGNITY. 
 
 It was June : in a vale, as the day was declinii^j, 
 
 By a stream whicli the summer moon studdec wit!i liglu, 
 
 Stately Dignity walked, in the silence resigning 
 
 His thoughts to those things which most pleasured his sight. 
 
 Not far had he gone when he heard a dee]i sighing, 
 Which came from a cluster of roses near by, 
 And great his surprise when among them esjjying 
 The little (rod Cuj)id, who'd uttered the sigh. 
 
 On his arm he reclined, with a rose in his fmgers, 
 From which he was plucking its leaflets away, 
 ^Vhile, as a bright star on a cloud's sununit lingers. 
 A tremulous tear on his dark lashes lay. 
 
 " And what has disturbed you ? " asked Dignity kindly. 
 Cupid started and Ihittered his wings in dismay, 
 But feared, in the presence he found himself, blindly 
 To follow his feelings and scam])er away. 
 
 He made no reply, simj^ly pointed before him 
 
 To an arrow all shattered, the source of his woe. 
 
 As he bit those sweet lii)s for which women adore him. 
 
 And patted his bare little leg with his bow. 
 
74 
 
 *' Indeed, and is that it? Just as I expected. 
 
 It would seem you've not done as instructed." '* Tis true." 
 
 *' Precisely, now had you done as I directed — " 
 
 " You would say, I'd not iiad this misfortune to rue." 
 
 1 j^^, 
 
 '-'1 
 
 "This once," Love continued, ''good Dignity, si)are me," 
 Looking up in his face with a suppliant smile, 
 "Just come here to-morrow at this hour, and hear me 
 Recount my success with my Beauty meanwhile." 
 
 " Most gladly I will ; then good-night, — but rememberr 
 *' Never fear." Love re])lied, as he mounted in tlight. 
 With his wings rustling, soft as leaves fanned by a zephyr, 
 He rose on a moon -beam, and passed out of sight. 
 
 Next eve to the spot, ere the Sun had ceased shining, 
 Came Dignity, — 'twas one he long had loved best, — 
 And there, on a bed of chaste blossoms reclining. 
 He beheld Beauty, fondling a rose on her breast. 
 
 Quick, with rapturing pulsation, his heart beat, but hearing 
 A sound as of Love's half suppressed voice near by. 
 He concealed his emotion ; then to her appearing. 
 He approached, as upon him she smiled graciously. 
 
 Love had led her hither ; and now, near her hiding, 
 'Mid the blossomed-Haked foliage, as Dignity came, 
 He sped a bright arrowed, tlanie-tipped, which dividing 
 His heart, kindled there its wild, exquisite flame. 
 
 Thus struck, beside Beauty he fell, — to her pleaded 
 To dr.Mv from his bosom the still flaminof dart • 
 
i! 
 
 'is true. 
 
 e me, 
 
 we 
 
 r »» 
 
 t, 
 ephyr, 
 
 g- 
 
 75 
 
 She, while soothing the wound, saw but Love e'er could 
 
 heal it, 
 The arrow was buried so deep in his lieart ! 
 
 Then, in tliglit, Cupid cried, " Dignity, I regret i 
 Have ////V^vv/ you, as now I've no time to wait, for 
 My quiver is empty ; I did not forget you, 
 Believe me ; good-night, I am off to get more — 
 
 Then his voice, having waked Philomel, 'neath her numbers 
 
 Swelling soft in response, melted faintly away. 
 
 While the tlowers his warm wings had kissed from their 
 
 slumbers, 
 On the yet wooing sunbeams, si)ent their sweets wantonly. 
 
 — Soon 'twas clear, from the manner of Beauty in pressing 
 Her hand 'gainst her breast, ([uickly palpitating, 
 Love had there sent an arrow; — the rogue when professing 
 His cpiiver empty, had his darts 'neath his wing ! 
 
 i 1 
 
 learmg 
 
 Jig 
 
11 
 
 M.USIC AND M.EMORY. 
 
 i| 
 
 I 
 
 Music once wandering through the lieart, 
 
 As dayhght died away, 
 Founil Memory sleeping by a tomb 
 
 i'ast falHng to decay. 
 
 Whispering, she touched the sUunberer, 
 
 Soft as the ]>ale moon -beam 
 The folded tlower, then i)assed away 
 
 As vanishes a dream. 
 
 Memory awoke, and Hstening heard 
 
 The rusthng wings go by, 
 Then weeping viewed where she had slept 
 
 And O, how bitterly 1 
 
 liiit ah. those tears were sacred, 
 
 And the flowers which there droo})ed lay, 
 Beneath their sweet refresiiment liloomed 
 
 And beautified decay. 
 
 And now no greener spot is there, 
 
 For Memory loves to twine 
 The richest verdure of the heart 
 
 Around that sacred shrine. 
 
77 
 
 I- 
 
 I N E S. 
 
 Written upon 7'isitinj^ the National Cemetery^ Arlin^n^ton^ 
 
 la , 7v}iere are buried the remains ^7/40,000 Union sohiievs^ 
 
 their i^raves for the most part hein^i^' marked l>\' a plaitf 
 
 ic'hite Inninl^ many of whicli bear the simple inscription " Cn- 
 
 hno7i.ni soldier!' 
 
 r») those who " have some friend or brother there." 
 
 !, 
 
 ill 
 
 Ye patriot dead! o'er your sleep of devotion 
 
 Shines the meteor of conquest, while wrapped in death's 
 night 
 Ve rest by that stream — winding down to the ocean, 
 
 Which beheld ye go forth in the pride of yoin- might. 
 
 P)right that meteor illumines the shades which enfold ye, 
 Reflecjng your glory — which brightens its ray — 
 
 In the hearts which forever with pride shall behold ye 
 Through ages to come, as through years ])assed away. 
 
 i 
 
 
 And can it then be that '" unk)unvn'' ye are sleeping 
 By the scenes of your glory, so valiantly trod ; 
 
 Can a nation forget that the fruits she is reaping 
 
 Were sown with your lives and refreshed with your blood '^ 
 
78 
 
 Ve are known : by the hearts which your absence sore 
 rending, 
 
 Your valor remembering their anguish consumes ; 
 By the tears of a Nation which o'er ye descending 
 
 Refresh the sweet flowers which wave o'er your tombs. 
 
 Thus not here where the bleak wind in rude lamentation 
 
 Comi)lainingly wanders amid the sad pine 
 Are ye tombed, but your graves the "tvarm hearts of a nation, 
 
 Where evergreen blooming love's memories twine. 
 
 No more shall the thunder of battle elate ye ; 
 
 No more shall the trumpet of victory thrill, 
 Till the last trumpet's sound which forever shall wake ye 
 
 To herald ye onward to victory still 
 
 I I 
 
79 
 
 / y 
 
 ISION. 
 
 A fragment of a projected allegoneal poon ^^ /.ore 
 
 ami Wealthr 
 
 \ 
 
 " J'etais seal pres (ie-ifl(its ])a^ uii iiiuiL^e auz cieux, Mir les nier> jias de 
 voiles, nies yeu\ plongeaienl plus loin que le monde ri'el "' 
 
 — \ 'i((<'r II ii^o. 
 
 I had a dream wlierein it seemed to me 
 
 I stood alone at daybreak, by a sea 
 
 Amid whose waves I saw a'"* island rise 
 
 — A gem of beauty, 'gainst the azure skies 
 
 But Httle ort", and though around me seeiiiCd 
 
 Night's shadows still, a heavenly briglitness beamed 
 
 Upon the isle. PVom its luxuriant shade 
 
 Sloj^ed to the wave a strand, (jf crystals made ; 
 
 — A radiant belt of scintillating light 
 
 Which richly si)arkled, as faded the night 
 
 Along the sea, and as I gazed methought 
 
 I was translatetl to this beauteous spot. 
 
 On a hill-side 1 stood bedecked in blue 
 
 Of violets glist'ning 'neath i)early dew, 
 
 As the light dawning o'er a flowery rise 
 
 With softest shade tinted the lilac skies. 
 
 Now gilding the dense foliage of the si)ot 
 
 The risen sun resplendent glory brought, 
 
 n 
 
8o 
 
 As stately palms put on their richest hue 
 And iiidden flowers broke upon the view, 
 Waked by the breeze which, fraught with spicy scent, 
 With babbling streamlets murmured of content, 
 While countless songsters decked in varied coats 
 Greeted each other with their mellow notes. 
 Of former scenes 1 seemed to have no thought 
 — Scarce a remembrance, as entranced I sought 
 With wandering stej) each scene with beauty spread j 
 
 \ 
 
 Of hill and dale in richest verdure clad, 
 Where tloral sweets and fruits luxuriant swayed; 
 Now cr(jssing gurgling brooks of ])urest run 
 Which swcetlv (^aroled in the wondrous sun ; 
 Xow lost 'mid groves of royal fruits ne'er told 
 — l\nlraiiced, bewildered at this scene of gold. 
 
 T now beheld a sjjot more perfect yet, 
 
 — If e'er jjerfection with itself hath met, 
 
 It rose from out a plain with gentle slo[)e, 
 
 A moimt of blossoms to its palm-crowned top. 
 
 O'er-ranged with shades With tloral wreaths entwined. 
 
 Cradling their foliage on the fragrant wind. 
 
 Toward this I turned that from its briglit ascent 
 
 I might survey its sununit and extent, 
 
 From which — ^soon reached, I viewed the landscape c er 
 
 (Jn either side : from further shore to shore, 
 
 And thence beheld, o'er many a verdured rise, 
 
 The waters stretch to meet the arching skies, 
 
 As toward the isle tlie restless billows rolled, 
 
 'J'heir tossing crents enfringed with tints of gold, 
 
 From the declining sun, whicii row to slee]) 
 
 111 wearied sj)lendor sank into the deep. 
 
 ;l r 
 
8i 
 
 But the bright moon far up the eastern height 
 
 Dispelled the shades of the attendant night. 
 
 As thick and fast her silvery arrows fiew 
 
 Piercing the foliage, while her brightness threw 
 
 Light upon all around, and now revealed 
 
 A lake before by its rich shades concealed. 
 
 In a still vale it slept sentried around 
 
 By wooded hills, and sweetly came the sound 
 
 Of falling water from the wandering rills 
 
 Which left their course among the neighboring hills 
 
 To seek its j)laci() bosom. 
 
 Now reclined 
 Near the lake's edge exhausted I resigned 
 Myseif to sleep. I had not thus remained 
 A moment seemingly but had regained 
 My strength anew, when suddenly 1 woke 
 As on my ear the sound of f()otstei)S broke. 
 And in the foliage which aboiU me grew 
 1 saw a figure disappear from view. 
 Breathless 1 listened, but there came no sound 
 Save t "le soft gurgling of the falls beyond 
 Bright in the m, onlight, — then sweet symphonies 
 Of music rose and died Uj)on the breeze. 
 
 Then bv the light of the full risen moon 
 I saw beneath me drawn u|) from the tide 
 A little bark from purest coral hewn 
 Of an exquisite model, from its side 
 A silver oar, most delicately made, 
 nrooj)ed in the wave all dripjiing as it lay, 
 And tiu\- footsteps which the sand displa\-ed 
 Declared its mistress was not far away. 
 
83 
 
 Quick to my teet I sprang for there, O Venus I 
 
 What a transporting sight ravished my eyes, 
 
 A being not unhke our native genus, 
 
 — As far as known from our authorities — 
 
 Before me stood, in dress not here the fashion, 
 
 A Jiabitatitc of this enchant'^'d clime, 
 
 \'et as it proved this most seductive passion. 
 
 In her gave place to one far more sublime. 
 
 „-l!f' 
 
 Her feet in ribboned sandals were attired 
 And — let me see, she wore her dignity 
 Though to be brief her dress could be admired 
 For nothing but its strict economy. 
 Liquidly brilliant were her lustrous eyes 
 Like donna Julia's of Byronic fame. 
 Reflecting those mysterious sympathies 
 Love calls to life and else can ne'er proclaim. 
 
 Her wealth of hair was rolled into a — 
 I scarcely know its delicate techni'uie. 
 Let each one name it what they wili. I wist 
 A goodly number know of what I speak — 
 And there was born in her sweet eyes a soul 
 Which she becpieathed me and I lived anew, 
 And when she sweetly smiled, with full control 
 Tiiat second life to full i)erfection grew. 
 
 She leaned au;aiast lier little craft whiv.'i hid 
 Its coral ti'it in the delicious glow 
 Of her soft charms, and as the bright moon shed 
 its tloud of l>rilliancy on her fair brow 
 
XV. •^■•^- 
 
 And in its chrisnial shower batiied lier swcLt form, 
 Raptured I stood. Then in a voice wliicli spoke 
 Enchantment, and sweet peace unto the storm 
 Within my breast, thus she the silence broke : 
 
 " Know'st tliou this land, C" hast thou ne'er before 
 I'-xplored its sweets — its ever cloudless skies ; 
 Ne'er known the pleasures of yon further shore 
 Where now thou hear'st those strains of mu^ic lise 
 L [)on the fragrant air ? thence have I come, 
 Where yonder lights are Hashing o'er the scene, 
 "ris my abode and the luxurious home 
 Of mirth and pleasure — I alone its (jueen." 
 
 \\ 
 
 :( 
 
 "■ (ioddess of love," I spoke, approached a pace, 
 — '• And then \ou know me," (piickly she replied. 
 •' Ah beauteous queen, who may behold thy face 
 N(jr know 'tis love and beauty glorified. 
 This is thy land, fair \'enus — this bright sphere 
 The land of Love and yonder restless sea 
 The sea of Time ; these symphonies I hear 
 The joyous sounds of love's glad minstrelsy." 
 
 '■\\'ell pleased am I to see thee thus disj)lay 
 A knowledge of this land not all i)Ossess, 
 And oft' possessing blindly turn away 
 To yonder isles adjacent. — Hapj)iness 
 I'oregoing for the gain they madly weigh 
 Against ////> wealth which man alone can bless, 
 \nd for the joy they \ainly hope t' attain 
 Renor,"!^ .. .!. peace they ne'er can know again," 
 
 I ; 
 
84 
 
 '' Such are the isles of worldly avarice 
 Where pom]) is life and gold man's only aim, 
 How all excelling this true happiness, 
 Where life is ^rr— love th.at celestial tianie 
 Which on the height of great Olympus is 
 'rhat living fire— of heaven the light supreme, 
 Which daring mortal pillaged from the sky, 
 Revealing to man the secret of Heaven's joy. 
 
 Wealth boasting all no happiness can shed 
 Where love is not, but is a nothingness ; 
 A lifeless frame from which the soul is fled ; 
 A death whicli hath a form of loveliness. 
 Like yon pale orb so brilliant yet all dead 
 Where silence broods in each dark bleak recess 
 Radiant it sliines all dazzling to behold ; 
 A siudit of Ivjauty but how deathly cold ! " 
 
 iv- 
 
85 
 
 , ' ^• f^^ 
 
 ^, 
 
 UAND MeME 
 
 y 
 
 How shall I i)aint thy beauties ; how relate 
 Thy virtues ? words to compass them so fail ; 
 Thy graces — to the cadence of tliy feet, 
 Make cunning Speech its poverty reveal ! 
 IVo, this rude herald shall not desecrate 
 The temple of thy lorm : the graces tell 
 Of its fair Prit-stess, matchless ! — 'twould but be 
 To subject them t' rude incredulity ! 
 
 I will not say celestial music's strain 
 
 More richly pours since 1 have known thy love ; 
 I will not say fair Dian with her train. 
 
 Of stars refulgent in their course above 
 Now brighter shine : and yet each sweet refrain 
 
 Harmonious ; \on l)right orbs — a// things now prove 
 Sources o{' joy undrcanU, and to love yield 
 Rich springs of beauty ne'er before revealed. 
 
 So, as the rising moon with her chaste light 
 Doth robe the stars in a new brilliancy, 
 
 Raising all sunk in darkness by the night 
 To know the glory of her majesty : 
 
 Now shall thy love impart a new delight 
 To every joy, and life's ambitions be 
 
86 
 
 Kxalted to a holier aim, a)id yet, 
 
 — May, thy sweet eyes rebuke that thouglit— /c'ri,v/. 
 
 E'er thus to sight^ as thought, doth love impart. 
 
 By its mysterious force, higher virtue 
 Supernal, giving all things to the heart, 
 
 By vision there revealed, an aspect new ; 
 Cl(Ahed in fresh beauty all ; beauty no art 
 
 Hath cunning to resolve, while that we knew 
 Before as hai)piness now doth but seem 
 Like pleasures waking buries in a dream ! 
 
 Thou hast e'en waked me ; changed to i)urest day 
 The darkness of the past — appearing now 
 How dark ! as bathed in this new brilliancy 
 A World of beauty burst upon the view ! 
 And circling round, as doth the earth the sky. 
 Love doth encompass this creation new, 
 Of whi'-ii thou Lirt the (Jueen, as I would be — 
 Nay, thou hast crowned me Consort unto thee ! 
 
 'Hirough the soft night, star-studded, of thine eyes, 
 As in the clouds where silent lightnings play, 
 Proudly 1 watch love's sacred fires arise 
 From the altar thy heart hath built to me, 
 And there shall love joyously sacrifice 
 Tliat self it hath bound captive, for to thee. 
 Who hath enthroned its power in my breast, 
 Twonld consecrate the life thou thus hast blest. 
 
87 
 
 A 
 
 D I E U 
 
 Adieu but not farewell — ah couUl we know 
 
 The night which waits on that wild word, 'twould seem 
 
 Adieu were but a })assing cloud — a dream 
 
 A momeiitary darkness but to show 
 
 How clear the light succeeding. Thus we deem 
 
 Lo\e e'en may borrow shadows to dis])lay, 
 
 When drawn the veil, how bright that rarest gem. 
 
 In its rich tiara, pure confidence. 
 
 Does glitter in its jewelled diadem, 
 
 With hope's bright ray — twin meteors which dispense 
 
 Within the soul their beams of heavenly day, 
 
 Where angel hands have rolled the stone away. 
 
 Sweet love, adieu, when thou when I am gone 
 With memory seek'st each love-remembered sj)ot, 
 Start not if when thou deenvst thyself alone 
 A presence name thee, thou thou see'st it not. 
 
 Its fond, sad voice shall breathe to thee of him 
 Whose heart, from thee, can know no ])ulse of joy 
 And when thou hear'st do thou return love's name 
 And it shall make thee answer it is I. 
 
s.s 
 
 For as the spirit of the stars in\est 
 
 The bosom of the ever wakeful sea, 
 'i'hoiigh far removed, so shall love's spirit rest 
 
 By its dear shrine, though I am far from thee. 
 
 And when thou view'st these warders of the night 
 With their watch-fires illume the (juiet sky, 
 Hethink thee that those fires changelessly bright. 
 Image the love this bosom bears for thee. 
 
 There is a cord deep lying in the heart 
 Which ne'er responds save to the spirit thrill 
 Lo\'e's absence wakes, — yet O what scd, sweet strains 
 In that awakening d(j the bosom fill. 
 
 Amid the inner chambers of the soul 
 
 Its sad- "divinely plaintive, harmonies 
 l^choing steal till 'neath their sweet control 
 
 The longiiig heart in ([uiet rapture lies. 
 
 Now to thy voice, by gracious Fancy brought. 
 Vibrates that cord within this anxious heart, 
 
 And wakes a joy with such sweet sorrow fraught 
 Tliat joy were less were sorrow to depart. 
 
 So, absent, would I wake, in thy sweet breast 
 
 A pulse for each which tlirills this heart of mine ; 
 
 That heart which deems itself, how richly blest 
 When e'er it brings one happiness to thine. 
 
 Remember me — let not the lamp of thought 
 
 Which lights the shrine that holds my image fail ; 
 And in thy prayers do thou neglect it not 
 — E'en there its beams celestial shall prevail. 
 
89 
 
 Rcncniber tJiee ! and wither may / lly 
 
 And find thy image trom my bosom riven ; 
 Thy dear idea attends where'er I be, 
 — E'en in my prayers it leads my thoughts from Heaven. 
 
 Yet once again, sweet Love, remember me 
 
 As one whose soul makes tiiee its one idol ; 
 And O, how deej) that soul's oftence nuist be 
 If 'tis a crime on earth to love too well. 
 
 s 
 
 (lood-night, tarewell ; farewell, aii, how doth love 
 
 Against that word, next feared to ileath^ rebel ; 
 Nay, more than death that to this heart should prove. 
 And death thrice sweet the hour that brings /cr/rrir//. 
 
 Jn ]A. 
 
 E M O R 1 A M . 
 
 I Stood alone on the pebbled beach 
 
 As the moon rose over the sea, 
 
 And the doleful break of the restless waves 
 
 Brought sad memories to me. 
 
 I saw o'er the path which the moon-beams traced 
 A ship pass into the niglit : 
 'I'hough it hurried by ere I 'd viewed it well, 
 1 can never forget that sight. 
 
 K'en thus, I thought, on litre's path appear 
 Sweet faces a moment seen, 
 Then dead to us : — a grave in the heart 
 Which memory keeps ever green. 
 
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 90 
 
 [He Moon 
 
 Tlioii orl) sublime '. that from the houiidlcss sk\ 
 Dost moN'c the S()inl)ro shadows of the nii;ht. 
 
 To t1()0(l the world in mellow brilliancy, 
 That calmlv so(jth''s vet ravishes the si'dit. 
 
 Now as thv beams invade mv (lumber's ^loom 
 Aiid slovvl}- wake the slumbering shadows there, 
 
 What drear abodes of miserv thev illume 
 Where all is lied save anguish and despair; 
 
 What thoughts disturl) the lonely convict's heart. 
 
 .\s now he views thee from his ironed cell, 
 Of (diildhood's scenes — of cherished hojjcs depart. 
 
 Which he remembers — -ah, too sadly well. 
 
 Me feels thy beams, which now his i)rison search. 
 
 i.ook on I scene which memory weeps to trace : 
 — A lowly grave behind the \illage church 
 
 Of her who sank beneath a ( hild's disgrace. 
 
 What great variety of scenes untold 
 
 Hast thou beheld — what mighty emj)ires sway, 
 
 .\s through unnumbered ages thou hast rolled 
 
 As now thou roll'st unchanged, — yet wiiere are they; 
 
91 
 
 \\here now is haughty I^abvlonia's iiii-ht 
 Which madly dared Omnii)otence deride? 
 
 — For thou hast too iliuniiued lier guilty site 
 As now the plain which senulchres her pride. 
 
 So shall thy beams before another sun 
 Look on the walls of crumbling i\jmpeii, 
 
 And from the heights of silent Lebanon 
 Flood the still waves of holy Cialilee. 
 
 Infmite theme. -() thrice infmite (Jod : 
 
 Whose hand directs e'en as his hand luitli made, 
 
 \\ ho shall presume to limit his al»odc 
 
 Or count the wonders of his woiks disi)layed .^ 
 
 —Adieu sweet moon, fast fading from the sight, 
 Low in the u-est,— Vet once again good night. 
 
 ! i 
 
w? 
 
 92 
 
 Ch'jrch Litany, 
 
 [ I t'tsi/ti'iL) 
 
 (1()(1 tlie King of Heaven thou ! 
 Ik'fore thy throne we sinners l)o\v, 
 ( )ur sins with mercy look iijjon 
 lor Jesu's sake thine only Son. 
 
 ( ) Ciod the Son, Redeemer we 
 Inworthy sinners look to thee ; 
 Thy mercy — thou once sorrow knew, 
 To us most miserable show. 
 
 O (rod, (neat Spirit. Holy One! 
 Proceeding from the I*'ather Son, 
 In prayer our souls we lift to Thee 
 To us a strong defender he. 
 
 () Father, Son, and Spirit three 
 One blest and glorious Tiinity ! 
 Look down in mercy as we bend, 
 To us thy timely succor lend. 
 
93 
 
 Remember not, O (;ra( ions Co,! ! 
 Our paths nor those our fathers trod, 
 Sj.are us, hy thy most precious Mood 
 O. spare us from thy veiii^eful Hood. 
 
 From evil mischief and all sin ; 
 I'Vom Satan's crafts without, within; 
 l-'rom thy just wratli. eternal ni^ht 
 I'rotect us by thy AJercy's nn'ght. 
 
 I>y Th) Ifoly Incarnation ; 
 'I'hy l)ai»tism, fast, temptation ; 
 15y Thy memory of Thy I)i,-t|, . 
 '')• Thy agony of earth ; 
 
 J'V Th;- '.ain, 'I'hy l^loody sweal ; 
 Hy Thy cross— Thy Passion, death ; 
 By Thy dread sepulchral sleep; 
 By Thy love— Thy mercy deep. 
 
 By Thy Resurrection shown ; 
 Thy Ascension to Thy Throne ; 
 % Thy Holy Spirit's sway. 
 (> Christ, deliver us, we prav. 
 
 When tossed upon life's troubled sea ; 
 In all the world's prosperity ; 
 In death's dark hour— the Judgment Day 
 () Christ ! deliver us, we pray. 
 
94 
 
 Thai it may i)lcasc Thee in Thy love 
 ( )iit Sovereign's heart to wisdom move ; 
 May slie in Jesu's strength jjiit on 
 AtfiaiK e liave in Tliee alone. 
 
 Thou Ili'aven's enthroned whose blooil was shei 
 That we might live though 'I'hou wert dead, 
 Sutter us not in life's last breath 
 To sink to an eternal death. 
 
 () Land) of (lod ! how dark the night. 
 Which 'I'hine own love hath made so bright ; 
 Through lite, in death be thou the way 
 Which leads us to eternal day. 
 
 Sweet |^ l o w e p^. 
 
 Sweet tlower and must thy beauty fade 
 Though born but yesterday ; 
 
 Scarce one short day of lite, and now 
 Thou hasten'st to tlecay ? " 
 
 '' 'I'rue, brief is my abiding here " 
 Replied the tlower, " and yet 
 If Ivarth be sweeter for n.y life 
 I know not of regret." 
 
''5 
 
 Jo J^Y p 
 
 ! RD 
 
 W 
 
 lio tiisliionL'il thy c.\(|uisii 
 'riioii little cl'Of son^r • ii 
 Of ,^racc, what wonciroiis 
 TJk- fabric wove of thv chaste 1 
 
 e sxMimetrv 
 
 lou j)arag()n 
 cunnin-r artisan 
 
 ivcry 
 
 ^Vh.ll lianil the delicate mad 
 
 Which thu 
 
 iiiierv ( ast 
 
 s tiiy wings so niarx dously p/opel 
 
 \Vho in thy tiny frame its f 
 
 orces j)lace(I, 
 
 And made them thus ol)e(h'enl to thv will 
 
 What hast tl 
 
 i"u in that little throat ot" tl 
 
 Which trills such notes of dul 
 
 ime 
 
 Who taught thee tl 
 
 <et purity 
 
 'i 
 
 HIS m mmstrelsv divin 
 
 <) pour thy song in rhvthmic h 
 
 irmony ? 
 
 Perch 
 
 ance it was, in thine 
 
 'I'he purling brook, the v 
 
 Wh 
 
 ere now 
 
 thy fell 
 
 own native shades, 
 oices of the woodj 
 
 ovvs in the flowery glades 
 
 Awake to song the island solitud 
 
 es. 
 

 liiil these thou ne'er hast known, -ilien 'twas thy sire 
 I'nned thy sweet voice? — nay, loud tliy numbers tell, 
 
 In praises rising softly, swcv.tly higher, 
 
 'Twas nature's (lod that fashioned thee so well. 
 
 Would I could tell thee how I love thy song ; 
 
 How dear to me, my pretty one, thou art : 
 \N'h\- dost thou llv me ? — 1 l)Ut fondlv U)ng 
 
 With kindliest hand to lay thee to ni) heart. 
 
 How hapi)ily would'sl thou lie uj)on this breast 
 
 Did'st thou but know how warms my heart to thee, 
 
 N'el nestling there, in thy swe^'t eyes' unrest 
 I'ained I bi'hold thou 'dst irladlv llv from me. 
 
 Thou can'st not imderstand by words I know. 
 Hut love hath many voices and for thee 
 
 Nature has surely purposed one, and so 
 
 I am content tiiat Tim-j should teach it me. 
 
97 
 
 A f 
 
 RAGMENT. 
 
 In death thou slecp'st, thrice blest immunity ! 
 
 Life's ills to change for immortality; 
 
 A stranger here, thy soul in glad release 
 
 Has sought the regions of eternal peace. 
 
 What though thy dust supjjorts the lowly sod 
 
 — Earth's fmal task, — thy soul is with thy dod ; 
 
 Though cold and dark may seem thy earthly bed. 
 
 It holds but dust, thy ransomed spirit fled 
 
 To those bright sh.ores where, welcomed by the bless'd, 
 
 It knows the fullness of its Saviour's rest. 
 
 Herein where death aspires to victory, 
 
 It gives the soul a perfect liberty — 
 
 The grave, which e'er to crusii the soul has striven, 
 
 Proving the j)ortal to the courts of heaven. 
 
 Sj)ring comes again, but what to thee is spring.-* 
 
 Thou may'st not hear the birds wliich o'er thee sing. 
 
 Nor see the llowcr^ whicli come from thy decay 
 
 Bedeck thy tomb, and thus their debt rei)ay. 
 
 The sentrying pines sigh in tiie night wind's gust, 
 
 Spreading tlieir roots to mingle with tb.y dust. 
 
 Seeming to chant thy slumber's lullab\'. 
 
 Yet wherefore this ? thou sleep'st unwakingly, 
 
 Until the morning of t)ie resurrection break, 
 
 When death itself shall sleep, no more to wake .' 
 
0« 
 
 M 
 
 A T 
 
 HOUGHT. 
 
 I \vat<hccl a rose in Autumn dro]) away, 
 Its crimson ri( hncss leaf hy Icatlct fade, 
 
 And sadly gazing tliought may tlius ilcray 
 .Su( h l)eauty bear to its unwholesome shade? 
 
 I sought in vain the glisten of the dew 
 
 rpon the blossoms, on the verdured lawn : 
 
 Shivering the flowers their leallets closer drew 
 'Neath the chill breath of the October dawn. 
 
 The spiri' o\ the tlower, the hre, methought. 
 
 Which kindles in the dew thus lied must pass 
 To some bright sphere, and straight my Fancy sought 
 
 To trace a spot worthy such loveliness. 
 
 To Phosphor:}: floating in her sea of light, 
 An isle of glory ; to the enchanted spliere 
 
 Arched by the Iris ; to each star its tlight 
 Did fancy wing— succe:>sless voyager \ 
 
 X The Muii;in^ Sl.ii. 
 
 v* 
 
 r 
 
^ stoo.l .imid a srcnc of festal joy 
 
 I>a//lingly briglit, suect music' wooed tlic air. 
 And cra.llcd in its soft embrace Ik-auty 
 
 U'liicli trembled to behold itself so fair. 
 
 '^lien love exulting cried : •' that fit repose 
 Hy fancy sought e'en here all radiant view r 
 
 In Heauty's cheek immortal blooms the rose ; 
 In Heauty's eyes the fires born in the deu ! " 
 
 v» 
 
lOO 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 |_ovE IN /Absence. 
 
 Kn r\ amor hi ;uim .ncia e^ o.mo el aire, -lue ai.a^a .1 lufgn chko e 
 fiu iciKle fl ^raiKlf Siani-h proverb. 
 
 A little tire 
 
 Does soon exjnre 
 'Neath the wind's agitation, 
 
 While neath the same 
 
 A greater tlame 
 Becomes a ontlagration. 
 
 And so in love , 
 
 Does absence prove 
 
 
 — A little tire o'erturnin 
 
 But when the breast 
 Love's flames inTcs/ 
 
 It sets them wildly burning. 
 
lOI 
 
 [-INLS IN MISI fiLBUM. 
 
 J^'n illKO e 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 As oft' beneath the churchyard's (juiet shade 
 
 We wander inusin<; at the close of day, 
 And mark the sadd'ning records telling there 
 Of fondest friendships which have passed away : 
 So in life's evening when thine eyes shall stray 
 Atnid these pages, to thy memory dear. 
 Know thou this Av// rests /;/ tnemoriam 
 To friendship's tribute which I offer liert\ 
 
 'IT IK SAMK. 
 
 Far in the aftertime when years have fled 
 
 And thou dost weep o'er cherished friendships dead, 
 
 O may thy tears refresh that sacred spot 
 
 Where fading droops the sweet '•forget-me-not." 
 
 i 
 
 TFIK SAMK. 
 
 Spotless this page where now my verse I place 
 ~-T\\t purer record of thy life e'en thus : 
 
 Would that as here Friendship I fondly trace, 
 I there might grave Unfaiiiug happiness. 
 
I02 
 
 thp: samk. 
 
 Dear girl of all the darling tlowers 
 
 That bloom along the way, 
 iieneath thy love which makes their lite 
 
 Thine eyes which make their day, 
 Turn m some moments to regard 
 
 in tiiis secluded spot 
 Tile h'itf I offer friendshi]) here 
 
 I'Vom the forget-me-not. 
 
 THK SAME. 
 
 When nature wakes or slumbers; 
 When distant far from thee, 
 Among remembered numbers 
 Ne m'oublie/ pas, je prie. 
 
 . 
 
 'i 
 
 Imitated from the French. 
 
 If thou would'st love one whom I love, 
 
 Thyself must thou adore. 
 How deeply, would that 1 might inox e 
 
 To thee, — love could no more. 
 
 I 
 
r 
 
 lO 
 
 |_OVE TO THE MlF^KOP, 
 
 Since all my darts in \ain assail her l)rcast, 
 Show thou to her the charms tor whicli I si;4!i, 
 
 That wooed thy l)eaiity slie entranced may ga/e 
 And, like Narcissus, self-enamored die. 
 
 I 
 
 ' 
 
 E p 
 
 I ( . R A M S , 
 
 His last debt he has paid — |)0()r Clark '^ no more 
 Last debt : ])ray when diil he pay one before ? 
 
 Melissi says she hates a tlatterer— 
 'twould seem, 
 'Hien I am wrong in charging her 
 
 with '('// cst('('i/i .' 
 
I04 
 
 f 
 
 RIENDSHIP. 
 
 How sweet to find the heart by Friendship proved, 
 'I'hrough years of absence still remain unmoved ; 
 To find tlie shades of cliangefiil years have ne'er 
 Shadowed the image love enshrined there. 
 
 'riuis o'er the ever widening stream of Time ; 
 From on the shore of some tar distant clime, 
 IIow sweet to hear those voices loved before, 
 Call on our name from off the further shore. 
 
 And oh how sweet when friendshii)S all have tlown, 
 '["o fmd oiie heart we still can call our own : 
 'Tis sure the Angels here the stone unroll, 
 So heavenly bright the beams which Hood the soul. 
 
/ 
 
 lOi 
 
 YfHEN fiRST I JArT JhEE. 
 
 // 
 
 When first J met thee I had thouuht 
 
 Love from my heart his flight had ta'eii ; 
 
 Xor dreamed he there liad hidden aiiiiht 
 To tempt him to return again. 
 
 But ah : thy starry eyes illumed 
 My heart's inmost recesses, where 
 
 The sweetest (lowers profusely bloomed 
 Which I had never dreamt were there. 
 
 J>ove's choicest sweets — they ne'er had known 
 The light of other eyes than thine ; 
 
 W'ith which chaste offerings all thine own. 
 He bids me yield this heart of mine. 
 
 For now a little desjjot he, 
 
 'Mid richest blooms, there reigns supreme. 
 And wakes to song sweet Pih'sit\ 
 
 Who joyous syllables thy name. 
 
 Then fairest one, that I may live 
 
 To know these sweets revealed by thee. 
 
 Return the heart I freel)' give. 
 And yield thine own in turn t(j me. 
 
ZTi.'^. 3<j:^4— Au. O* Ai^KM 
 
 IC 
 
 ? 
 
 O N G 
 
 Sweet bird of spring, I greet thee 
 Though thou sorrow bring'st to me, 
 As glad as are the numbers 
 Of ihy sweet minstrelsy ; 
 Thy presence wakes sad memories 
 Of the love I lost with thee. 
 Till I scarce can bear the anguish 
 Of the thoughts that rise in me. 
 
 <i 
 
 With ihee, the tlowers gray Autunm 
 Laid in Earth's snow-white breast 
 Return, but he may ne'er come back 
 Whom / laid there to rest ; 
 And so, e'en to thy hapi)y song--- 
 Too brief for joy before, 
 Must sorrow's voice within my heart 
 Lament forevermore. 
 
 i 
 
■ 
 
 10? 
 
 Jo pELISK. 
 
 r love to look into thine eyes, 
 The windows of the soul, 
 Where scintillate in lettered li<rht 
 Sweet truths words ne'er control, 
 
 I love to look into thine eyes 
 —Sweet springs which sparkling o'er 
 Life's arid plain, a verdure bring 
 There never known before. 
 
 I love to look into thine eyes, 
 Where virtues mirrored are ; 
 Virtues which modesty would hide 
 By truth revealed there. 
 
MRRA'IA 'I'M'OCRAIMIKA : — 
 
 
 
 No. of 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 Pai^^e 
 
 Line 
 
 word 
 
 KtM.i> 
 
 i Should l)f 
 
 
 
 
 28 
 
 5 
 
 lan<^nii(l 
 
 li'iuid 
 
 
 7 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 freshing 
 
 , fresh<7/ing 
 
 
 '4 
 
 I 
 
 5 
 
 sfaggering 
 
 strugghng 
 
 
 1 6 
 
 iS 
 
 2 
 
 wonders 
 
 Woriiifr 
 
 
 I'j 
 
 '9 
 
 8 
 
 vision 
 
 . vision.v. 
 
 
 ^4 
 
 29 
 
 3 
 
 tlirough 
 
 though 
 
 
 25 
 
 
 5 
 
 that 
 
 the'//" 
 
 
 26 
 
 I 
 
 6 
 
 breast 
 
 brea li 
 
 
 26 
 
 13 
 
 3 
 
 of 
 
 (I hyphen. 
 
 
 ^7 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 was 
 
 is 
 
 
 >?o 
 
 / 
 
 last 
 
 sicle>>- 
 
 side. 
 
 
 34 
 
 r6 
 
 5 
 
 too 
 
 . to 
 
 
 34 
 
 30 
 
 1 
 
 presse// 
 
 \ presse^- 
 
 -- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 For Imes 6 to lo, division vii, page 27. please substitute 
 the following : 
 
 Till winding 'twixt a chasmed rock, it seemed 
 To seek repose 'neath the o'ershadowing height,-- 
 Whose frowning brow repelled the soft moonlight- 
 As some great serpent drags its weary length 
 Into the darkness of its cavern-stren-ah'