CHARLES B. KEEN
 
 T H. E 
 
 TWILIGHT DREAM, 
 
 foments ai Solitude; 
 
 X. CHAPMAN FREEMAN. 
 
 llmv strangely gleams through the gigantic trees, 
 The red light of the forge! Wild, beckoning shadows 
 ?>talk through the forest, ever and anon 
 
 Rising and bending with the Wickering flame. 
 Then flitting into darkness! So within me 
 .Strange hopes and fears do beckon to each other, 
 As the light does the shadow." 
 
 I must have been asleep! ay, sound asleep? 
 And it was all a dream." 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 LINDSAY & B L A K I S T O N . 
 1353.
 
 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, 
 
 GENIUS HAS ENRICHED OUR LITERATURE. 
 
 AND IS ADMIRED 
 
 WHEREVER THAT LITERATURE IS KX.iWX. 
 
 THIS HCMBLE VOLUME 
 
 IS, 
 
 HV PERMISSION, 
 
 GRATEFULLY AND RESPECTFULLY 
 INSCRIBED.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Ix palliation of the defects of " The Twilight Dream," 
 the Author would state that it was composed at a very 
 early age, and during a short space of time. 
 
 Had he been permitted, by other duties, to indulge his 
 Muse in the quiet sanctum of his own closet, the lan 
 guage and ideas of the Poem might have been more 
 entertaining to its readers ; as it is, he claims some leni 
 ency for its disconnection and crudeness, from the circum 
 stances of its birth. These, in the language of Byron, 
 " though they cannot excite the voice of praise, may at 
 least arrest the arm of censure." 
 
 The collection of shorter poems now published under 
 the title of " Moments of Solitude," were, for the most 
 part, written at a still earlier date, and have received 
 little or no modification. Many have already appeared 
 (under a nom-de-plume,) in the columns of various 
 periodicals; but will not, their parent hopes, be more 
 harshly judged now that they have been publicly ac 
 knowledged. 
 
 Should the work tend to relieve the dull monotony 
 of an hour, or afford a slight gratification in its oc 
 casional review, the ends of the Author will be fully 
 accomplished, and his ambition liberally rewarded.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 "To the dictates of young ambition may be ascribed 
 many actions more criminal and equally absurd," says 
 Lord Byron ; yet, should defeat await this first literary 
 onset, he has only to look to the future as a more suc 
 cessful battle-ground, and seek to gather from his PRE 
 SENT overthrow, that wherewith to achieve more worthy 
 things.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 THE TWILIGHT DEE AM. 
 
 Canto I. Tart 1 9 
 
 Part II 18 
 
 Canto II 29 
 
 Canto III. Part 1 51 
 
 Part II 59 
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Sad Moments, . 71 
 
 Lines to - . . . . . . . .75- 
 
 Love s Serenade, ...... 77 
 
 Song of the Orphan Spirit, 79- 
 
 Where I would die, ...... 82 
 
 Thou art Another s, 85 
 
 A Mother s Love, 88- 
 
 Stanzas, . . . . . . . . .90 
 
 We Sm^e and Gaze at Woman s Charms, . . 92 
 
 Though Forever we have Parted, ... 9S
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Stanzas, ........ 95 
 
 How Love we to gaze 011 the Scenes of our Youtb, . 96 
 
 I Sigh, and Think of Thee, Lady, ... 98 
 
 The Sun of Joy upon thy Brow. . . . .100 
 
 Hail Beautiful Spring, 103 
 
 Music, a Sonnet, . . . . . . .105 
 
 Sonnet to , 100 
 
 Past Memories, . . . . . . .107 
 
 Wherefore call st thou Memory Fond, . . . 109 
 
 I Love Thee, I Love Thee, Ill 
 
 Impromptu Lines to a Friend, . . . . 113 
 
 When Music Floats through Marbled Halls, . .114 
 
 Sweet Maid of Lochnare, . . . . . 116 
 
 Lines to , . . . . . . .118 
 
 It is Past, 120 
 
 Why wake the Lyre to sing thy Charms ?. . . 123 
 
 Thy thin lip trembled, 124 
 
 Poor heart be still, . . . . . . .125 
 
 Fill up, we ll drown at least to-night, . . . 126 
 
 Life and the Rose 127 
 
 And am I then forgotten, . . . . . 129 
 
 Love, Flope, and Fear, 131 
 
 What are Life s Joys, . . . . . . 133 
 
 Check not, check not that pearly tear, . . . 134 
 
 Sunset, 135 
 
 Extracts from a Poem, entitled Spirit of Love, . 137
 
 fire ^toiUIt )n;un. 
 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 "A being of sudden smiles and tears, 
 Passionate visions, quick light and shade." 
 
 " Twill fade, the radiant dream! and will she not 
 Wake with more painful yearning at her heart ? 
 
 HEM.YNS. 
 
 SWEET is the hour! when, o er the swelling sea, 
 The moon floats peerless in her majesty ; 
 When heaven seems nestling on the breast of earth, 
 Kissing the waters in their solemn mirth. 
 Sweet is the hour ! when stars together meet, 
 Beaming like angels from their pure retreat ; 
 Sinking like shadows from their azure height, 
 Sinking to rise with still more welcome light. 
 Sweet is the hour ! yet, neath yon dimpling sky, 
 How many a heart now throbs with agony!
 
 10 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 How many weep, like spirits of the past, 
 O er the still moment they could wish their lust ; 
 Fading in rayless misery alone 
 Their only comforter the heart s low groan ! 
 How many wander, wild and joy-born things, 
 purple Twilight, neath thy soft ning wings, 
 Coming, like sea gods to some lonely bower, 
 To share the fondness of thy placid hour ! 
 How many now beneath thy waning eye. 
 Breathe forth love s sweet and gently echoed sigh ; 
 While hope, like some dear peri-guard, awakes, 
 To ease the woe-pressed spirit ere it breaks ! 
 How many a lip upon its rubied breast. 
 Receives the kiss which makes the bosom blest I 
 How many a heart is quivering to the tone 
 Of that dear voice twould yield up worlds to own ! 
 Yes ! from the Day-God s cold and formless light, 
 Hearts turn for sympathy to thee, Night ! 
 When the deep heavings of the world are o er, 
 And her harsh thunders, sleeping, come no more, 
 Ah, how we fly, like Freedom s bird to thce, 
 Thou peerless Night, sweet shrine of sympathy !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 11 
 
 In such an hour, when sylvan shadows steal, 
 
 Glimmering feebly through the crimsoned leave?. 
 
 Deep, dark and beautiful, the stars reveal 
 
 A sleeping maiden, round "whom fancy weaves 
 
 Her golden web of bliss. As her wrought soul 
 
 o c_/ 
 
 Revels amid the azure of its dreams, 
 Bright, aerial vi?ions o er it softly roll, 
 
 Lighting, her bosom with their bashful beams. 
 By the broad borders of a flashing sea, 
 
 Peeping in timid modesty alone, 
 Her eye discerns, wrapt in obscurity, 
 
 Marking two graves, one small, white, mould ring 
 
 stone ; 
 Above whose moss-grown form, an aged tar 
 
 Moves to arid fro upon his gnarled staff , 
 In sadness gazing on some gleaming star, 
 
 Or list ning to the breakers mocking laugh. 
 Anon, his eye meets hers, and its wild glare, 
 
 Like the last burstings of a flame, grows dull and 
 
 deep ; 
 Then turns to gaze upon the shapeless air 
 
 Then breathes a sigh : and madly strives to weep.
 
 12 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 But the tear froze upon his swollen cheek, 
 
 And the lip quivered, as the ghostly word 
 Came creeping forth, like one who strives to speak 
 
 But shrinks as his own hollow voice is heard. 
 From out the murmuring sound her fancy wrought, 
 
 Stirred by the sweetness of waning light, 
 A broken tale of anguish, sorrow-fraught, 
 
 Of early love crushed in an early blight. 
 % %. $ * >i< =i= 
 
 We are all heirlings of a changeful state, 
 A state of joys and griefs, of hopes and fears; 
 
 The lightest hearts may meet the darkest fate, 
 And morning laughter change to evening tears. 
 
 Azaria was an only child ; yet she 
 
 Had known but sorrow from her infancy. 
 
 Her sire her tyrant, whom she loved too well, 
 
 Her heart a stranger to Anteros spell, 
 
 She oft had worshipped one whom, hour by hour, 
 
 In dreams watched o er her with a sybil s power ; 
 
 Of one whose bosom, like hers, fondly pined 
 
 Some gentle sharer in her hopes to find ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 1 
 
 With heart of tenderness, with soul of fire, 
 And breast a stranger to each ill desire. 
 Some being like her own as pure as warm 
 Life s joys to brighten to illume its storm : 
 Who would not chide the bosom s lonely sigh, 
 Or frown upon the tear that dimmed the eye, 
 When, Time, unfeeling, winged the parting hour, 
 And Absence rose to dull affection s power. 
 And thus she lived, amid her kindred strange, 
 With heart that ached, yet dared not hope for change 
 With eager passions kindling in her breast, 
 Which want of sympathy had half reprcst ; 
 But, like some smothered flame, the embers lay, 
 Eating life s best and purest thoughts away ; 
 And thus she lived, as all termed, gay, 
 
 A light on earth which seemed divine ; 
 Nor dreamed her heart consuming lay, 
 
 A sacrifice at Sorrow s shrine ! 
 And thus apart she breathed and moved, 
 
 Amid the wild, and gay, and young ; 
 By hateful sycophants beloved, 
 
 If love from selfish hearts is wrung! 
 
 o*
 
 li THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 But once, \vhen the rays of the sparkling sky 
 Peeped glimmering down through many an eye, 
 Floating in joy on the wings of the night, 
 Flooding the groves in their silvery light, 
 From the radiant blaze of the dazzling hall, 
 Where Fashion binds the heart in her thrall, 
 She glided away, like a spirit on earth, 
 Of mortal form, but of heavenly birth, 
 To dream in that tranquil solitude, 
 Away from the noise of the gay and rude, 
 Of a deep, dark eye, whose earnest beam 
 
 Had lit, in her warm impassioned heart, 
 The yearning hopes of her early dream, 
 
 Those perishing hopes but whence that start ! 
 Her eye flashed brightly as its glance met his, 
 Which seemed to tell of some awakened bliss, 
 Both, both had fondly sighed for o er and o er 
 But never known its rapture-thrill before! 
 And neither spake, yet, in that silent look, 
 
 Each read the burden of the other s soul ; 
 Till from it, lightning-like, their beings took 
 
 Ages of joy that o er them seemed to roll.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 15 
 
 And henceforth they were one! their hearts grew light, 
 With the sweet gladness of their own communing ; 
 
 The Past was darkness, but the Future bright, 
 Beneath the passion in their souls consuming! 
 
 For both were young and fair; yet both had known 
 
 A long and weary life of grief and tears; 
 Left- to commune alone, their hearts had grown 
 
 In thoughts arid feelings far beyond their years. 
 Ay ! they had yearned for sympathy ! for one 
 
 O er whom to pour their passion s eager flood ; 
 But the cold world, whilom, had offered none 
 
 To cool the ardor kindling in their blood. 
 And they had learned, like him whose raptured soul 
 
 Would find its vision d dream-land upon earth, 
 To bear the pang, the aching heart control 
 
 The bitter pang of disappointment s birth ! 
 They learned to check their visionary dreams, 
 
 To hide their deep thoughts in their own dark 
 
 breast ; 
 Whence smiling hope withdrew her golden beams, 
 
 Leaving them troubled with a strange unrest.
 
 1C THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 And thus it was that fatal hour they met, 
 
 As if some spirit in the ardent soul 
 Awoke a thrill, they could not all forget, 
 
 And breathed a gladness they could ill control. 
 They scorned the dull and stagnant mass around, 
 
 Yet lived, like others, mid its hateful blaze; 
 For, though no charms within its noise they found, 
 
 They dared not brave its scowling, Argus-gaze. 
 So each had made them friends of their own dreams, 
 
 Dim creatures of the fancy and the brain, 
 Whose forms at eve they worshipped, when the beams 
 
 Of the sweet moon awoke their birth again. 
 And when the hum of the gay throng had ceased, 
 
 And stillness, like soft music, weavcd its spell, 
 Their souls would revel, from deceit released, 
 
 Amid the visions which they loved so well ! 
 Aye ! they would loose wild fancy s secret wing, 
 
 And soar to regions of intense delight, 
 Where love was welcomed by unending spring, 
 
 And kindred spirits woo d the blissful night. 
 
 And thus it was they met ! and, like two springs 
 Of feeling, flowing towards one common stream,
 
 TIIK TWILIGHT DREAM. 1 < 
 
 Their hearts together grew, like mutual things, 
 
 Till Time sped onward like a fleeting dream. 
 Their beings flowed as into a new life, 
 
 A kindling state of an unearthly bliss ; 
 A Paradise, with blushing pleasures rife 
 
 The past was agony compared to this ! 
 Their souls were blended in one tide of thought, 
 
 One hope, one burning wish, one deep, wild prayer, 
 That life might yield, mid all its anguish, nought 
 
 To cloud the one each loved so well, with care. 
 And they would steal, at Twilight s pensive hour, 
 
 From the chill murmurs of the world away, 
 To yield their senses to its gentle power, 
 
 Or blend their voices in some thrilling lay. 
 They recked not of the careless mirth, the gay 
 
 In their delusive fancies, mis-term joy ; 
 That false excitement growing, day by day, 
 
 Until the sick heart sinks beneath its cloy ! 
 Their purer spirits, with a cold disgust, 
 
 Turned from the waters of its base deceit ; 
 Eyeing their brightness with a strange distrust, 
 
 They deeply scorned and yet half feared to meet.
 
 18 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 " And oh, how much I love him, ivl.nt can tell? 
 Xot words, not tears heaven only knows how much. 
 PHILIP Vox AIITEVELDT. 
 
 OF those whose hearts in kindred grow, 
 
 Alvin the joy had never known ; 
 He had no tear for other s woe, 
 
 And asked no solace for his own. 
 Twas night ! He paced with hurried stride 
 
 The marbled pathway of his room, 
 Upon his lip a sneer of pride, 
 
 And o er his brow a shade of gloom. 
 A curse was quivering on his tongue, 
 
 Which spake of something dark and ill, 
 While, round his ghastly cheek, there hung 
 
 Huge drops of dew, as cold, and chill, 
 And dark, as was his withered heart 
 Beneath its own convulsive start !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 19 
 
 With eager grasp lie seized the bell, 
 
 Which slept upon the tablet near, 
 And shook it with an ire as fell, 
 
 As though he meant the dead should hear. 
 " Ilernando ! haste thee, hound ! what fear ? 
 Azaria, daughter, send her here. 
 Tell her, her sire would speak of what 
 Must either make or mar her lot ; 
 To bend her soul and curb her will, 
 For what will make her bosom thrill 
 With exultation, wild and glad, 
 Or disappointment dark and sad 1" 
 
 Lord Alvin ceased! the curling smile 
 That dyed his brow and cheek the while, 
 Slow faded to the paler hue 
 Excitement could not all subdue ; 
 And still with measured tramp he strode, 
 And through his bounding veins still flowed, 
 Like some dim shadow, light with life, 
 The tide of fierce contending strife.
 
 20 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Azaria, with a trembling pulse, and breast 
 
 Which moved like some calm billow s gentle swell, 
 Whose tirnid hearings would not be represt, 
 
 Her sire obeyed ! she struggled to repel 
 The chilling fears which like a gloomy pall, 
 
 Upon her sad, foreboding spirit crept ; 
 As slowly, at her fierce Lord s sudden call, 
 
 And softly to his dreaded side she stept. 
 She knew not why, but through her quivering soul 
 
 There shot an agonizing pang, as though 
 She pierced the future, and upon its scroll 
 
 Bead the dark outline of some horrid woe, 
 Some ghastly vision, in whose shadowy train 
 
 Her life was darkly pictured ! as the mind 
 Is often preyed on by some fancied pain, 
 
 Whose cause in vain we madly seek to find ! 
 
 Lord Alvin s step was fierce and quick, 
 His husky voice was low and thick, 
 Yet seemed his soulless glance to melt, 
 When gazing on the form which knelt 
 In tearless agony of grief !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 21 
 
 lie half repressed the liquid fire 
 Which filled his soul with one desire, 
 
 And, for a moment, strange as brief, 
 A softness o er his being pass d, 
 
 A sudden kindness, like a flash 
 Of glory all too bright to last ! 
 Stern passion soon resumed the throne, 
 Whence, for an instant, she had flown ; 
 
 And with a quick, contemptuous dash, 
 He rudely brushed the starting tear, 
 Unknown for many a changing year ; 
 Once more his ponderous brow o ercast, 
 Resumed the cold repulsive hue 
 Contending passions o er it threw, 
 And waving off the softening spell 
 
 Which recollection round him weaved, 
 " Azaria, rise, and heed me well, 
 
 From all thy doubts and fears relieved. 
 I mean thee well, girl ! thou shalt be 
 
 The queen of all that round thee shine ; 
 And none shall live a life like thee, 
 
 And none know bliss to equal thine ! 
 3
 
 22 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Ay ! thou slialt dwell an Angel- Queen, 
 
 \Yithin thine Eden s glowing bowers, 
 Neath costly domes of glittering sheen, 
 
 With love to speed the parting hours. 
 Nay, heed me, girl ! thou shalt have more 
 
 Than Gods could dream, or Angels hope ! 
 All that thy heart can most adore, 
 
 All that Golconda s wealth can ope. 
 Rich founts their sapphired waters sweet, 
 
 Shall softly murmur wild and free, 
 Where scented zephyrs gladly meet, 
 
 To join their gurgling melody ; 
 And, blushing o er their wild arcades, 
 
 Shall clustering vines and whispering trees 
 Invite thee to their cooling shades, 
 
 And fan thee with their soothing breeze ! 
 
 " How, how, my lord ! what means this tale 
 
 Imagination paints so bright ? 
 Which from the future rends the veil, 
 
 And leaves its mist-like form so light ?"
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 23 
 
 Azaria s voice was low and weak, 
 
 And trembled on her failing tongue, 
 As if she must, yet feared to speak, 
 
 Though every rending nerve it wrung. 
 Too well she felt some dark intent 
 
 Beneath the glowing words lay clad, 
 Some deed to which her fancy lent 
 
 A blackness, which her soul forbade. 
 Some fiend his burning brain possest, 
 
 Azaria dared not meet its gaze, 
 But shrunk in female terror, lest 
 
 Her own should wither neath its blaze ! 
 
 And once again his hollow voice 
 
 Awoke its deep sepulchral tone, 
 To bid Azaria s heart rejoice, 
 
 And share the tumult of his own. 
 " Rich halls their dazzling light shall show 
 
 Of thousand iris tints, and gems 
 Of rarest beauty round thee glow, 
 
 And sparkle in thy diadems
 
 24 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Celestial music, like soft sighs, 
 
 Shall float on hidden wings, and breathe 
 
 Its strains around, above, beneath, 
 Till time on eagle pinions hies, 
 And earth reveals a paradise ! 
 Ay ! thou shalt vred with one whose name 
 
 Becomes thy parent s state and thine; 
 Which towering stands, where noblest fame 
 
 And wealth their proudest chaplets twine. 
 Thou lt Stand alone, like some bright star, 
 
 Surrounded by earth s smaller suns, 
 Who ll humbly worship from afar, 
 And pine in hope one glance to meet, 
 Shall bring them kneeling at thy feet. 
 Yes ! thou wilt be the centre round 
 
 The Avhom they all must live and move, 
 The link by which their hearts are bound, 
 
 The being whom th:,-y all will love ! 
 Thine own must soothe and share the life 
 
 Of Ablou Ghan, whose haughty power 
 Shall shield thy heart from every strife, 
 
 And guard thy being from this hour.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 25 
 
 Away ! no more ! what I have said 
 Shall be, if truth in Olotho dwell ; 
 
 To-morrow s sun shall see thee wed 
 
 With one who loves thee, oh ! too well !" 
 
 He ceased ! but heeded not the form 
 
 Which like some marble statue dwelt, 
 With cheeks alternate flushed and warm, 
 
 Then white as the floor on which she knelt, 
 As though the last slow tide of life 
 Had yielded to its inward strife, 
 And ghastly Death his wings had spread, 
 To bear her to her burial bed. 
 And then there rushed a sudden hue 
 
 Of burning brightness o er her face ; 
 A wildness in her dark eyes grew, 
 
 Which fear could only half erase ; 
 A mad ning gaze, which sadly spake 
 
 Of agony, subdued but strong ; 
 A heart which throbbed as though twould break, 
 
 Beneath its crushing weight of woe and wrong.
 
 26 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Who has not known, throughout the changing dream 
 Which we terra life, some bright and welcome beam 
 Dart quickly, like a brilliant meteor s blaze, 
 Then silently depart ! until our gaze 
 Is left to wither in the hateful night 
 Existence leaves without its cherished light ! 
 Who, when some sudden joy has lit the heart, 
 Not known a stranger bliss in his bosom start; 
 A mad ning thrill, a pleasing pain, until, 
 Imagination yielding to the will, 
 Another being wakes ! when the freed mind 
 
 Forgets earth s dull realities, and builds 
 Up airy castles shapes all undefined 
 
 Which love with its enchantments sweetly gilds ! 
 Who has not mused in sweet forgetfulness, 
 
 To the harsh murmur of the living dead; 
 When fondest fancy weaves her spells to bless, 
 
 With every dark and brooding trouble fled ! 
 When the soul, loosed from the electric bond 
 
 Which chained it to the grosser life of earth, 
 Revels in all the formless pleasures fond, 
 
 Which fairy hopes and shapeless joys give birth !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 27 
 
 AYho has not known that other, purer life, 
 
 The imaged picture of the one to come, 
 AYhen the lulled soul, shut out from every strife, 
 
 Is lost to sorrow in its airy home ! 
 Those cherished thoughts, children of solitude, 
 
 Creeping like floating spirits round the brain ; 
 AYinging their flight, when baser tones intrude, 
 
 In terror back to their lone cell again ! 
 Those shadowy forms of good and fairer things 
 
 Than the false shows of idle mockery ; 
 AYhich we can know but in our wanderings 
 
 O 
 
 AYhich cannot dwell with cold reality ! 
 
 Such had Azaria dreamed ! Her life had grown 
 To an ethereal essence ; there was one 
 AA r hose being, heart and soul, within her own 
 AYas blended ! In the wild world there were none 
 AYhom either sought or either cared to know ; 
 In but one channel could their feelings flow, 
 The one which led them to each other s side, 
 AA T hich taugh them in each other to confide
 
 28 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 As in themselves ! until they both were bound 
 By the same link of mutual hopes and prayers ; 
 
 Until life had no joy but what they found 
 In fondly sharing all its griefs and cares. 
 
 Thus had they dwelt since first they met, 
 
 Thus dreamed the fleeting hours away ; 
 Mid all the joys Love can beget, 
 
 And all the charms that round him play. 
 They had no light save that which gleamed, 
 
 Like liquid lightning, from the eye ; 
 And through its darkness softly streamed, 
 And o er their glowing features beamed. 
 They had no other music save 
 
 The low and trembling heart wrung sigh, 
 Which to their close-pressed bosoms gave 
 A world of feeling, unexpressed, 
 The key to which that sigh possessed !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 And on my bier I ll lay 
 
 Me clown in frozen beauty, pale and wan, 
 
 Martyr of love to man, 
 
 And like a broken flower, gently decay." 
 
 BARRY CORNWALL, 
 
 TWAS Twilight s banquet hour ! 
 
 The parting flush of day, 
 In silence yielding to her pow r, 
 
 Sank, spirit-like, away. 
 The gondolier s low note was dead, 
 
 The fragrant air, like music s sigh, 
 Before its own sweet voice had fled, 
 
 As though, like joy, twere horn to die.
 
 30 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 The boatman s song, so wild and deep, 
 
 No longer echoes o er the wave ; 
 The oars within their row-locks sleep, 
 
 Like voiceless spirits in the grave. 
 Soft beams as if from lover s eyes, 
 
 Smile sweetly down from stars above ; 
 While purple cloudlings kiss the skies, 
 
 To greet them with their gentle love. 
 The Nightingale s soft strain is hushed, 
 
 But little recks Azaria now ; 
 Her eye is bright, her cheek is flushed, 
 
 And beauty smiles upon her brow. 
 Like living snow, her heaving breast, 
 
 Her flashing eye like darts of fire ; 
 With list ning ear and lips compressed, 
 
 She stands the image of her sire. 
 That sire resembling, yet how much 
 Had nature altered her from such ! 
 Mid senses fine and passions wild, 
 Were feelings in that Nature s child, 
 Which scorned the bitter treachery 
 Her venal lord seemed born to be !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 81 
 
 She thinks not of the dreaded doom, 
 
 "\Vhich o er her, fate-like, darkly hangs ; 
 Than which more welcome far the tomb, 
 
 For that had few and happier pangs ! 
 Her thoughts were lost in Hope s bright spell, 
 And gentle Memory ceased to dwell 
 Upon the hated words which fell 
 That day upon her soul like gloom. 
 The Past, though dark with misery, 
 
 Her raptured brain had all forgot ; 
 And what the Future s lot might be, 
 To her was one dim mystery, 
 
 As anxiously she trod the spot 
 "Where first Orestes breathed his vow, 
 And where she waited for it now. 
 
 Hark, hark, to a light and hurried pace, 
 
 A whispering sound of trampled leaves ; 
 One moment, and she meets his face, 
 
 Another, and her bosom heaves 
 
 Convulsive to his own ; 
 Their beings fired, almost expired 
 
 A sacrifice at Eros throne !
 
 32 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Aza, loved-one, best and dearest, 
 
 Once more welcome to this heart, 
 Which, for thee, is all sincerest, 
 
 Thee, from whom it near can part ! 
 Ah, each moment sadly winging, 
 
 Calls up dreams of peace and bliss ; 
 From the cells of memory springing, 
 
 Dreams, beloved, of joy like this ! 
 
 See ! the stars their lights are blending, 
 
 Sweetly smiling on our love ; 
 And the moon, her pale beam lending, 
 
 Fondly greets us from above. 
 Though the earth be cold, unfeeling, 
 
 Thou, Azaria, be my star; 
 Like their silver rays come stealing, 
 
 But not like them from afar ! 
 
 Ever with me, alway round me, 
 Let thy love my pathway light ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 33 
 
 And be the spell by which thou st bound me, 
 
 Fadeless, as it now is bright. 
 We, earth s faithless shadows leaving, 
 
 To some lonely cot will flee, 
 Where shall dwell no cold-deceiving, 
 
 Trust-forsaking mockery. 
 
 " Why that frown thy smile o er-shading ? 
 
 AVhy that pale and drooping brow ? 
 Is thine own love then so fading ? 
 
 Is so false thy changing vow ? 
 Art tJwu, too, but true in seeming ? 
 
 Have I loved, adored in vain ? 
 Has this heart been madly dreaming, 
 
 Must it wake to life again ? 
 Must it find the hopes it cherished 
 
 Left to wither in the dust ? 
 Must it find its glory perished, 
 
 And betrayed its faithful trust?" 
 
 " Nay, heed me, sweet Orestes ! by yon sky, 
 
 Reading each bosom from its throne on high, 
 4
 
 84 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Let not such dark words from thine anger start, 
 Which sink, like daggers, to this bleeding heart. 
 But when thine ears the bitter tale have learned, 
 And when thy soul beneath its woe has burned, 
 Thou wilt not wonder that my heart is sad, 
 Thine own, beloved one, could it be more glad ? 
 I gaze upon thy smiling face, 
 
 I meet thy bright and flashing eye, 
 Yet no confusion canst thou trace, 
 
 When other forms than thine are by ! 
 No bloodless cheek, no stifled sigh, 
 
 Betoke my holy love for thee ; 
 Stern pride repels the quivering cry 
 
 Which springs to life uncalled by me ! 
 When others from thy side depart, 
 
 I feel this bosom wildly swell ; 
 And silently this anxious heart 
 
 Weeps love that tears alone can tell. 
 Thou may st not read it in the eye, 
 
 Thou may st not glean it from the cheek, 
 Too deep, too deep the sere pangs lie, 
 For the cheek to tell or the eye to speak.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. o 
 
 The rose may bloom, though its Avithered heart 
 
 Enshrouds the blighting canker there ; 
 And if the tear refuse to start, 
 
 Tis quenched in the blazings of despair. 
 When Memory s dusky shade shall fall, 
 
 Bathing the soul in her cherished light, 
 And brooding Sorrow at the call 
 
 Steals like a scorpion-sting at night ; 
 Then will Jwecp for thy gentle hand 
 
 To press to this hot, consuming brow ; 
 For hopes which have flown like desert-sancl, 
 
 When burning winds its bosom plough ! 
 But, oh ! though the blaze which burns this brain, 
 
 Like the glare of a deep, dark, inborn hell, 
 Reveal no sign of the spirit s pain, 
 
 It feels far more than the tongue can tell ! 
 I love thee ! in that sacred vow 
 
 Is hope, life, death, ay ! all to me ! 
 Yet, while to fate I humbly bow, 
 
 That fate which tears me far from thee, 
 One last, one cherished wish of mine, 
 
 By thee I would not have forgot,
 
 36 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Though roaming far from thee and thine, 
 Forget me not ! forget me not !" 
 
 And thus she spoke, while many a tear 
 
 Stole softly from her dark black eye, 
 And kissed her waxen cheek with fear, 
 
 And mingled with her quivering sigh. 
 Oh, she was heavenly fair, as there 
 The low wind fanned her raven hair ; 
 His arm around her circling bent, 
 Her head upon his shoulder leant, 
 Like two bright rays of beauty, sent 
 To be earth s fairest ornament ! 
 Quick fancy wandered to the years, 
 
 The dawning future darkly ope d, 
 But shrunk in terror from the fears, 
 
 Which threat ningly around it stooped. 
 Beneath its viewless stream so fair, 
 
 Full many a grim and ghastly rock, 
 Seemed waiting, like sphynx-eyed despair, 
 
 To crush their life-barks with its shock.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Full many a cloud there rose to gloom 
 
 The sky of all their hopes, and yet, 
 Though darkness seemed to be their doom, 
 
 The Present made them all forget ! 
 They could not realize the view, 
 
 They could not feel that they must part, 
 Hope o er its dark her crimson threw, 
 
 And Memory drove it from the heart. 
 They turned to the past, the dreamy past, 
 
 The happy past when first they met ; 
 And sighed o er joys too bright to last, 
 
 O er hours they never could forget. 
 And thus they stood, and thus they thought 
 
 Of pleasures dead, of woes to live ; 
 And from each silent pressure sought 
 
 Their voiceless sympathy to give. 
 That sympathy which silence tells, 
 
 And kindred thoughts and feelings lend, 
 Which in the love-fraught glancing dwells, 
 
 When mingling souls together blend. 
 A sympathy which we can feel, 
 
 Electric-like, our beings thrill, 
 4*
 
 38 TUB TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 When far from mocking-mirth we steal, 
 To muse with nature, hushed and still ! 
 
 And this they felt ; ay, more than this ! 
 Their souls into each other poured ; 
 
 And mid their wild, delightful bliss, 
 To raptured worlds of transport soared. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Aza, canst thou be deceiving ? 
 
 My life ! my love ! ah, say thou art ! 
 Break not the golden chord while weaving 
 
 Viewless gladness round thy heart ! 
 Say thy sire, beneath thy sorrow, 
 
 Melted as thyself hast done ; 
 ay not that the coming morrow 
 
 Makes us two, who should be one ! 
 
 See ! the silvery air is sleeping, 
 Like some vision, round us now ; 
 
 And the eyes of heaven are weeping 
 Tears of fondness on thy brow !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 39 
 
 Wilt thou leave this heart, betraying 
 
 All its truthful trust could give ? 
 Hast thou with its love been playing ? 
 
 Cans t thou break it now, and live ? 
 
 Wilt thou, like some captive pining, 
 
 Meet this dungeon of despair ; 
 While Hope s quenchless torch is shining, 
 
 Luring fondly from its care ? 
 Other climes and shores delighting, 
 
 Ope their arms to greet us now ; 
 Other smiling skies inviting, 
 
 Bear a welcome on their brow " 
 
 " Ah ! cease, Orestes ! deepen not the pangs, 
 
 Themselves too deep, which I must know forever 
 The changeless fate which o er us darkly hangs 
 
 In vain we pine ! no hand save Death s can sever ! 
 Oh ! turn, beloved one, turn thou not away, 
 
 Let not thy look upbraid me with its frown ; 
 This poor heart s love shall never know decay, 
 
 But live in memory blended with thine own !
 
 40 THE TWILIGHT DRENM. 
 
 Henceforth its lot is misery ! yet oh 
 
 Forget it not, when with the gay and proud ! 
 
 Think, fondly think upon the past, although 
 Admiring wealth and beauty round thee crowd ! 
 
 " Thou wilt find one whose gentle voice 
 Shall bid thy gloomy heart rejoice ; 
 Thou wilt find one whose lovely smile 
 
 Shall wake a dream-land far more bright, 
 Than hers, whose soul is dark, the while 
 
 Thine own is thrilling with delight. 
 Thou wilt find joy, when I shall pine 
 
 A captive to a hated love ; 
 Whose every vow must call up thine, 
 
 Like darkness in the world above ! 
 Thou lt find another, whose soft hand 
 
 Shall soothe all trouble from thy brow, 
 Far distant in some other land, 
 
 Nor think of her who loves thee now ! 
 
 Azaria seized her light guitar, 
 
 And swept the chords with quivering sound ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 41 
 
 No harsher sound anear to mar 
 
 The melody she stirred around. 
 While, like a Goddess to the view, 
 She sadly breathed her last adieu. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 "Farewell ! though others round thee smiling, 
 
 Dry the tear affection weeps, 
 Till, neath their gentle hand beguiling, 
 
 Thy healing heart in sweetness sleeps ; 
 Wilt thou not from bliss returning 
 
 Breath one parting sigh for me ? 
 Me whose bosom now is burning, 
 
 With its faithful love for thee ? 
 
 Through thy future s vista gleaming, 
 
 Golden blessings strew thy Avay ; 
 Beauty round each path is beaming, 
 
 Wilt thou, can st thou wish to stay ? 
 But for her whose fading pleasure, 
 
 With thy parting glance must die,
 
 42 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Grief has brimmed her burdened measure, 
 Festering deep her tortures lie ! 
 
 Weep for her when sad and lonely, 
 
 "Weep for her whose life is tears ; 
 Tears for one she loves the only 
 
 One whom memory now endears ! 
 She who ll dream and haply borrow, 
 
 From her visioned thoughts so free, 
 Hopings that each coming morrow 
 
 Brings its birth of joy to thee. 
 
 Think of her when peace is filling 
 
 Up thy cup of happiness ; 
 When thy soul with joy is thrilling, 
 
 Think of her thy thoughts shall bless ! 
 When thine own is sadly aching 
 
 For the peace it has not found, 
 Think of her whose heart is breaking, 
 
 Bleeding with a cureless wound !
 
 TIIE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Thou hast all the world before thee, 
 
 Thou hast hopes I cannot crave ; 
 "Would to heaven before I saw thee, 
 
 I had found them in the grave ! 
 Yet farewell ! and when receding 
 
 From the heart that s all thine own, 
 Think, if then thine own is bleeding, 
 
 Of the one left cold and lone !" 
 
 She ceased ! but through each crimsoned vein 
 
 The bounding life-blood madly streamed ; 
 The only sign of tearless pain 
 
 Save that which in her wild eye beamed. 
 Her woman s will the outiuard show, 
 
 Of hidden tumult, strong, represt ; 
 However deep the tide of woe, 
 
 She locked it in her own dark breast. 
 Orestes tuned the sleepful lyre, 
 
 And swept its gentle chords along ; 
 With flashing eye, and heart of fire, 
 
 Thus poured his burden in his song.
 
 44 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 When the slow sun, declining, 
 
 Glides down to his rest, 
 All earth is left pining 
 
 In darkness unblest ; 
 But the mantle, enshrouding, 
 
 The morrow decays ; 
 And the gloom o er it clouding, 
 
 Yields up to Sol s rays. 
 
 Like the soft dews descending 
 
 Its sweets to impart, 
 Is love sweetly blending 
 
 Its joys round the heart ; 
 But ah ! when once broken, 
 
 The heart knows no morrow, 
 To bring back vows spoken, 
 
 Or lighten its sorrow.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 45 
 
 Then leave him not nighted, 
 
 Whose sun is thine eye ; 
 Without whose ray lighted, 
 
 lie must wither and die ! 
 Oh, how could his being 
 
 Live severed from thine ? 
 Ah, no ! love decreeing, 
 
 Thou still must be mine ! 
 No ! leave him not sinking 
 
 In sorrow alone, 
 Whose soul should be linking 
 
 Its fate with thine own ! 
 
 " Can st thou then leave me ! thou, my soul, for whom 
 
 My desert life hath now become so fair ? 
 Can st thou thus bid me seek once more the tomb, 
 
 The cold and settled anguish of despair ? 
 Have I then taught my soul to live for thee, 
 
 To hear to see no image save thine own, 
 Only to feel once more the misery 
 
 Of being cast upon the world alone ? 
 5
 
 46 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 No, not alone ! for, through each silent hour, 
 
 Memory would aye in sadness view the past ; 
 In mockery dreaming, by her faithful power, 
 
 Of the sweet moment when I saw thee last ! 
 Recall it, to feel that it is all dream, 
 
 To break the spell just as thy lips I pressed ; 
 To find it but a momentary gleam, 
 
 Leaving a deeper darkness in the breast. 
 How could I bear to live and thus review 
 
 Moments of bliss, to find their pleasure dead ? 
 To trace each budding feeling as it grew 
 
 Only to prove the joy it gave has fled ! 
 Each little bird, each sweet enticing flower, 
 
 Each star whose jewelled features I should meet, 
 Would fall, like deadly blight, with withering power, 
 
 Upon the heart s quick, agonizing beat ! 
 For in each object of the world I view, 
 
 Since first I met thee, thee alone I see ; 
 Nor can I ever, though thyself untrue, 
 
 Be false, beloved, or changeable to thee !"
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 47 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Go, go if thou canst, but when far, far away, 
 
 Like sand on the desert, my life-bark is cast, 
 "\Yhcn thoughts round thy visions, like serpents, shall 
 
 And carry thee back in thy dreams to the past ; 
 
 Thou lt weep while thy heart in its sorrow is breaking, 
 Yes, weep, for thy soul will be shrouded in gloom ; 
 
 As mine, tho far distant, must madly be aching, 
 Awaiting in silence the peace of the tomb. 
 
 Ah, thus is it ever with bosoms of feeling, 
 
 Some pang of misfortune is hovering near, 
 Some dark spring of anguish, whence, silently steal 
 
 ing, 
 The eye that is kindest is dimmed by its tear !"
 
 48 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Azaria struggled to repress 
 
 The agonizing pang she felt ; 
 To hide her trembling soul s distress 
 
 As on his slighted word she dwelt, 
 In looks of gentlest tenderness. 
 Howe er her heaving bosom yearned, 
 Howe er the flame of passion burned, 
 It failed, beneath her woman s will, 
 To move one feature with its thrill. 
 As raging ./Etna, in its deep 
 Flames madly, though the surface sleep, 
 Beneath that calm and cheerful gaze 
 Lurked many a fiery torture-blaze ; 
 Like some wild torrent s sweeping rush, 
 Increasing darkly in its gush ! 
 One quick, one half reproachful look, 
 
 No sound except her heart s wild beat,- 
 The flash her deadening eye forsook 
 
 She sank like Noeina at his feet ! 
 He chafed the still, unearthly brow, 
 
 And wildly kissed the marbled cheek ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 49 
 
 But the lip forgot, and the eye saw not, 
 
 What nought but the lip or the eye can speak. 
 And oh the agonizing hour 
 
 What human tongue can tell, 
 When Death is pending o er the flower 
 
 We all have loved so well ! 
 To see the one whose gentlest tone 
 
 Has thrilled us with delight, 
 Like beauty, when each hope has flown, 
 
 Destroyed by deadly blight !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 51 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 " Without thine ear to listen to my lay, 
 
 Still must my song, my thoughts, my soul betray : 
 
 Still must each accent to my bosom suit, 
 
 My heart unhush d although my lips were mute ! " 
 
 " Think st thou that I could bear to part 
 With thee, and learn to halve my heart." 
 
 BYROX. 
 
 IT is a fearful gift the human heart 
 
 With all the cherished hopes of early years ! 
 Then, then to view them as their beams depart, 
 
 Seen dim and sadly through our rising tears ! 
 It is a fearful cast ! and as the glow 
 
 Of youthful fire declines within apace, 
 As fading Time brings shadows to the brow, 
 
 And crippling Age destroys each pleasing grace ;
 
 52 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 It is a fearful thing for us to find 
 
 Our every tender feeling lias been crossed ; 
 The brain been maddened ; and the deadened mind 
 
 A wreck upon the sea of Reason tossed ! 
 Oh Agony! to know that those for whom, 
 
 Like bark upon the waters, we have sought ; 
 Whose smile has brightened up each scene of gloom, 
 
 With many a dark and secret torture fraught 
 Have, like the leaf in wild convulsion hurled, 
 
 Been lost to us just when they seemed most dear ; 
 "When life seemed waning from this dreary world, 
 
 To glow more fondly in a better sphere ! 
 
 Tis sad, oh very sad ! to view the grave 
 
 Open its yawning depth, to bury those 
 Whom we would suffer every death to save 
 
 From the cold horror of its chill repose ! 
 Friends whom we love, whom early years 
 
 When fond enthusiasm stirs the breast, 
 Whom every hope and memory endears 
 
 Sinking like dew-drops to their lonely rest !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 53 
 
 The cheek must blanch, and from the tear-dimmed 
 
 eye, 
 
 The stream of anguish force its silent way, 
 As, in the burdened breast, a swelling sigh 
 
 Speaks the last farewell o er the mouldering clay. 
 
 Tis a sad hour for the poor human brain, 
 
 When Death, like a winged spirit, comes to steal 
 The joys of love, which gone, come not again, 
 
 The bliss, which dead, we never more may feel ! 
 But darker, 0, than this, it is, to stand, 
 
 Like some wrecked pilgrim to a distant shrine, 
 Who sinks exhausted, as his withered hand 
 
 Would touch the altar which he deems divine, 
 Just as his soul would breathe its fondest prayer 
 
 For the one object of its toil-worn thought 
 Sinks in his uncheered loneliness, as there 
 
 He finds to lose the Mecca wildly sought ! 
 Yes, darker, oh, than this when the wrapt soul, 
 
 Linked by its fiery thoughts with one lone thing, 
 Hath made that object of its life the whole 
 
 And noblest being of its worshipping :
 
 54 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Alas ! to find it far beyond the grasp, 
 To prove it but a shadowy vision fair. 
 
 Decaying, when its fairy form we d clasp 
 Within our arms, to dwell forever there ! 
 
 Tis not, ah, no ! tis not that we must turn 
 
 From the sweet path which smiles upon our way, 
 Beaming in beauty through its edge of fern, 
 
 Enticing us amid its flowers to stray ; 
 Tis not to leave untasted what we ne er 
 
 Have fondly sought ! the bitter tide of woe 
 Springs when the heart is wakened to despair 
 
 From hopes too heavenly to continue so ! 
 Alas, when we have taught the heart to peer 
 
 Into the Future as a time of peace, 
 Bereft of all the agony of Fear 
 
 Undreaming that its joy could ever cease : 
 How doubly dark must seem its rayless gloom, 
 
 How doubly deep the blackness of its hours, 
 When all our joys have faded in the tomb, 
 
 And we are left alone, like withered flowers, 
 
 Without one heart in unison with ours !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 55 
 
 Affection is a sweet and gentle thing, 
 
 Springing, like purest flowers, from the drear 
 Waste of weedy thoughts within, to bring 
 
 A sweeter perfume through the changing year. 
 It builds another fabric round the mind, 
 
 Of nobler hopes and mightier design, 
 Filling the soul with feelings more refined, 
 
 Feelings less earthly, feelings more divine ! 
 But when the heart, beneath the welcome spell 
 
 lias placed its dearest hopes upon the cast, 
 The misery, what human tongue may tell 
 
 When, like a sudden gleam, the dream has past ! 
 What doom so dread, what grave so cold and chill, 
 
 That would unwelcome offer its drear rest, 
 When Time has proved it but a dream of ill, 
 
 Bringing a gloomy tumult to the breast ? 
 
 In all the bitter agony of grief, 
 Orestes sought each means of fond relief ; 
 He wildly kissed that slow-reviving cheek, 
 In gentlest accents urging her to speak ;
 
 56 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Clasping her madly to his breast in vain 
 Stopping to gaze then clasping once again 
 
 Slow as the light of Morning s first-born raj, 
 
 Coming in softness to arouse the day ; 
 
 Sweet as the ravishing but modest hue 
 
 Of gentlest flowers, wet with sparkling dew, 
 
 The growing blush which crimsoned o er her face, 
 
 As, with a scream, she sprang to his embrace. 
 
 " Ah, why this fond, though aching bosom chide, 
 
 Which could not live one moment from thy side ! 
 
 Nay, hear me ! by yon sacred orbs I vow 
 
 No hand shall tear me from thy bosom now ; 
 
 Though deepest misery thy portion be, 
 
 I d share it all to live a life with thee ; 
 
 Or should we sever, torn apart by fate, 
 
 And I be left without thee desolate, 
 
 Hear me, oh Heaven ! no longer would I dwell 
 
 Where with thee s Paradise without is Hell !" 
 
 Oh Joy ! within, within his secret soul 
 
 The quickened tide of mingled passions roll ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 57 
 
 Could he believe it! she, o er whom but now 
 
 He wept in misery the parting tear, 
 That mild black eye, that bright and beaming brow 
 
 Could he be dreaming ! was she truly here ! 
 Did that full breast which trembled on his own 
 Which beat so wildly beat for him alone ! 
 Was the past hour of agony but dreamed 
 Oh, was she then, indeed, what now she seemed ! 
 How could he meet the love-glance of that eye, 
 How could he hear that heart-wrung, trembling 
 
 sigh, 
 
 And not grow mad to know his weak belief 
 Had added poison to her cup of grief ! 
 He brushed aside the flow of raven hair, 
 Which fell in looseness o er her forehead fair, 
 And pressed once more and yet again, ah bliss ! 
 Upon its whiteness, love s impassioned kiss !
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 59 
 
 CAXTO III. 
 
 TART II. 
 
 " A long farewell ! thou wilt not bring us back 
 All whom thou bsarest far from home and hearth, 
 Many are thine whose steps no more shall track 
 Their own sweet native earth." 
 
 " They had one grave, one lonely bridal-bed, 
 Xo friend, no kinsman there a tear to shed !" 
 
 HEMANS. 
 
 " Tis midnight hour ! far o er the glancing sea, 
 My heart, my country, turns again to thee. 
 Spreads the wide canvass of its hopes once more, 
 To greet thy loved and oft remembered shore ! 
 Still would I seek, within some secret dell, 
 The voiceless solitude I love so well ; 
 Still would I find within its calm repose 
 The stream of peace that from contentment flows !"
 
 60 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Thus mused Orestes, as the bending sail 
 Caught the quick motion of the growing gale ; 
 Proud in her helpless majesty, their bark 
 Leapt like some courser for the distant mark ; 
 Cut the rude waters with her fearless keel, 
 Breasting the billows with a heart of steel ; 
 Exultingly her bounding step she Avore, 
 As conscious of the burden that she bore ! 
 
 Dark is the face of curtained nature ! high % 
 O er the blast shrieks the sea mew s hollow cry ; 
 Loud rush the billows ! like the fatal blow 
 Of some huge empire in its overthrow. 
 Lo ! from the west, like giants from their sleep, 
 The coiling clouds roll proudly o er the deep ; 
 Flinging the waste of waters in their wrath, 
 Like feathered striplings from their boundless path ; 
 Dashing with madness o er the flying spray, 
 Like midnight furies in their demon play. 
 The storm is up ! and grasps the writhing sea, 
 Like some fierce monster in his energy ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 61 
 
 Hugs the huge ocean to his wrinkled breast, 
 Then sweeps in wildness o er its fearful crest ! 
 Mark how the billows, from the rushing blast, 
 Leap to the voice of death shrinking aghast ! 
 Like hurrying millions when the tide of war 
 Sweeps her destruction o er their native shore. 
 
 Voice of the mighty storm, I love thy moan ! 
 Waking all nature to a kindred groan ; 
 Till the roused elements, to fury lashed, 
 In headlong terror o er the earth are dashed ; 
 Licking the dust, which mouldering else would lie, 
 Wrapt in its garment of obscurity. 
 I love Thee, spirit of the haughty storm, 
 Striding around with horror-burdened form ! 
 As o er the world the selfish, hateful world 
 The awful thunders of thy wrath are hurled. 
 Ah ! how ye tremble, hearts which dormant lie, 
 To the warm tear dropping from Sorrow s eye ; 
 Ah ! how ye tremble when the peals of heaven 
 Above thy cringing forms are wildly driven ; 
 6*
 
 62 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Conscious if mercy temper not the dart 
 Twill sink like anguish to thy bleeding heart ! 
 Ay do I love thee, in thy grandeur, when 
 Thou rid st the gale, sweeping the hollow glen ; 
 When thy chill meanings clasp the hugging hill, 
 Bending the forest to thy giant will ; 
 "Whirling the dew drop from the weeping tree, 
 Tearing the ocean in thy tempest glee ! 
 Ay ! do I love thee, Spirit ! for I feel 
 Shadows of freedom through my bosom steal, 
 When shrinking, serpent-like, to her retreat, 
 I view oppression crawling at thy feet. 
 Yes ! feel that earth, quick though the vision be, 
 Shall burst her chains, and be forever free. 
 
 Orestes turned, and, like the orient bright, 
 Crowning dull morning with its wreath of light, 
 Shone the two eyes, which sparkling through their 
 
 tears, 
 
 Beaming on him they loved forgot their fears ! 
 While their small vessel like a joyful bride, 
 Danced swift and gaily o er the rushing tide.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 63 
 
 Ah how we cling through each dark, weary hour, 
 
 To the dear beings of our every thought ; 
 Turning to them, as to some houri s bower, 
 
 Where every motion is with beauty fraught ! 
 She is with him ! " Now let the worse betide, 
 
 If I must perish be it at thy side !" 
 Like the freed pinions of a captive bird, 
 
 Loosed from the bondage it has sadly borne, 
 Her soul was fearless when his voice she heard 
 
 Life, life were worthless with its music gone. 
 
 The storm at sea ! how the entangled air 
 
 Howls through the cordage in its dread despair ; 
 
 Wresting the winking bubbles from the deep, 
 
 Crushing the billow in its haughty leap ; 
 
 Till the foam, coiling neath the spirit-force, 
 
 Breaks into atoms in its frenzied course. 
 
 Mark how yon vessel in its terror gasps, 
 
 As the huge wave her yielding bosom clasps ! 
 
 Unequal strife ! at each terrific blow, 
 
 All Heaven seems aiming for her overthrow ;
 
 64 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Till, with a lurch, the parting timbers leap, 
 With fearful crash, into the boiling deep ; 
 Lost mid the sounding war of wind and wave, 
 To rot and moulder in their ocean srrave. 
 
 High o er the echoing voicings of the roar 
 
 Of Heaven s Destruction, whirling, foam-like, 
 round, 
 
 Dripping its fury over sea and shore, 
 
 Rises a piercing cry the last wild sound 
 
 Of drowning beings as they gurgling sink, 
 Like scattered blossoms, in the chilly sea ; 
 
 Paling in terror on the icy brink 
 
 Which severs Time from dim Eternity 
 While curling billows toss them in their fiendish 
 glee ! 
 
 Grim Death, thou art terrible ! Thou dost bring 
 
 Shadows of agony upon thy brow ; 
 Stealing in secret, like a serpent-sting, 
 
 To make more sure thy dark and fatal blow ;
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 05 
 
 Tearing away, like reeds, earth s dearest ties, 
 As if they were of momentary birth ; 
 
 Spreading thy scaly mantle o er the eyes 
 
 Whose light has been the focus of our mirth 
 Yet reft of Thee, Death, what were Life worth ? 
 
 Ay, ghastly sleep ! rending the cords of Hope, 
 When thy cold film droops o er the glassied sight? 
 
 Closing the seal no mortal power can ope 
 Though fiery passions urge it to the fight ! 
 
 Ah, how we flutter at thy chill embrace, 
 Curdling the vital current in its flow ; 
 
 As thy dun shadows, creeping o er the face, 
 Sink duskly down upon the shrinking brow 
 Smiling in dark triumph at Life s overthrow ! 
 
 Mark how they cling, amid the billowy swell, 
 Hugging the tossing timbers as they go ! 
 
 Then dropping, one by one, with dreadful yell, 
 Into the cold and slimy caves below :
 
 66 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 While ever and anon, on the shrill wind, 
 Like the sad murmur from the closing tomb, 
 
 Creep the last groanings of some frenzied mind, 
 As the stiff body, to its couch of gloom, 
 Falls with a splash down to its watery doom ! 
 
 Orestes spake not ! but with mighty arm, 
 
 Wrapt, like an iron clasp, around the form, 
 Whose gentle loveliness, to shield from harm, 
 
 He would have gladly braved the fiercest storm ; 
 Lashed to the creaking body of a beam, 
 
 Chafed the still temples of his trembling mate ; 
 Clutching more fiercely, lest the insatiate stream 
 
 Should claim his bride, and leave him desolate ; 
 
 To brave alone his dark and billowy fate ! 
 
 Slow fades the sun, as in the crimsoned West 
 His last soft ray glides to its golden rest ; 
 And gentlest stars, like diamond-eyes, now peep, 
 To view their splendor in the tranquil deep.
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. G7 
 
 Like a proud queen the silver moon appears, 
 To quench her thirsting in the ocean s tears. 
 The storm is over and the breaker s roar, 
 Sweeping the blackened skies, is heard no more ! 
 But by the pallid rays Lo ! ghast and pale, 
 Three human forms gaze on a distant sail; 
 Grasping in death last lingering hope, farewell ! 
 The promised rescue from their present hell. 
 Like sleep s dim vision in the dawning light, 
 The less ning whiteness fades in growing night ; 
 Till o er the calmly sleeping waste of blue, 
 Its shape is buried from their eager view. 
 Then gleamed the horror of their last despair, 
 As, wildly struggling with the yielding air, 
 Parted their purpled lips, but not a sound 
 Broke the deep stillness breathing sadly round 
 Save the low gurgling sob, convulsive groan, 
 Which left me there upon the sea alone I 
 
 Be still, my burning brain ! in mercy still ! 
 Ha ! shall I tell thee how my clutching grasp
 
 68 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Grew to the timbers with an iron will, 
 
 Then dropped exhausted? With one parting 
 gasp, 
 
 I sank, a stiffened wreck of human wo, 
 
 And the wave rippled o er my flushless face : 
 
 Go, scene of horror ! Ay, in mercy, go ! 
 
 With the dread memory of that death-embrace ! 
 
 I saw not heard not ; but like one asleep, 
 
 Lay floating motionless, save as the tide, 
 Rousing anon its jealous swell, would leap, 
 
 In cruel mockery, about my side. 
 Then once again I woke, amid the hum 
 
 Of curious voices, startling the crazed brain, 
 Ha ! even now I hear them as they come, 
 
 Bringing the terrors of that hour again ! 
 
 God ! that I had died when I was born, 
 Rather than lived to suffer pangs like those ; 
 
 Health, Reason, Hope, and every feeling gone 
 Why, why was I alone denied repose ?
 
 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 69 
 
 Lady ! thou hast the tale. In yon low spot, 
 
 One, one in life love kindred passion death, 
 Under the slimy turf, in coldness rot, 
 
 The two young lovers ! O er them grows the 
 
 heath ; 
 And hither I, twin-brother in their woe, 
 
 Steal in the sorrowing stillness of the night, 
 To watch above their tomb ere 7, too, go ; 
 
 A heart-wrecked mourner to the realms of li^ht ! 
 
 Sweet breathes the Morn, as, like a bright-eyed 
 
 maid, 
 
 To wed the day she comes in joy arrayed ; 
 Blushing in modest beauty as her eye 
 Casts its first glimmering along the sky ; 
 Gilding each mountain-top and craggy hill, 
 Viewing her glory in each tinkling rill, 
 Till, like a bursting vision soft and bright, 
 All earth seems floating in her flood of light. 
 Lo ! the huge sun, like a lion from his lair, 
 Strides proudly up and shakes his golden hair ;
 
 70 THE TWILIGHT DREAM. 
 
 Tinging the budding tree and blushing flower, 
 "With the fond glory of the cherished hour ! 
 
 Still sleep upon the maiden s lofty brow, 
 
 Like a proud, crownless queen, sits sadly now ; 
 
 Her cheek is slightly flushed; the crimson streak, 
 
 Betokens feelings that it cannot speak; 
 
 While ever and anon the winds low sigh 
 
 Catches a murmur as it whispers by. 
 
 Her soul is with her vision far away, 
 
 And deeply da.rk the shades of passion play ; 
 
 The mellow morn salutes her with its beam, 
 
 When, with a start, she wakes! and this her dream.
 
 n m 
 
 1 5 n f ? n 1 i t H
 
 SAD MOMENTS. 
 
 " The banquet hath its hour, 
 Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine ; 
 There comes a day for griefs o erwhelming power, 
 A time for softer tears." 
 
 HE5IAXS. 
 
 OH ! there are moments when the heart 
 
 Shrinks from the joyous round ; 
 When gloomy visions o er it dart, 
 
 To the wail of its own low sound ! 
 When the smile which we most adore, 
 
 We may dread the most to meet, 
 And the voice of the loved no more 
 
 To the listless ear seems sweet ! 
 
 The eye which is dearest when gay, 
 
 No longer its spell can weave ; 
 And we haste from its beaming away 
 
 In some silent spot to grieve. 
 7*
 
 72 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 The heart seems ready to break, 
 By its Aveight of woe opprest, 
 
 And the laugh of the happy can wake 
 No echoing chord in the breast ! 
 
 What bosom that hath not known 
 
 Its moments of sadness like these, 
 When its every hope hath flown, 
 
 And Pleasure no more can please ? 
 Ah ! often far off I steal 
 
 From the music of mirth away, 
 While a gloom o er my soul I feel, 
 
 Like shadows at set of day. 
 
 No eye to perceive the spell, 
 
 That around my spirit is cast, 
 No gaze to discern the hell, 
 
 That consumes me with its blast ! 
 While Thought, like the scorching air 
 
 Which across the desert sweeps, 
 Wrings the bosom with despair 
 
 Till the heart in madness weeps.
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 73 
 
 Sweet moments are they when some voice 
 
 Awakes, with its gentle tone, 
 A chord to make the heart rejoice 
 
 In answer to its own. 
 But when, like the light from Heaven, 
 
 The lyre of joy has fled, 
 Each chord in anguish riven, 
 
 And the soul of its music dead. 
 
 Each sound once loved so well, 
 
 Now falls on the leaden ear, 
 Like the low sad mournful knell 
 
 Which precedes the lonely bier ; 
 And we seek some silent spot, 
 
 Where the world cannot intrude, 
 Where the laugh of the wild comes not 
 
 To break on our solitude ! 
 
 And oh ! how sweet to dream, 
 
 In this twilight of the soul, 
 As gentle memories, like a beam 
 
 Of glory, o er it roll !
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Sweet, cherished link of what has been, 
 
 Though it can be no more, 
 Recalling thus each dearest scene 
 
 When now forever o er.
 
 LINES TO 
 
 When Passion like a sudden gust, 
 
 In fury sweeps across life s stream, 
 Clothing thy thoughts in harsh distrust, 
 
 And cold, unfeeling makes me seem : 
 Forgive the eye its quickened flash, 
 
 The tongue its momentary stings ; 
 Full soon stern reason wakes, to dash 
 
 To earth the evil anger brings ! 
 
 Full soon the heart its gentlest tone, 
 
 In kindest accent turns to thee ; 
 Yes ! wakes, to feel through many a groan, 
 
 How it has wronged thy memory. 
 Though Discord trim her willing flame, 
 
 To render dark thy soul s distress, 
 Still, still I love thee, the same ! 
 
 Nor can I ever love thee less.
 
 76 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Judge not the heart by idle deeds. 
 
 The lonely tear its fault redeems ; 
 It smiles full oft when most it bleeds 
 
 Believe it is not what it seems. 
 No ! deem not that this filial breast, 
 
 Though eager all its chains to burst, 
 Though deeply hating all the rest, 
 
 Can cease to love tliee best and first !
 
 LOVE S SERENADE. 
 
 Tis solemn midnight and the sleep-bound earth, 
 
 No longer echoes to the song of gladness ; 
 Sad thoughts, too deep for words receive their birth, 
 
 Weaving around the heart a spell of sadness. 
 Thy spirit, dear one, to the influence yielding, 
 
 Now revels in its happy, soothing dreams ; 
 Angels thy fairy form are fondly shielding, 
 
 And stars gaze proudly on theewith their beams. 
 
 But dark rolls the tide of agony and sorrow, 
 
 Dark, dark this hour I pass, in thought with 
 
 thee ; 
 Yet darker, oh ! and sadder the dawning of the 
 
 morrow ; 
 For it tears me for ever, beloved one, from thee !
 
 78 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 The lyre of joy within this breast is mute, 
 
 The still blood through these veins creeps slug 
 gishly and chill ; 
 
 Unless thy soft voice, like Apollo s lute, 
 Awakes the chord and bids its music thrill. 
 
 And yet, perchance, in after years, when change 
 
 Has brought its mete of sorrow to thy breast, 
 When faces grow around thee new and strange, 
 
 And tears alone are left thee once so blest : 
 Memory may wander to the friend who now, 
 
 In silent worship yields his soul to thee ; 
 Ah ! may I not, beloved, then hope, that thou 
 
 Wilt breathe a kindly, kindred prayer for me ?
 
 " I weep for the ties that bound me 
 In life s first early days." 
 
 MRS. 
 
 GIVE, give me back my youthful home, 
 My lowly cot where all was fair ; 
 
 Amid its bowers I long to roam, 
 And all its guileless pleasure share ! 
 
 There was a time when earth was glad, 
 And beamed an Eden to the view ; 
 
 Bnt now, ah, now tis dark and sad, 
 And weeds spring up where roses grew I
 
 80 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 0, for oblivion s endless sleep, 
 
 To waft these bitter memories out ! 
 
 for sweet Lethe s silent deep, 
 
 To quench the fevered fear of doubt ! 
 
 1 pine for a verdant bed, where rest 
 
 May greet once more this bleeding heart ; 
 \Yhere gloomy grief may leave this breast, 
 And all its agony depart. 
 
 I gaze upon yon silent spheres, 
 
 As though those eyes would read their tale,- 
 AVould con the fate of future years, 
 
 From out their livid light so pale : 
 
 Alas ! those brilliant orbs no more, 
 
 Glow soft and bright with welcome light ; 
 
 Remembrance of the days of yore, 
 
 Now robes them in the shades of night ! 
 
 And oh, left lone on the cold, cold earth, 
 Mid all its wily snares to roam, 
 
 This withered breast in pain gives birth 
 To sobs and sighs for its cottage home.
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 81 
 
 Ah hark, then, to the warning voice, 
 Ye souls, which, now so wildly glad, 
 
 Know only how ye may rejoice, 
 
 And dream of nought that s ill or sad. 
 
 That home where now the tones of glee, 
 
 Float gently on the peaceful air, 
 Ere eve has come may prove to thee, 
 
 The home of anguish and despair ! 
 
 Death heeds not wealth Death heeds not fame, 
 When he his God-sent mission tends ! 
 
 Young, old, rich, poor, are all the same, 
 When once his fatal bow He bends ! 
 
 Then prize Affection while it lives, 
 Ye know not of the clouded hour, 
 
 When Heaven its meed of sorrow gives 
 Nor of that sorrow s crushing power !
 
 WHERE I WOULD DIE. 
 
 " Yet love, if love in such an hour 
 Could nobly check its useless sighs, 
 Might then exert its latest power 
 In her who lives, and him who dies." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 WOULD I die mid the carnage of battle, 
 
 Would I slumber along with the brave 
 Mid the tempest of Death s crashing rattle, 
 
 Would I seek for a glory-crowned grave? 
 Would I fall mid the shrieks of the dying, 
 
 Where God s martyrs are strewn on the plain, 
 Where the bold sons of freedom are lying, 
 
 Like the sands on the girt of the main ? 
 Ah, honored though such death-couch be, 
 Yield not its gory rest for me !
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Would I seek me a tomb in the ocean, 
 
 Where the coral and sea-flower grow ; 
 Where Naiads pour forth their devotion, 
 
 In the wave-kings bowers below ? 
 Wh^re the billows above my corse sweeping, 
 
 With a slow and a wailing moan, 
 While mermaids around were sleeping, 
 
 Might sing their fierce lullaby tone ? 
 No ! though to other souls most dear, 
 For mine the breaker has no cheer ! 
 
 Would I die in a palace of riches, 
 
 With rubies and gems sparkling round, 
 With a gilding in one of its niches, 
 
 For my face, when my heart s under ground ! 
 Where thousands of beings could wander 
 
 To gaze upon rare works of art, 
 With twinkle of envy to ponder, 
 
 How soon my last breath may depart ! 
 Though cherished by a colder breast, 
 
 My heart would shun such mocking rest. 
 
 8*
 
 84 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Would I sleep neath the shade of the myrtle, 
 
 By the side of the silvery stream ; 
 Where the love of the dove and the turtle, 
 
 Might soften each dark-shrouded dream ? 
 Where the music of clear crystal flowing, 
 
 Could lull the chilled soul in its gloom, 
 And the little blue violet growing, 
 
 Gentle sigh to the wind o er my tomb ? 
 Oh, sweet in such still peace to lie, 
 Though not the spot where I would die ! 
 
 No ! give not harsh warfare s bleak anguish, 
 
 Or ocean s lone wavelet for me ; 
 Let me not amid wealth slowly languish, 
 
 Though titled and kingly it be ! 
 Let me fade on the breast of affection, 
 
 Let love pillow this heart when it dies; 
 Ear sweeter that blissful reflection, 
 
 To usher the soul to the skies ! 
 Then troubles brighten as they gush, 
 And tumult sinks like Twilight s hush !
 
 THOU ART ANOTHER S. 
 
 "The hope, the fear, the jealous care, 
 
 The exalted portion of the pain 
 And power of love, I cannot share, 
 But wear the chain." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 Thou art another s ! yet for thee 
 
 My youthful soul breathes many a sigh, 
 And weeps o er cruel fate s decree, 
 
 Which dooms it thus from thine to fly ! 
 I know not wliy that bitter thought 
 
 Should gloom the sky of life to me, 
 But darkly is my spirit fraught 
 
 With sadness when apart from thee !
 
 86 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Thou art another s ! yet I feel 
 
 Twere vain to still this yearning heart, 
 Or chide the gentle thoughts which steal, 
 
 And from my soul in rapture start ! 
 I know not whence the sacred spell 
 
 That binds me speechless to thy side, 
 While bright thoughts in this bosom swell, 
 
 Like sunset hues at eventide. 
 
 I cannot tell thee why, but oh, 
 
 When others fondly breathe thy name, 
 Wild tumults in my bosom glow, 
 
 And Anger lights her eager flame ! 
 Yet ah, like dew-drop from the flower, 
 
 Like passing wavelet from the sea, 
 Stern passion yields her jealous power, 
 
 And turns once more to love and thee. 
 
 And yet full many a lonely tear 
 From out its silent home will rush, 
 
 And stifled sob, when thou art near, 
 And wailing sigh in madness gush !
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 87 
 
 For oh, another s soul with thine 
 
 Has mingled, like sweet thoughts at even, 
 
 And now no more through life may mine 
 To hope of love from thee be given ! 
 
 Yet oft, methinks, a languid smile, 
 
 That told of something strange and sweet, 
 Has dyed thy brow and cheek the while, 
 
 I ve kneeled in sadness at thy feet ! 
 But oh, the fleet and mocking sleep 
 
 That whispers such fond dreams to me, 
 Comes but to rouse me from its deep 
 
 Of bliss to endless misery. 
 I know and feel, alas ! too well! 
 
 The tie which binds me still to thee, 
 And, though far, far from thee I dwell, 
 
 Of thee my latest thought must be !
 
 A MOTHER S LOVE. 
 
 There is a star, whose ceaseless glow, 
 
 Through many a howling storm of night, 
 Its lustre sheds on all below, 
 
 And guides them by its heavenly light. 
 Though fitful storm-cloud madly frown, 
 
 And flaming lightnings round us hiss, 
 Its cheering beams come smiling down, 
 
 And wake the soul to endless bliss. 
 
 And when Temptation s tide flows near, 
 And Passion lures the heart to sin, 
 
 That star s soft light, like olden seer, 
 Resounds the warning cry within.
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 89 
 
 It guards the heart like ivied bower, 
 Shielding it from each shade of wo ; 
 
 And with a soft, resistless power, 
 Directs us in our course below ! 
 
 Oh ! worship well that star above, 
 
 That brilliant gleam in youth s dark path, 
 Tis Heaven s best gift a Mother s love, 
 
 The only deathless boon it hath ! 
 Then yield, and on the sacred spell 
 
 In trusting confidence rely, 
 And when the blasts of anguish swell 
 
 Twill guide thee by its glowing eye.
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 Like sunset gleams 
 
 That bathe the waking night in golden hue, 
 Sweet thoughts of thee, beloved, like gentle dew, 
 
 Steal o er my dreams ! 
 
 Then ask me not 
 
 To stifle thought ! sweet creature of the brain ! 
 How could my lonely spirit smile again 
 
 Wert tliou forgot ! 
 
 I might forget 
 
 If, from the selfish world, my soul could leap 
 To its dark tomb in some oblivious deep 
 
 Having tlice yet !
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 I could exclude 
 
 Earth s cold, deceitful image from my breast, 
 Having thy worshipped memory to make blest 
 
 My solitude ! 
 
 But as the beams 
 
 Of faithful stars cling to the storm-swept sky, 
 Though severed now by fate, my soul will sigh 
 
 For thee in dreams ! 
 
 Then ask me not 
 
 To crush the gem which gilds life with its light ! 
 Love clings around the soul with holiest might 
 
 When once begot ! 
 
 Still must we love ! 
 
 Though lone and weary be the world to each, 
 Beloved we shall be one ! fate cannot reach 
 
 The world above ! 
 
 9
 
 WE SMILE AND GAZE AT WOMAN S 
 CHARMS. 
 
 We smile and gaze at woman s charms, 
 
 When youth is brightly blooming, 
 And clasp them to our eager arms, 
 
 Enraptured with their pluming. 
 But ah ! when all these beauties fade, 
 
 With sorrow s sea before, 
 How can we view the wreck thus made 
 
 In those whom we adore ! 
 
 give to me that beauty true, 
 
 Deep in the heart s core sleeping ; 
 A soul of love to turn me to, 
 
 When the heart is sadly weeping. 
 Though years on sable pinions wing 
 
 Their silent flight away, 
 No withering blight, save death, can bring 
 
 Such beauty to decay !
 
 THOUGH FOREVER \\ T E HAVE PARTED. 
 
 " Long and mournful must it be, 
 
 The thought that we no more may meet." 
 
 BYRON: 
 
 Though forever we have parted, 
 
 As the living and the dead, 
 All my fondest hopes departed, 
 
 Hopes on which my soul hath fed ; 
 
 Though no more these arms embrace thee, 
 As they once were wont to do, 
 
 Though another s form now grace thee, 
 Breathing its fond vows to you ;
 
 94 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Though another s smile now bless thee, 
 Though another s heart he thine ; 
 
 Though another s love caress thee, 
 And no more thou mayst be mine : 
 
 Wilt thou not, when silence, stealing, 
 Lulls the passion-fiend within, 
 
 Think of him whose every feeling 
 Would from thee a kindred win ? 
 
 When soft twilight s purple flushes, 
 Kiss the growing shades of night, 
 And sad thought in secret gushes, 
 
 Clouding dreams more sweet and bright ; 
 
 Then with mournful spirit dwelling 
 On the hallowed moments fled, 
 
 Save one sigh for him whose swelling 
 Bosom oft for thee hath bled !
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 Friends of my youth ! when years have cast 
 
 Their griefs and cares around life s way, 
 Have brought the future to the past, 
 
 And darkened hopes now wild and gay ; 
 When Time s chill hand has scattered round 
 
 Its mete of sorrow, now unknown, 
 And buried in her silent mound, 
 
 All I have ever called my own ; 
 
 When Misery builds her dreary home, 
 Perchance within my breast begun, 
 
 And I am left alone to roam 
 
 Neath clouded sky and darkened sun ; 
 
 Then shall sweet visions oft review 
 The happy moments spent with thec, 
 
 And gentle dreams recall anew 
 
 These hours of all most dear to me ! 
 9*
 
 HOW LOVE WE TO GAZE ON THE 
 
 SCENES OF OUR YOUTH. 
 
 How love we to gaze on the scenes of our youth, 
 Those moments "when care shed no gloom o er 
 
 life s way ; 
 When all that beamed round us was glowing with 
 
 truth, 
 
 Undimrned by the canker of future decay ! 
 The spots we have loved and the haunts we have 
 
 cherished, 
 The stream o er whose ripple we sailed our small 
 
 bark, 
 Like dreams of delight they have all of them 
 
 perished, 
 
 And scenes which were dearest are rayle-ss and 
 dark.
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 97 
 
 The lawn where our play has so frequently led us, 
 
 No longer is blooming in beauty and grace ; 
 And the hand which in infancy tenderly fed us, 
 Has made that old spot now its cold charnel- 
 
 place ! 
 
 True, spring-time is with us, and roses are beaming 
 Like bright eyes at evening, through lashes of 
 
 dew ; 
 
 But the bush that to me with most beauty was teem 
 ing, 
 
 Like the hour of its birth, is now lost to the view. 
 give, give me back but life s earliest morning, 
 
 I ask not a joy that it does not contain ; 
 Give me back the gay hopes its dear pathway 
 
 adorning, 
 And fortune may frown as she please, all in vain!
 
 I SIGH, AND THINK OF THEE, LADY. 
 
 When Morn on rosy pinion hies, 
 To bathe in crimson hue the skies, 
 Though bright and beauteous to mine eyes 
 I sigh, and think of thee, Lady ! 
 
 "When Noon with golden radiance beams, 
 And sparkling nature round us gleams, 
 To soothe life with its fairy dreams, 
 
 I sigh, and think of thee, Lady ! 
 
 When spangled Eve with silver glows, 
 And wraps the world in calm repose, 
 Though soft its purple curtain close 
 
 I sigh, and think of thee, Lady !
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 99 
 
 When nightly shadows mantle earth, 
 When hushed the noisome song of mirth, 
 And silent joys receive their birth, 
 
 I sigh and think of thee, Lady ! 
 
 Ah, life is now a troubled thought, 
 A dream with anguish Avildly fraught, 
 A woe which faithful love hath sought 
 By fondly seeking thee, Lady. 
 
 Yes ! though thy heart ne er know the thrill 
 Of kindred passion to mine, still 
 Love may not alter as we will 
 
 And I can love but thee, Lady ! 
 
 And though thy gentle hand may now 
 Press tenderly anotJier s brow, 
 hear my last my holy vow 
 
 I live for thee, alone, Lady ! 
 
 Then save, ah ! save one thought for me, 
 When sadness steals o er life s bright sea ; 
 Tis all my soul dare ask of thee 
 
 Thou wilt not say it nay, Lady ?
 
 THE SUN OF JOY UPON THY BROW. 
 
 THE sun of joy upon thy brow sends forth its 
 golden beam, 
 
 And Youth and Beauty crown thce now, like angels 
 in a dream ; 
 
 No doubt, with dark, foreboding ill, thy spirit lives 
 to gloom, 
 
 Sweet thoughts and hallowed memories within thy 
 bosom bloom ! 
 
 The Future, like the faded Past, to thy dark, lus 
 trous eyes, 
 
 Unfolds, e en as that Past has done, an earth-born 
 Paradise ;
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 101 
 
 Unknown to sorrow s dismal touch, a stranger to 
 
 its care, 
 Life s day (0 might it e er he such !) to thec is 
 
 bright and fair ! 
 
 But maiden, soon will clouds descend, too soon will 
 
 ring the knell 
 Which summons wrinkles to the brow and crushes 
 
 beauty s spell; 
 And as the rose th&l fairest blooms the fleetest will 
 
 decay, 
 The joyful wreath that crowns thee, now, must 
 
 soonest fade away ! 
 Too soon will ice thy breast of fire, too soon grow 
 
 lone and chill 
 The happy hopes which wildly now within thy 
 
 bosom thrill ! 
 
 Oh, then will one impassioned heart which kneels 
 
 not at thy shrine, 
 Yield up its wealth of love to thee, and crave one 
 
 thought of thine ;
 
 102 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 One look, one smile, one gentle word, to light his 
 
 deadened breast, 
 One pressure of thy snowy hand, to make that 
 
 bosom blest ! 
 Then one devoted heart shall cling, like ivy to the 
 
 pile, 
 And, like its faithful tendrils, worship thy deserted 
 
 smile, 
 Will seek a home near thy despair its name with 
 
 thine enrol, 
 And soothe thee as sweet midnight dreams can 
 
 soothe the sinking soul !
 
 HAIL BEAUTIFUL SPRING. 
 
 " Spring with its rose-btids ! Spring, 
 The gladdest time in the capricious year, 
 AVith its green foliage, and its sunlight clear." 
 
 AY . II. BURLEV. 
 
 Hail beautiful Spring ! with joy do I greet thee, 
 Bedecked in thy mantle of purple and green ; 
 
 The heart in its rapture leaps forward to meet thee, 
 And sportively revel amid thy soft sheen ! 
 
 Awakens within us thy sweetness alluring, 
 
 Sad thoughts of affection now eager and true ; 
 
 Like thee, at their birth, they seem bright and 
 enduring, 
 
 But with thee decaying as fast as they grew. 
 10
 
 104 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Full soon shall thy buds lie all scattered and dying, 
 Their spirits departed, their fond beauty dead ; 
 
 And the cold blasts of winter hoar over thee sighing, 
 "VVaft out the sweet odours thy zephyrs now shed. 
 
 Why, why, then, thy glittering fountains of plea 
 sure, 
 
 Exhaling their fragrance upon the mild air, 
 If not to instruct us in life we must treasure 
 
 Its sources of comfort while yet they are fair ? 
 let curtained Future be black to our viewing, 
 
 With dark, evil hours of grieving and tears ; 
 With Present enjoyment why think of storm brew 
 ing, 
 
 Or seek to torment us with presaging fears ?
 
 MUSIC, A SONNET. 
 
 Sweet strains that sweep and sweeping gently swell, 
 
 Till ye intoxicate the bursting soul, 
 What is it wakes thy soft mysterious spell 
 
 As o er the heart thy gentle numbers roll ! 
 The brain floats on thy softly waving tone, 
 
 As faintly on the list ning air it creeps ; 
 While echoing fondness answers to thine own, 
 
 And kindred sadness through the bosom sweeps. 
 Springs up a new existence ! like the life 
 
 Of some eternal spirit in the breast, 
 Breathing a joyful calmness o er its strife 
 
 Soothing its sorrows to a tranquil rest ; 
 Till as ye fade, in slow, expiring swell, 
 
 The heart is melted neath thy thrilling spell !
 
 SONNET TO 
 
 As some bright beam of glory softly played 
 
 The gentle beaming of those hazel eyes, 
 When first on me they shone ; sweet, timid maid, 
 
 And stirred within my breast a world of sighs ! 
 Thy heaving bosom to mine own is pressed, 
 
 Though time has withered since the hour we met, 
 Tliy soul s best love mine own has fondly blessed, 
 
 And we are one in kindred feeling yet ! 
 Thy brilliant beauty, like some heavenly light, 
 
 Still dearer grows as years are winged away ; 
 Thine eyes soft beams to me are pure and bright, 
 
 And welcome, as the unforgotten day 
 When first, in silent rapture, they confest 
 The spell which slept within thy faithful breast !
 
 PAST MEMORIES. 
 
 "There s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 When drinking the nectar of bliss so beguiling, 
 
 When beauty like magic enlightens each cloud, 
 We often forget, mid the joy round us smiling, 
 
 The loved who have left us to mould in the shroud. 
 But each thrill of enjoyment within the pulse swell 
 ing, 
 
 Awakens its echoes of sadness and pain ; 
 And we turn to the past, o er each fond moment 
 dwelling, 
 
 And weep that its glory can come not again ! 
 10*
 
 108 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Though Hope shed her ray from the sky that is 
 
 o er us, 
 And friendship s sweet smile not a care may 
 
 o ercast, 
 We leave the dim shadows of pleasure before us, 
 
 As memory recalls us the joys that are past. 
 The gay laugh of youth which we once loved to hear, 
 
 Now wakes no reply save a feeling of gloom, 
 And the eye of affection is dimmed by a tear, 
 As thought points it back to the friend in the 
 
 tomb ! 
 
 No, the world has no charm its gay pathway adorn 
 ing) 
 
 Like those we have sadly seen fading away ; 
 And though still it may gleam with the brightness 
 
 of morning, 
 The joy we have lost it can never repay !
 
 WHEREFORE CALL ST THOU MEMORY 
 FOND. 
 
 Oh ! wherefore call st thou memory fond, 
 
 Which decks the past in wild delight, 
 And gilds it with a magic wand, 
 
 To steep the present hours in night ; 
 Ah, wherefore call st thou memory fond, 
 
 Which wakes the voice of friendships dead, 
 Which breathes anew that spirit bond 
 
 To prove it s weeped-for pleasures dead ! 
 Why call that fond which can but live 
 
 To taunt the soul with vain regrets ; 
 Which pictures joys it cannot give, 
 
 Though burning tears it oft begets !
 
 110 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Ah, if the heart has ever knelt 
 
 A happy captive at love s shrine, 
 
 Has ever that wild passion felt, 
 
 "Which thrills it with a power divine : 
 
 How can it wish to wander o er 
 
 Those hours so rife with scenes of bliss, 
 When all that blest them is no more, 
 
 And they may only sadden this ? 
 For who can dwell without a tear, 
 
 Upon the rosy hours gone by, 
 With worshipped friends than life more dear,- 
 
 And view their death without a sigh ? 
 Ay ! though a green oasic spot 
 
 May bloom amid the sterile plain, 
 Its very beauty darks the blot, 
 
 Which gives the present hour its pain !
 
 I LOVE THEE, I LOVE THEE. 
 
 I love thee, oh ! I love thee ! 
 
 By the heaven that s bright above me, 
 
 Thine heart-graven image I cannot forget ! 
 Then turn not away, dearest, 
 Though all else decay, dearest, 
 
 Love me, love me, impassion dly yet ! 
 
 As sunlight to flowers, 
 
 In life s fleeting hours, 
 So is thy blest love to my deep, yearning soul ; 
 
 And when by thy side, 
 
 In the young even-tide, 
 A whirlwind of bliss over life seems to roll !
 
 112 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 In the long, sleepless night, 
 
 When the welkin is bright, 
 I see thy kind smile in the soft, formless air ; 
 
 And then these eyes gaze, 
 
 Till Morn s growing haze 
 Dispels the sweet vision to prove thee not there. 
 
 Oh ! then with hollow groan, 
 
 My spirit seems to moan, 
 For one more hour of such delightful pain ; 
 
 Until the dying day 
 
 Has gently passed away, 
 And then thy spirit steals to mine again ! 
 
 But well, too well I know 
 
 Thy being, here below, 
 Can ne er to mine a kindred being be, 
 
 Yet vain, ah ! torture vain 
 
 This striving to restrain 
 The fervent love which wakes my heart to thee !
 
 IMPROMPTU LINES TO A FRIEND. 
 
 As from the thousand stars which smile 
 O er ocean s wildly surging hreast, 
 
 The mariner seeks but one, the while, 
 To guide his weary bark to rest : 
 
 So I, from out the friends most near, 
 
 In after years shall turn to thee ; 
 As one whose friendship was more dear 
 Than all the selfish world s to me !
 
 WHEN MUSIC FLOATS THROUGH 
 MARBLED HALLS. 
 
 When music floats through marbled halls, 
 
 Breathing its gentle strains divine, 
 Where sapphires light the dazzling walls, 
 
 And gems of sparkling splendor shine ; 
 When mirth and laughter thrill the soul, 
 
 And loved ones round thee fondly press, - 
 I would not o er that hour should roll 
 
 One pang to make its pleasure less ! 
 
 I could not wish that tJtou shouklst know 
 These rending hopes this tearless grief- 
 
 These bitter hours of silent woe 
 For which the world has no relief !
 
 MOMENTS OP SOLITUDE. 115 
 
 But oh, when Twilight, like a dream, 
 Steals softly down on purple wings ; 
 
 When stars peep forth with silver beam, 
 And silence round her mantle flings ; 
 
 When every echoing note is hushed, 
 
 And evening sinks on hill and dell, 
 When Memory s brow grows warm and flushed, 
 
 And Nature weaves her mystic spell ; 
 Breathe, breathe thy kindly prayer for one, 
 
 Who loved thee as he ne er could tell ; 
 Who turned to thee, like flower to sun, 
 
 Whose fault was worshiping too well ! 
 
 11
 
 SWEET MAID OF LOCHNARE. 
 
 : That merry heart, that cannot lie 
 Within its warm nest quietly. 
 But ever, from the full dark eye, 
 Is looking kindly night and morn." 
 
 WILLIS. 
 
 tell me not of the dark-eyed maid 
 
 Who dwells in the warmth of a southern clime ! 
 Who tunes her guitar neath the myrtle s shade, 
 
 Like a fairy-queen in the summer-time ! 
 Sweet maid of Lochnare ! Sweet maid of Lochnare ! 
 
 What eye upon earth can compare, love, with 
 
 thine ? 
 
 What bosom so true, ah, what heart would not 
 share 
 
 Its term of existence with one so divine ?
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 117 
 
 Then tell me not of the high-born dame 
 
 "\Vlio roams through a palace of glittering gold ; 
 Her beauty and loveliness lie in the name, 
 
 And her heart is as false as her bosom is cold. 
 Sweet maid of Lochnare ! Sweet maid of Loclmare 
 
 Be thou the fond idol I worship alone ; 
 For show me the maiden on earth can compare 
 
 Her loveliness, beauty or truth with thine own !
 
 LINES TO 
 
 When youth s first warm, impassioned dream, 
 Has known its fleet and chill decay ; 
 
 When we have seen life s only beam 
 In silent sadness fade away : 
 
 Friendship alone can soothe the sorrow 
 Which feeds upon the aching heart, 
 
 And from Tier cheering smile we borrow 
 The charm to bid our gloom depart. 
 
 Then Lady, should this plaintive lay 
 Awake from thee one kindly thought, 
 
 To shed a lustre on life s way 
 
 With many a gloomy moment fraught,
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 119 
 
 I ll know that there is one whose heart 
 With Friendship s vestal flame burns high, 
 
 To glad the clouds that wildly dart 
 In darkness o er the Future s sky. 
 
 Ah, then full many a joy shall thrill, 
 And in this sorrowing bosom blend, 
 
 As faithful Memory paints thee still 
 The one I m proud to call a friend. 
 
 11*
 
 IT IS PAST. 
 
 " No pleasures, hopes, affections gone 
 The wretch may bear and yet live on, 
 Like things within the cold rock found, 
 Alive, when all s congealed around. 
 But there s a blank repose in this, 
 A calm stagnation that were bliss, 
 To the keen, burning, harrowing pain, 
 Now felt through all that breast and brain." 
 
 MOOUE. 
 
 It is past ! It is past ! and the spirit awak ing, 
 Sinks back from its vision too happy to last ; 
 The heart that adored thee is lonely and breaking, 
 The hopes that were brightest thy pride has 
 
 o ercast ! 
 
 With feelings of anguish I stand on the spot, 
 Where our vows we first plighted, our love we 
 
 exchanged ; 
 Like the moment we breathed them those vows are 
 
 forgot, 
 And we who were warmest are cold and estranged.
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 121 
 
 No tear dims thine eye when fond memories 
 
 awaken, 
 
 No sigh for the moments of bliss that are gone ; 
 Yet the heart that adored thee thou st coldly for 
 saken, 
 
 And left it to wither in sorrow alone ! 
 The chill voice of envy has served thee to sever, 
 The bond which, though faithless, thou blushed 
 
 not to own, 
 
 And with it this besom hath parted forever, 
 With the fleet spell of gladness its spirit hath 
 known. 
 
 Farewell ! may thy life be as bright and un 
 clouded, 
 As mine thou hast darkened with remed less 
 
 woe ; 
 May thine be brilliant as mine is shrouded, 
 
 And Angels watch o er thee and keep thee 
 below !
 
 122 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 The heart thou hast wounded now beats as before, 
 
 Though happy as then it can ne er be again ; 
 The hopes which once warmed it can warm it no 
 
 more 
 
 Where it once throbbed with pleasure, it now 
 throbs with pain !
 
 WHY WAKE THE LYRE TO SING THY 
 CHARMS ? 
 
 Why wake the lyre to sing thy charms, 
 
 Or eulogize thy mellow voice 
 When they are for another s arms, 
 
 And wait a happier being s choice ? 
 That love which from the silent eye 
 
 With rapture fires the sternest frame, 
 Speaks more in one, lone, trembling sigh, 
 
 Than volumes of cold words can name ! 
 
 And such, dear friend, the spell /feel, 
 
 The calm but lasting tie of life ; 
 No less when Joy her form reveal, 
 
 Or darkened by contentious strife. 
 And, though I nurture not the hope 
 
 Of kindred love for one another, 
 As to a sister s breast I ll ope 
 
 The warmest friendship of a brother.
 
 THY THIN LIP TREMBLED. 
 
 "Thy voice its low, soft, fervent, farewell tone 
 Thrilled through the tempest of the parting strife." 
 
 HEMAXS. 
 
 Thy thin lip trembled with thy deep devotion, 
 When last we severed, torn by fate apart ; 
 
 Thy voice was burdened by the wild emotion, 
 I knew not then was warring in thy heart ! 
 
 Thine eye was moistened by the kindly feeling, 
 Which pride so fiercely, vainly strove to hide ; 
 
 And oft thy look of agony conies stealing, 
 
 Though now a joyless wanderer from thy side. 
 
 Xo parting word, no vow of love was spoken, 
 To tell the anguish of the bursting heart ; 
 
 We only felt the last fond link was broken, 
 We only knew we must forever part.
 
 POOR HEART BE STILL. 
 
 Poor heart be still, and cease to long 
 For rosy joys thou ne er canst taste, 
 
 Xor seek amid life s giddy throng, 
 
 Earth s flowers to deck thy wreck-strewn waste. 
 
 Alas, poor heart, too well I know 
 
 The hitter mockeries which spring, 
 And from the selfish fountains flow, 
 
 Where Pleasure dips her envious wing ! 
 
 There s not a touch of softest bliss 
 Around the heart in rapture weaves, 
 
 But bears a poison in its kiss, 
 
 To blight the fleeting joy it gives !
 
 FILL UP, WE LL DROWN AT LEAST TO 
 NIGHT. 
 
 Fill up, we ll drown, at least to night, 
 
 Each gloomy thought of care and sorrow ; 
 For once our hearts shall all be light, 
 
 Whate er awaits them on the morrow. 
 Whatever pangs the tortured soul 
 
 May sadly, darkly cluster round it, 
 We ll drown them in the blushing bowl, 
 
 And break to night the spell that s bound it. 
 
 Ay, fill again the crimson glass, 
 
 Let love grow cold or friendship sever, 
 We ll drain the goblet as it pass, 
 
 And dream to night they live forever. 
 Tis well to still the aching heart, 
 
 In moments thus so free from sorrow, 
 So fill, fill high until we part, 
 
 Whate er awaits us in the morrow.
 
 LIFE AND THE ROSE. 
 
 In the Morning s dawning beam, 
 Wakes a young Rose from its dream ; 
 Beauty smiles upon its cheek, 
 Painting joys she cannot speak ; 
 "While the Sun-god s vestal ray 
 Sparkles round it in his way. 
 
 But the noon-time s burning glow 
 Withers every shrub below, 
 And that Rose no longer bright , 
 Shrinks in terror from the light ; 
 Till the stem on which it grew 
 
 Droops beneath its fading hue. 
 12
 
 128 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Then to quench its eager thirst, 
 Gentle dews around it burst, 
 Kiss the pale leaves o er and o er, 
 Till they gaily smile once more ; 
 And the Night, like breath of spring, 
 Greets it with a peaceful wring. 
 
 Like that Rose, when young and gay, 
 Pleasures sparkle on our way ; 
 Joy attends us with his beam, 
 Hope illumines every dream, 
 Till the noon of life, less fair, 
 Dawns upon us with its care. 
 
 Then how sweet, when grief is near, 
 Falls the sympathising tear ! 
 Steals like dew to withered flower, 
 In life s sad and gloomy hour ! 
 How we turn, like flower to dew, 
 Love and friendship then to you !
 
 AND AM I THEN FORGOTTEN? 
 
 "And am I then forgot, forgot?" 
 
 CAMPBELL. 
 
 And am I then forgotten ? does the heart 
 Which erst at parting trembled to mine own, 
 
 No longer to the mournful image start, 
 
 And sigh for moments, but too quickly flown ? 
 
 Does thy fair bosom, like the lilied flower, 
 No longer waste its passing thoughts on me ? 
 
 And hast thou, then, forgot the gentle hour 
 
 Thou once would st have none other share with 
 thee ?
 
 1-30 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 No ! memories of the hallowed moments gone, 
 Like blasting serpents round thy heart must move; 
 
 And thou must ever feel, though living on, 
 Like me the agony of hopeless love. 
 
 And when the name of him, whom tearless fate 
 So sadly from thy trusting bosom tore, 
 
 Is breathed, and thou like him art desolate, 
 And weep for joys we each may feel no more ; 
 
 Ah well I know thy deep, confiding soul, 
 
 Though severed now on earth no more to meet, 
 
 Though it may all its misery control, 
 
 Can ne er forget save when it cease to beat !
 
 LOVE, HOPE, AND FEAR. 
 
 Love lay like an angel bright, 
 In the evening s jewelled light, 
 Breathing many a trembling sigh, 
 As the night-winds murmured by. 
 
 Fear, like cunning serpent, sprang 
 To pierce the cherub with his fang 
 From the fury in his eye, 
 
 Love sank back with stifled cry. 
 12"
 
 132 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 But before the jealous dart 
 Sank, unpitying, to iris heart, 
 Hope, a Peri from the sky, 
 Crushed the fiend and bade him die ; 
 Kissed the pallid brow of Love, 
 And bore him to the world above. 
 
 Like young Love this faithful breast 
 Turns to thee, its Hope, for rest ; 
 Wilt thou not Hope s welcome give, 
 Crush its doubt and bid it live ?
 
 WHAT ARE LIFE S JOYS. 
 
 What are life s joys 
 
 That we most treasure 
 Vanishing toys 
 
 Moments of pleasure ! 
 Moments of laughter 
 
 Through sorrowing years, 
 "Woe striding after 
 
 In silence and tears ! 
 
 Day dreams of promise 
 
 Glimmering near ; 
 Slow fading from us 
 
 Whenever most dear ! 
 Taunt me no longer 
 
 With the bright bubbles ; 
 Beeper and stronger 
 
 Life s many troubles.
 
 CHECK NOT, CHECK NOT, THAT 
 TEARLY TEAR. 
 
 Check not, check not that pearly tear, 
 
 Which glistens on thy pensive cheek ; 
 Sweet emblem of a heart sincere 
 
 It speaks what nothing else could speak ! 
 Then let it flow, nor blush to hide 
 
 What flattered beauty seldom feels ; 
 And I will dream, thus at thy side, 
 
 For me its lonely current steals. 
 
 Yes ! Though amid the gay and proud, 
 
 The tutored smile of worldly pride 
 Be coined for those who round thee crowd, 
 
 And all thy gentler feelings hide : 
 The silent tears which trembling start, 
 
 Like sparkling drops of purest dew, 
 Shall prove thce whit I know thou art 
 
 As lovely as thy soul is true !
 
 SUNSET. 
 
 Yon flaming orb, like infant to its rest, 
 
 Sinks trembling clown amid the crimsoned liue 
 Of blushing clouds, -which kiss the azure breast 
 
 Of skies that revel in their boundless blue. 
 Bright as the last, quick spark of ling ring life, 
 
 The iris beam now quivers in the sky ; 
 Breathing the last breath of a glorious strife, 
 
 Ere it sink back in nothingness to die. 
 
 Like roseate down upon the ether there, 
 
 Floats many a soft and crown-like, burnished 
 cloud ; 
 
 As Sol, departing, shakes his golden hair, 
 And scatters glory through the airy crowd.
 
 136 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Tipped with his radiant beams, the waving trees, 
 Like emeralds floating in a golden lake, 
 
 Spread out their leaves upon the evening breeze, 
 To catch the glow encircling hill and brake. 
 
 Sunset ! I love thee ! with thy purple shade, 
 
 Coming to shed a kindred glory through the 
 
 soul ! 
 And as thy varied tints in darkness fade, 
 
 Till clouds, like banners, o er thy last rays roll ; 
 Bright are the thoughts, which, like thine own pale 
 beams, 
 
 Steal silently and fondly to the heart ; 
 Coming with thee, like softly-fleeting dreams, 
 
 Then with thy beauty tremblingly depart !
 
 EXTRACTS FROM A POEM TITLED 
 SPIRIT OF LOVE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Why do we live ? the question echoing rings 
 Through cottages of serfs and palaces of kings; 
 Oh ! is it not for her whom every tie endears 
 As the soul s guardian through enduring years? 
 
 O v 
 
 Her angel smile veils gloom however drear. 
 Her nod the failing spirit renders brave ; 
 
 Her voice the blackest misery can cheer, 
 And soothe the clouded pathway to the grave ! 
 
 Lo, pallid victim of undying toil, 
 Through what dull scenes of penury thou st gone ! 
 
 Ilow st hovered near the pall of grief to foil 
 Each tint of sunshine ere it scarce was born !
 
 138 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Still, still for thee an ever-winning smile, 
 To bless thy sadder moments love hath given ;- 
 
 Make bitter agony more sweet the while, 
 And picture Pain a harbinger of Heaven ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Sweet, sweet to you who see the smile 
 Of Beauty cheer you on through life ; 
 
 Whose fond affection may beguile 
 
 The world s harsh ills and bitter strife, 
 And soothe the aching heart : 
 
 But woe, oh, tearless woe to whom 
 
 That smile hath marbled neath the sod ; 
 
 Who ve seen that form fade in the tomb, 
 And, crushed to earth beneath fate s rod, 
 Have found their fondest hopes depart ! 
 
 Tune not the harp to lays of mirth, 
 
 For those from whom love s joys have sped ;
 
 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 10 
 
 Ne er more the spirit smiles on earth, 
 When once its golden dreams have fled ! 
 
 Yet ye whose nighted souls of lead, 
 His heavenly bliss have never known, 
 
 To whose eternal carol dead, 
 
 Life s agony has deeper grown ; 
 
 Go find a friend, and, giving heart for heart. 
 
 In bonds of sympathy live fondly on ; 
 
 then shall all thine anxious griefs depart, 
 
 And sunshine blend thy beings into one ! 
 
 III. 
 
 When thrills the music of Love s golden lyre, 
 What bursting heart his power will dare deny ? 
 
 What soul can feel, unwarmed, his glowing fire, 
 Or lose remembrance of his burning sigh ? 
 
 Cold, cold that bosom where the star of love 
 
 Its genial warmth hath never, soft ning, shed ; 
 
 Like life-wrecks o er earth s desert-beach they move 
 
 Ah, happier were they numbered with the dead 
 13
 
 140 MOMENTS OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 The shadowy mists above us darkly grouping, 
 Wreathe deep in gloom the passage of its crest ; 
 
 But shows its melting form fierce troubles drooping, 
 And sorrow gliding down to endless rest. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ah, sweet to dream of love when life 
 
 Glows with the sunshine of its beam ; 
 When with its joys our homes are rife, 
 
 And with its rays our pathways gleam ; 
 When the fond kiss of welcome leaps 
 
 Forth from the lips of those most dear, 
 And in the heart serenely sleeps 
 
 The thought that kindred love is near ! 
 But rob mankind of love ! tell each lone soul 
 
 No more the cords of sympathy must twine, - 
 Tell mutual hearts to doff its sweet control, 
 
 To yield to death life s fairest, greenest vine: 
 And in the breast is left an aching void, 
 
 A restless longing for we know not what ; 
 A seeking after something ne er enjoyed,
 
 MOMENTS OP SOLITUDE. 141 
 
 A burning wish for that which earth has not- 
 With friendship faded, or with love forgot ! 
 
 V. 
 
 And does affection fade, like the young leaf 
 Of blooming summer, when the autumn-thief 
 Draws chilling near ? Does true affection die 
 When shrieks the sweeping storm across life s sky ? 
 
 Go bid old ocean in his wild, 
 
 Untutored passion to grow mild ! 
 
 Go gaze upon the golden sun, 
 
 And bid his lamp grow dark and dun ; 
 
 Or, with a tear, resolve the earth 
 
 To chaos as it was at birth ! 
 
 0, sooner far, dare all than strive 
 
 To blot affection from the breast ! 
 
 Twere easier, with a look, to drive 
 
 The rock-bound tower from its rest !
 
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