THE 
 
 .EGEND OF THE ROCKS, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS. 
 
inn 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 BY JAMES NAGS. 
 
 There is a living spirit in the lyre. 
 A breath of music and a soul of fire ; 
 It speaks a language to the world unknown 5 
 It speaks that language to the Bard alone." 
 
 MONTGOMERY 
 
 SZW-YORK : 
 
 PRINTED BY E. CONRAD 
 
 11 FRAKKFOKT-ST. 
 
 1827. 
 

 Southern District of A ew-Forfe, ss. 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 15th day of 
 August, A. D. 1827, in the52d year of the Independence 
 I of the United States of America, Abraham Asten, of the 
 said District, hath deposited in this office, the Title of a 
 Book, the right whereof, he claims as Proprietor, in the 
 words following, to wit: 
 The Legend of the Rocks, and other Poems By James Nack " There 
 is a living spirit in the lyre, A breath of muvic, and a soul of fire ; It 
 speaks a language to the world unknown ; It speaks that language to 
 the Sard alone /" MONTGOMERY. 
 
 In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled 
 " An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of 
 Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and proprietors of such co 
 pies, during the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, entitled 
 An Act, supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encourage 
 ment ot Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and BOOKS, 
 to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein 
 mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, 
 engraving, and etching historical and other prints." FRED. j. BETTS. 
 Clerk of the Southern District of New-York. 
 
TO 
 
 WXLLIAK A. SEEL7, ESQ. 
 
 THIS VOLUME, 
 
 AS A TRIBUTE OX 1 
 
 ESTEEM, GRATITUDE, AND AFFECTION, 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY HIS OBLIGED, HUMBLE SERVART, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M189263 
 
POEMS, 
 
 BY JAMES 
 
 teeuttft- 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ROCKS 
 
 O NATURE, canst thou smile serene, 
 While havoc stalks around the scene ? 
 The dazzling rider of the skies 
 Bends from his car with laughing eyes ; 
 And, warbling down the mountain s side, 
 The torrent sends its rapid tide, 
 Till rocky fragments check its path ; 
 Awhile it foams in seeming wrath. 
 Then, bounding o er the barrier s force. 
 Again it smiles upon its course, 
 
 A2 
 
And gliding calm beneath, it winds 
 Till briny Ocean s arms it finds. 
 
 But no congenial sounds attend 
 With its wild melody to blend ; 
 No feather d warblers throng the trees, 
 Whose leaflets trembling kiss the breeze 
 No birds but birds of prey, are there. 
 Who for a bloody feast prepare. 
 No lovers there in accents sweet, 
 Their ardent vows of truth repeat ; 
 Instead of Love s enchanting sound, 
 The roar of battle spreads around : 
 The shout of Victory the yell 
 Of death a concert terrible ! 
 
 Mark yonder youth, with rapid stride. 
 Jlushing, with carnage at his side, 
 O er dying foes, while from his might 
 The living safety seek in flight ; 
 Or, if they dare oppose him, all 
 Beneath his boyish prowess fall* 
 
 But see, to check his bright career, 
 A foe of kindred soul appear, 
 Rushing alone to the attack, 
 Waving his craven followers back* 
 
( 1 ) 
 
 The foes before his arms who fled, 
 The heir of Carodale had led 
 Beside a mountain torrent, gushing 
 O er scatter d rocks, beneath it blushing 
 With many a streak whose bloody trace 
 It veils, but never can efface. 
 
 Sudden he started, faint and pale. 
 The fatal Rocks of Carodale 
 He recogniz d, by legends old 
 111 omen d to his race foretold. 
 
 Tis said, the first that on the name 
 Of Carodale bestow d its fame, 
 Led in the eager chase astray 
 Here wander d at the close of day : 
 He threw r himself the stream beside, 
 Lull d by the murmur of its tide, 
 And by the day s fatigue opprest 
 Welcom d the soft embrace of rest. 
 
 At midnight hour his slumbers fled, 
 He started from his grassy bed ; 
 The spangled diadem of night 
 Resplendent beam d upon his sight : 
 But while his glance regardless turning, 
 From the bright gems above him burning, 
 Toward a mountain, where appear d 
 A rocky pyramid uprear d : 
 
( 3 ) 
 
 Backward he started with amaze. 
 Then turn d again, with eager gaze. 
 The nature of the form to seek 
 Descried upon the giddy peak. 
 
 Might it not be a cloud of heaven, 
 Its form of life by fancy given ? 
 But hark, that sound ! repressing fear, 
 Rush d Carodale impetuous near. 
 
 Nearer and nearer as he drew 
 The form receded from his view, 
 Hid by the mountain, but its height 
 Attain d, again upon his sight 
 The apparition burst a maid 
 From head to foot in white array d. 
 
 Silent and motionless they stood, 
 He would have spoken if he could, 
 But a resistless awe had flung 
 The wand of silence on his tongue. 
 
 At last she spoke : " Say, warrior, why 
 Thy fear ? A timid maid am I, 
 Who, far from being fear d, might be 
 As others would, afraid of thee." 
 k < My lady fair, in battle day 
 I shrink not from the arm d array ; 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 But here to find thee at this hour, 
 Awaken d Superstition s power, 
 That would, despite of reason, tell 
 Thou from a world invisible 
 Hadst come, th unhallow d eyes to blast 
 Around thy haunts presumptuous cast. 
 
 But laughing at those vain alarms, 
 Superior alone in charms 
 To others of thy sex, I trust 
 To find thee. if my thoughts be just. 
 
 But lady, it were haply rude 
 On what concerns thee to intrude : 
 
 What to myself relates I tell " 
 
 " And that I know already well ; 
 For though we never met btfurc, 
 Thy name I know thy deeds in war : 
 I know what brought to yonder vale 
 The gallant Lord of Carodale. 
 But haste thee, haste thee to my halls, 
 The dew of night around thee falls." 
 
 She took his hand at once the light 
 Of heaven, vanish d from his sight, 
 Above around where er his eye 
 Was turn d, it found but darkness nigh : 
 He felt a momentary thrill 
 But on her path attended still. 
 
Suddenly bursting on his gaze, 
 Ten thousand thousand meteors blaze. 
 Now o er the skies resplendent roll d, 
 They wave a sea of flaming gold ; 
 Asunder then from their embraces 
 They burst, and each the other chases. 
 Dancing upon its flaming wing 
 On high, in bright fantastic ring : 
 And then in showery spangles, all 
 Like stars dethron d from heaven fall ; 
 Like serpents wreath d they then aspire, 
 A dazzling pyramid of fire. 
 But brighter far around was thrown 
 The light in Beauty s eye that shone ; 
 Where er he turn d, some bright-ey d maid 
 A heav n of loveliness display d ; 
 But she, the guide of Carodale, 
 Disrob d her beauty of its veil, 
 And stood before his eyes confest, 
 The brightest and the loveliest. 
 
 As sweetly rose the voice of song, 
 With airy step they trip d along 
 Around th admiring stranger, who 
 A wond ring glance upon them threw; 
 Then turning to his guide, he said, 
 " Fair lady, whither am I led ? 
 And who are these ? And who art thou ?" 
 Clouds darken on the lady s brow, 
 
Sudden the meteor s blaze expires, 
 Then burst again their thousand fires, 
 Disclosing only by their light, 
 The lady and the wond ring knight." 
 
 " Whatever thou shall hear or see, 
 Its nature dare not ask of me, 
 For this is all that I may tell, 
 I love thee and I love thee well 1" 
 
 He starts, as to his ear are sent, 
 Breathing unearthly ravishment, 
 Those words of love of blessedness 
 In a delirium of bliss 
 He bows her loveliness before ; 
 il I thought that 1 might scarce adore, 
 But oh ! shall I the bliss obtain 
 To love and be belov d again ? 
 And may I dare to call thee mine ?" 
 " Yes, I am thine, forever thine ; 
 But if thou dare forget this hour, 
 Awaits thee my avenging power ; 
 Let but thy truth a moment fail, 
 And tremble, Lord of Carodale ! 
 I ll clasp thee in the arms of death, 
 I ll yield with thine my dying breath ; 
 Come life come death we shall not sever, 
 For thou are mine, and mine forever!" 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 Oft as the moonlight fair displayed 
 The mountain imag d in its shade, 
 Upon its head might be descried 
 The knight, awaiting for his bride, 
 Till she arriv d at midnight hour, 
 To lead him to her fairy bower. 
 
 O who the maid could look upon 
 The Lord of Carodale had won, 
 And think the heart that once he gave her, 
 Could ever for a moment waver ? 
 
 The poet s and the lover s dream, 
 That lends to its ideal theme 
 The loveliness to earth denied, 
 Might find in her, and none beside, 
 The bright original, array d 
 In all by Fancy s tints pourtray d. 
 O Woman, canst thou hope to find 
 A heart that constancy will bind, 
 When she with whom, however fair, 
 None under heaven might compare, 
 E en the bride of Carodale, 
 Was doom d his falsehood to bewail ! 
 
 Sure of his falsehood and her fate, 
 His coming she would still await, 
 Till midnight hour arriv d and past, 
 When sinking from her rock at last, 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 She sought her fairy bower, forlorn. 
 The rapid flight of Love to mourn. 
 
 Tis midnight hour the meteor s glare- 
 Flashing entwines the mountain, there 
 Upon its pinnacle disclosing 
 The Lord of Carodale reposing ; 
 Upon a rocky bed he lies, 
 His canopy the starless skies. 
 
 And who is she half bending hung 
 Above, her arms around him flung . ? 
 He dreams tis she whom to obtain. 
 The great the brave had sought in vain. 
 Till she in Carodale confest 
 At last the idol of her breast : 
 And could he with unkind neglect 
 An offer d paradise reject ? 
 Forgetful that his heart and hand 
 Another justly might demand. 
 To all except her beauty blind. 
 He both to Adelaide resigned. 
 
 Not her s the arms that clasp him now. 
 Not her s that lightning girdled brow 
 That eye of fire that voice of fear 
 Bursting upon his startled ear. 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 " Awake thee, Carodale, awake, 
 And from the arms that clasp thee break." 
 
 He started burst from her embrace. 
 But stood transfix d upon the place, 
 As if some spell upon him thrown, 
 Had petrified his limbs to stone : 
 His eyes like death s were fix d and glaz d 
 As on the fire of her s they gaz d, 
 While on his ear appalling fell 
 Her accents soft but terrible. 
 
 : O dearly shall thy race regret 
 The hour that we together met ; 
 The hour 1 was thy victim made, 
 My love by perjury repaid. 
 Full many a bride like thine shall mourn. 
 The husband from her bosom tdrn ; 
 Full many a child like thine shall weep 
 For sires in bloody graves who sleep, 
 Victims to my avenging power 
 Thy race attending from this hour. 
 Till on these rocks our mingled gore 
 Shall blush to tell our fate no more. - 
 Her arms again were thrown around him ; 
 Firm the embrace in which they bound him, 
 In vain he struggled in their hold ; 
 Together headlong down they roll d, 
 
While thus her fearful words ascended, 
 His dying groans among them blended : 
 " I clasp thee in the anus of death, 
 I yield with thine my dying breath : 
 Whom death unites, no power shall sever. 
 For thou art mine, and mine forever !* 
 
 As blushing in their crimson dye 
 The rocks addrest his startled eye. 
 The memory of Carodale 
 Recall d the oft repeated tale, 
 In this at least appearing true, 
 Some curse did all his race pursue, 
 That to his brave arm d fathers gave 
 An early and a bloody grave, 
 And many a bride and orphan left 
 Of husbands and of sires bereft. 
 
 The influence of this curse as yet. 
 His father nor himself had met, 
 For all was shower d upon his sire 
 Love or ambition could require ; 
 An angel bride who lov d him dearly, 
 An offspring who reflected clearly 
 Their mother s loveliness, combin d 
 With their heroic father s mind. 
 
( 16 ) 
 
 The heroes of his native land 
 Were sway d beneath his high command. 
 And though of these not one but found 
 What each deserv d, a name renown d, 
 Sooner the trembling stars would dare 
 Their glories with the sun s compare, 
 Than they from fame s award to claim 
 With Carodale an equal name. 
 And he, the hero s youthful son, 
 A name among the brave had won 
 In former fields, and why in this 
 Should he expect the same to miss ? 
 
 Not long by that heroic breast 
 Was Superstition s fear confest ; 
 He turn d, the coming foe he brav d ; 
 Upon their swords, contending wav d, 
 As round the warriors helms they flew 
 The sun his dazzling image threw, 
 As pleas d upon their valour gazing 
 He twin d for each a halo blazing 
 With radiant glory, from his own 
 Effulgency reflected throAvn. 
 
 Their boyish lineaments proclaim 
 The heroes are in age the same ; 
 And as they struggle in the fight, 
 The same you would declare their might. 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 For A ictory appears to rest " 
 Alternate upon either crest, 
 Uncertain where at last to fling. 
 The glory of her dazzling wing. 
 
 Full well thy weapon, Maurice, show? 
 A hero s blood within thee flows ; 
 But ah ! thy rival s arms prevail ! 
 Thou fallest, heir of Carodale! 
 
 The stream his lifeless form receives. 
 That bloody streaks behind it leaves 
 As gliding where the current leads 
 It from the victor s eyes recedes. - 
 
 But hark, what yells of fury rise ! 
 Not thunder, when it tears the skies, 
 And earth below in terror shrieks, 
 In voice of deeper horror speaks ; 
 Nor when through darkened heaven dashes 
 The lightning s tide, more dread its flashes 
 Than in that warrior s eyes are blazing 
 Upon his son s destroyer gazing, 
 While frantic shouts of rage ascend, 
 From all who on his path attend. 
 
 " And art thou fallen in the place 
 Accurst to all thy father s race ! 
 
(. 18 ) 
 
 .But fatal rocks those rocks shall be ? 
 By yonder heav n, to more than thee ! 
 Secure disarm him but forbear 
 To touch the life that I would spare, 
 Until the field be fought and won, 
 And then revenge is thine, my son !" 
 They rush they throng the youth around. 
 And from the field, disarm d and bound, 
 They drag him to their chieftain s camp. 
 To wait the moment that shall stamp 
 His destiny. Meantime the sword 
 Of Carodale destruction pour d ; 
 The frantic might that vengeance gave. 
 Had made the bravest doubly brave ; 
 And kindling at his madden d ire, 
 His warrior s rag d with kindred fire. 
 The living from their fury sweeping, 
 And .dying throngs before them heaping. 
 
 The field is won, the foe has fled, 
 And laurels clasp the victor s head ; 
 But ah ! they wreath a darken d brow, 
 That smil d in their embrace till now ! 
 But could he smile, bereft of one 
 Belov d as his heroic son ? 
 O think not that in glory s sound, 
 The voice of Nature can be drown d ! 
 Though glory no heroic soul 
 Could more than Carodale s control 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 How gladly would he throw away 
 The fame of that victorious day. 
 And fly from those who fled before him ; 
 Could infamy his son restore him ! 
 
 Tis night. and heaven s myriad eyes 
 Display where many a warrior lies. 
 Amid the throng his arm had spread 
 Around him, on a gory bed. 
 There some, upon their throbless breasts. 
 Pillow, perhaps, the fallen crests 
 Of those to whom their fury gave. 
 Before they found the same, a grave. 
 
 Alone the silence to dispel 
 The measured tramp of sentinel, 
 \nd the low murmur of his song, 
 Mix d with the breeze s voice along. 
 That scarce disturbed, as gliding by. 
 The victor s banner planted high. 
 
 Toward the field of battle glancing. 
 Antonio, startled, sees advancing 
 A warrior from the heap of slain, 
 As one were call d to life again, 
 Arm d in the terrors of the grave 
 His conqueror again to brave. 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 It was not quite devoid of fear 
 He saw that warrior striding near ; 
 But let him be of earth or not, 
 Antonio scorns to quit the spot. 
 Or call another s arms for aid. 
 Against a single hostile blade. 
 
 The stranger now was at his side ; 
 " Where is your chieftain ? Where ?" He cry d, 
 " Where is he ? Instant lead me there !" 
 What wouldst thou with him ?" 
 
 " Wilt thou dare 
 
 The way of Uthwold s chief impede ? 
 To Carodale this instant lead : 
 Ha ! Wilt not ? This brooks no delay, 
 Where now thou art forever stay !" 
 At once Antonio s helm is riven, 
 But ere a deadlier blow is given, 
 The clash of their contending arms, 
 The warriors around alarms. 
 " To arms ! to arms ! the foe is nigh !" 
 From tongue to tongue resounds the cry 
 Throughout the camp, and hurried all 
 Pour forth tumultuous at the call. 
 
 Awaken d from a trance of grief, 
 Sternly among them comes their chief; 
 Their clamours wild his presence hush d, 
 They saw his aspect calm, and blush d 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 That they themselves had fears confest, 
 Unworthy of the soldier s breast. 
 
 " Where is the foe you seek ?" He cry d- 
 * Turn and behold him at thy side ! 
 As thou didst love thy fallen son. 
 As thou dost prize thy laurels won, 
 Or future laurels wouldst procure, 
 Lord Carodale, I thee adjure 
 Alone to hear me, while I name 
 The danger that awaits thy fame." 
 What of my son ?" In accents wild 
 He cry d, 6 tell me of my child ! 
 He sought his tent with hasty stride, 
 The stranger leading at his side, 
 And then with tremulous voice exclamrd, 
 - O say why thou my son hast nam d P 
 i; Didst thou not love him ?" 
 
 ; Sure no sire, 
 
 Could of another that inquire ! 
 No infant innocence carest thee, 
 ?\or dawning valours laurels blest thee, 
 No father hast thou been, nor art. 
 Or thou wouldst know a father s heart." 
 A father s heart as well I know 
 As thou Behold thy deadly foe ! 
 Uthwold himself before thee stands 
 Alone amid thv hostile bands ; 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 A father s heart has hither led me. 
 
 Where there are none but hate or dread me." 
 
 His helm aside the chieftain laid, 
 And his dark lineaments displayed 
 To Carodale, who thus express d 
 The feelings rising in his breast. 
 " Uthwold ! it is with pitying grief 
 I meet thee thus, thou outlaw d chief ! 
 For now returns to memory s eye, 
 The years of happiness gone by, 
 When each could welcome in the other, 
 His dearest friend, his heart s best brother. 
 Though thou on the embattled field, 
 Thy parricidal arm didst wield 
 Against thy country, and hast riven 
 Away the heart to thine once given, 
 A brave and noble friend I ve known thee. 
 And brave and noble still I own thee ; 
 Rebel and traitor as thou art, 
 Still fondly turns to thee my heart, 
 And wouldst thou treason s cause resign, 
 That heart were altogether thine." 
 
 " Not Uthwold s were a traitor s brand 
 * THE SAVIOUR OF HIS NATIVE LAND ! 
 That name had blest him, had his might 
 Avail d to do his country right. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 But I will fly the patriot s fame, 
 And welcome a dishonours! name. 
 And bid mine injur d country groan 
 Beneath a vile usurper s throne, 
 Vnd bear the curse and scorn of all 
 Whose blessings now upon me fall ; 
 Yes, Uthwold s Chief will deign to be 
 A despot s slave, as vile as thee, 
 And e en in him, the wretch whose guilt, 
 His country s noblest blood has spilt, 
 \Yill own nay not a friend a lord 
 And master if he will accord 
 One boon a boon that to deny, 
 Would bid his ev ry laurel die." 
 
 i; Such language, daring and severe. 
 As yet has never met my ear ; 
 But this I well from thee can bear; 
 And whatsoe er the boon, I swear 
 To grant it if my power extend, 
 Tis granted to regain a friend, 
 And purchase for a nobler cause, 
 The sword he for Rebellion draws." 
 
 " Lord Carodale, hast thou not sworn. 
 The dawning of to-morrow s mom, 
 To yonder rocks shall see thee lead 
 A noble victim, there to bleed 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 For what ! For being brave ! O shame 
 Eternal light upon thy name 
 If thou canst do it !" 
 
 " Uthwold, what 
 Concerns thee in the rebel s lot ?" 
 " He is the heir of one whom thou 
 Hast call d thy bosom friend but now ; 
 And though our hearts were long estrang d, 
 Those hearts shall be again exchang d 5 
 Aye ! and thy tyrant shall command, 
 The service of my heart and hand, 
 If thou my Alvo canst forgive 
 His valiant arm, and bid him live." 
 
 " Forgive him ! never ! with what pride 
 I watch d my son s victorious stride, 
 And smil d to think, that when at last 
 His father s bright career were past. 
 Around his brow would fame entwine 
 A brighter wreath than beams on mine. 
 My hopes forever overthrown, 
 Shall not the blood of him atone 
 Who blasted them, and from my name 
 Has torn the pillar of its fame ?" 
 
 " Yet Aldimer is left to thee 
 To link it to eternity : 
 Say, hast thou not another son ? 
 Then spare O spare mine only one ! 
 
( 25 ) 
 
 Nay turn not thus away but see 
 
 E en haughty Uthwold bends his knee !" 
 
 " He kneels in vain The eyes of light 
 Shall open to a bloody sight, 
 A victim to my slaughtered son 
 The rocks of Carodale upon !" 
 
 " Be I the victim then ! O spare 
 My son, and let his father bear 
 Whatever thou wouldst inflict !" 
 
 " Away ! 
 : Tis dangers voice forbids delay." 
 
 " Danger! ha! saidst thou ? dost thou threat! 
 But Uthwold may not answer yet. 
 Though keen is the avenging steel, 
 O keener far the pangs I feel ! 
 And thou shall feel them too The doom 
 Is past upon thee, to thy tomb, 
 With anguish wild to recollect 
 The hour thou durst my boon reject ; 
 And ev ry drop of Alvo s blood, 
 Shall prove to thee a burning flood." 
 
 A fierce unearthly glance he cast 
 Al Carodale, and from him past, 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 While he in solitude resigned 
 
 To painful reverie his mind, 
 
 From which approaching footsteps near 
 
 Disturb d him, as they reach d his ear. 
 
 A soldier s voice admission claim d, 
 
 He enter d and his errand nam d : 
 
 " I come from Alvo that my lord 
 
 To-night would sec him, he implor d." 
 
 " And let him come As Uthwold knelt. 
 
 In vain this broken heart to melt, 
 
 Let Alvo too for mercy bend 
 
 In vain, for none shall I extend." 
 
 He comes but nor in look nor mien 
 Of fear can any trace be seen ; 
 His step is firm, and calm his brow ; 
 " Lord Carodale, 1 come not now 
 In tears to grovel at thy feet, 
 And mercy that I scorn entreat ; 
 No, Alvo comes not to disgrace 
 The spirit of his haughty race. 
 Lord Carodale, my doom I know 
 From mine, and from my country s foe. 
 But need not say I dread it not, 
 Unless my sire thou have forgot. 
 My sun of fame that dawn d so bright 
 By thee is set in timeless night : 
 
( 27 ) 
 
 By thee the flow rs of hope that bloom d 
 
 So fair, in blood must be entomb d ; 
 
 And dreader far, by thee I part 
 
 From all who priz d and shar d my heart! 
 
 Lord Carodale, by thee I die ; 
 
 But thou wilt not my boon deny, 
 
 To tell my lov d betrothed bride, 
 
 Her Alvo bless d her as he died." 
 
 " If deign the Lord of Carodale 
 To bear of love thy silly tale, 
 What castle holds thy lady fair ?" 
 * I know not I was never there." 
 " How met you then ? And where P 
 
 " One night 
 
 I pass d by yonder rocky height, 
 And witness d with a thrill of dread, 
 A maid descending from its head. 
 A veil from head to foot conceal d 
 Her form and figure but reveaPd 
 The dazzling splendor of her eyes, 
 Like stars that burst the shrouded skies. 
 She paus d one glance upon me threw, 
 Then like an airy spirit flew ; 
 My steps attended her s amid 
 A wood, when sudden darkness hid 
 All that around had met mine eyes, 
 And when again the spangled skies 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 Upon me in their beauty shown, 
 I found the apparition flown. 
 
 " I paus d, till came upon mine ear 
 The clash of arms, the shriek of fear ; 
 I hasten d where the scene display d 
 A ruffian band a captive maid ; 
 Of her attendants on the ground 
 Some bleeding lay, the rest were bound. 
 One moment on the scene I gaz d, 
 My sword was bar d my arm was rais dj- 
 Its fury on the ruffian fell, 
 Who fled away with terror s yell. 
 I granted her request to stay 
 And be the guardian of her way. 
 Ere long her heart and mine drew nearer, 
 And dearer each became and dearer ; 
 The passion that J soon betray d, 
 Was with approving smile repaid ; 
 But ere she gain cl her father s hall, 
 I left her at the battle call. 
 
 This portrait see this braid of hair 
 That in my bosom still I wear! 
 Lord Carodale why start st thou so I 
 If thou my Julia chance to know, 
 If my belov d thou ever see, 
 O charge her to remember me!" 
 
( 29 ) 
 
 " Aye that she shall, as one who gave 
 Her brother an untimely grave!" 
 Her brother!" 
 
 " Yes, in Maurice bled 
 Her brother, and upon thy head, 
 Her curses shall with mine be pour d, 
 To give thy love its due reward." 
 
 Those arms so wildly tost on high. 
 That throbbing brow that bursting eye, 
 Like lightning s wings thro darkness flashing 
 That laugh those teeth convulsive gnashing 
 That quiv ring lip the deep excess 
 Of madden d agony express. 
 
 They bore him raving from their chief, 
 Who sought in slumber s arms relief 
 From warring passions, that his breast 
 With their contentions wild opprest. 
 
 The sun s arising beams display 
 Of Carodale the throng d array ; 
 No banners proudly wav d unfurl d, 
 But round the standards drooping curl d ; 
 The drum the trump the clarion shrill, 
 That echo d oft from hill to hill, 
 c 2 
 
( 30 ) 
 
 Breathing upon the ardent fire 
 That wings the martial spirit higher. 
 In cadence soft and mournful, swell. 
 As now they breathe a hero s knell. 
 
 On yonder rock see Carodale, 
 Where, if we may believe the tale. 
 The fairy lady s curse was past 
 In former times, his race to blast. 
 
 Impatient longer to remain 
 He call d for Alvo, but in vain : 
 Not one of all his warriors nigh, 
 Who dar d to his demand reply, 
 Till, while abash d retir d the rest, 
 Antonio thus his chief addrest : 
 
 " Last night, at hour of midnight came, 
 A sudden tremor o er my frame ; 
 A whirlwind rock d the trembling ground. 
 And vivid meteors flam d around, 
 As if away the veil were riven, 
 That hides from earth the blaze of heaven- 
 Didst thou not mark it, Carodale ?" 
 " No, nor believe thine idle tale." 
 " To doubt it is to do me wrong, 
 For proof I turn thee to this throng, 
 Who shar d the tremor that I knew. 
 And witness d what I witness d too: 
 
( 31 ) 
 
 But if thou other proof \vouldst find, 
 Seek Alvo s guards, now stricken blind : 
 Whose eyes in an unearthly night 
 Some power has seal d. to aid the flight 
 Of him. to-day by thee decreed 
 Upon the fatal rocks to bleed. 
 Of whom no trace can now be found, 
 Though well we all have look d around." 
 
 While thus he hears his victim s flight. 
 What but some talisman of might 
 Subdues him thus, that he proceeds 
 As calmly as he nothing heeds ! 
 Nor word nor gesture rage betray ; 
 As from the rocks he turns away. 
 
 The towers of Carodale are nigh 
 To greet their lord s returning eye. 
 Oh once how swift he wing-d his steed 
 How laggard seems its lightning speed. 
 Returning his belov d to meet, 
 And shower his laurels at her feet ! 
 But now that he had left behind 
 Their son belov d to death resign d. 
 With a reluctant step and slow 
 He comes the messenger of woe ! 
 
( 32 ) 
 
 With rapture sparkling in her eyes 
 She runs, to his embrace she flies, 
 " My love ! my Carodale !" are all 
 The words that joy permits to fall, 
 But in her eyes, all words above, 
 He reads the eloquence of love. 
 
 At last from his embrace unbound, 
 She sends her eager glance around, 
 " And Maurice ? Why does he delay 
 A mother s fond embraces ? Nay 
 My love, why dost thou darken so ?" 
 He struggles to reply but no 
 The words to silence back were flung, 
 Upon his lips that quiv ring hung. 
 He turn d to dash away the tears 
 Unknown till then from infant years ; 
 She hastened, to her throbbing breast 
 Her Carodale she fondly prest, 
 And mix d her tears with his, although 
 She knew not what had bid them flow. 
 
 What angel she, who to the bower 
 Approaches in that mournful hour ? 
 Tis Julia ; to her sire she springs, 
 But round him as her arms she flings, 
 Their weeping eyes her parents raise, 
 She starts as anguish meets her gaze, 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 And sinking, asks on bended knee 
 To share their grief, whate er it be. 
 
 " Maurice is slain ! Nay why that start- 
 That shriek as it would rend thy heart ? 
 I tell thee girl, that thou wilt bless 
 The cause of all our wretchedness." 
 
 " Bless him ! May heaven s curses rain 
 On him who has my brother slain I" 
 " And yet he bade me Julia tell, 
 Her Alvo blest her when he fell!" 
 
 Alternate to his wife and child, 
 He. turn d his gaze with laughter wild, 
 As he were blest to find them share 
 The horrors doom d himself to bear. 
 " Fiend of the Rocks ! 1 find at last 
 Thy curse indeed upon us past ; 
 But why so kind as spare me one 
 Who yet may bless me as my son ? 
 Take Aldimer, that we may boast 
 Of all we are unblest the most !" 
 
 While thus he madly speaks, his eye 
 Is turn d upon a packet nigh ; 
 He raises, reads the fatal scroll, 
 What agonies convulse his soul ! 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 " Now feel the pangs by Uthwold felt 
 For Alvo when in vain he knelt! 
 No son to me thy vengeance left, 
 And mine has thee of all bereft, 
 For from the rock where Alvo bled 
 Of Aldimer shall roll the head !" 
 
 His hand upon his sword was laid, 
 Another moment and the blade 
 His bleeding spirit would have freed ; 
 But see, as if the frantic deed 
 Of madden d anguish to oppose, 
 The dead before his eyes arose, 
 Young Aldimer from Uthwold springs, 
 And laughing to his father clings, 
 And to Corinna Maurice flies 
 Again to bless a mother s eyes, 
 And Alvo s lips again repeat 
 The words of love at Julia s feet, 
 " My Julia ! my belov d one ! see 
 Thy Alvo lives, and lives for thee !" 
 
 Uthwold alone who calmly eyes 
 Their bursts of rapture and surprise, 
 On Alvo calls " To these explain 
 How thou and Maurice met again." 
 
 Around him all attentive clung, 
 And on his accents breathless hung. 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 " Condemn d to die, in fetters bound 
 I lay, while stalk d the guard around, 
 When suddenly I felt a shock 
 That made the earth beneath me rock. 
 A form unearthly met my sight ; 
 Though dazzled by its shroud of light 
 I recognis d the fairy maid 
 Who led me once to Julia s aid. 
 She took my hand, but where she led 
 I cannot tell, for darkness spread 
 Around me, till my ravish d eyes 
 Beheld her fairy paradise ; 
 All that of earth is bright and fair 
 Was lovelier and brighter there. 
 
 As vanished mine unearthly guide 
 A warrior approach d my side, 
 Twas Maurice, in affection s grasp, 
 His hand was stretclr d mine own to clasp, 
 But ere one greeting word we spoke 
 The voice of song the silence broke. 
 
 AIR. 
 
 Tis the night the faiiy maid 
 Weds again her faithless lord ; 
 
 Love, on earth but ill repaid, 
 Heie receives its just reward. 
 
( 36 ) 
 
 Art them ask d where fickle gales 
 Quench or kindle passion s flame. 
 
 Where the pain of love prevails 
 O er its bliss, thou earth canst name, 
 
 Canst thou tell where love is true ? 
 
 Where no pain alloys its bliss ? 
 Know, if yet thou never knew, 
 
 In no world but heav n and this. 
 
 As on our ear those accents came, 
 From form to form a wreathing flame 
 Was varied, and at last displayed 
 The temple of the fairy maid. 
 The gates of light were open d wide, 
 Disclosing at the fairy s side 
 A warrior arm d, whose mien and face, 
 Declared of Carodale the race. 
 
 He for a moment on us glanc d, 
 Then beckon d, and we both advanced. 
 
 " Behold me, Carodale, from whom 
 Our race received its fatal doom ! 
 That doom is now removVl by me. 
 And never more pronounced shall be 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 Unless, but O ! of that beware ! 
 Of Carodale some future heir 
 Should break a heart that lov d him well,- 
 His guerdon would be terrible ! 
 
 I caught thee sinking in the wave, 
 That mortals now believe thy grave ; 
 The spark of life was wav ring still, 
 1 dipt thee in the sacred rill, 
 Whose inspiration lends to me 
 The bloom of immortality. 
 
 Return to earth, if there thou find 
 A heart to love and thee resign d, 
 Requite it well, as thou wouldst shun, 
 The curse I brought thy race upon." 
 
 He ceas d, and vanish d with his bride,- 
 The temple in a blazing tide 
 Descending, like a river spread, 
 When, to enwrap the flaming bed. 
 Around ten thousand thousand flowers 
 Were scatter d in ambrosial showers. 
 
 To music s lulling sway resign d, 
 In slumber we were soon reclin d, 
 And when awake we look d around, 
 No scenes but those of earth we found. 
 
( 38 ) 
 
 Alone we in a bark were riding 
 
 That, o er the stream as swiftly gliding, 
 
 Scarce left upon its placid face 
 
 A dimple s momentary trace ; 
 
 And as we sprung upon the shore 
 
 It sunk, perhaps to rise no more. 
 
 Towards the rocks we rais d our eye, 
 And thought some object mov d on high; 
 As clamb ring up the rocks we flew, 
 My father s voice I heard and knew. 
 
 " No child, in vain revenge demands. 
 Thy guiltless blood at Uthwold s hands. 
 Live, cherub live, again to bless 
 A father with thy dear caress ! 
 Yes, he again shall clasp a son 
 Who none has left to me Oh none !" 
 
 " Yes, I am left to thee !" I cried, 
 O need I tell what pass d beside ? 
 
 " As to the mountain s foot we came 
 Flash d on the rocks a vivid flame, 
 And, shooting through the torrent s flood. 
 It swept away each streak of blood. 
 Some soldiers near attract mine eyes, 
 IH whom the guards I recognise 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 Who watch d me in my captive hour ; 
 They tell that an unearthly power 
 Had led them where this sudden light 
 Again restor d them to their sight, 
 Which from the hour had been denied. 
 I left them with my fairy guide. 
 
 " Can Carodale again embrace 
 The heirs of his illustrious race, 
 And yet deny what T demand, 
 His friendship, and his daughter s hand ?" 
 
 " By Alvo both shall be possest, 
 And with them may he long be blest. 
 Stern Uthwold, why should darkness now : 
 Still wrap her mantle o er thy brow ? 
 Would I a moment might command 
 The fairy lady s magic wand, 
 If that to kindness might subdue 
 The heart whose friendship once I knew !" 
 
 Who suddenly among them stands 
 Surprise and awe that thus commands ? 
 All bend but one their king to hail 
 ;; Rise, valiant lord of Carodale, 
 1 trust that now thy sword may rest, 
 So long my kingdom s prop confest. 
 Denied myself a lineal heir 
 His father s diadem to wear. 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 As my adopted heir I own 
 The son of him who brav d my throne. 
 But now before me deigns to bend, 
 A subject, and a faithful friend." 
 
 Their glad acclaims applausive ring, 
 ;; Long live long live our noble king!" 
 And even Uthwold with the rest 
 On bended knee his king confest. 
 
 " My bravest, noblest foe, arise, 
 Tis said that once to friendship s ties 
 Thy heart and Carod ale s were given, 
 Say are those ties forever riven ? 
 Say if you will be never more 
 The friends that you have been before ?" 
 
 His arms extended Uthwold threw, 
 And Carodale to clasp him flew, 
 While Alvo and his Julia smil d 
 To see their fathers reconcil d. 
 
 END OF THE LEGEND OF THE ROCKS. 
 
< 41 ) 
 
 A FATHER S NAME ; 
 
 A MONODY, 
 
 A FATHER S NAME ! From infant silence first, 
 Imperfect, when our childish accents burst, 
 As to the parent knee we fondly clung, 
 Around him while our little arms were flung, 
 As we reclin d our heads upon his breast, 
 While to his manly brow our lips were prest, 
 The earliest accent from those lips that came 
 Was breath d to bless him with a FATHER S NAME, 
 
 A FATHER S NAME ! Ah ! you who can bestow 
 That name, not all its value can you know, 
 Nor with what agony the heart is riven 
 Of him by whom it can no more be given ; 
 Too blest yourselves to tell the orphan s fate, 
 His bosom s void, his feelings desolate, 
 To find that none remains from him to claim 
 What he were blest to give, A FATHER S NAME ! 
 
 A FATHER S NAME ! and must we to the tomb 
 Consign it with him ? Is there none in whom 
 
( 42 ) 
 
 We still may claim a father and a friend ? 
 Thou Father of the fatherless ! we bend 
 To Thee, Oh God ! Ours is the orphan s right, 
 Which Thou wilt answer, tho the world may slight 
 Though all beside be deaden d to the claim, 
 Our God will not reject a FATHER S NAME. 
 
 A FATHER S NAME, Oh ! may we offer Thee I 
 May thine a father s care toward us be ! 
 Our father lov d us Oh! that we may find 
 In Thine a father s love remains behind ; 
 A love whose smile shall brighten our career 
 On earth, and waft our spirits to the sphere 
 Where we through immortality may claim 
 In his, and in our God s, a FATHER S NAME, 
 
43 
 
 THE ORPHAN S DREAM 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO THE AUTHOR S 
 ADOPTED FATHER. 
 
 And dreams in their developement have breath, 
 And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy. 
 
 BYROX 
 
 HE died, would he had been allow d 
 
 To bless his orphan ere he died ! 
 Would that, while I had weeping bow d 
 
 An only parent s bed beside, 
 His hand upon my bending head 
 
 "W ith touch endearing might have prest, 
 While he these words departing said, 
 
 " My child! may thou in God be blest!" 
 A father s dying blessing might, 
 
 Perhaps, have found avail on high, 
 And from my mind had chas d the night 
 
 In which I now am doom d to sigh. 
 But sudden was his spirit s wing, 
 
 As too impatient for the skies, 
 
( 44 ) 
 
 One short farewell to earth to fling, 
 Before it should to God arise. 
 
 I lov d him needs it to be told ? 
 
 If mine had been a heart of steel, 
 It none the less had been control d 
 
 By what the veriest wretch must feel. 
 I lov d him, and he lov d me well. 
 
 I weep as I remember this, 
 Yet in those tears I cannot tell 
 
 If there be more of grief or bliss. 
 
 As o er the corpse belov d I hung 
 
 I gaz d and gaz d ; twas sad but sweet 
 It seenv d the seraphs, whom among, 
 
 His spirit went its God to meet, 
 Returning with him home to heaven 
 
 Had left some charm of heav n behind. 
 Which to the earthly form was given, 
 
 That once his spirit had enshrin d. 
 I gaz d and gaz d I could not weep, 
 
 I could not think that it was death ; 
 It seem d so like a placid sleep, 
 
 I watch d for his returning breath. 
 I gaz d and gaz d, corruption came, 
 
 And all his beauty from him swept ; 
 Then death too well avow d his claim. 
 
 And then indeed I wept I wept!- 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 And yet I turn d not from him, no, 
 
 I gaz d and gaz d, my tears fell fast ; 
 And well it might have bid them flow 
 
 To think that then I look d my last! 
 I gaz d and gaz d my tears were o er, 
 
 I know not why I felt so calm, 
 Unless some angel bow d to pour 
 
 Upon my bleeding spirit balm. 
 
 They came to take away the bier ; 
 
 They pray d, 1 know not what they said. 
 But with my heart I pray d sincere : 
 
 They paus d, and then I turn d my head 
 Behind, I saw them from the place 
 
 The coffin of my father taking, 
 I ruslrd away, I hid my face, 
 
 I wept as if my heart were breaking. 
 
 When last beside a bier I trod, 
 
 My father s hand in mine was clasp d, 
 But as we bore him to the sod 
 
 Whose hand was that the orphan s grasp d ? 
 My brothers all were in the grave, 
 
 None of my kindred were more near 
 Than he who to my sister gave 
 
 His name : beside my father s bier 
 He led me. Thoughts within me rose 
 
 That now I am asham d to tell, 
 
( 46 ) 
 
 Fve conquer d them, but heaven knows 
 
 I had to struggle with them well. 
 I wish d my father s bier mine own ; 
 
 My lot was ever so unblest, 
 From all the ills that here are known 
 
 I wish d within his grave to rest. 
 I e en for death a prayer could breathe, 
 
 Sweet heav n, forgive the impious prayer! 
 Submissive now I bend beneath 
 
 Whatever I am dooirfd to bear: 
 Hereafter let me be resigned 
 
 However 1 may be opprest, 
 I sure in other worlds shall find 
 
 That God has will cl it for the best. 
 
 We paus d when we were near the spot 
 Where many of my kindred slumber, 
 
 And then 1 thought how soon my lot 
 Should add me to the lifeless number. 
 
 I turn d, the sight I could not brook, 
 
 When on his bier they dropt the clod ; 
 1 turn d again, to give a look 
 
 When rose above the heaving sod. 
 And as I stood in musing deep, 
 
 The thoughts were mine I may not tell ; 
 But they were such I scarce could weep 
 
 For him whom I had lov d so well. 
 
< 47 ) 
 
 They call d me from my father s grave, 
 
 I left it tearless and serene : 
 But first a backward glance I gave 
 
 For memory s eye to sketch the scene. 
 
 I came where late my father s bier 
 
 Had in our joyless dwelling stood ; 
 I struggled with the bursting tear, 
 
 And check d the torrent while I could ; 
 In vain I check d it as it gush d, 
 
 It but awhile restrained was kept, 
 Then forth at once resistless rush d, 
 
 And like a very babe I wept. 
 
 I could a something every day 
 
 Connected with his memory find. 
 What he was wont to do or say 
 
 To send again athwart my mind : 
 And when upon it turn d mine eye, 
 
 My hands my throbbing brow would press, 
 And I with heav n-ward glance would cry, 
 
 " My father! I am fatherless!" 
 
 Ye who like me have dearly learn d 
 The orphan s feelings, well ye know 
 
 His desolate bleeding heart is turn d 
 To all, to stranger, or to foe, 
 
 As he would say, " Am I not now 
 
( 48 ) 
 
 An orphan, friendless, fatherless ! 
 Then tell me, tell me, wilt not thou 
 
 With yet a father s kindness bless 1" 
 Though every one may be beside 
 
 Unconscious of the mute appeal, 
 By God it will not be denied, 
 
 For He the orphan s heart will heal. 
 
 Twas night Our friends had left us all ; 
 
 We were alone, the orphan d three ; 
 I thought if it should so befal 
 
 I might my father s spirit see, 
 It would not be a sight to fear, 
 
 For this is what full well I knew, 
 He ever held his child so dear 
 
 For harm he would not seek my view. 
 As thus I thought, I turn d mine eyes 
 
 Where late his own had on me smil d : 
 As if I thought to see him rise 
 
 Again to smile upon his child. 
 
 Upon my pillow lay my head, 
 
 It was to me a lonely place ; 
 A father once had shar d my bed, 
 
 Reclining in his child s embrace ; 
 "But where thy bed of slumber now, 
 
 My father ! Death embraces thee ! 
 My God, may I not hope that Thou 
 
 Wilt now the orphan s father be ? 
 
No other father now is mine, 
 
 Then leave me not quite fatherless ; 
 But lend a father s name in Thine, 
 
 The dearest that my lips can bless !" 
 There came no answer to my prayer, 
 
 My mind to evil thoughts was left ; 
 I felt me in my dark despair 
 
 Of God, as of my sire, bereft! 
 Religion ! thy resplendent wing 
 
 Has chas d away the clouds between, 
 And now I hail my God, my King, 
 
 My Father, with a heart serene. 
 
 I pray d, my prayer was deep and wild;- 
 
 I closM mine eyes, and then I thought 
 The father s image to his child 
 
 Perhaps in slumber might be brought. 
 I clos d mine eyes, I slept, for even 
 
 A grief like mine must to the power 
 Of sleep, as that of death be given- 1 - 
 
 I slept, and in my slumbering hour 
 A scene was sketched by fancy s wand, 
 
 A scene I never can forget, 
 While memory can aught command 
 
 Of what my past career has met. 
 
 I saw my father in his shroud, 
 He lay extended on a bed ; 
 
( 50 ) 
 
 I look d to heav n, I wept aloud, 
 
 I bent to kiss the icy dead ! 
 My rising glance around extends, 
 
 In vain mine eyes around me swim ; 
 It seem d my sisters, kinsmen, friends, 
 
 Had left me all alone with him ; 
 Had left me all alone forever 
 
 Beside my father s corpse to kneel ! 
 I felt so desolate O never 
 
 What then I felt may others feel! 
 
 thou (whose name, tho 5 breath d not here, 
 Is written on the grateful heart 
 
 From which thy lov d remembrance ne er 
 
 In good or evil shall depart,) 
 What sudden joy illum d mine eyes, 
 
 And from my heart what horrors fled, 
 As with a cry of wild surprise 
 
 I saw thee, when I turn d my head ! 
 
 1 saw thee enter in, and why 
 
 I knew not, smiles were on thy face ; 
 The cause was less to smile than sigh 
 At such a time in such a place. 
 
 My heart almost to bursting beat, 
 I rush d, I seiz d thee by the hand, 
 
 I threw me weeping at thy feet, 
 I scarce could utterance command, 
 
( 51 ) 
 
 " Nay, I am not an orphan quite. 
 
 I claim in thee a father still ! 
 I yield to thee a father s right, 
 
 A fathers part thou wilt fulfil !" 
 Thy lips my hand impassioned prest : 
 
 Thine arms to raise me open flew 
 1 sprung, and with a sobbing breast 
 
 My head upon thy bosom threw. 
 I heard (for sleep unseals mine ear !) 
 
 As prest thy lips my throbbing brow, 
 The words I was most blest to hear, 
 
 " Poor boy! I am thy father now!" 
 
 I pointed to my father s bed, 
 
 I saw thee grasp his icy hand ; 
 I started. at thy touch the dead 
 
 Arose before our eyes to stand ! 
 He spoke, " No longer weep for me. 
 
 My son. as one of life bereft ; 
 They say that I am dead. but see, 
 
 Thy father yet to thee is left!" 
 
 And then thou saidst, " For this I smil d. 
 When in this gloomy hall I came : 
 
 I knew the father for his child 
 Existence would again reclaim : 
 
 1 knew to him thy filial sighs 
 Would be reanimating breath, 
 
( 52 ) 
 
 And ev ry tear that left thine eyes, 
 Would melt the talisman of death!" 
 
 1 could not speak while standing near 
 
 The dead who thus a life could borrow, 
 And yet I was not hush d by fear, 
 
 My thoughts alone were thoughts of sorrow ! 
 He seem d to have return d, with all 
 
 The pangs, that in his life s decline 
 Nigh tempted me, on death to call 
 
 To free him from his painful shrine. 
 
 Ere he had died I gave not way 
 
 To thoughts that now I dar d attend, 
 
 But now I could not help but pray, 
 That death again his pains would end. 
 
 His hand he on my shoulder laid ; 
 
 I felt it far more heavily 
 Than when in life, his steps to aid, 
 
 He lean d his tott ring limbs on me. 
 I sunk as crush d beneath the weight, 
 
 And as I sunk my slumbers broke ; 
 I look d around all desolate, 
 
 Alone, in darkness, I awoke. 
 I look d as if the scene to view, 
 
 That I had witness d in my sleep ; 
 And as around my glance I threw 
 
 On darkness, I began to weep : 
 
( 53 > 
 
 Yet why I wept I cannot say. 
 
 I wept not for his vanished track ; 
 Not for creation s wide array 
 
 One moment would I call him back, 
 And bring his spirit from the sphere 
 
 Where now it is in bliss enthron d, 
 Again to writhe in anguish here, 
 
 Where it so long imprisoned groan d. 
 
 And what was pleasing in my dream 
 
 To find untrue I did not fear, 
 For thee I thought I might esteem 
 
 As if thou wert my father dear : 
 I thought perhaps it might be so 
 
 Thy heart would as a father s love me ; 
 And none a fathers love who know, 
 
 I then should think were blest above me. 
 I ve offer d thee a father s name, 
 
 A name that thou hast not rejected ; 
 And 1 were happy in the claim, 
 
 Were I by all beside neglected. 
 
 I deem not in my dream was aught 
 
 That from unearthly cause might spring, 
 
 The tenor of the waking thought 
 Directed slumb ring fancy s wing ; 
 
 Yet could that dream such thoughts inspire, 
 As if alone from heav n it came. 
 E 2 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 To soothe my anguish for my sire, 
 
 And guide me to transfer the name.* 
 It checked me for the ingrate tear, 
 
 When it the dread event display d, 
 Could weeping call him from the bier 
 
 Where 1 had wept to see him laid ; 
 It told me who deserv d the best 
 
 The name I once to him had given ; 
 Thus thinking, I at times confest 
 
 The thought that it had come from heaven* 
 
 My mind too on the words would dwell, 
 
 That bade me weep for him no more, 
 As one whom life had bid farewell, 
 
 And then I bade my tears be o er. 
 My father lives in worlds of bliss, 
 
 He bends from heav n to bless his son? 
 And, ingrate! shall a tear for this 
 
 Be shed again ? Not one! not one! 
 
 My sister has a lovely child, 
 
 A little, prattling, cherub boy ; 
 He came, and laugh d his dark eyes wild, 
 
 And dimpled his fair cheek with joy ; 
 Where is my grand-papa ? he said ; 
 
 He sought him in the chamber, where 
 Had stood my father s dying bed, 
 
 And wonder d not to find him there. 
 
They told him he was far away, 
 
 His home was in a happy place, 
 And there we all some future day 
 
 Should go to see my father s face. 
 " Yes, we shall go?" Exclaim d the boy, 
 
 " To see him in his home up high!" 
 He smiPd, it was a thought of joy 
 
 To him, and tell me, sisters, why 
 We smile not as that cherub smil d. 
 
 And in that blissful thought forget^ 
 As well as did that artless child, 
 
 The transient parting to regret ? 
 
 thou adopted by my heart, 
 
 And it would seem, by heav n, to be 
 My father ! such indeed thou art 
 
 By all a father s love to me ; 
 By all the kindness thou hast shown 
 
 To one to whom but few are kind. 
 By this thou art my father known, 
 
 Nor nature s ties could stronger bind. 
 Though much unkindness I have borne 
 
 From others since my father died ; 
 From looks of anger or of scorn, 
 
 Though tearful oft I turn aside ; 
 Though many a day to come, perchance, 
 
 Mine eyes must shrink from eyes unkind, 
 
 1 reck not for it, in thy glance 
 
 While I a father s love can find ! 
 
( 56 ) 
 
 My heart was glad when dawn d the year 
 
 Whose rapid wing has now departed, 
 I thought not for a moment, ere 
 
 Its close, I should be broken hearted ! 
 I thought not that before the day 
 
 Returned, I was so glad to see, 
 None would be left to whom to say 
 
 " My father!" Save my God and Thee! 
 My God and Thee! Shall I repine, 
 
 Who can in each a father hail! 
 While God and Thou as yet are mine 
 
 Shall sorrow more than joy prevail ? 
 No, Let me hail this dawning year 
 
 As gladly as I hail d the last; 
 Perhaps it brings in its career 
 
 A brighter fortune than the past ; 
 But if destruction ride its wing 
 
 And strip me as it flies, of all 
 That brightness on my lot can fling, 
 
 Nor leave one blessing mine to call, 
 So be it, then, I will not be 
 
 Impatient of the heav nly will, 
 W 7 hile yet allow d in God and Thee 
 
 To hail a friend and father still! 
 
 Thou Father of the Fatherless! 
 
 O may this year upon its wing ; 
 As I would bless thee, thee to bless, 
 
 Whatever best can glad thee bring : 
 
( 57 ) 
 
 Nor this alone, may ev ry year 
 
 Its choicest blessings on thee shower. 
 Till to a better, brighter sphere 
 
 To waft thee shall arrive the hour ; 
 Then at the portals of the skies, 
 
 O may my spirit thine embrace, 
 And lead thee where my father s eyes 
 
 Behold his blest Redeemer s face ; 
 There may our spirits dwell with him 
 And all beside we value here, 
 Among the radiant cherubim 
 
 To celebrate the endless year. 
 
 JANUARY IST, 1827. 
 
( 58 ) 
 
 THE MINSTREL BOY. 
 
 THE very thoughts which were passing in the mind of the 
 author, at the time of writing the " Minstrel Boy," are undis- 
 guisedly exprest in that Poem ; and more freely, perhaps, than 
 they would have been, had he expected that the effusions of 
 his pen would be exposed to the public eye ; which he could 
 not imagine, at a time that there was not even one well informed 
 person, to whom his poetical pretensions were known. How 
 ever, he submits it as it is to the public, as none of his friends 
 have advised the suppression of any part ; but not without 
 some apprehension that come passages may be construed as 
 expressive of impatience under the dispensations of heaven, 
 as at the time of wi-iting it, he was peculiarly unhappy, and 
 too deficient in submission to. and confidence in, his Creator, 
 
 1. 
 
 AND am I doom d to be denied forever, 
 The blessings that to all around are given ? 
 
 And shall those links be reunited never 
 
 That bound me to mankind, till they were riven 
 
 In childhood s day ? Alas, how soon to sever 
 From social intercourse, the doom of heaven 
 
 Was past upon me ! and the hope how vain, 
 
 That the decree may be recaPd again! 
 
( 59 ) 
 
 2. 
 Amid a throng in deep attention bound, 
 
 To catch the accents that from others fall, 
 The flow of eloquence the heav nly sound 
 
 BreathM from the soul of melody, while all 
 Instructed or delighted list around, 
 
 Vacant unconsciousness must me enthral ! 
 I can but watch each animated face, 
 And there attempt th inspiring theme to trace. 
 
 3. 
 Unheard, unheeded are the lips by me, 
 
 To others that unfold some heav n-born art;- 
 And melody Oh dearest melody ! 
 
 How had thine accents, thrilling to my heart, 
 Awaken d all its strings to sympathy, 
 
 Bidding the spirit at thy magic start ! 
 How had my heart responsive to the strain, 
 Throb d in love s wild delight, or soothing pain ! 
 
 4. 
 In vain alas, in vain ! thy numbers roll 
 
 Within my heart no echo they inspire ; 
 Though form d by nature in thy sweet control 
 
 To melt with tenderness, or glow with fire, 
 -Misfortune clos cl the portals of the soul, 
 
 And till an Orpheus rise to sweep the lyre 
 That can to animation kindle stone, 
 To me thy thrilling power must be unknown. 
 
( 60 ) 
 
 5. 
 Yet not that every portal of the mind 
 
 Is clos d against me, I my lot deplore ; 
 Although debar d by destiny unkind 
 
 From one that never shall be open d more, 
 Still from my lot at times relief I find, 
 
 When science, I thy temple stand before, 
 Whose portal thou hast open d, to my sight ; 
 The gems displaying there enshrin d in light. 
 
 6. 
 Blest Science! but for thee what were I now ? 
 
 Denied the rights of man, as to employ 
 Those rights incapable mankind, if thou 
 
 Hadst not aris n the barrier to destroy, 
 No human blessings w r ould to me allow ; 
 
 The sensual pleasures which the brutes enjoy 
 Alone were mine, than brutes a nobler name 
 Entitled only by my form to claim ! 
 
 7. 
 Friends of misfortune s race, whose heart and hand 
 
 Are never clos d against affliction s prayer, 
 To heathens can your charity expand ! 
 
 Will you to them the gospel tidings bear ? 
 And yet neglect your own, your native land ? 
 
 O shall the gospel be a stranger there ? 
 Behold the Deaf and Dumb! W^hat heathens need 
 More eloquently for your aid can plead ? 
 
8. 
 Strangers to God ! And shall they still be so ? 
 
 Will you not lift a hand the veil to rend 
 Their intellectual eyes to heaven throw, 
 
 And lead them to a father and a friend 1 
 Will you not snatch them from the gulfs of woe, 
 
 To which they else unrescued must descend ? 
 O save them ! save them ! that the Deaf and Dumb 
 May bless 3-011 in this world, and in the world to 
 come! 
 
 9. 
 Spirit of philanthropy ! thou hast smil d 
 
 Where the attempt already has been made, 
 To cultivate the mind s deserted wild ; 
 
 Though eloquence were pow rless to persuade. 
 Xone can compare the unenlighten d child 
 
 With those who have already known thine aid. 
 But in a difference so wide must feel 
 A deep, an irresistible appeal. 
 
 10. 
 
 Tone can behold how eagerly they cling 
 
 Around the new creator of their mind, 
 Who, the Prometheus of the anxious ring, 
 
 The hallow d flame in learning s fane enshrin d 
 Kindles within them, yet refuse to bring 
 
 Wliere they with these may equal blessings find, 
 
( 62 ) 
 
 The numbers who unaided still demand 
 Those blessings from a benefactor s hand. 
 
 11. 
 Neglect you will not suffer to efface 
 
 The work that your benevolence began ; 
 Nor bid them grovel still in thraldom base, 
 
 Who claim from you the faculties of man ; 
 You will not if you love the human race, 
 
 You will not, cannot, for no Christian can, 
 In whom the God of Christians has imprest 
 This truth, in blessing we indeed are blest ! 
 
 12. 
 Would that of eloquence I own\l the might, 
 
 To paint the feelings in my breast enshrin d, 
 For those enwrapt in the Cimmerian night 
 
 Whose darkness had encanopied my mind. 
 If Science on me had not stream d her light, 
 And rais d me to a level with mankind ! 
 When I my happier lot with their s compare. 
 Can 1 to feel or plead for them forbear ? 
 
 13. 
 Of life to cheer my desolated scene, 
 
 The rays of friendship beam but for a while ; 
 " Like angel visits few and far between," 
 
 Are those my dreary moments that beguile ; 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 And oft, alas, misfortunes intervene. 
 
 To tear me from a friend s endearing smile ; 
 But e en in solitude the cultur d mind 
 
 Society within itself can find. 
 
 14. 
 The works of genius lying at my side, 
 
 I claim in Qach an ever welcome friend, 
 From whose society, whatever betide, 
 
 Misfortunes have no power my mind to rend : 
 On whom, w 7 hen human intercourse denied, 
 
 I may for rational delight depend ; 
 And till these eyes are clos d in endless night. 
 1 cannot be bereft of that delight. 
 
 15. 
 Shall I of utter loneliness repine, 
 
 "While I with a delighted eye can see 
 The spirit of genius, breathing in the line 
 
 That kindles with its wild sublimity, 
 While beauty dazzles in the lay divine, 
 
 And pathos melts the soul to sympathy. 
 And fancy wafts my thoughts upon her pinions. 
 Roving the fairy land of her dominions ? 
 
 16. 
 
 To me, when beauty s fingers lightly tread 
 The quiv ring strings, no rapture they impart j 
 
( 64 ) 
 
 Yet, melody, though to thine accents dead, 
 Whose witchery had else subdu d my heart. 
 
 From infancy my spirit has been led 
 In blissful thraldom by thy sister art ; 
 
 Sweet poetry! still shall it own thy sway, 
 
 Till on the wings of death it soars away. 
 
 17. 
 Ye sacred nymphs, that in Elysium steep 
 
 The spirit form d by nature for your sway ; 
 Who when their strings your favoured vot riee 
 sweep, 
 
 The inspiration breathe into the lay 
 That fires the dead, and bids the marble weep. 
 
 Deign to illuminate me with a ray 
 That, though it beam on a neglected lyre, 
 May only with the life it cheers expire. 
 
 18. 
 Perhaps unhonour d I must live and die, 
 
 And when the Minstrel Boy is swept away, 
 His harp within his grave unreck d shall lie, 
 
 And with his name become oblivion s prey ; 
 Well, be it so I care not if no eye 
 
 But thim, shall ever dwell upon my lay, 
 Should thine embalm these pages with a tear 
 For him, who had but thee to value here. 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 19. 
 O but for thee, the hour that I was born 
 
 I oft had curs d, to agony consign d, 
 When from my brow the wreath of health was torn^ 
 
 And pain a thorny coronet ent\vin d ; 
 \\ hen writh d my spirit proud beneath the scorn 
 
 Unmerited, of the ignobler mind ; 
 Or when the demon Hope some bliss pourtray d. 
 In laughing mockery to see it fade. 
 
 20. 
 We pity but should rather envy those 
 
 Who from the influence of Hope are screen d, 
 \\ ho bear not added to their other woes, 
 
 The bitter mockings of that beauteous fiend. 
 My heart no more her fatal magic knows, 
 
 But from her merciless control is wean d ; 
 It clung to Hope it found but torment there. 
 And now its friend, its idol is despair. 
 
 21. 
 Despair is no deceiver ev ry ill 
 
 It throws before anticipation s view, 
 The hour of destiny I find fulfil : 
 
 While all that might have blest in being true. 
 Has prov d a falsehood, and a mock ry still : 
 
 Then henceforth what have I with Hope to do. 
 
( 66 ) 
 
 But curse each past, and fly each future spell. 
 That only dawns in heav n to set in hell ? 
 
 22. 
 And let me then despair despair of all 
 
 Fame, fortune, independence, might bestow, 
 Or from the angel smile of love might fall ; 
 
 My doom is fix d to be a child of woe! 
 A doom that heaven never shall recal, 
 
 Till I am rescued from this world below ; 
 And then does Hope again deceive in this ? 
 I even 1 may know a ray of bliss. 
 
 23. 
 Yet Hope deluding demon as thou art, 
 
 And as I know thee, to defy thy power 
 Is impotence ; still fondly turns my heart 
 
 To thy bright image of some future hour, 
 When stern misfortune from me shall depart, 
 
 Nor dark obscurity around me lower, 
 And glory s wreath shall dance around a brow,. 
 Encircled but with sorrow s cypress now. 
 
 24. 
 Not one to love of glory can be dead, 
 
 Not one but bends in worship to its blazes 
 Yet in their guilty path I would not tread 
 
 For whom, a bright memorial to raise, 
 
( 67 ) 
 
 The flower of nations have devoted bled ; 
 
 No let me share alone the bloodless praise 
 By Avon s bard, and lofty Milton won, 
 And Byron, of this age the late departed sun. 
 
 25. 
 Yet though I may not be allow d to claim 
 
 Of immortality with these a share ; 
 Although I may not win the breath of fame 
 
 To scatter, on the pinions of the air, 
 Around the world, the splendor of my name, 
 
 And to posterity its echoes bear, 
 Her vot ry from the muse more pleasures draws? 
 Than those that rest upon a world s applause. 
 
 26. 
 Society in solitude to win ; 
 
 When desolate amid a throng to stand ; 
 From nothing to create a world within, 
 
 And then, to populate the faiiy land, 
 To call up beings that have never been, 
 
 Nor shall be, by imagination s wand ; 
 In these the guerdon of the bard were found, 
 When far beyond the reach of glory s sound. 
 
 27. 
 
 And none are more exquisitely aw r ake 
 To nature s loveliness, than those who feel 
 
 
( 68 ) 
 
 The inspiration of the muse ; who take 
 
 From her the glowing thoughts that as they 
 steal 
 
 Around the soul entranc d, a goddess make 
 Of nature, to whose shrine of beauty kneel 
 
 The fond enthusiasts, adoring all 
 
 Within her we may dread or lovely call. 
 
 28. 
 The terrible in nature is to them 
 
 The beautiful, and they can with delight 
 Behold the tempest, and its wrath contemn, 
 
 Station d upon some rock whose quiv ring height 
 Is by the spirit swept, whose diadem 
 
 In burning terror wreaths the brow of night ; 
 While the rude winds their cave of slumbers rend. 
 And to the loud-voic d thunders answer send. 
 
 29. 
 Yet Nature, not alone when stern and wild, 
 
 Canst thou the homage of the bard awaken ; 
 Still art thou worshiped by the muse s child 
 
 When thou thy throne of terrors hast forsaken: 
 With darkness when thy brow is undefil d, 
 
 When scarce a leaflet of thy robe is shaken 
 By zephyrs, that soft music murmuring, 
 Around thee wave their aromatic wing. 
 
( 69 ) 
 
 30. 
 When first the queen of night in beauty rides 
 
 That with the glory of Apollo vies, 
 One star alone through heaven s azure glides, 
 
 That when ten thousand thousand robe the skies, 
 Pre-eminent in beauty still presides ; 
 
 To her the lovers and the poet s eyes 
 Are ever fondly turn d, to hail the power 
 That smiles such loveliness upon the hour. 
 
 31. 
 How often have I watch d the star of even, 
 
 When eyes of heaven s own ethereal blue 
 Have follow d mine, to gaze upon the heaven 
 
 Where they, as on a mirror s face, might view 
 The bright and beautiful reflection given 
 
 Of their own starry light and azure hue! 
 But she beholding night s resplendent throne, 
 Of nature s beauty thought, and not her own. 
 
 32. 
 I thought of both if earth appear so fair, 
 
 How glorious the world beyond the skies! 
 And if the forms that heav n-born spirits wear, 
 
 Their earthly shrines, so fascinate our eyes 
 To kneel in worship we can scarce forbear, 
 
 And e en to gaze on them is paradise, 
 O what are those, who free from earthly stain, 
 Above yon azure realms in bloom immortal reign! 
 
( 70 ) 
 
 33. 
 Earth! thou art trac d in beauty by the hand 
 
 Of Him who call d thee from the deep profound 
 Of Chaos, while angelic pinions fan d 
 
 The new creation, hovering around 
 The wondrous work of Him, whose high command. 
 
 Where slumber d apathy and darkness frown d, 
 Stream d light and life, and all the charms that 
 
 grace 
 With heaven s imagery creation s face. 
 
 34. 
 Earth! thou art lovely loveliest in this 
 
 By woman angel woman ! thou art trod ; 
 Woman, the centre of our ev ry bliss ; 
 
 To man the dearest boon receiv d from God .; 
 Whom, if creation were condemn d to miss, 
 
 Chaos again his desolating rod 
 O er the dominion he has lost, would sway, 
 And earth, with all her charms, become his prey. 
 
 35. 
 Earth ! thou art fair and glorious, but all 
 
 Thy beauty and thy glory are a shade, 
 That low beneath the hand of time must fall : 
 
 And Woman ! must thou too in dust be laid ? 
 Ah no ! the beauteous fetters that enthral 
 
 Thy spirit, only are decreed to fade ; 
 
That spirit, on a seraph s glowing wing. 
 From earth shall to its native heaven spring. 
 
 36. 
 Thine earthly shrine is but thy prison still 
 
 Such loveliness is flung around thee here, 
 That as it beams before mine eyes, they fill 
 
 At times, unbidden, with the tremulous tear. 
 And through my bosom shoots a painful thrill 
 
 To think that aught so beautiful so dear 
 Should to the hand of death resign its bloom, 
 A trophy to emvreath around the tomb ! 
 
 37. 
 Must all then know corruption ? even thou* 
 
 My angel girl my dear my blue-ey d maid! 
 Shall those bright eyes that smile upon me now. 
 
 Resign the beams that oft have on me play d 
 So tenderly ] Shall reptiles kiss thy brow. 
 
 Enwreath d among the tresses, that to shade 
 Thy beauteous lineaments around them dance. 
 Veiling the loveliness which they enhance ! 
 
 O blinded Infidel ! \vhoe*er thou art 
 
 If thou canst be an Infidel indeed, 
 Love s flame must be extinguished from thy heart, 
 
 Or love itself would turn thee from thy creed 
 
( 72 ) 
 
 To thy belov d would eloquence impart 
 
 Against a fate so horrible to plead 
 As thou wouldst pass on them, and all mankind- 
 Annihilation in the grave to find ! 
 
 39. 
 The soft confession trembling on the tongue 
 
 Of beauty, when replying to thy flame 
 The cherub infant, that around thee clung, 
 
 With innocent fondness, lisps a father s name- 
 The friend whose heart in unison is strung 
 
 With thine, resigning to affection s claim 
 Each secret of his bosom are they thine ? 
 The joys that are not never shall be mine! 
 
 40. 
 What rapture in my heart is ever glowing, 
 
 When one I meet who to that heart is dear, 
 A smile of tenderness upon me throwing, 
 
 Although his voice shall never reach mine ear! 
 But thou the music of affection, flowing 
 
 From lips belov d, who art allow d to hear, 
 Since more than me affection thee doth bless, 
 Shall thy devotion to her sway be less ? 
 
 41. 
 
 Around me when those darling children cling, 
 Belov d as they were mine when on my knee 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 They prattle, and my heart unconscious wring 
 With the fond accents, that if heard by me, 
 
 As they believe ! My tears resistless spring 
 To think how blest I were, if that might be 
 
 Which never shall be! While by them carest 
 
 With all a father s love they animate my breast. 
 
 42. 
 And sure no father with an infant pair 
 
 So lovely so belov d could cast his eye 
 Upon th angelic beauty which they wear, 
 
 Yet say that they were born alone to die 
 O no ! around them there is thrown an air 
 
 Breathing of heav n and immortality, 
 In accents, that to marble hearts appealing, 
 Would melt them with the eloquence of feeling. 
 
 43. 
 It were a deed of mercy in the sire 
 
 His babe to strangle, when it first appears 
 In being, to preserve it from the ire 
 
 Of stern misfortune, through this vale of tears 
 Who follows all, if in the grave expire 
 
 The spirit s consciousness for nothing cheers 
 The darkness of our lot, when Hope denies 
 Her radiant star the beacon of the skies ! 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 44. 
 To live is to be wretched and to die 
 
 To part with all we love and O! forever! 
 Our only hope our dust may mingling lie 
 "Where death itself shall want the power to 
 
 sever ; 
 
 But shall their smiles again address our eye, 
 To kindle rapture there 1 O! never, never! 
 Is this thy faith ? Art thou so blest in this, 
 That thou canst mock the Christian s dream of 
 bliss ? 
 
 45. 
 "Were it indeed a dream, that dream possesses 
 
 What all beside were pow rless to bestow, 
 For with the voice of heav n-born hope it blesses. 
 
 When we are torn from all we love below 
 The wife the child the friend whose dear 
 caresses 
 
 We never in this world again shall know 
 Nor in another if from truth proceed 
 The Atheist s, and not the Christian s creed* 
 
 46. 
 rSay, Atheist, hast thou ever gaz d upon 
 
 The loveliness of death, when on the biei 
 Reclin d th inanimate pale form of one 
 
 Who living lov d thee. and to thee was dear ? 
 
( 75 ) 
 
 O! sure while such a scene beholding, none 
 
 Could say, " All that remains of thee is here; 
 And ail that to thy form its value gave, 
 Must with it be extinguished in the grave!" 
 
 47. 
 O ! if thy faith were mine, and if the doom 
 
 Were past upon me (Never may it be!) 
 The lovely the angelic girl, to whom 
 
 This heart is giv n, bereft of life to see, 
 \\ hat should forbid me then upon her tomb 
 
 To end my being and my misery ? 
 The deed Religion s voice forbids alone, 
 By those unreck cl who dare her truth disown. 
 
 48. 
 Thy voice, Religion ! thine alone, controls 
 
 The frantic rage of anguish, w r hen the car 
 Of death o er bleeding hearts triumphant rolls ; 
 
 Our eyes by thee directed, on the star 
 Of Hope are fix d, whose influence consoles 
 
 The mourner, with a glimpse of worlds afar. 
 Where he \tith all he loves shall be united 
 In bliss that cannot be alloy d or blighted. 
 
 49. 
 
 My blue-ey d maid ! when bending at the shrine 
 Qf heav n, thy name is wafted in my prayer; 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 The dearest hope avow d to heav n is thine. 
 That we may meet with one another there ; 
 
 And if on earth to ever call thee mine 
 Be rapture that to know I must despair, 
 
 1 in the blissful hope can be resigned 
 
 That we shall in eternity be join d* 
 
 50. 
 My blue-ey d maid! when bends thy pious knee 
 
 Wilt thou not think of him, whose prayers arise 
 That heaven s blessings may be shower d on thee. 
 
 To make thine earthly home a paradise, 
 Till death shall come, from earth to set thee free, 
 
 And open throw the portals of the skies ? 
 Wilt thou return my prayers, and on my head 
 Invoke the blessings I on thine would shed ? 
 
 - vl - ** - " " * 
 
 51. 
 The loveliness of earth we most adore 
 
 Something of heav n when there is in it shown ; 
 And beauty never claims our homage more 
 
 Than when to heav n she offers up her own; 
 For then she seems to want but wings to soar 
 
 With the angelic choir around the throne 
 Of God, to whom their homage is addrest, 
 As hers on earth, amid their mansions blest. 
 
( rt > 
 
 52. 
 Thy voice angelical with mine to blend, 
 
 In unison adoring heaven s King ; 
 Together at the throne of God to bend. 
 
 While angels are around us hovering, 
 The fervent pra} T ers that from our hearts ascend 
 
 To waft above the sky upon their wing, 
 If aught might be in terrestrial bliss, 
 To be compar d with heav nly, it were this. 
 
 53. 
 And Hope would say it shall not be denied 
 
 To me ; that thou shalt own a kindred flame; 
 That in my blue-ey d maid an angel bride 
 
 The time may come at last for me to claim ; 
 That we shall kneel at one another s side, 
 
 Our words unutter d, but our thoughts the same. 
 Ascending on each others head to call 
 The choicest blessings that from heav n can fall. 
 
 54. 
 O! dream of bliss! like every other dream 
 
 Of bliss that I have cherished, if it fade ; 
 Should fortune never throw so bright a beam 
 
 Upon a lot so long en wrapt in shade ; 
 If thou canst but return me thine esteem 
 
 For all my love to thee, my blue-ey d maid! 
 
 G2 
 
If one prefer d above me shall command 
 What I may seek in vain thy heart and hand : 
 
 
 
 55. 
 
 Whoever he may be who thus shall blight 
 The dearest hopes that can inspire my breast, 
 
 On him nor thee may aught of evil light, 
 But may you be in one another blest 
 
 As I would have been with thee, if I might 
 Have won the angel bride by him possest, 
 
 And heard from thy dear lips the music breathe 
 
 Of love, entwining there his blissful wreath. 
 
 56. 
 " Hove thee!"- All the charms of music blend 
 
 In those endearing words, when from the tongue 
 Of blushing beauty, gently they descend 
 
 To raise the lover, who before her flung 
 Avows his flame, while trembling o offend, 
 
 Till by those words assur d he had not clung 
 To hope in vain ; who but, if he had power, 
 Would to eternity prolong that hour ? 
 
 57. 
 "Hove thee!" Worlds on worlds if they were 
 
 mine, 
 
 To buy those accents should away be thrown ; 
 All other melody 1 could resign, 
 Might 1 but hear those tender words alone 
 
( 79 ) 
 
 Warbling upon those rosy lips of thine, 
 
 My blue-ey d maid, where music might enthrone 
 Her sweetest magic oft repinings rise 
 To think that even this my lot denies. 
 
 58. 
 Yet why repine against the will of heaven. 
 
 By erring man so little understood ? 
 Misfortunes may be found in mercy given 
 
 To w r ork together for our final good ; 
 And all the blessings that from me are riven 
 
 Evils might have accompanied, that would 
 Upon my lot far heavier have weigh d 
 Than those upon me that shall now be laid. 
 
 59. 
 Thy will, my God ! Thy will be done, not mine. 
 
 For all by Thee is order d for the best ; 
 Myself, mine all. I to Thy hands resign ; 
 
 I ask but that my lov d ones may be blest 
 Here and hereafter, and with me may join 
 
 In an eternity of joy and rest, 
 With cherubim and seraphim to bend 
 Before our God our Father and our Friend. 
 
 60. 
 
 The fetters of the ear shall be unbound, 
 And silence shall no more the lips enthral. 
 
( 80 ) 
 
 When the Archangel s awful trump shall souncl^ 
 Death from its sleep awakening when all 
 
 Shall at its summons burst the trembling ground, 
 With myriad voice replying to his call, 
 
 In shouts of ecstasy, or shrieks of fear, 
 
 Before the bar of heaven to appear. 
 
 61. 
 And then, my blue-ey d maid, may we unite 
 
 With all we love below, to hymn the praise 
 Of our Redeemer O with what delight 
 
 Shall I inhale the music of thy lays, 
 Warbling with those of cherubim, while bright 
 
 Eternal glories clothe us in the blaze 
 That emanates from Mercy s smiling eye, 
 Hov ring the throne of the Almighty nigh! 
 
 :- 62. 
 
 If this may be although we now were torn 
 Asunder, never more on earth to meet 
 
 Or if on earth thy pity, or thy scorn, 
 
 Alone in recompense my love shall greet, 
 
 Ev n this may in the blissful hope be borne 
 (O ! be it not as false as it is sweet !) 
 
 That we shall meet in worlds where none again 
 
 Shall part, where all shall love, and none shall 
 love in vain. 
 
( 81 ) 
 
 63. 
 Thus far the lay, that once her dear blue eyes 
 
 I fondly thought would dwell upon ; but now 
 Their beauteous light on earth to idolize 
 
 Again, my destiny will not allow: 
 Their smiles perhaps shall greet me in the skies, 
 
 Till then in silence let my feelings bow : 
 The thoughts that now are mine, thou canst not 
 
 tell, 
 
 My Harp ! then breathe no more, but bid her name 
 farewell ! 
 
( 82 ) 
 THE 
 
 GALLANT HIGHLAND ROVER. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 A CLOUDY veil the orb conceals 
 Above invisible that steals, 
 While here and there some dim-ey d star 
 Twinkles amid its darken d car : 
 From yonder balcony on high 
 An anxious maid, her eager eye 
 Arpid the ^looin surrounJ 1 ; _. t 1 -ows, 
 For him on whom her hopes repose, 
 While thus to her belcv d she fiings, 
 Her summons, on the breeze s wings. 
 
 AIR. 
 Shall beauty weep, and valour sleep ; 
 
 Nor to defend arise ? 
 Who would not fly to do or die, 
 
 If beauty were the prize ? 
 O! come, my love! O! come, my love! 
 
 Or ev ry hope is over, 
 And I shall be no bride for thee, 
 
 My Gallant Highland Rover ! 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 A father s voice the stern command 
 Without her heart to yield her hand, 
 Upon his wretched child had past ; 
 
 To-morrow and the die is cast! 
 
 But no she trusts another hour 
 
 Shall free her from oppression s power : 
 
 Nor vain her hope, for to her lay, 
 
 Ere its last echo died away, 
 
 Below, the balcony beside, 
 
 The voice of her belov d replied, 
 
 AIR. 
 I come, my love ! I come, my love ! 
 
 Let ev ry fear be over ; 
 For thou shall be a bride for me, 
 
 Thy Gallant Highland Rover. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 But hark! a sudden shout alarms! 
 " Revenge! Revenge! to arms! to arms!" 
 The castle gates were open flung, 
 And forth a band of warriors sprung, 
 And quiver d many a torch s light 
 On many a naked weapon bright. 
 While frantic shouts of fury rise 
 The Rover fronts his rival s eyes. 
 Who foremost springs, and at his side 
 The father of the destin d bride. 
 
( 84 ) 
 
 At once the Rover s bugle sound 
 A thousand echoes wakes around ; 
 A moment more, and sword in hand 
 Appear his Gallant Rover band, 
 While steals upon their chieftain s ear, 
 The voice that best he loves to hear 
 
 AIR. 
 The foe shall cower beneath the power 
 
 Confest our bosom s lord ; 
 For from thy heart it shall impart 
 
 Its lightnings to thy sword ; 
 And far and wide, though havoc ride 
 
 Around thee love shall hover, 
 To shield from harm of hostile arm, 
 
 My Gallant Highland Rover. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 Fearful and doubtful prov d the strife 
 To guard to crush, the Rover s life 5 
 The torches scatter d on the ground 
 Gleam d faintly on the scene around, 
 But each who mingled in the fight 
 Around him threw terrific light, 
 That in the eye of fury play d, 
 And flash d from each contending blade. 
 Where er the Rover s weapon gleam d 
 Of hostile blood a torrent stream d ; 
 
But could he act a craven s part 
 While she, the lady of his heart, 
 Thus from her balcony addrest 
 The ruling passions of his breast 
 
 AIR. 
 
 Now let the foe the ardour know 
 
 The eye of beauty fires ; 
 And may its rage, more terrors wage 
 
 Than fell revenge inspires : 
 If thou canst love, thine arm will prove 
 
 Thou art indeed a lover. 
 For beauty s glance is on thy lance. 
 
 My Gallant Highland Rover. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 Oft as the rivals met and clos d 
 As oft their followers interpos d, 
 Till from the rest they turn d aside 
 Where none the combat might divide ; 
 Not long their strife the Rover s blade 
 In dust his rival grov ling laid ; 
 And from his lady s lips at first 
 A shout of joy and triumph burst 
 But foes her lover thronging near 
 Transform it to a shriek of fear : 
 Before his band to aid him rushes 
 His blood on many a weapon blushes, 
 
( 86 ) 
 
 He falls before his lady s eyes, 
 Faulters her name belov d and dies. 
 
 AIR. 
 I come, my love! I come, my love! 
 
 I come with thee to share 
 A bridal bed among the dead, 
 
 For none shall part us there ! 
 I come, my love ! I come, my love ! 
 
 Where fate s control is over, 
 A bride to be, for death and thee. 
 
 My Gallant Highland Rover. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 Quiver d each lip with horror s cry, 
 And turn d away each shudd ring eye, 
 As died the accents on her tongue 
 And from the balcony she sprung ; 
 One groan is heard, and all is over, 
 She lies beside her Highland Rover. 
 
( 87 ) 
 
 THE GRAVE OF MARY. 
 
 THE flame that by disdain was check d 
 
 Rekindled with her dying breath 5 
 The iiower she wither d by neglect 
 
 Reviv d beneath the hand of death : 
 But no that flame had never died, 
 
 Unquenchable although represt ; 
 That flower, though to myself denied, 
 
 Unseen was cherish d in my breast. 
 
 While thus her ashes 1 adore, 
 
 Not now her votary she spurns : ^ 
 The flame of love, represt no more 
 
 By cold disdain, more ardent burns ; 
 The flower of love shall never fade; 
 
 The bleeding heart shall never vary. 
 That now a sacrifice is laid 
 
 Upon the Grave of lovely Mary. 
 
 Ere yet I bow d at Mary s feet, 
 And dar d the words of passioa breathe. 
 
 Indulging hope s delusion sweet, 
 I twin d a visionary wreath ; 
 
 But when my passion was exprest, 
 And no return but scorn could find, 
 
( 88 ) 
 
 Though hope was banish d from my breast, 
 Love lingering remain d behind. 
 
 And art thou hurl d from beauty s throne 
 
 Where thou couldst ev ry heart enslave ? 
 That seat was worthy thee alone, 
 
 And now thy shrine is in the Grave ! 
 This heart, devoted to the dead, 
 
 The fairest shall not tempt to vary, 
 For brighter charms than their s have fled. 
 
 To wither in the Grave of Mary. 
 
 Beneath the tyranny of woe, 
 
 My lot is darkly overcast ; 
 In all my wanderings below 
 
 Through pain and peril I have past ; 
 But every ill I could have borne 
 
 By destiny upon me laid, 
 Jfthou hadst not away been torn, 
 
 In dark corruption s arms to fade ! 
 
 All else I could endure but this! 
 
 O! this is more than 1 can bear! 
 And yet there beams a ray of bliss 
 
 Amid the darkness of despair; 
 Though ev ry other hope has flown, 
 
 So blissful once and ah ! so airy ! 
 One yet remains and one alone 
 
 To die upon the Grave of Mary! 
 
 
( 89 ) 
 WRITTEN OX SEEING 
 
 THE GRAVE OF MARY. 
 
 FAR, far from this Grave be the footstep unholy, 
 
 Its sanctity that would presume to invade ! 
 By all who approach it may, worshipping lowly. 
 
 A tribute to virtue and beauty be paid ; 
 To virtue and beauty that almost had made her 
 On earth, what they now have quite made her 
 
 in heaven : 
 For the seraphic charms, in this world that array d 
 
 her, 
 To wither as soon as they bloom d were not 
 
 given ; 
 Ah no! they were only transplanted again 
 
 To bloom in the glorious world whence they 
 
 came ; 
 
 Where nothing of earth or corruption shall stain 
 Their splendors on high that eternally flame. 
 
 My Mary ! my love ! art thou hovering near 
 To look upon him o er thy dust who is kneeling 
 
 While wrung from my bosom, full many a tear 
 To water the Grave of my Mary is stealing? 
 
 H2 
 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 While o er thee in passionate agony bending,, 
 
 I fondly would think, from the regions above 
 Thy spirit I see in its beauty descending, 
 
 To calm my wild anguish for Mary my love ; 
 To turn to yon heaven the eyes that are steeping, 
 
 Those relics of thee upon earth that remain, 
 To yonder fair heaven, where parting nor weeping 
 
 Shall ever be known to the lover again. 
 
 THE BLUE-EY D MAID 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 FORGET me not, my blue-ey d maid, 
 
 When fate our parting shall decree : 
 My love can never be repaid, 
 
 But still O still, remember me ! 
 Though when I to thy mind appear, 
 
 Thou wilt not in me view pourtray d 
 The image to thy bosom dear, 
 
 Forget me not, my blue-ey d maid ! 
 
 If on the monumental stone 
 The name of one thou chance to see 
 
( 91 ) 
 
 Whose heart was thine and thine alone 
 O! then, my love, remember me! 
 
 Thine image, in my heart enshrin d, 
 In death s embrace alone shall fade : 
 
 When I am in his arms reclin d 
 Forget me not. my blue-ey d maid! 
 
 When 1 have met the fate, to brave 
 
 Which now I would not shrink for thee. 
 If thou shalt tread upon my grave, 
 
 My darling girl ! remember me 
 As one that were supremely blest 
 
 His life before thee to have laid, 
 Could that have won his last request. 
 
 Forget me not, my blue ey d maid ! 
 
 MONODY ON 
 
 EXPERIENCE F. NACK. 
 
 OBITT. MARCH 16-TH, 1826. 
 
 SWEET sufferer! art thou not now 
 Enthron d among the cherubim, 
 
 AVhere beams on thine angelic brow 
 The saint s triumphant diadem ? 
 
 
( 92 ) 
 
 Then why O ! why should we bewail 
 That thou art blest, and blest forever; 
 
 That rude misfortune s stormy gale 
 Again shall blow upon thee never-? 
 
 If tears could call thee back again 
 
 To life and misery, not one 
 Bereav d affection bids us rain, 
 
 Should fall from me thy bier upon ; 
 For oft, as I beheld thee languish, 
 
 I scarce refrain d to God to bend, 
 That He thy being, and thine anguish.. 
 
 In mercy would that moment end. 
 
 Can we her lot on earth compare 
 
 With her eternal bliss on high, 
 And yet, repining ingrates ! dare 
 
 Indulge one murm ring tear or sigh ? 
 Say, should we not far rather bend 
 
 To Him to whom she has ascended, 
 And thank her kind her heav nly friend, 
 
 That He her misery has ended ? 
 
 I saw her not and heav n was kind 
 That it denied me to be near, 
 
 When she her dying breath resign d, 
 For O ! to witness one so dear 
 
 In death s last agonies depart, 
 Forever from me to be riven. 
 
( 93 ) 
 
 Had been a scene to break the heart. 
 The brain to madness to have driven! 
 
 Remember thee ! O! that we will ! 
 
 Thy dear remembrance shall not fade ; 
 AVe never can forget thee, till 
 
 We lie as low as thou art laid : 
 The hour we never can forget, 
 
 That last those dear, dear arms carest us. 
 That last our lips so fondly met. 
 
 As with her dying breath she blest us. 
 
 O! may we not her charge forget 
 
 To seek her in a world of bliss, 
 There to ensure a home, while yet 
 
 Our habitation is in this : 
 That when the hour of death is nigh, 
 
 The hope ecstatic we may cherish 
 That we shall meet with her on high. 
 
 In raptures that can never perish. 
 
94 
 
 THE FAIR MANIAC 
 
 GAZING upon the silent flow 
 Of the waters, that calmly smile below, 
 A lonely one stands upon yonder rock 
 That often hath borne the billows shock, 
 When their snowy crests have many a time 
 Appear d as they to heaven would climb ; 
 But now how placidly they spread ! 
 
 While the moon-beams, sporting fitfully. 
 Upon their azure bosom are shed 
 
 In splendor creating an imagery 
 Of the deep silver d blue on high ; 
 Then in the clouds they shun the eye. 
 And darkness flings around the night 
 Her mantle, till again their light 
 
 Trembling descends upon the blue water. 
 Reposing now in slumber sweet ; 
 As smiles the aspect of deceit 
 
 While pants the heart for slaughter, 
 Thus oft hath smil d the ocean s face 
 A welcome to the bark s embrace, 
 Till yawn d the horrors of the deep 1 . 
 To bury in eternal sleep 
 
 The victims of its smile ! 
 
But do they there forever rest I 
 
 Can they not leave their dwellings there. 
 
 To tread the fields of earth or air ? 
 Such thoughts were in that strangers breast. 
 
 For there are times, awhile 
 To Superstition s sway inclin d 
 Will prove the firmest, manliest mind. 
 
 So silent all the scene around, 
 That if a breeze had whisper d near 
 Its accents must have caught the ear, 
 
 When hark ! a sweet unearthly sound ! 
 
 Is it a spirit that meets his sight 
 
 Upon the brink of the perilous height ? 
 For who of human-kind would dare 
 To hover so near destruction there ? 
 
 One farther step toward the brink, 
 
 And in the billows it will sink, 
 Unless it be a thing of air ! 
 
 Oh! never sure from an earthly tongue 
 Such heavenly melody could flow ! 
 
 He might have thought that an angel sung. 
 But for the mingling strains of woe. 
 
 That told the. warbler s heart was wrung 
 With pangs that seraphs cannot know. 
 
AIR. 
 
 The silver moon-beams now are streaming 
 
 Upon the bosom of the sea ; 
 But Love, a star within me beaming, 
 
 Through darkness would have led to thee. 
 
 Within the arms of Ocean lying, 
 With my belov d I soon shall be ; 
 
 And oh! what ecstasy in dying 
 
 When death will lead to heav n to thee ! 
 
 Ethellin rush d in time to save 
 The stranger from a watery grave; 
 Upon her hand his hand he laid, 
 
 But shuddering relax d his hold ; 
 
 He found that hand so icy cold, 
 He scarcely could deem her an earthly maid, 
 
 But a being of more ethereal mould* 
 
 A snowy veil around her flung 
 About her features loosely hung, 
 But from its bondage here and there 
 Escap d a tress of raven hair, 
 And flash d beneath that veil a light 
 That rival d with the gems of night. 
 
( 97 ) 
 
 i; Stranger," she said, " Wilt thou deny 
 The only boon I ask to die ! 
 If thou wilt not reject my prayer, 
 Nor doom me longer life to bear, 
 To thee be all the blessings given 
 That from me are forever riven ! 
 Nay speak not, for it were in vain ; 
 Forbid me not to rend the chain 
 That fetters me to earth from heaven ! 
 Behold those waves, beneath them lies 
 Mine all, my love. my paradise ! 
 
 And dost thou pity me ? that tear 
 Compels me yet awhile to stay, 
 That I to my belov d may say 
 
 That one at least could pity me. 
 If any to thy heart are dear, 
 
 May they be never torn from thee, 
 Since thou canst for another mourn, 
 Prom whom her best belov d is torn !" 
 
 Ethellin starts as she flings aside 
 
 The veil that conceal d her face; 
 Oh what can from the lover hide 
 
 His lov d one 1 Even the disguise 
 Of suffering cannot deceive the eyes 
 That in her pallid features trace 
 
( 98 ) 
 
 The maiden, whp in former days 
 Was haiPd the fairest of the fair, 
 
 When pride and grandeur throng d to gaze 
 Upon the low-born Wilfred s heir. 
 
 The humblest of the humble crowd 
 That worship d her, Ethellin bow d ; 
 Among her votaries as yet 
 Amanda s eye he never met ; 
 He shun d that eye, lest it should read 
 
 In the flash of his own how well he lov d \ 
 Nor even with a glance would he plead 
 
 A flame that might not be appro v d. 
 
 How could he hope the smiles to gain 
 Tli at she denied to all the rest ? 
 If he his daring love exprest 
 
 What could he hope except disdain ! 
 
 To gaze at distance and adore, 
 In this alone supremely blest, 
 
 He durst not ask nor seek for more. 
 
 But even this w 7 as soon denied, 
 
 For Edwy claim d her as his bride ; 
 
 And such a claim none could expect 
 
 The proudest beauty might reject. 
 
 Of noble lineage he came 
 
 And well approv d his father s name,. 
 
( 99 ) 
 
 For often on the field of war 
 His weapon, to the hilt in gore, 
 Inscribed it on the roll of Fame. 
 
 In him was every charm combin d 
 That best enchants a maiden s mind, 
 His high descent, his valiant arm, 
 
 His form, which elegance and grace 
 Array d ; the tongue whose honied charm 
 
 Would clothe in light an Ethiop face ; 
 But his a face w T here loveliness 
 Her manliest features would express. 
 
 She own d his merits, and admir d, 
 And lov d, or thought she lov d ; 
 
 While he with ecstasy was fir d 
 To find his flame approv d. 
 
 Approaches now the bridal day, 
 
 While Edwy chides its slow delay, 
 
 Ethellin s tears no less deplore, 
 The rapid flight of every hour, 
 That leads her to the bridal bower ; 
 
 And bids him love no more. 
 
 i{ Yes, I will fly, but first before her 
 
 For pardon bending low, 
 Will I confess I dar d adore her ; 
 
 Yet should she deign to throw 
 
Compassion s glance, how could I fly! 
 But say can pity beam in her eye 
 For one like me ? Ah no! Ah no!" 
 
 He turns, his brother beside him stands, 
 
 And places a packet in his hands, 
 
 While the cloud on his brow, and the tear on 
 
 his cheek, 
 A tale of sorrow appear to speak. 
 
 e < And has misfortune then the power 
 More sorrows on my head to shower ? 
 Whatever be thy cause of grief, 
 Seek not Ethellin for relief; 
 His woes are all in this united, 
 That Hope, the Flower of Love, is blighted, 
 That he must be condemn d to sever, 
 From his belov d, and oh! forever!" 
 
 " Our sister!"- 
 
 " Heavens! What dost thou say ? 
 Has that bright angel fled away, 
 And sunk in death s embrace to rest ? 
 Nay, weep not, brother, she is blest! 
 They rather claim compassion s tear 
 Whom she has left to suffer here ; 
 Yet while 1 bid thee not to mourn 
 My sorrow triumphs, as in scorn, 
 
And tears will rush into mine eyes 
 To mock my fortitude s disguise." 
 
 " Speak not of her 1" His brother cried, 
 " It had been better had she died." 
 
 " Oh! tell me that the dread is vain 
 That thrills with horror through my brain I" 
 ;; My lips could never tell the tale, 
 But what they to repeat would fail 
 That packet will explain." 
 
 Ethellin reads the fatal scroll, 
 And fury kindles in the soul 
 
 Late sway d by love and gentleness ? 
 Lightnings flash terribly from his eyes, 
 As with impassion d voice he cries, 
 " Perdition on her! but she dies! 
 
 Tis virtue to be merciless ! 
 
 And yet she may, yes, it must be! 
 I wrong d her angel purity. 
 Come let us seek the world around; 
 By heaven she shall again be found 
 As holy as when I saw her last, 
 For none such purity could blast. 
 Jf while around her hallow d head 
 Of virtue beams the diadem, 
 
 i 2 
 
( 102 ) 
 
 The evil spirit, struck with dread 
 
 That what his wretched slaves contemn? 
 From her would such resplendence shed 
 
 It even would be sought by them, 
 Should send a fiend to snatch her crown^ 
 And hurl the throne of virtue down, 
 Angels would rush, on wings of flame, 
 To guard their sister angel s name." 
 
 Hurriedly they turn away, 
 
 Love itself cannot delay ; 
 
 And scarce, for his sister, Ethellin s mind 
 
 Has one thought for her he has left behind?- 
 
 The shades of even began to descend 
 As the rider of tempests, whose terrors were 
 
 nigh, 
 
 With banners of flame had encircled the sky ; 
 And now for a shelter the wanderers bend, 
 As his gonfalon bright they see unfurl d, 
 In sign of the war he threats to the world. 
 
 As they are approaching a cottage near 
 A plaintive melody floats to their ear. 
 
 AIR. 
 
 Would I had seen thee and lov d thee never! 
 To lovq thee once was to love thee ever; 
 
( 103 ) 
 
 And though thy heart is betray d to view 
 I cannot abhor its guilty hue. 
 
 To perdition 1 had not been driven 
 Had it not worn the image of heaven, 
 But who could look on a form so fair, 
 And think that evil might harbour there ? 
 
 The warbler ceas d as she heard their tread. 
 
 And welcoming the sound, 
 And art thou come at last ?" She said ; 
 
 But when she turns around 
 Where petrified Ethellin stands, 
 With a fearful shriek she clasps her hands> 
 
 And sinks upon the ground ; 
 
 By all our love to one another 
 Forgive me oh ! forgive me, brother 1 ?> 
 
 " Lost! lost forever! Is it so ? 
 Will none in pity answer no ? 
 Recal thy words, thy crime deny, 
 And I will bless thee for the lie, 
 Believing still thy purity 
 Unblemish d as it ought to be." 
 
( 104 ) 
 
 She starts she springs upon her feet, 
 And pride and indignation meet 
 In the keen flashes of her eyes, 
 As to Ethellin she replies ; 
 
 " Hast thou forgot that I inherit 
 Much as his blood my father s spirit ? 
 Were 1 unworthy thine embrace, 
 If I had on thee thrown disgrace 
 In the pollution of my name, 
 Say, could my life survive my fame ? 
 My honour lives, for see, I live ! 
 Yet I would ask thee to forgive 
 That I without my sire s consent 
 Was wedded, as I well repent. 
 Our rites were secret, and when past, 
 I with my husband fled : at last 
 One night, he bade me wait him here, 
 And went, to come no more, I fear ; 
 For while I sorrow day by day, 
 Lord Edwy lingers still away." 
 
 " Lord Edwy!" shuddering, he cried, 
 " And shall Amanda be his bride ? 
 She welcomes even now the fate 
 That he has bid on thee await! 
 For thy protection stays my brother, 
 But I must fly to save another." 
 
( 105 ) 
 
 But as he turird away, she fell 
 Before his feet, insensible ; 
 He stop d, his sister gently rais d. 
 And tenderly upon her gaz d, 
 But no reply her dim d eyes lent ; 
 
 Her heart had broken at the sound 
 Of Edwy s guilt, and through the rent 
 
 Her spirit its departure found. 
 
 The priest is by the altar side, 
 Where Edvvy stands to claim his bride $ 
 " As thus I join you hand in hand, 
 Be join d in wedlock s holy band.- 
 A voice of thunder answers, " Never ! 
 Those hands eternally I sever! 
 The bridal ends at my command!" 
 A sword gleam d in Ethelliivs hand, 
 
 Which menacing he wavM on high ; 
 
 And those might deem, who met his eye, 
 They saw Revenge embodied stand, 
 For in that eye the lightnings shone 
 That blaze around a Fury s throne. 
 
 " Hold, madman! calm thy rage awhile. 
 Nor heaven s shrine with blood defile ; 
 A fitter place, and fitter time, 
 Shall prove my arm can cope with thine." 
 
( 106 ) 
 
 " This is no more a hallow d shrine ; 
 Wert thou in heav n, thou child of crime, 
 
 ]Not heav n itself were then divine ! 
 But time nor place does vengeance heed, 
 Die, villain! Laura bids thee bleed!" 
 
 An eager throng to part them rushM, 
 
 But interfered in vain : 
 Ethellm s sword with crimson blush d 
 That from the side of Edwy gush d 5 
 " Laura! I have aveng d thy wrong! 
 
 Thy murderer is slain !" 
 He shouted, while the parting throng, 
 Receded as he rush d along, 
 
 Not daring him detain. 
 
 Upon the walls, in blackness hung, 
 A shaded light the tapers flung, 
 
 That added to the gloom; 
 And there, in funeral garb array d, 
 Amanda weeps, the widow d maid, 
 
 She weeps, but weeps for whom ? 
 Her tears on Edwy s bier are shed 
 For him by whom that Edwy bled, 
 For him whom the avenging foes 
 To danger and to death expose. 
 
( 107 ) 
 
 She heeded not when Edvvy fell, 
 
 Here thoughts were on the stranger cast, 
 So lovely, though so terrible ! 
 Her eye pursu d him as he past 
 Amid the throng ; and when at last 
 
 They rais d the fearful yell 
 Of vengeance, terror seiz d her soul, 
 Now first enthral d in love s control, 
 And thoughts she dar d not tell. 
 
 And now she weeps the impending danger 
 That threats the interesting stranger, 
 When to her terror and surprise 
 That stranger stands before her eyes. 
 
 " Didst thou adore a demon then ? 
 And didst thou love that worst of men ? 
 Yet would I not recal the deed, 
 For love and vengeance bade him bleed ; 
 The wretch through whom my sister died 
 But ill in thee deserv d a bride. 
 Thank heaven that thy tears are vain, 
 They cannot call him back again ; 
 And if they could, again should he 
 
 Receive what late my vengeance gave him. 
 E en if thyself, on bending knee, 
 
 Shouldst plead in agony to save him. 
 He well deserv d the fate he met ; 
 E en as he is, I hate him yet, 
 
( 108 ) 
 
 Though he is dead my fury lives, 
 And scarce thy sympathy forgives. 
 
 " 1 love thee ! love me not again 
 Be thou a stranger to the pain 
 Of love like mine ! I go alone 
 To brave a destiny unknown ; 
 The church, by sacrilege alarm d, 
 Against me has its fury arm d ; 
 And Edwy s friends and kindred rise 
 My life for his to sacrifice ; 
 Belov d by none, by all abhor d, 
 By such a wretch thou art ador d ! 
 
 " Farewell, my darling girl ! farewell 
 
 To thee, and hopes I may not cherish : 
 Again must I repeat the knell 
 
 Of joys that only dawn d to perish! 
 A friend belov d I never yet 
 
 Have found, but we were doom d to sever, 
 And thou, the dearest ever met! 
 
 We only meet to part forever!" 
 
 He rush d away, but left behind 
 His image in Amanda s mind ; 
 And oft her heart, for his return, 
 In hope s delirium would burn ; 
 And by that hope delusive led 
 She oft the rocky height would tread, 
 
( 109 ) 
 
 And would gaze for hours upon the sea, 
 Where she thought his bark returning might be, 
 
 The brow of heaven darkly lowers, 
 The blazing lightnings gild the sky 
 Which shakes with heaven- s artillery; 
 The earth is bath d by rapid showers ; 
 The winds unfetter d, toss the ocean, 
 Foaming at their rude commotion : 
 Unable now to guide the way, 
 The pilot yields the storm the sway, 
 Which drives the bark toward the shore 
 Ethellin thought to tre*d no more. 
 
 I know my doom is fix d by heaven, 
 Since I toward this shore am driven ; 
 Alike upon the sea and land 
 I view impending dangers stand ; 
 But death is welcome ; life denies 
 All that could bid me life to prize." 
 
 " The ship is lost! the waves she drinks! 
 Fly to the boats! she sinks! she sinks!" 
 Amid the crew the clamour rung, 
 As to the boats dismay d they sprung. 
 
 Ere yet the storm its wrath betray d, 
 Upon the rocks had stood a maid 
 
Gazing upon the distant bark ; 
 
 The tempest scarce would she remark 
 
 When it arose ; to the effect 
 
 Her thoughts were so intently given, 
 The cause itself claim d but neglect ; 
 
 She saw the gallant vessel riven, 
 She saw when to the boats they sprung, 
 And knew her lov d one them among. 
 
 " Tis he!" she cried, and with delight 
 And eagerness, rush d from the height. 
 Upon the shore had gather d a throng 
 
 To watch the fate of the distrest ; 
 
 There Wilfred stood among tho rest. 
 And as Amanda rush d along, 
 (The winds among her tresses raving, 
 Adown her neck dishevel d waving,) 
 Her looks and gestures were so wild 
 The father could not know his child. 
 
 She watch d, with mingled hope and fear, 
 The bark that bore Ethellin near ; 
 A wave that seem d to kiss the skies 
 A moment hid him from her eyes 5 
 They sunk, Ethellin rose again, 
 Alone he struggled, and in vain ; 
 Again he sunk, she saw no more, 
 Her lifeless form away they bore. 
 
Life is rostor d, but reason has fled, 
 
 Yet love exists in madness still, 
 
 And love exist forever will 
 Till she herself shall be with the dead. 
 But him, her tears as dead deplore, 
 A wave had cast upon the shore ; 
 Some peasants found him senseless there, 
 And life return d beneath their care. 
 
 They knew he was condemned to die ; 
 
 None would betray him ; but his flight 
 
 They urg d ; a bark that very night 
 To bear him thence was heaving nigh ; 
 And he was watching for it, when 
 
 The lovely maniac met his eyes ; 
 All else was quite forgotten then 
 
 In pity, horror, and surprise. 
 
 vi Amanda!" mournfully he cried, 
 " I come! he calls me!" she replied, 
 " The mermaids have woven thy shroud, my 
 love, 
 
 The billows thy sepulchre be ; 
 Thy dirge is the thunder, so loud, my love, 
 
 And the roar of the winds and the sea! 
 Thy spirit is thron d on a wave, my love, 
 
 I see it ; it beckons to me ! 
 I come to lie down in thy grave, my love. 
 
 And sleep in the ocean with thee!" 
 
She would have sprung into the wave, 
 
 But his grasp was ready again to save ; 
 
 That instant the bark he watch d for appeared, 
 
 He led her there, and it bounded away ; 
 
 There came to her mind a becalming ray, 
 As she fell asleep on his bosom endear d ; 
 
 And when she awoke, oh! who can say 
 How glad was the change ! for, her reason 
 
 restor d, 
 She knew him, Ethellin, her lov d, her ador d ! 
 
 As soon as they came to another land 
 
 At the altar she pledg d him her heart and her 
 
 hand ; 
 
 And their life from that time was a life^of bliss, 
 As pure as may be in a world like this. 
 
113 
 
 THE DREAM OF BLISS 
 
 THE dream of bliss how soon it vanish dl 
 How soon its charms by truth were banish d! 
 The dream of bliss though fled forever, 
 That dream can be forgotten never. 
 
 Me thought the fairest under heaven 
 To me a faithful heart had given ; 
 Methought the lovely Mary priz d me, 
 I woke to find that she despis cl me. 
 
 My prospects by misfortune blighted, 
 My passion unreturivd and slighted. 
 Contemn d, unpitied, I must languish. 
 Nor even hope beguiles mine anguish. 
 
 But still undying burns the fire 
 Of Love, while all the hopes expire 
 This bosom never more may cherish, 
 For love but with my life can perish. 
 
 K 2 
 
SCORN REQUITED. 
 
 I COULD not tremble at thy frown, 
 I could not kneel thy smile to gain. 
 
 But I had laid existence down 
 
 To save thee from a moment s pain ; 
 
 Oh! think not that 1 lov d the less 
 
 That words could ill my love express! 
 
 Before thy heart a pang should know 
 Mine own a sacrifice should bleed ; 
 
 But one, more skill d in words to show 
 The love I could but prove in deed, 
 
 Has rob d thy heart, and left me all 
 
 The scorn that on himself should fall. 
 
 Since lips profan d by nectar d lies 
 Could make thy heart my rival s prey? 
 
 I cannot but that heart despise, 
 And let affection die away, 
 
 And thy contempt, unjustly borne, 
 
 Repay thee with a juster scorn. 
 
 This heart shall never love again 
 If all thy sex resemble thee, 
 
For none were worthy to obtain 
 
 Such love as once was known to me, 
 Who like thyself can love despise 
 That wears not flattery s disguise. 
 
 MARY, DEAREST. 
 
 Go not yet, my Mary dear! 
 
 We too soon must sever, 
 Thou perhaps without a tear, 
 
 Though we part forever 
 When we part! Oh love! that hour 
 
 Still delay when nearest ; 
 Let my prayer with thee have power, 
 
 Go not, Mary, dearest! 
 
 Go not yet, my Mary dear! 
 
 Love I urg d unheeded, 
 But wilt thou refuse to hear 
 
 When for pity pleaded ? 
 Soon I from my native shore 
 
 Fly to exile drearest ; 
 But till I may stay no more, 
 
 Go not, Mary, dearest! 
 
Go not yet, ray Mary dear! 
 
 Ours no future meeting! 
 Bid not moments, I shall ne er 
 
 Know again, be fleeting. 
 If too much by more delay 
 
 Me to bless thou fearest, 
 Go! if not, in pity stay! 
 
 Go not, Mary, dearest! 
 
 THE BILLET-DOUX 
 
 I SAT mine own belov d one nigh, 
 Who blushing, with averted eye, 
 With bashful hesitation plac d 
 Into my hand the billet trac d 
 By hers ; the lines were simple, few,- 
 And might be to the jealous view 
 Of one of such a fiery mould 
 As mine, dispassionate and cold. 
 
 It nothing breath d of passion s flame, 
 Or even friendship s colder claim : 
 The lines were such as might be pen d 
 By one in scarcely name a friend ; 
 
And yet my burning heart forgave her :- 
 Cold as it was. it was a favour 
 I had not look d for ; she had been 
 So hard thus far alone to win. 
 
 I thought it worth a sacred care. 
 For her dear name was written there, 
 And written by the only hand 
 I thought it heaven to command ; 
 t prest that name with passion s kiss, 
 Nor deem d what then the gush of bliss 
 Commanded, soon should tears employ 
 As tributes to departed joy. 
 
 But even day I found the same 
 Her coldness, till upon my flame 
 
 At last was thrown a kindied chill, 
 
 And I renounc d her then ; but still 
 Oft as this billet meets my sight 
 I sigh, regretting the delight 
 That, when I read it first. I felt 
 Inspired by hopes her heart to melt. 
 
 By any if may be possest 
 
 The power to warm so cold a breast, 
 
 That one I am not ; perish then 
 
 Ye cold effusions of her pen ! 
 
 Cold as ye are. \e once could wake 
 
 The hopes that now my heart forsake ; 
 
( H8 ) 
 
 But they have perish d, perish too, 
 Nor mind me more that them I knew. 
 
 MARTIAL ODE. 
 
 THE trumpet has sounded, 
 
 "To battle, away!" 
 By thousands surrounded 
 
 In gallant array, 
 
 The warrior hastens in battle to claim 
 A bed of gore, or a wreath of fame. 
 
 Above the banners are proudly streaming, 
 
 Fan d in baltlo e arising gale ; 
 Terribly bright the arms are gleaming, 
 
 That soon must be dim d in a crimson veil. 
 
 The foes have met contending ; 
 Fame and Conquest to decide 
 
 On the strife impending, 
 Above them in their car ethereal ride. 
 Their eye on battle bending. 
 Terribly flashing, 
 Swiftly descending, 
 Every sword is bloodily dyed. 
 Armour clashing, 
 
Shrieks and shouts tumultuous blending 
 Rise, the startled welkin rending. 
 
 See the foe receding 
 
 From the victor s might ; 
 See the hero leading 
 
 To pursue their flight ; 
 See the warrior bleeding, 
 Struggling still to fight ; 
 On the field disabled lying, 
 See he grasps his weapon dying, 
 
 Shouting, while from the battle storm 
 The foes, confusedly flying, 
 
 Trample upon his mangled form, 
 Lightnings flashing from the eyes 
 Clos d in death that soon must be, 
 " Victory! Victory!" 
 Away ho springs 
 On glory s wings, 
 And in her bright embraces dies. 
 
 His bed of rest, though gory, 
 
 Is worthy of the brave ; 
 The starry wreaths of glory 
 
 Encanopy his grave; 
 And Conquest bends her laurel d head, 
 To shower her trophies on the illustrious dead. 
 
( 120 ) 
 MONODY ON 
 
 CHRISTIAN F. KARTELL, 
 
 " AWAY ! Away ! from earth away 
 And from the ills that there abound ! 
 
 Turn from its gloom to hail the ray 
 
 That streams from heaven s gate of day ; 
 Haste, spirit! with the blest be crown d. 
 
 O er whom eternal glories play ! 
 
 Haste, spirit! haste! Away! Away!" 
 
 His spirit, at the welcome song, 
 
 Away! Away!" exulting cried, 
 And springing to the angel throng, 
 Borne on. their radiant wings along, 
 
 Arose in heaven to abide ! 
 Ye mourners, hark! Does he not say 
 " Seek me in bliss! Away! Away! 
 
 And tJwUj on earth mine own by ties 
 The dearest that can mortals bind, 
 
 Heed not the form in earth which lies, 
 
 But seek my spirit in the skies, 
 Where thine shall with it be entwin d. 
 
O ! surely thine would not delay 
 When call d by mine, away away ! 
 
 Will it not be a welcome hour 
 
 When o er thee shall my spirit bend. 
 To call thee from corruption s power 
 To bloom with me, a heav nly flower, 
 Whose incense shall to Him ascend 
 Whose angels to His ransom d say, 
 " Haste, spirit! haste! Away! Away! 
 
 Away! mine own belov d! Away! 
 
 In heaven be again my bride ! 
 Thus gladden d will my spirit say, 
 When sent with heaven s bright array 
 
 On angel wings to bid thee ride. 
 No more asunder shall we stay! 
 Haste, spirit! haste! Away! Away!" 
 
( 12* ) 
 
 LINES, 
 
 Occasioned by reading a Monody, written on the 
 Death of one of the Authors Brothers, by ano 
 ther, who himself died soon after. 
 
 MY brother! o er a brother s tomb 
 
 When sweetly rung thy harp of sorrow, 
 I little thought it was my doom 
 
 O er thine to sweep it on the morrow ! 
 And soon, how soon I cannot say, 
 
 With him and thee shall I be sleeping, 
 And o er my grave, to sorrow s lay, 
 
 Some Minstrel may the Harp be sweeping. 
 
 But if to mine unhonour d name 
 
 No Minstrel should the Harp awaken, 
 Nor e en my grave the tears should claim 
 
 That from my heart thine own has taken, 
 The world s unkind neglect can be 
 
 But little heeded by my spirit, 
 Which shall, I trust, with him and thee 
 
 The Kingdom of our God inherit. 
 
123 
 
 TO EVELINA P - TT. 
 
 THERE was a time. there was a time, 
 
 When I like thee was pure was blest ! 
 When not a thought of shame or crime, 
 
 With its pollution stain d my breast! 
 While childhood bids each fairest flower 
 
 Of bliss, thine infant brow entwine, 
 1 think how I in childhood s hour 
 
 Was pure as thee, sweet Eveline ! 
 
 My childhood fled and with it fled 
 
 Tho Wisrr, - tfiCTOTiocxrrrcTrit gerre me! 
 
 No guardian angel o er me spread 
 Her wing, from stain of earth to save me ! 
 
 But Oh, may heaven ne er allow 
 The path of error to be thine, 
 
 Whose thorns were trod by him. who now 
 Must envy thee, sweet Eveline ! 
 
 Good angels guard thee from all ill. 
 
 And heaven all the bliss bestow 
 That now is thine, upon thee still 
 
 When beauty s ripest tints shall glow 
 Upon the cheek, on which so oft 
 
 JVly lips in fondest touch recline, 
 
( 124 ) 
 
 To seal in the impression soft, 
 My love for thee, sweet Eveline ! 
 
 1 know not how thine infant breast 
 
 Repays the feelings, by mine own 
 For thee, my darling child, confest : 
 
 From few I love return d have known ! 
 May all to thy young bosom dear 
 
 Repay thy love with love like mine, 
 Though mine have no return sincere, 
 
 From even thee, sweet Eveline ! 
 
 It matters not, for we must part, 
 
 And not beneath mine eye shall grow 
 The beauties which thy form and heart 
 
 Shall to thy parents gaze bestow ; 
 Increasing may thy beauty s light, 
 
 External and internal, shine 
 To bless them, till an angel quite, 
 
 They meet in heav n their Eveline ! 
 
 MY DARLING LITTLE MARY. 
 
 WHEN childhood shall have flown away. 
 And youth its bloom shall lend thee, 
 
( 125 ) 
 
 May all the bliss of childhood s day, 
 And innocence, attend thee ; 
 
 Nor may a heart so pure and blest, 
 For guilt or sorrow vary, 
 
 Which now are strangers to thy breast. 
 My darling little Mary. 
 
 When Beauty s glow is on thee thrown, 
 
 May it be thine endeavour 
 Xot outward charms to win alone, 
 
 But those that perish never : 
 Since all the charms that meet the eye 
 
 Are not more bright than airy, 
 Be thine the charms that never die. 
 
 My darling little Mary. 
 
 On earth may Mary long repay 
 
 The fondness of a mother, 
 Vnd from this world when call d away 
 
 By death, to seek another, 
 May angels her pure spirit bear 
 
 To bliss that cannot vary, 
 Vnd may she find a mother there 
 
 To clasp her darling Mary. 
 
126 
 
 TO AMELIA K G, 
 
 DEAR little cherub! when beside me 
 
 Thy laughing beauty glads mine eyes, 
 Although the blessing is denied me 
 
 Which none so well know how to prize. 
 Although I am debar d from hearing 
 
 Affection s music from thy tongue, 
 The music that with touch endearing 
 
 Had thrilling o er my heart-strings rung, 
 Yet when thy brow of marble whiteness 
 
 I press, or thy carnation cheek, 
 Thine eyes, which beam with laughing brightness. 
 
 To mine a thrilling language speak : 
 Though from thy lips the fond confession 
 
 I may not be allow d to hear, 
 Thine eyes declare, in sweet expression, 
 
 Thy pure young heart esteems me dear. 
 It is but lately thou hast known me, 
 
 Yet even now thou lov st me well, 
 For such thine artless looks have shown me ; 
 
 And how I love thee none can tell ! 
 I love thee as I were thy brother ; 
 
 Then in Amelia let me claim 
 My little sister, since none other 
 
 I have who may command the name* 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 When in thine innocent caresses 
 
 I feel such gladness I could weep ; 
 When wreath my fingers in thy tresses, 
 
 Or softly o er my cheek they sweep ; 
 Around thee when mine arm is twining 
 
 To clasp thee in a dear embrace ; 
 When soft thine eyes on mine are shining, 
 
 Or press my lips thy cherub face ; 
 1 pray that thou by Him above thee, 
 
 As I would bless thee, may be blest; 
 That He may love thee as I love thee, 
 
 And take thy spirit to His breast : 
 And there, Amelia, may I meet thee, 
 
 When free shall be my tongue and ear ; 
 When words of love from me shall greet thee, 
 
 And I the same from thee shall hear. 
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 OH! what is life? A painful dream 
 That death awakes us from 
 
 Death, who however he may seem 
 In terror cloth d to some, 
 
 Our lot from anguish to redeem 
 Shall like an angel come, 
 
( 128 ) 
 
 And clasp us to his icy breast, 
 Where ev ry care is lull d to rest ; 
 Since well that rest we need, Oh ! why 
 Should we thus fearful be to die ? 
 
 The dark impressions on the heart 
 
 Of many a deed of ill, 
 The terrors to the grave impart, 
 
 From which with shudd ring thrill 
 Our guilty minds revolting start, 
 
 And cling to being still ; 
 Though in that being we can find 
 No fairy spell our souls to bind, 
 And all our thousand sorrows say, 
 " Turn from this wretched world away!" 
 
 Whatever we may suffer here, 
 
 Tf what we merit all 
 Were ours, a doom far more severe 
 
 Upon our heads would fall ; 
 And when, our spirits to unsphere, 
 
 Death sounds the awful call, 
 We shrink with horror from the world 
 To come, where on us may be hurl d 
 A doom deserv d. Fears of the grave 
 Our minds but by our guilt enslave. 
 
 But Christian, shall such fears invade 
 The breast of one for whom 
 
( 129 ) 
 
 A Saviours life a ransom paid i 
 
 Wilt thou too dread the tomb, 
 Where the Redeemer s head was laid 
 
 To save thee from the doom 
 Which none but those \\lio scorn Him meet ? 
 Xo Christian, at thy Saviour s feet 
 Thy life thou with its crimes canst lay, 
 With hope s instead of terror s sway. 
 
 THE PRAYER OF PURITY. 
 
 LIKE thee I am not one of those 
 
 Whose prayers to answer heav n will deign, 
 For never yet my prayer arose 
 
 For bliss, but it arose in vain : 
 Continued still a shower of woes 
 
 Upon my fated head to rain ; 
 And I must deem, though heav n indeed 
 May hear, my prayers it will not heed. 
 
 Yet why should heav n regard a prayer 
 
 To bless me? what am I but one 
 Who well deserve the curse to bear 
 
 From childhood thrown my doom upon? 
 
( 130 ) 
 
 Shall those who tread in error dare 
 
 Expect that error s thorns to shun? 
 I suffer more than others do, 
 But I have err d as widely too. 
 
 Yet there are prayers that might avail 
 
 To bless me, though no prayers of mine ;- 
 
 Nor even mine to call would fail 
 For one, a ray from heaven s shrine ; 
 
 For bliss my future lot would hail, 
 Invok d by lips so pure as thine ; 
 
 And blessings would embalm thy head. 
 
 Although by lips unholy shed. 
 
 Then still shall bend my suppliant knee, 
 Not for myself, but one more dear; 
 
 And thou, O ! thou wilt pray for me, 
 And heav n sure thy prayer will hear, 
 
 And throw, for one unstain d asthee, 
 Oblivion on my past career ; 
 
 And angels, thee to emulate, 
 
 Will brighten my hereafter fate. 
 
131 
 
 THOU ART GONE BEFORE ME 
 
 THINE every joy thou bad st me share, 
 And when my brow was dark with care, 
 
 Thine own its gloom would borrow ; 
 How often, when with aching head, 
 I writh d upon a restless bed, 
 
 With kind affection s sorrow, 
 Thy hand this burning brow has prest, 
 That lost its anguish, thus carest, 
 
 And I was blest, but never, 
 
 never more shall I be blest, 
 For thou art lost forever ! 
 
 When thou my aching brow hast smoothed, 
 When thou my troubled heart hast soothed. 
 
 I thought, with pleasing sadness, 
 That thou, when death forbade my stay, 
 With flowers of love wonldst strew the way> 
 
 That I might tread with gladness : 
 
 1 thought that when upon the bier 
 I lay, bedew d with many a tear 
 
 By friendship bending o er me, 
 One might be shed than all more dear, 
 But thou art gone before me ! 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 OUR LOVE SHALL BLOOM IN 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 DEATH S angel hovers near, my love. 
 
 To tear me from thy sight ; 
 To all, however dear, my love, 
 
 I now must bid good night. 
 Adieu, to every friend adieu, 
 
 Andthou, esteem d by me 
 More dear, than all I ever knew, 
 
 Adieu, my love, to thee! 
 
 To bid adieu to thee, my love, 
 
 If death the pang would spare, 
 None other could there be, my love, 
 
 That I would shrink to bear ; 
 For death appears from every ill, 
 
 Misfortune s child to save ; 
 But ah ! thy love would turn me still, 
 
 Reluctant from the grave. 
 
 Nay, why from that bright eye, my love, 
 
 Should tears upon me rain? 
 Is there no world on high, my love. 
 
 Where we shall meet again? 
 
( 133 ) 
 
 An erring path though I have trod, 
 Mine errors are forgiven ; 
 
 If God of mercy be a God, 
 
 Our love shall bloom in heaven, 
 
 THE BRIDAL DAY. 
 
 " To day shall be our bridal day!" 
 How blest was either thus to say, 
 As he was from his true-love turning, 
 (His kisses on her brow still burning,) 
 To wait the hour when they should meet, 
 To pledge their truth at Hymen s feet. 
 
 The hour expected now is near, 
 And soon her lover will appear, 
 To lead her to the altar side,; 
 Thus fondly thinks the promis d bride. 
 Is that his step ? she runs, she flies, 
 Tis not her lover meets her eyes, 
 With troubled brow, and bath d in tears, 
 The brother of her love appears. 
 
( 134 ) 
 
 " Where is my Edgar? where?" she cried, 
 
 He answer d not, but at his side 
 
 He led her to the bridal hall ; 
 
 The bridal guests were thronging all 
 
 With eager gaze one spot around : 
 
 She rush d and there her Edgar found 
 
 Bereft of life! for so they said, 
 
 Her Edgar, her beloved was dead ! 
 
 Yet never wore that noble brow 
 
 A look more calm and proud than now : 
 
 Nor even love s keen eyes could trace 
 
 The change of death upon his face ; 
 
 And it were vain upon his cheek 
 
 Corruption s paly robe to seek, 
 
 For still that cheek appeared to wear 
 
 The rose of beauty blooming there ; 
 
 Nor from his lip the soft deep red, 
 
 That there had blush d in life, was fled ; 
 
 His ringlets floated in the sighs 
 
 Of those who bovv d their weeping eyes ; 
 
 Save that, his eyes to curtain, met 
 
 The lilly and the violet, 
 
 You could not in his features see 
 
 A trait but what in life might be ; 
 
 Nay his fair lids so sweetly laid 
 
 The beauteous stars beneath to shade, 
 
 And, playing on his lips, was seen 
 
 A smile so lovely and serene, 
 
( 135 ) 
 
 You might have said, " Can death be this? 
 Then death is but a dream of bliss !" 
 
 She spoke not, wept not, but beside 
 Her lover, knelt the widow d bride : 
 And then some thought they heard her say. 
 To day shall be our bridal day!" 
 
 They spoke--she mov d not,~from the ground 
 They rais d her, and her spirit found 
 Departed to her lover s, where 
 No power their ties apart might tear ; 
 Their love immortally shall bloom 
 Whose bridal bed is in the tomb. 
 
 TO JULIA MARIA 
 
 WHEN thou in beauty s pride shalt bloom, 
 
 Whose tints are dawning o er thee now, 
 These limbs may wither in the tomb, 
 
 And reptiles clasp this aching brow ; 
 And when these eyes, that love to dwell 
 
 Upon thee with affection s ray, 
 Have bid to thee and all farewell, 
 
 Thine own may dwell upon this lay ; 
 
( 136 ) 
 
 The lay that when thy beauty s flower 
 Scarce from the infant bud had sprung, 
 
 To chase a pain d and idled hour, 
 Beneath my fever d fingers rung. 
 
 And thou perhaps wilt think upon 
 
 The transient moments that we met ; 
 Yes, thou wilt then remember one 
 
 Whom few have loved or will regret! 
 Remember, when this heart is still, 
 
 Its prayer was breathed, while yet it beat, 
 That mental nor external ill 
 
 My Julia s years to come should meet ; 
 That never her dear brow consign d 
 
 Might be, to pangs that burn mine own ; 
 Nor the dark clouds that shade my mind, 
 
 On hers by guilt or grief be thrown. 
 
( 137 ) 
 
 ODE FOR THE NEW- YEAR, 1826. 
 
 How many are now in the cold grave reposing 
 
 Who welcom d the dawn of the year that has 
 
 fled! 
 How little, alas! did they think that its closing 
 
 Should find them enshrin d in the urn of the 
 
 dead ! 
 How many a bosom, now bounding as lightly, 
 
 Shall yield its last throb, and be motionless laid ; 
 The spark of existence, now beaming so brightly, 
 
 Extinguish d forever in sepulchral shade : 
 How many this year to the grave s dark dominions 
 
 Shall hasten, who welcome its rising career, 
 Ere time once again on his air-feather d pinions 
 
 Shall usher the dawn of another New- Year! 
 
 Audi, who now muse on the thousands departed, 
 May follow them ere the return of this day, 
 
 Bedew d with the tears of some friend broken 
 hearted, 
 Who now smiles upon me unthinking and gay : 
 
 And better than I should survive to deplore them. 
 The few that to share my affections remain, 
 
 O better by far T should perish before them, 
 
 Nor hail the return of a New- Year again. 
 a 2 
 
( 138 ) 
 
 The hearts that now love me, will they not re 
 gret me, 
 
 Shall ever my memory cease to be dear? 
 The friends of my bosom, O can they forget me, 
 
 If swept from their sight by the close of the year? 
 
 If all I have lov d have repaid my affections 
 
 With ardour unbounded, unfeigned as mine own, 
 My name, in the hearts of my friends and 
 connexions, 
 
 Shall ever be cherish d on memory s throne j 
 But little it then will avail to me, whether 
 
 Remember d by those I have lov d, or forgot ; 
 In mansions of bliss when united together, 
 
 On earth if they valued my friendship or not, 
 .Love breathing around in the zephyrs of heaven 
 
 Shall each to the other forever endear, 
 Whom there our Redeemer a mansion has given 
 
 To live and to love through Eternity s Year. 
 
 PARAPHRASE OF 
 
 OSSIAN s ADDRESS TO THE SUN. 
 
 O thou that rollest o er thy fields 
 
 Of azure, in etherial height, 
 Round as my brave-arm d fathers shields. 
 
 Whence are thy beams, O Sun! thy light 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 Thine everlasting light ! when springs 
 
 Thine awful beauty forth; a veil 
 Around the trembling stars it flings, 
 
 And the dim moon sinks cold and pale 
 Beneath the western wave ; but thou 
 
 Rejoicest in thy course alone : 
 The mountain oaks to time shall bow ; 
 
 The mountain s selves be overthrown ; 
 The ocean shrinks and grows again ; 
 
 The moon herself is lost in heaven ; 
 But thou the same shalt ever reign, 
 
 In car of burning glory driven ! 
 When tempests dark the world deform, 
 
 When thunder rolls and lightning flies, 
 In beauty, laughing at the storm, 
 
 Burst from the clouds thy dazzling eyes, 
 Thou lookest forth but not to me, 
 
 Thy glories to my sight are lost ; 
 Thy beauteous beams I may not see, 
 
 Whether thy yellovv hair be tost 
 Athwart the eastern cloud on high, 
 
 Or at the portals of the west 
 Thou tremblest. ere thou leav st the sky. 
 
 In ocean s lap to sink to rest. 
 
( 140 ) 
 HORACE, LIB. 1st. ODE 5th. 
 
 TO PYRRHA. 
 
 For whom in undulating tresses 
 
 Does Pyrrha wreath her golden hair? 
 What slender youth, who lightly presses 
 
 A bed of roses, courts thee there? 
 Bedew d with an ambrosial river, 
 
 The credulous lover little dreams 
 The bark of pleasure storms shall shiver, 
 
 Now dancing o er those fragrant streams. 
 
 Alas ! how oft of changeful heaven 
 
 And broken faith, shall he complain, 
 Who now, to thy delusions given, 
 
 Enjoys a dream so bright, so vain ! 
 When he beholds the face of ocean 
 
 Roughen d with bkck ning winds, and views 
 The storms unwonted, whose commotion 
 
 His paradise in ruin strews! 
 
 Unhappy all to thee a stranger 
 
 Who think that thou art fair! for me, 
 
 Escap d from their impending danger, 
 The stern controller of the sea 
 
Beholds upon his shrine suspended 
 My garments, dripping from the main. 
 
 The wreck, whose perils now are ended, 
 To call to memor aain. 
 
 I LOVED THEE EVER DEARLY. 
 
 DELUSIVE maid, who in my breast 
 
 The passion didst awaken, 
 Whose influence is still confest, 
 
 Though I am thus forsaken ; 
 Though by thy falsehood doom d to part 
 
 From one I lov d sincerely, 
 I could not tear thee from my heart, 
 
 But lov ? d thee ever dearly ! 
 
 O never may the faithless heart, 
 
 That once to me was given, 
 Endure the agonizing smart 
 
 Of vows by others riven ! 
 May he thou hast to me prefer d, 
 
 Repay thy love sincerely, 
 Nor falsely speak the tender word. 
 
 "I ll love thee ever dearly!" 
 
Farewell I shall not meet again 
 
 With thee, O never, never! 
 On earth I may no more remain, 
 
 Farewell farewell forever! 
 He comes, the welcome angel death, 
 
 And Oh it is sincerely 
 I tell thee, with my dying breath, 
 
 I lov d thee ever dearly! 
 
 May my departing spirit crave 
 
 Thy thoughts beyond to-morrow? 
 Say wilt thou ever seek my grave 
 
 To drop the tear of sorrow? 
 O if upon my lifeless clay 
 
 That tear is dropt sincerely, 
 My spirit will arise to say, 
 
 " I lov d thee ever dearly!" 
 
 THE EVER BLOOMING FLOWER 
 
 THE OLD MAN s SONG. 
 
 ELIZA, we were in our May 
 When first I call d thee mine ; 
 
 But though our youth has flown away 
 My heart continues thine : 
 
( 143 ) 
 
 Though every charm by thee possest 
 
 Receding years devour, 
 Love flourishes within my breast, 
 
 The ever blooming flower. 
 
 With thee encircled in these aims, 
 
 Our youth returns again ; 
 And memory recals the charms 
 
 The eye would trace in vain : 
 The rose must like those charms decay. 
 
 The pride of Flora s bower, 
 But love can never fade away, 
 
 The ever blooming flower* 
 
 When death with his commission dread 
 
 Beside us shall appear, 
 Xo thorns shall strew our dying bed, 
 
 For love shall banish fear : 
 We cannot fly the tyrant s doom, 
 
 But may contemn his power, 
 For love shall flourish on our tomb, 
 
 The ever blooming flower. 
 
( 144 ) 
 
 TO ELIZABETH 
 
 THE dawning bloom of youth appears 
 
 Its tints upon thy cheek to throw, 
 Which in a few succeeding years 
 
 With those of womanhood will glow ; 
 But what are the carnation dye, 
 
 The ruby lip, the brow of snow ; 
 The laughing, sparkling, melting, eye ; 
 
 The ringlets wild luxuriant flow ; 
 And all external charms combin d, 
 To those which beautify the mind ? 
 
 All beauty is by that surpast 
 
 Which awes the heart its fetters bind ; 
 Let modesty around thee cast 
 
 That brightest charm of womankind ; 
 And may thy lips celestial truth 
 
 Her holy accents breathe upon ; 
 That, while recedes the bloom of youth, 
 
 Esteem undying may be won ; 
 The charms of virtue thou canst save, 
 Triumphant over beauty s grave. 
 
 A stranger to affliction s sighs, 
 To thee be ev ry blessing known ; 
 
( 145 I) 
 
 Yet with the wretched sympathize, 
 To whom a darker fate is shown ; 
 
 The tear that mourns another s pain 
 In beauty s eye a gem appears, 
 
 Her power resistless to enchain 
 
 Our homage, when compassion s tears 
 
 Glitter upon her cheek, resembling 
 
 The dew on blushing leaflets trembling. 
 
 Be virtue thine, and though the power 
 
 Of time may dim that sparkling eye, 
 Sweep from thy cheek each blushing flower. 
 
 And bid thine ev ry beauty die ; 
 If only outward charms were given, 
 
 Though such as all the world admire. 
 The brightest, loveliest under heaven, 
 
 Would fail the homage to inspire, 
 Thou shalt from every heart obtain 
 When virtue s charms alone remain. 
 
 ONE KISS BEFORE WE PART. 
 
 ONE kiss before we part, love, 
 Ere o er the waters blue 
 
 Yon bark, too swiftly bounding, 
 Shall waft me from thy view ! 
 
 N 
 
O let thy lips infuse, love, 
 Their balm into my heart ; 
 
 To soothe this hour of pain, bestow 
 One kiss before we part ! 
 
 One kiss before we part, love, 
 
 That till we meet again 
 My dearest hopes may cherish, 
 
 Though all those hopes be vain ; 
 O say not they are vain, love, 
 
 To wring this doating heart, 
 But give, though but in kind deceit, 
 
 One kiss before we part ! 
 
 FAREWELL TO EMMA. 
 
 To thee when I resign d my heart, 
 
 And in return thine own was given, 
 I little thought that we should part, 
 
 That I should lose the earthly heaven, 
 From which I now, alas ! am hurl d 
 
 Into the gulf of misery, 
 While none is left in all the world 
 
 To love, or be belov d by me ! 
 
( 147 ) 
 
 Yes there is one We have not yet 
 
 RecalVl the hearts we once exchanged : 
 And never, never can forget, 
 
 Though now eternally estranged, 
 The raptures we together kne\v, 
 
 As roving by each others side. 
 Believing all our visions true, 
 
 I haiPd in thee my future bride. 
 Upon our lips the fatal wand 
 
 Of silence, is forever laid ; 
 But lovers well can understand 
 
 The language in the eyes pourtray d ; 
 And when thine eyes encounterd mine, 
 
 But why thus madly backward throw 7 
 Our glance to joys we must resign, 
 
 \\ hose memory augments our woe ? 
 I dare not meet those eyes again, 
 
 Their tenderness the heart would burst 
 That, like thine own, so long in vain 
 
 The hopeless flame within has nurst. 
 The arms, to whose embrace I sprung 
 
 Before we parted in despair, 
 Those arms would still be open flung, 
 
 And bid me find a welcome there ; 
 The lips that mine so oft have prest 
 
 Again with mine their breath would blend. 
 I might be, as I have been, blest 
 
 Did all alone on love depend ; 
 
( 148 ) 
 
 But ah! that fatal bar between, 
 
 We may not, dare not overthrow ! 
 If this in time had been foreseen, 
 
 Not now such anguish should we know ! 
 If hope had never fan d our flame, 
 
 By time or absence it might die, 
 But now it still must burn the same, 
 
 While years on years receding fly ; 
 And though again we dare not meet, 
 
 Our hearts with one another dwell, 
 And we forever must repeat, 
 
 " To thee but not to love Farewell!" 
 
 FAIR ADELAIDE. 
 
 ; THEY forc d my love to yonder tower 
 
 To listen to a hated tale ; 
 But when oppos d to tyrant power 
 
 Can love to prove triumphant fail ? 
 To arms, my friends ! to arms ! away ! 
 For beauty s tears forbid delay ; 
 And this shall be our battle cry, 
 Fair Adelaide and Victory!" 
 
( 149 ) 
 
 " Fair Adelaide arid Victory !" 
 
 ExuUing they repeat the sound 
 Sebastian with a startled eye 
 
 Beholds the threatening foe around : 
 ;i To aims! to arms!" Sebastian cries, 
 " To arms / His enemy replies, 
 " For we to-day must do or die 
 For Adelaide and Victory!" 
 
 The gallant band the portals gain : 
 Sebastian with a maniac s ire 
 
 Attempts to check their way in vain; 
 They rush like an impetuous fire 
 
 Consuming all before their path 
 
 The trembling vassals fly their wrath. 
 
 The victors shouting, as they fly. 
 
 " Fair Adelaide and Victory!" 
 
 Amid the thickest of the fight 
 
 Impetuously the lover dasivd. 
 And with a meteor s fearful light 
 
 Among the foe his weapon flash d, 
 Its lightning sweep so terrible 
 It witherd all on whom it fell! 
 He shouted, as it wav d on high, 
 " Fair Adelaide and Victory !" 
 
Sebastian in his father s halls 
 Has sunk beneath his rival s blade, 
 
 Who rushes from the hated walls 
 To bear away his lovely maid ; 
 
 Encircled in her hero s arms, 
 
 The heart that throb d with wild alarms. 
 
 Now beats with transport, as they cry, 
 
 - : Fair Adelaide and Victory!" 
 
 INCONSTANCY. 
 
 WHEN with Eliza meeting 
 Joy kindled in her eyes, 
 
 How blissful was the greeting I 
 But rapture quickly flies ; 
 
 A woman s love is fleeting, 
 And in its bloom it dies. 
 
 /V woman s love is seeming, 
 
 A woman s smiles deceive, 
 And those are idly dreaming 
 
 AVho woman s lips believe, 
 Or from her eye s mild beaming 
 
 A ray of bliss receive. 
 
Though now so ill requited 
 
 By her that I adore ; 
 Though all my hopes are blighted r 
 
 And she will smile no more : 
 Though in despair benighted, 
 
 I have been blest before. 
 
 Though every former favour 
 
 Has melted into air, 
 My love shall never waver, 
 
 Unshaken by despair, 
 But on my heart engrave her. 
 
 To dwell forever there. 
 
 MY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 MY childhood scenes ! Oh where are they ? 
 
 I now am but in boyhood s years, 
 Yet on no scene my glance can stray 
 
 To memory one trace endears 
 
 Of childhood s smiles, or childhood s tears ; 
 I look at every spot so strange, 
 
 So alter d now, and then I say, 
 While pain d my heart remarks the change, 
 
 " My childhood scenes ! Oh where are they ?" 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 My childhood friends ! Oh where are they ? 
 
 The dearest in the grave recline, 
 And others long estrang d away 
 
 Forget they e er were friends of mine ; 
 
 And yet I never can resign 
 The memory of even such 
 
 As least repaid affection s sway ; 
 But still this thought my soul must touch, 
 
 " My childhood friends! Oh where are they ?" 
 
 My childhood joys! Oh where are they ? 
 
 And where the innocence, which gave 
 To every joy its purest ray ? 
 
 Those joys have found an early grave ; 
 
 That innocence! Oh could J save 
 The innocence of childhood s hour, 
 
 Not thus should I be sorrow s prey, 
 Nor sigh, beneath affliction s shower, 
 
 " My childhood joys! Oh where are they ?" 
 
 Where is my childhood now ? And where 
 
 Shall be my youth ? Its every joy ? 
 Its every scene ? But heaven spare 
 
 \\sfriendS) whatever time destroy ; 
 
 And if some feelings yet employ 
 My mind, which heav n may pure esteem. 
 
 Oh ! may I not the horror bear 
 To say, when launch d on manhood s stream, 
 
 " Where are such feelings now! Ah where 2 r? 
 
153 
 
 COME TO MY HO3IE 
 
 OH! come, my love, Come to my home with me. 
 Tho there not the grandeur of thine thou wilt see, 
 But poverty s traces alone will discover, 
 Yet be what it may, tis the home of thy lover. 
 
 From this palace of pride though I call thee away 
 For a moment, believe not I d urge thee to stay ; 
 Come, love, for a moment, then leave it forever, 
 And a charm will remain that can fade from it 
 never. 
 
 For if thou wilt leave thy dear image behind. 
 When thickest and darkest my evils I find, 
 I will turn to my home, in the hour of my sorrow, 
 From that image a charm that may soothe me to 
 borrow. 
 
 My home once possest all the pride of thine own, 
 And the fortune was mine that before thee is 
 
 thrown ; 
 
 But mine only regret o er the wreck of my splendor 
 Is that to my dearest I nothing may tender. 
 
( 154 ) 
 
 For my hand too exalted and worthy thou art; 
 
 J nothing can offer to thee but my heart ; 
 
 And that heart better knows what a lover should 
 
 owe thee, 
 That to wish thee a fortune in all things below thee. 
 
 But come to my home, and let there be imprest 
 Thine image, the dearest enshrin d in my breast ; 
 When that image is there it will more than recover 
 The charms that have fled from the home of thy 
 lover. 
 
 THE CHARMS OF WOMAN. 
 
 THE bright sparkling stars we admire, 
 
 And the beams from Apollo that blaze ; 
 And we worship the lovelier fire 
 
 In the soft eyes of Woman that plays : 
 The bloom of the flourishing roses 
 
 Delight to the eyes can impart ; 
 And the bloom that dear Woman discloses 
 
 Has far more delight for the heart. 
 
 How sweetly the zephyrs are throwing 
 
 The fragrance they snatch from the flowers 
 
( 155 ) 
 
 How sweeter the breath that is flowing 
 From the pure lips of Woman to ours ! 
 
 Whatever around thee thou meetest 
 The spell of delight that can lend, 
 
 The brightest, the fairest, the sweetest. 
 In Woman far lovelier blend. 
 
 The charms which she lends to the senses 
 
 No charms upon earth can excel. 
 Save those which her spirit dispenses 
 
 To lay on our spirit a spell. 
 Her eyes have a heavenly splendor, 
 
 But if virtue have kindled its star 
 In her soul, its resplendence will lend her 
 
 A light that is lovelier far. 
 
 If the soil of her spirit should bear her 
 
 The flowers that from virtue are sprung, 
 Oh who but would think them much fairer 
 
 Than those on her cheek that are flung! 
 Her breath has a sweetness when blending 
 
 With ours, in the pure kiss of love ; 
 Far sweeter that breath were, ascending 
 
 In prayer to her Maker above. 
 
 When in one all the charms are united 
 On the soul and the senses that steal, 
 
 When we gaze on her softness delighted, 
 Or when to her brightness we kneel, 
 
( 156 ) 
 
 However those beauties may ravish 
 
 And fetter the soul and the eyes, 
 Not on them all our thoughts should we lavish, 
 
 But spare one at least for the skies. 
 
 If the light of her eyes we admire, 
 
 Oh ! what is the glory of Him 
 From whom heaven s eyes have the fire 
 
 To which even beauty s were dim 
 Who the blaze to Apollo has given 
 
 Which th$ stars to behold cannot bear 
 What splendor on earth or in heaven 
 
 Can with its Creator s compare ? 
 
 If all the creation discloses 
 
 Such beauty, our homage to claim, 
 How awful a beauty reposes 
 
 On the brow of the God whence it came! 
 When Woman upon you has laid her 
 
 Control, while you love and adore 
 Oh! think of the Being who made her, 
 
 And love Him and worship Him more ! 
 
157 
 
 THE SUN OF OUR LOT. 
 
 THE day soon recedes for the night, 
 
 And the night soon recedes for the day, 
 And thus, when our fortune is bright 
 
 Soon darkness will chase it away ; 
 Yet none should despair who are laid 
 
 In gloom, for ere long they may learn 
 That the light, though it swiftly may fade, 
 
 As swiftly again will return. 
 
 If the sun never shrouded his blaze, 
 
 The eyes of poor mortals would find 
 The longer he dazzled their gaze 
 
 The more to his light they were blind ; 
 And the sun of our lot would, like him, 
 
 To brighten our hearts lose the claim, 
 And all of its rays seem but dim, 
 
 If those rays were forever the same. 
 
 The sun most resplendent appears 
 
 When bursting the cloud o er him flung. 
 
 And nothing so pleasure endears 
 As that it from sorrow has sprung. 
 
( 158 ) 
 
 If to heaven with thanks we are bow d 
 For the sun it has given to bless, 
 
 Why should we repine at the cloud 
 That was given in mercy no less ? 
 
 For good we our Maker adore. 
 
 Nor less when enshrouded in ill 
 Adoring should bend Him before, 
 
 For good will return to us still ; 
 Then none should despair who are laid 
 
 In gloom, for ere long they may learn 
 That the light, though it swiftly may fade, 
 
 As swiftly again will return. 
 
 THE SHORE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 THOU hast gone away o er the stormy main, 
 
 Nor we know where thy bark may be, 
 Nor when thy returning sail again 
 
 The friends of thy heart may see ; 
 But thou canst believe, where er thou art. 
 
 That thither my mind extends, 
 And where er thou goest thou bearest the heart 
 
 Of one, at leastj of thy friends. 
 
( 159 ) 
 
 If 1 am calm when the tempest raves, 
 
 Tis not that I have forgot 
 How thou art expos d on the tossing waves, 
 
 Where peril attends thy lot ; 
 But tis that I know to thy gallant soul 
 
 The storm is more welcome than dread, 
 For thou lovest to see the surges roll 
 
 When the clouds burst over thy head. 
 
 And tis that I know the prayers, which rise 
 
 From an innocent heart for thee, 
 Will waft thee safe under frowning skies, 
 
 And over the madden d sea ; 
 For she, whose heart I had hop d to share, 
 
 Till I found that it all was thine, 
 Will shield thy dear head with many a prayer, 
 
 As wild as, and purer than mine. 
 
 When thou shalt return to thy native land, 
 
 In her to welcome thy bride ; 
 When thou shalt receive from her the hand, 
 
 That was to thy friend denied ; 
 To the ocean of bliss, where launch d will be, 
 
 The bark of thy soul, may be given 
 No shore to bound such a fairy sea, 
 
 Except the bright shore of heaven. 
 
( 160 ) 
 
 DELUDED LOVE 
 
 How oft enjoying at thy side 
 
 The hours of all my life the brightest, 
 I felt the hopes upon me glide 
 
 Which now, delusive maid, thou blightest! 
 I own my doom to lose thee just ; 
 
 Twas mad to think thou e er couldst love me 
 But still I might deserve thy trust, 
 
 Whoe er thy heart prefers above me. 
 
 Jn thee a kindred flame to dare 
 
 Expect, alas ! was frenzied blindness ; 
 And ev n the wish that thou wouldst share 
 
 A lot like mine was but unkindness ; 
 For never lot than mine was worse, 
 
 Its gloom extends to my connexions, 
 And thee might shadow with its curse 
 
 If we were link din our affections. 
 
 Nor one so stain d with sin and shame 
 Could merit thee, an earthly heaven ; 
 
 For deeds that thou wouldst shrink to name, 
 And thoughts that scarce may be forgiven, 
 
 Have oft polluted me, while thou 
 Hast ever been so pure, so holy, 
 
( 161 y 
 
 We read upon thy sainted brow 
 That thou art mark d for heaven solely. 
 
 Alone can to thy charge be laid 
 
 Thou wrong dst me by unkind dissembling : 
 The hopes were well to thee betray d 
 
 Which in my foolish heart were trembling : 
 In justice to me thou shouldst all 
 
 As soon as thou hadst mark d them smother ; 
 Shouldst tell me what I fain would call 
 
 Mine own, was given to another. 
 
 But no it was conceal d, and more 
 
 It was denied! hadst thou not spoken 
 That falsehood had I known before 
 
 What now to know my heart has broken. 
 Though ill I could the shock sustain, 
 
 Of every hope my heart bereaving, 
 I could not then as now complain 
 
 Of wrong in thy unkind deceiving. 
 
 I blame thee not that thou couldst know 
 For him than me a gentler feeling, 
 
 Nor would I blame upon thee throw 
 For not thine every thought revealing ; 
 
 But when thou didst profane thy tongue 
 With falsehood. when thou didst deny it. 
 o2 
 
To cherish hopes that thus have wrung 
 My heart, didst thou not wrong me by it? 
 
 1 might at least deserve thy trust, 
 
 Although I nothing else could merit ; 
 I might have been forewarn d I must 
 
 Resign the hopes, which could inherit 
 But disappointment and distress 
 
 Oh hadst thou more sincerely spoken, 
 Had or my hope or love been less, 
 
 My heart were ne er so rudely broken I 
 
 THE NIGHTLY MOURNER. 
 
 WHEN the fair moon sails along 
 Smiling on her bright-ey d throng, 
 From the lonely one, who now 
 On the cold sod hides his brow, 
 Thus his bitter plaint she hears 
 Echo through his night of tears : 
 
 " Shine not, empress of the night, 
 Veil in clouds thy beauteous light, 
 Bid the eyes that gem thy throne 
 Look not on me where I groan ; 
 
( 163 ) 
 
 For unnotic d T would weep 
 "Where Clarinda s ashes sleep. 
 
 When I look upon the skies 
 Bright and azure as the eyes 
 That shall never beam again, 
 Grief impassion d turns my brain ! 
 Are those gems of starry light 
 Quench d in an eternal night ? 
 
 Flow r ers that blush around her tomb, 
 She is faded, can ye bloom ? 
 Since the sweetest flower has fled 
 In the grave to hide its head, 
 Never more to bloom again, 
 Why in mockery remain ? 
 
 Darkness, come ! I bid thee hail ! 
 Wrap me in thy cloudy veil, 
 That mine eye may nothing meet 
 Which is bright, or fair, or sweet, 
 .Lest its beauties seem to scorn 
 Her whom they no more adorn* 
 
 Though her love repaid me not 
 Mine can never be forgot ! 
 W r ould she might again arise, 
 With the lightnings in her eyes 
 
( 164 ) 
 
 Which were oft in anger cast 
 
 On the love they could not blast ; 
 
 With the lips, (which reptiles kiss !) 
 Wreath d, though but in bitterness, 
 Beautiful as when in pride 
 They mine every hope denied ; 
 And with brow again as fair, 
 But again a frown to wear 
 
 Nay, do I the pangs forget 
 From her with ring frown I met ? 
 Shall I brave the curse once more* 
 Which I ill could bear before ? 
 Would she liv d, but not for me, 
 Her I never more would see. 
 
 Bid me not to turn mine eyes 
 From her grave to yonder skies ; 
 Stern would be my welcome, even 
 Should we meet in yonder heaven ! 
 There I d writhe beneath her frown,- 
 Here unreck d I lay me down." 
 
163 
 
 LOVE : AN APOLOGY. 
 
 THERE is a flame, (but not the flame 
 Of love, though it usurps the name,) 
 Which kindles oft at beauty s eyes, 
 And even as it kindles dies ; 
 It is not love, though love it seems, 
 And even he who feels it dreams 
 That love indeed his heart inspires ; 
 Love kindles not such fickle fires. 
 
 That flame, it cannot be denied, 
 
 Within me oft has glow d and died ; 
 
 My heart its changing sway obey d, 
 
 And wander d still from maid to maid ; 
 
 And each whose spell was on me cast 
 
 Appear cl more lovely than the last ; 
 
 And none 1 woo d but I believ d 
 
 I lov d her ; she perhaps receiv d 
 
 The thought then mine, which soon I knew > 
 
 And she as soon perceiv d, untrue. 
 
 I ve thought of one by day and night ; 
 Mine only heav n was in her sight ; 
 And rather than be doom d to stay 
 One moment s space from her away 
 
( 166 ) 
 
 I would the direst torture bear; 
 Her name I blest in ev ry prayer, 
 And to that name I bade aspire 
 The proudest accents of my lyre ; 
 No vision fancy could create 
 Of bliss for my hereafter fate, 
 But imag d her, with smile serene, 
 Brightening still the brightest scene. 
 I clung to her for years and years, 
 Alike unchang d in smiles and tears ; 
 And was it love ? You think it so. 
 But was it love indeed ? Ah no ! 
 
 1 found her worthless, from my heart 
 I bade her image then depart ; 
 Had love been in that heart, it sure 
 Had broken, ere it could endure 
 That image to renounce, despite 
 Her worthlessness. There is no blight 
 Which change of fortune, loss of fame, 
 Or stain of guilt, can ever claim 
 A power to throw on the control 
 Of love, that once has fir d the soul. 
 
 Then blame me not, ungentle maid, 
 Nor with inconstancy upbraid, 
 Nor say I oft have Love forgot, 
 How could I, when I knew him not ? 
 
( 167 ) 
 
 But in my heart thou now canst read 
 That Love has enter d there indeed ; 
 And it were sacrilege to say 
 That Love can ever fly away 
 From any hearts that him receive ; 
 My first, my last belov d, believe 
 He in my heart shall reign for thee 
 Through time and through eternity! 
 
 ADDRESS, 
 
 WTUTTEN FOR THE OPENING OF THE NEW- YORK 
 THEATRE. 
 
 IN life s career whatever path we tread, 
 The thorns of Grief, or Pleasure s flowery bed. 
 If dark or bright the scene before our eyes, 
 To others still the mind impatient flies. 
 Bidding our world s realities farewell 
 For dreams created by the Poet s spell. 
 
 Where should she turn but where, upon the wing 
 Of Fancy, visionary beings spring ; 
 Where years departed, bursting the control 
 Of Time, upon our gaze returning roll : 
 
( 168 ) 
 
 Where heroes, taught by Death alone to yield, 
 Recal d from Death again alarm the field, 
 Returning all their grandeur to our eyes, 
 Their proud renown, and deeds of high emprize ; 
 Where Desolation shakes her flaming brand ; 
 Where Carnage clogs in gore his weapon d hand ; 
 Where War unveils his terrors, to o er whelm 
 In cataracts of blood a struggling realm ; 
 Where mad Ambition s step triumphant climbs 
 Upon the necks of those who brave his crimes, 
 Till from his tow ring height by Vengeance hurl d, 
 Amid the shouts of an acclaiming world ; 
 Or where the gentler passions are pourtray d 
 In Love s Romance, or Beauty s Faith display d. 
 
 Oh thou, the mighty wizard of the heart, 
 Who bidst at will our ev ry passion start, 
 Immortal Shakspeare ! to thy muse divine 
 We raise and consecrate another shrine! 
 Oh be not vain the effort to display 
 The passions breath d in thine inspiring lay ; 
 The tyrant fiend, who with indignant ire 
 Thrills every bosom known to generous fire ; 
 The struggles of a great and guilty mind, 
 To dark ambition and remorse consign d ; 
 The majesty of terror thou hast thrown 
 On beings call d by thee from worlds unknown ; 
 
( 169 ) 
 
 The phantoms of the slaughter d that arise 
 
 In horror to enchain the guilty eyes ; 
 
 The shudd ring son who meets the awful shade 
 
 Of him a brother s hand in death had laid ; 
 
 The child-ckang^d father, from his offspring driven, 
 
 His brain on fire, his heart with anguish riven ; 
 
 The filial duty of his injur d child ; 
 
 The jealous madness of Suspicion wild 5 
 
 The agony of the repentant Moor, 
 
 As lies his murderd bride his gaze before 
 
 These if the stage can like thy muse unfold, 
 
 None here but in thy sway must be control d. 
 
 Nor yet the tragic muse shall reign alone ; 
 The mirthful spirit shall divide the throne, 
 Shall bid the tear in Beauty s starry eye 
 Trembling upon her glitt ring pinions fly; 
 Shall ride within her dimpled car of roses 
 Where Love his laughing Paradise discloses ; 
 Around her heart shall throw a flow ry chain, 
 And wreath her lips in smiles twere heav n to gain. 
 
 And not alone the lover seeks to w r ear 
 Of Beauty s smile the trophy, we would share 
 Her smile approving, which alone can bless 
 Our efforts, and complete them with success : 
 
( 170 ) 
 
 Should Beauty smile, who then that would 
 
 presume 
 
 To cloud our rising sun with frowning gloom ? 
 Since all are sway d by you, to you ye fair, 
 Our infant stage is turn d for fost ring care, 
 And if ye be not lovelier than kind 
 It claims no more than it must hope to find. 
 
 SHE LOVES ME. 
 
 SHE loves she loves me ! spare thy warning- 
 
 Say not I oft have been deceiv d, 
 And found at last the flatterer s scorning 
 
 For hopes too long, too well believ d. 
 She loves me! And she loves me dearly! 
 
 Her heart has breath d the language sweet! 
 She loves me! And she loves sincerely 
 
 For she Oh can she know deceit ? 
 
 She is too young for a deceiver 
 Too skilless in this world of lies ; 
 
 And shall that world at last bereave her 
 Of all that in her now 1 prize ? 
 
 Compel her artless love to vanish 
 For levity s unfeeling mask 
 
And teach her, truth for forms to banish ? 
 Accurst be Ihe unholy task ! 
 
 Oh ! if the world can ever change thee 
 
 Pervert thy truth thine ardour chill, 
 And from thy once belov d estrange thee 
 
 My heart will break indeed it will! 
 But not a moment will I cherish 
 
 Such cruel thought, unjust to thee ; 
 Oh ! can a love so guileless perish ? 
 
 Ah no! Ah no! It cannot be! 
 
 My memory shall mark as holy 
 
 The dear, dear moment that I prest 
 My lips to thine ; for then was solely 
 
 Thine own, my glowing heart confest ; 
 Thine, my belov d, and thine forever ! 
 
 Hereafter shouldst thou me forsake 
 Could I recal my heart ? Oh never ! 
 
 It could not change but it would break! 
 
 If of inconstancy the finger 
 
 Profaning, never touch thy mind, 
 Though I for years and years must linger 
 
 Before my hopes completion find, 
 I can be patient. but the token 
 
 Shouldst thou recal, thy love once gave, 
 Mine only tie of life thus broken, 
 
 I d rush to frenzy or the grave ! 
 
THINK OF ME. 
 
 WHEN floods of light upon thee break, 
 From heav n, a heav n of earth to make. 
 And one thou needest to partake 
 
 The splendor on thee stealing ; 
 Or when each ray of splendor dies, 
 And scowl upon thee gloomy skies, 
 And one thou need st to sympathize 
 
 With desolated feeling ; 
 Or when thou look st around mankind. 
 Nor one among them all canst find 
 Who has with thine a kindred mind, 
 
 When earth to thee is drearest ; 
 When all deny affection s balm 
 The fever of thy soul to calm, 
 Oh ! then remember where I am ! 
 
 Oh ! think upon me, dearest ! 
 
 But sure it cannot be decreed 
 Protection thou shouldst ever need, 
 Or sympathy ; thy virtues plead 
 
 So well for thee with heaven, 
 Its blessings only will descend, 
 And earth no less will thee befriend, 
 Ah ! that I might as well depend, 
 
 Upon the hope, that given 
 
To me a thought of thine can be, 
 While all around thee worship thee 1 
 But if thou him shouldst wish to see 
 
 Whose ardour is sincerest ; 
 Whose ev ry fondest thought is thine, 
 Whose heart is bleeding at thy shrine, 
 Who life would for thy sake resign. 
 
 Oh ! think upon me. dearest ! 
 
 THE MAID OF THE STORM, 
 
 O! SAY for whom by yonder tomb 
 
 Alone, that maiden weeps } 
 Belov d most dear, her lover here 
 
 On wormy pillow sleeps! 
 Beside his stone she kneels alone. 
 
 And breathes an ardent prayer, 
 Her eyes upraising, on heaven gazing. 
 
 That death may find her there. 
 
 It was the hour that beauty s power 
 
 Is wont to reign supreme. 
 Yet she, the queen of heav n. serene r 
 
 Imparted not a beam ; 
 p 2 
 
( 174 ) 
 
 Her train around in darkness drown d 
 Turn d not their beauty down, 
 
 For earth and heaven upon that even 
 Appear d at once to frown. 
 
 The stormy king his flaming wing 
 
 Was flapping in the sky, 
 Whose awful glare no man could bear 
 
 Without a shudd ring eye ; 
 Then how could she undaunted be 
 
 Amid the lightning dread, 
 Which on her gaze in fearful blaze 
 
 Incessant flash d and fled ? 
 
 That maiden s eye upon the sky 
 
 No terrors could behold ; 
 Nor heeded she from heav n to see 
 
 The lightning s torrent roll d ; 
 The bursting cloud in thunder loud 
 
 Unmark d her ear addrest ; 
 One thought around her senses wound. 
 
 And banish d all the rest. 
 
 " Not now we part!" with sudden start 
 
 That maiden wildly cried, 
 To one who near she thought appear, 
 
 " Oh welcome! take thy bride!" 
 In fond belief of credulous grief, 
 
 Unless it so may be 
 
( 175 ) 
 
 That faithful maid her lover s shade. 
 Upon his grave, might see. 
 
 As at the sight with wild delight 
 
 She forth to clasp him sprung, 
 An icy chill with sudden thrill 
 
 On all her limbs was flung ; 
 And from her view the form withdrew, 
 
 Receding slow within 
 His lowly grave, with beck ning wave, 
 
 As there his bride to win. 
 
 As sunk that form wild rag d the storm ; 
 
 The whirlwind in its ire 
 Swept to the ground the tombs around; 
 
 The lightnings wrapt in fire 
 Each bending tree, whose canopy 
 
 Was wont a shade to throw ; 
 With fearful sound at once the ground 
 
 Shook burst and sunk below ! 
 
 The maiden sunk, nor even shrunk 
 
 As on the bier she fell, 
 Whose bursting lid no longer hid 
 
 The form she lov d so well ! 
 The corpse beside that faithful bride 
 
 All fearlessly reclin d ! 
 Prov d her last breath the love in death 
 
 Which few in life can find ! 
 
( 176 ) 
 
 The morrow came, and those whose name 
 
 And those whose hearts she bore, 
 Rov d far and near, with hope and fear. 
 
 That maiden to explore ; 
 They found the maid all lifeless laid 
 
 Upon her lover s breast ; 
 In bridal kiss her lips to his 
 
 Cold withering cheek, were prest! 
 
 Though none but dread their grave to tread 
 
 When light recedes away, 
 There is not aught to claim a thought 
 
 Of fear, by night or day ; 
 By day or night no mortal might 
 
 Again behold that form, 
 For calm his rest since he possest 
 
 The Maiden of the Storm! 
 
 THE SUN OF BEAUTY. 
 
 YE stars which seem the bended eyes 
 Of the bright maids of paradise, 
 Whose glances steal at hour of even 
 Through the blue canopy of heaven ! 
 
( 177 ) 
 
 The earth on which your light is streaming 
 Has eyes with equal splendor beaming, 
 Where yonder blooming virgin band 
 Are lightly tripping hand in hand, 
 And now recede, and now advance, 
 In all the mazes of the dance, 
 Around their queen, as fair and bright 
 As yours, the regent of the night! 
 
 But when aside Apollo flings 
 The shroud that now around him clings. 
 Tosses on high his dazzling hair, 
 And breathes into the burning air, 
 You shrink obscur d, but we forget, 
 In his, your splendor to regret. 
 
 And thus when Beauty s Sun, her soul, 
 
 Shall in its car angelic roll 
 
 From earth to heav n Oh could its blaze 
 
 Be given to our mortal gaze, 
 
 We should not weep, thus broken-hearted, 
 
 That from her eyes the stars departed ! 
 
( 178 ) 
 MONODY ON 
 
 MARY JANETTE ASTEN, 
 
 OH ! say not that her fair blue eyes 
 
 Are clos d in death forever! 
 They now are beaming in the skies, 
 
 Where night shall shroud them never ! 
 JNTor say that from her cherub face 
 
 Corruption sweeps the roses, 
 While in the dark and chill embrace 
 
 Of death, her form reposes ! 
 
 IVor say around her marble brow 
 
 That reptiles -are entwining; 
 For there, in light eternal, now 
 
 A seraph s wreath is shining ! 
 Your Mary to the wormy grave 
 
 Her beauty has not given ; 
 The charms which to your eye she gave 
 
 Have fled but where ? to heaven ! 
 
 It was not Mary to the tomb 
 You bore, with bosom bleeding ; 
 
 It is not upon Mary s bloom 
 The worm of death is feeding ; 
 
( 179 ) 
 
 In her disguise deceived your eye 
 The clay that once enshrin d her: 
 
 You only saw before you lie 
 The robe she left behind her! 
 
 Xor say that she no more is near 
 
 With eyes of fondness, over 
 The parents, who bewail her here, 
 
 Her angel pinions hover ! 
 And from the lips, that when below 
 
 So oft were your s caressing, 
 Although unheard, her accents flow, 
 
 Her weeping parents blessing ! 
 
 You know her blest and yet you weep 
 
 But who, the tears of feeling 
 Which from the parents eyes, to steep 
 
 The child belov d, are stealing, 
 Wish reason calmly would restrain, 
 
 His words unreck d were spoken ; 
 For reason s coldness pleads in vain 
 
 To hearts with anguish broken. 
 
 But there shall come a time at last 
 
 To heal the broken-hearted, 
 To banish all the anguish past 
 
 You felt since she departed, 
 
( 180 ) 
 
 When you reclasp her to your heart 
 In worlds were none shall sever, 
 
 Where death can never bid you part 
 Again Oh never! never! 
 
 MONODY ON 
 
 ABRAHAM W. RICH, 
 
 A n interesting Child, who during his illness ex 
 pressed an unwillingness to recover. 
 
 THE happiest hours that mortals know 
 
 Attend on childhood s guiltless day, 
 And yet, alas ! how oft to woe 
 
 Must even childhood be a prey! 
 How oft, when scarce his life has sprung 
 
 Emerging from its infancy, 
 May man exclaim, with anguish wrung, 
 
 " This world is not a world for me!" 
 
 " This world is not a world for me!" 
 Such was thy thought, thou angel boy, 
 
When death was bending over thee, 
 Thy young existence to destroy! 
 
 Of life though but the brightest side 
 Alone, thine infant gaze could see, 
 
 To all its charms thy heart replied, 
 " This world is not a world forme!" 
 
 Thou hadst no will to stay below, 
 
 Thou hadst no will to shun the grave, 
 And yet but little didst thou know, 
 
 The ills from which the tomb can save! 
 Oh ! hadst thou seen their dark array, 
 
 Thou hadst exclaim d, on bended knee, 
 " Oh take me from the world away ! 
 
 This world is not a world for me !" 
 
 Then thou whose lonely eyes are turn d 
 
 Where late they saw thy darling lie 
 In fever s fierce embraces burn d, 
 
 Oh ! listen to him from the sky ! 
 Dost thou not hear his cherub voice, 
 
 Its accents warbling thus to thee, 
 " Oh weep not, mother, but rejoice ! 
 
 Thy world was not a world for me!" 
 
( 182 ) 
 
 MONODY ON L. T. GUEST, 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BOY. 
 
 How fondly the parents behold their dear boy. 
 As he gambols before them in innocent joy! 
 How thrills to their heart the glad lightning that 
 
 flies, 
 On the wings of delight, from their cherub s young 
 
 eyes, 
 
 As fair as the sky, when the sun s* brightest ray 
 Has chas d the pale cloud from its beauty away ! 
 While his clustering hair now conceals, now 
 
 discloses 
 His seraphic cheeks, its soft pillow of roses! 
 
 But ah ! with what anguish their bosom is wrung, 
 Above the pale corpse of their darling when hung! 
 Oh none but a parent can feel, or can tell 
 Within them what heart-breaking agonies swell, 
 As they kiss the cold eyes animation once 
 
 brighten d, 
 
 But never Oh never! again shall be lighten d! 
 And the cheek now as pale as the shroud that at 
 
 even 
 Is flung o er the vanishing splendor of heaven. 
 
( 183 ) 
 
 The grave is the bed of his beauty. The light 
 Of his eyes, is extinguished in death s dreary night \ 
 But the light of the soul, which once sparkled 
 
 within, 
 
 Unclouded by sorrow, undarken d by sin, 
 That light is not quench d ! It is flaming above 
 On the altar of innocence, beauty and love ! 
 And bending, his parents to soothe from despair, 
 He turns them to heaven and beckons them there ! 
 
 MY LUTE. AND I HAVE DONE. 
 
 PARAPHRASED FROM WYATT. 
 
 AWAKE, my lute! Let now our last 
 Adieu to love and her be cast, 
 
 The end of all \ve have begun ; 
 And when this parting lay is past, 
 
 Be still my lute, for I have done! 
 
 Though sooner voice can reach the dead. 
 Or marble be engrav d with lead, 
 
 Than by our lay her heart be won, 
 Shall sigh be breath d or word be said ? 
 
 No, no, my lute, for I have done ! 
 
( 184 ) 
 
 The cruelty of rocks is less, 
 
 When they the girdling waves repress, 
 
 Than she has thrown my suit upon ; 
 Whereby I am beyond redress, 
 
 And thus my lute and I have done ! 
 
 Though proud thy triumph in the smart 
 Of ev ry fond neglected heart, 
 
 Which love to thy control has won, 
 Think not for thine remains no dart, 
 
 Although rny lute and I have done ! 
 
 Revenge shall meet thee for the scorn 
 That love sincere from thee has borne ; 
 
 Think not alone, beneath the sun, 
 To triumph while poor lovers mourn, 
 
 Although my lute and I have done ! 
 
 When fade thy charms by with ring age 
 Thou shalt bewail, in winter s rage, 
 
 Except the cold moon heard by none ; 
 Then thoughts like mine shall thee engage, 
 
 But care who list, for I have done ! 
 
 Thy coyness thou shalt well repent, 
 And all the time so idly spent 
 
 Thy lovers in distress to run ; 
 Then shalt thou know thy charms but lent. 
 
 And sigh for love, as I have done ! 
 
Now cease, my lute, for no\v our last 
 Adieu to love and her is cast, 
 
 And all is ended erst begun : 
 Since now the parting lay is past 
 
 Be still m lute, for I have done! 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 FAREWELL! farewell! the fervent prayer 
 
 Affection breathes, shall still attend thee 
 That happiness may meet thee, where 
 
 Thy future destiny shall send thee ; 
 That cherub Health may there be found, 
 
 Her blessings on her pinions bringing. 
 And smiling hover thee around, 
 
 Upon thy head those blessings flinging. 
 
 United in affection s sway 
 
 When stranger-hearts to thee are given. 
 Forget not those who far away 
 
 Regret that from them thou art riven : 
 \Vhen treading on a foreign shore, 
 
 Tho friends as dear, as fond. may greet thee. 
 Forget not those who sigh, once more 
 
 In health and happiness to meet thee. 
 Q2 
 
186 ) 
 
 And must thou then far distant dwell ? 
 
 My kindest thoughts attend thee thither! 
 Our eyes must bid a long farewell, 
 
 But memory shall waft thee hither! 
 And when thy thoughts are backward flung 
 
 Of scenes departed to remind thee, 
 Wilt thou not think of me, among 
 
 The friends whom thou hast left behind thee 
 
 FAREWELL TO E K- 
 
 How oft shall memory s glance be cast 
 To the lovely eve when I met thee last! 
 No star was seen in the silver sky, 
 And the moon was hid from mortal eye, 
 And the sun had gone to his briny bed, 
 Yet a beautiful light upon earth was shed, 
 For the gloam of eve had a soften d ray 
 Reflected from the departing day ; 
 And I said in my heart, as I mark d how tender 
 A light had succeeded the vanish d splendor, 
 li May a beam as soft as calm and as sweet, 
 Illumine thy heart till again we meet!" 
 
( 137 
 
 Each moment fled on too swift a wing 
 The fated moment of parting to bring, 
 And I felt that there is no pang above 
 The pang inflicted on Parting Love ! 
 
 As my fingers twin-d in thy locks of gold 
 Adown thy neck of ivory roll cl, 
 And I saw thy blue eyes, fix d on mine, 
 In soft and artless tenderness shine, 
 And I prest in mine thy dear, dear hand, 
 My feelings I could not well command, 
 But I turn d my head to hide the tear 
 At the thought of parting with one so dear. 
 
 But I was sooth d by the welcome word 
 That our last farewell should be defer d, 
 And we should meet again on the morrow, 
 Yet it must be a meeting of sorrow, 
 For we meet to part! But why complain ? 
 Since we only part to meet again 
 To meet again in an hour of joy, 
 Which no dread of parting shall alloy. 
 
 But dearest, before thou leav st me spare 
 One tress of thy beautiful auburn hair, 
 Which often, while thou must distant be. 
 My lips may press as if it were thee ! 
 
( 188 ) 
 
 And the prayer I day and night shall breathe, 
 That upon the dear head, where that auburn 
 
 wreath 
 
 Once danc d, may descend misfortune never, 
 But blessings rain forever and forever. 
 
 Farewell to thee, dearest! but with thee bear 
 A heart that will love thee every-where! 
 Farewell to thee, dearest! do not regret me, 
 But if my memory pain thee, forget me! 
 Farewell, since fate must our parting compel! 
 Farewell to thee, dearest ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 THE REGRET. 
 
 WOULD that we had met before 
 Thou hadst to another spoken 
 
 What can be recal d no more, 
 Nor, except by death, be broken! 
 
 Would that 1 had met thee, ere 
 Thou hadst to another given 
 
 All I love or value here, 
 
 All on earth I dream d of heaven! 
 
( 189 ) 
 
 When of other maids I sung, 
 
 \Vrapt in fond imagination, 
 Charms that were not theirs I flung 
 
 O er them, in a dream s creation. 
 
 Eyes of heaven s deepest blue, 
 
 Undulating raven tresses, 
 Cheeks that shame the rose s hue, 
 
 Lips that love soft-breathing presses ; 
 
 Those in others I may find 
 Lovely as they cluster o er thee. 
 
 But the beauties of thy mind 
 
 Bade me more than those adore thee. 
 
 Once, but once, a mind I met 
 
 All in all thine own resembling, 
 But it in a form was set 
 
 Where no outward charms were trembling. 
 
 All who erst my heart could win 
 
 Soon its ardour found declining, 
 Till 1 found without within 
 
 All their charms in thee combining ! 
 
 Then indeed the* dream display d 
 Truth that all its raptures smothers, 
 
 For I found my visioivd maid 
 Liv d indeed but liv d another s ! 
 
( 190 ) 
 
 But farewell ! I d not prevail 
 On thy plighted heart to waver ; 
 
 Could its truth a moment fail, 
 Mine would scorn the worthless favour. 
 
 THE LONELY HEART. 
 
 I HAD a father he is dead ! 
 
 A mother she no more is mine ! 
 A sister on her grave I tread ! 
 
 And brothers they in death recline !- 
 I had a friend he rent the tie ! 
 
 I had a lov d one ruthless fate ! 
 Where is she now ? And what am I? 
 
 Oh God! This heart is desolate ^ 
 
 TO A LITTLE BOY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 
 
 ALAS, no more a mother s tongue 
 Shall bless her darling boy in thee! 
 
 Those little arms, which round her clung, 
 When thou hast prattled on her knee, 
 
Those arms no more shall her embrace. 
 No more thy pillow be her breast , 
 
 Thine eyes no more shall greet her face, 
 Thy lips no more to her s be prest. 
 
 Though here she never shall be found. 
 
 From thee her spirit has not fled ; 
 But still she hovers thee around 
 
 To shower her blessings on thy head : 
 Yes, bending from the world of bliss, 
 
 Where now her home eternal lies. 
 Upon her darling boy, in this, 
 
 She turns her bright immortal eyes- 
 
 Oh may the God who call d her there. 
 
 The Father of the Fatherless, 
 His Holy Spirit s guardian care 
 
 To thee impart, to guide and bless ; 
 To lead thee to the realms above. 
 
 Where now her arms are open thrown, 
 To clasp thee in that world of Love. 
 
 Where parting shall no more be known. 
 
( 192 ) 
 WRITTEN UNDER A 
 
 BOUQUET IN AN ALBUM, 
 
 THOUGH Lady thou, with glance admiring. 
 
 Have met the violet s eyes of blue, 
 The lilly s virgin breast retiring 
 
 In bashful sweetness from the view, 
 The rose, like beauty in its pride, 
 
 Which blushes as it courts thine eyes. 
 And every lovely flower beside 
 
 That blooms in Flora s Paradise ; 
 One flower I know can all excel 
 
 That bloom around us or above ; 
 Oh lady, need thy Minstrel tell 
 
 That flower is named the Flower of Love ! 
 
 THE HOUR OF EVEN. 
 
 As at the lovely Hour of Even, 
 I gaze upon yon spangled heaven, 
 Which in its azure veil array d, 
 Reminds me of my Blue-ey d Maid, 
 
( 193 ) 
 
 Wilt Thou, enthron d in glory there. 
 The cause of all that s bright and fair. 
 Wilt Thou not from thy holy sphere 
 The prayer 1 breathe to bless her hear, 
 That her unsullied heart may be 
 Resigned to God to Love to me, 
 And when by death from shrines of clay 
 Our spirits shall be wing d away, 
 We may. to part no more, unite 
 In worlds of bliss, of love, and light! 
 
 THE ADIEU. 
 
 FAREWELL, farewell, my blue-ey d maid! 
 
 Those words I thought to utter never. 
 Till death s cold hand were on me laid 
 
 To tear me from thy sight forever : 
 But deadened to affection s sway 
 
 Thy bosom proves ; then let the fire, 
 Whose ardour thou couldst ill repay. 
 
 With all my dearest hopes, expire! 
 
 We part but must we part unkindly? 
 I thought not once this e er might be. 
 
( 194 ) 
 
 When, yielding to my passion blindly, 
 1 turn d mine every hope to thee : 
 
 I thought that from a guileless heart 
 The fond, the dear, confession came, 
 
 That should we but a moment part, 
 
 Thy pangs and mine would be the same. 
 
 I once was welcom d by the eyes 
 
 Whose angry lightnings blast me now, 
 And smiling calm as ev ning skies, 
 
 I once beheld that darkened brow : 
 Why art thou chang d? or is it true, 
 
 Affection was to thee unknown, 
 E en when those starry eyes of blue 
 
 Their thrilling smile have on me thrown/ 
 
 Farewell, and never may thy heart, 
 
 My blue-ey d maid, as well regret 
 The hour that we forever part, 
 
 As mine the hour we ever met ! 
 With an internal prayer that thou 
 
 May see no hope in ruin laid, 
 My last adieu I leave thee now; 
 
 Farewell, farewell, my blue-ey d maid ! 
 
THE RECAL. 
 
 FORGIVE the wild ungovern d burst 
 
 Of frantic love, so ill requited, 
 That rav d its hopes too fondly nurst 
 
 For years, and in a moment blighted! 
 rs ot from my heart the accents fell 
 
 Which flung a stern adieu forever ; 
 Tiiis heart could never bid farewell, 
 
 My blue-ey d rnaid. Oh never, never! 
 
 1 met thee with a sullen cloud 
 
 It fled before a ray of kindness ; 
 And I forgot mine anger proud, 
 
 Enslav d again in passion s blindness ; 
 Though love may linger far away, 
 
 An exile from thy heart forever, 
 Can mine rebel against his sway? 
 
 .My blue-ey d maid, Oh never, never! 
 
 TO JULIET. 
 
 MY darling girl, if soon forever 
 From" one another we must sever,. 
 Though thou perhaps will not regret me. 
 Cut in the parting hour forget me. 
 
( 196 ) 
 
 Go where thou wilt, to memory s eye 
 Thine image shall be ever nigh. 
 
 If fortune s smile, or glory s ray, 
 Upon my lot hereafter play, 
 My prayer shall rise that thou may be 
 As blest, if not more blest than me. 
 But if my future path I find 
 As dark as 1 have left behind, 
 Thy Minstrel Boy shall breathe a prayeiv 
 That thou his lot may never share. 
 
 Though sorrow s rod be on me laid, 
 Though clouds my dark existence shade, 
 May angels hover near, from ill 
 To guard their sister angel still. 
 
 And if indeed thou wouldst be blest,. 
 Be virtue still thy bosom s guest ; 
 Let virtue s charms adorn thy heart, 
 And bright and lovely as thou art, 
 The sparkling soft cerulean eyes, 
 Like stars amid the azure skies ; 
 The ringlets, wreathing in their brightness 
 Around a brow of marble whiteness; 
 And all thy loveliness combin d, 
 Will be more lovely for thy mind. 
 
( 197 ) 
 WRITTEN ON THE NEW-YORK INSTITUTION FOR THE 
 
 DEAF AND DUMB. 
 
 OF ignorance the former victims, here 
 Rise to a nobler and a happier sphere ; 
 The blessings their unhappy lot denied 
 Again by education are supplied ; 
 To burst the clouds that wrap the mind in night : 
 To gaze on Science in her shrine of light; 
 When friends belov d in social converse meet, 
 To interchange with them communion sweet; 
 \V ith warm affection s eloquence to tell 
 What fond emotions in the bosom swell ; 
 These blessings they have found, nor these alone ; 
 They know the most sublime that can be known 
 They know a God! to Him their steps are led 
 The path of everlasting joy to tread : 
 Their knees are taught to bow His throne before ; 
 Their hearts a Friend and Father to adore. 
 
 Before her God, upon her bended knee, 
 In fervent prayer the cherub infant see ; 
 Her raven hair in tremulous wreaths entwining. 
 Upon her cheek s carnation bed reclining ; 
 
While she might seem to the enthusiasms eyes 
 Descended in her beauty from the skies! 
 Her lips are mute, but from her heart a prayer 
 Ascends to heav n, is heard and answer d there ; 
 And vvouldst thou know what from that heart 
 
 proceeds ? 
 
 For those who led her to a God she pleads, 
 That all the blessings they to her have given 
 May be on earth repaid them, and in heaven, 
 
 THE MUSIC OF BEAUTY. 
 
 To me thy lips are mute, but when I gaze 
 Upon thee in thy perfect loveliness, 
 No trait that should not be, no lineament 
 To jar with the exquisite harmony 
 Of Beauty s music, breathing to the eyes, 
 1 pity those who think they pity me ; 
 Who drink the tide that gushes from thy lips 
 Unconscious of its sweets, as if they were 
 E en as I am and turn their marble eyes 
 Upon thy loveliness, without the thrill 
 That maddens me with joys s delirium. 
 
( 199 ) 
 
 THE SWISS SHEPHERD S SONG, 
 
 FROM THE FRESCH. 
 
 WHEN shall the day return for me 
 Each object of my love to see I 
 Our crystal rills, 
 Our little hills, 
 With rapture s thrills 
 When shall I view ? 
 Our hamlets, and our mountains too ? 
 On her who ornaments them gaze, 
 Sweet Isabelle? Or tread the maze 
 Of dance, where yews repel the sunny blaze ? 
 
 When shall the day return for me 
 Each object of my love to see ? 
 
 My father meet, 
 
 My mother greet, 
 
 My sister sweet, 
 And brother dear ? 
 
 My flocks, my sheep. 
 
 When shall I keep, 
 With shepherd- maiden near ? 
 
( 200 ) 
 
 EULOGY EXTRAORDINARY, 
 
 THOUGH she is fair, not her s the dazzling blaze 
 Which bids us kneel adoring as we gaze-; 
 Within her veins no lordly crimson flows, 
 And fortune at her feet no treasure throws ; 
 No sparkling wit illuminates her mind, 
 And few the gems of science there enshrin d ; 
 Yet her s a charm that every charm supplies, 
 That bids me love her, bids me idolize 
 As she were a descended Cherubim, 
 She loves her God, and loves me next to Him! 
 
 EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 As now you hail the hour of bliss, 
 Be all your future hours like this! 
 Nor shall that prayer be breath d in vain 
 While love as now your hearts retain; 
 Nor ill shall frown upon you, while 
 The eyes of love to bless you smile ; 
 
( 201 ) 
 
 Nor anguish near her terrors bring 
 \\ hile you to one another cling : 
 But every bliss, in bright array, 
 Around you shall forever play, 
 Which now is with its pinion airy 
 Fanning thee and thy Angel Mary. 
 
 Thy angel! Yes! she well may claim 
 Though mortal an immortal s name. 
 For ail the charms to her belong 
 That poets sketch in fancy s song, 
 Or lovers, with delusion s eyes 
 Create themselves to idolize. 
 The angels, as to gaze they bend, 
 A sister s name to her may lend, 
 And echo to the prayer we breathe. 
 That every blessing may a wreath 
 Entwine, whose bloom shall never vary, 
 For thee and for thy Angel Mary. 
 
 And see, within that wreath to blaze, 
 
 Love, Beauty. Youth. combine their rays : 
 
 \\ hile Friendship s hand another flower 
 
 Would add to the ambrosial shower ; 
 
 And Friendship s eyes another beam 
 
 Upon the tide of light and stream, 
 
 Whose halo on the nuptial brow 
 
 Salutes their gaze enrapturd now : 
 
( 20-2 ) 
 
 But earth can give no added bliss, 
 Then Friendship asks alone, that this 
 May never for a moment vary 
 From thee or from thy Angel Mary. 
 
 GOOD NIGHT. 
 
 MAY slumber kiss thy dear lids lightly. 
 May fancy sketch thy visions brightly, 
 Good angels guard thy couch from sorrow* 
 Vnd pleasure welcome thee to-morrow. 
 
 MNIS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 The Legend of the Rocks, .... 
 A Father s Name : A Monody, 
 
 The Orphan s Dream. 
 
 The Minstrel Boy, 
 
 The Gallant Highland Rover, 
 
 The Grave of Mary, 
 
 Written on seeing the Grare of Mary, - 
 
 The Blue-Ey d Maid, 
 
 Monody on*E. F. iN ack, .... 
 
 The Fair Maniac. 
 
 The Dream of Bliss, 
 
 Scorn Requited, 
 
 Mary Dearest, 
 
 The*Billet-dous, 
 
 Martial Ode, 
 
 Monody on C. F. Kartell, .... 
 Lines occasioned by a Brother s Monody, 
 
 To Evelina F tt. 
 
 My Darline Little Mary, 
 
 To Amelia K g, * 
 
 Life and Death, - 
 
 The Prayer of Purity, 
 
 Thou art gone before me, - 
 Our Love shall bloom in Heaven, - 
 
 The Bridal Day. 
 
 To Julia Maria S , - 
 
 Ode for the New Year, 
 
 Ossian s Address to the Sun, 
 
 Horace, lib. 1st. Ode 5th, 140 
 
 I Loved thee ever Dearly, - 
 
 The ever blooming Flower, .... 142 
 
 To Elizabeth. 
 
 One kiss before we part, 
 
 j arewell to Emma, 
 
 Fair Adelaide/ 
 
 Inconstancy, ------- 
 
 My Childhood. ..-- -- 151 
 
 Come to mv Home, - 
 
 The Charms of Woman, .... 154 
 
 The Sun of our Lot, 1-57 
 
204 
 
 Page. 
 
 The Shore of Heaven, - .... 158 
 
 Deluded 1 ove, ...... 160 
 
 The Nightly Mourner, ..... 162 
 
 Love: An Apology, ..... 165 
 
 Address for the New-York Theatre, - - 167 
 
 She Loves me, - - - - - - 170 
 
 Think of me, ...... 172 
 
 Maid of the Storm, ..... 173 
 
 Sun of Beauty, ...... 1 76 
 
 Monody on Mary J Asten, - - - - 178 
 
 Monody on A. W Rich, .... 180 
 
 My Lute and I have done, - - - - 183 
 
 Farewell, ....... 185 
 
 Fare well to E - K - , - - - - 186 
 
 The Regret, ....... 187 
 
 The Lonely Heart, ..... 190 
 
 To a Little Boy on the Death of his Mother, - ib. 
 
 Written in an Album, ..... 192 
 
 The Hour of Even, ..... ib. 
 
 The Adieu, ------ 193 
 
 The Recal, - - - - - - - 195 
 
 To Juliet, ....... ib. 
 
 Written on the New-York Institution for the Deaf 
 
 and Dumb, ...... 197 
 
 The Music of Beauty, ..... 198 
 
 The Swiss Shepherd s Song, .... 199 
 
 Eulogy Extraordinary, ..... 200 
 
 Kpithalamium, ...... jb. 
 
 Good Night, ....... 202 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 11, line 1. for meteor s, read meteors . 
 " line 4, dele the marks of quotation. 
 " line 5 for thou shall, read thon shall. 
 " line last, for thou are, read t/iou art. 
 
 12, line 2J, for E en, read Even 
 
 13, line 3, for meteors, read meteors . 
 28, line 1, for shown, read shone. 
 
 " line 11, for ruffian, read ruffians-. 
 GO, last line but one, for heathens, read heathen s. 
 107, line 2, for Here, read Her. 
 139, line 8, for mountain s, read mountains . 
 
 179, line 17, for Wish, read With. 
 
 180, line 2, for were, read where. 
 
I 
 s