. WIDOW'S TALE, AND OTHER POEMS. By BERNARD BARTON, Author of" Devotional Verses," Sfc. Vide page 21. LONDON- PRINTED FOR B. J. HOLDS WORTH, 18, St. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD. 1827. Loy DON : rKKNTkl) BY i. S. UUGUES, SS, PAieRNOSTifK KUW. TO JOHN BARTON, OF STOUGHTON, NEAR CHICHESTER; .^n iWcmovial of earig liags, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY HIS BROTHER. rhou bear'st oiir Father's name ; in Thee His worth and talents live ; Canst thou need more — to claim from me The little I can give ? 5-42677 0)GtISH n' PREFATORY SONNET. The lamp will shed a feeble glimmering light, Until the oil which fed its flame be spent ; The small stars twinkle in the firmament, ^ And the moon's pallid orb arise on night, When day has waned ; — the scath'd tree, in despite Of age look green, with ivy-wreaths besprent; And faded roses still retain their scent. When death shall make them loveless to the sight. So linger on, as seeming loth to die. Light, strength, and sweetness : — thus unto the last The poet o'er his lyre's lov'd strings will cast A nerveless hand — and his fond labours ply ; Not unrewarded if its parting sigh Seem like the lingering echo of the past ! • B. B. a 3 CONTENTS. PACE. V A Wklorv's Tale 1 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Caractacus 27 Wither'd Leaves 32 Sonnet, to Nathan Drake, on the Title of his newly announced Work 3.5 Sonnet 36 A Dirge 37 Ki7ig Canute 40 Stanzas written in a blank leaf of Jane Taylor^s Memoirs, and Poetical Remains . 44 Sir Philip Sidney ; a Tale of true Chivalry . 46 Hymn 50 Vm CONTENTS. PAGE. Which Things are a Shadotv 52 On the Glory usually depicted round the Head of the Saviour 54 A Grandsire^s Tale 56 " The Morning is Breaking" 63 Sorroiv^s Love 66 A Child's Dream 68 '' In the Morning it FlonrishetJi'' .... 73 To the Passion- Flower 76 Invocation to Spring 79 To my Daughter on her Birth-day . . . . 81 A Seaside Reverie 82 Stanzas, Composed during a Tempest ... 87 To a Crocus 89 To a Primrose 02 The Dead f)6 Hymn . . . . • 100 To Felicia Hemans, on the Death of a Friend 102 To Mrs. Fitzgerald ; on her presenting the Author icith a beautiful painting by Van Balen 107 Sonnet; a Winter Night 110 Sonnet; to a Grandmotha- .111 CONTENTS. IX FACE. To a Poetical Aspirant H'- Verses, ivritten under some pen and ink Sketches, by D. Wilkie, Esq 114 Sonnet, to a nameless Friend 115 Expostulation 11 <> Written in a Scrap-book 110 Stanzas, written for a blank leaf in Seioell's History of the Qtiakers 1 21 A Prayer, for a Missionary Meeting . . . 126 Sonnet, to a Clerical Friend 12^ A71 Exhortation to Yonth 12J> Sonnet 132 To the Stars 133 Sonnet, to Major Edward Moor, of Great Bealings 134 An Invitation 13.5 Sonnet ; the Crucifixion 137 Psalm cxlviii 13H Psalm cxxxiii ' . . .141 On the Omnipresence of God 142 The Three Faithful, in the Fiery Furnace . 144 The Vale of Tears 147 Concluding Verses, to a Child Seven years old 151 A WIDOW'S TALE. For the incidents contained in the following Poem, the Author is indebted to the painful, but interesting " Account of the loss of Five Wesleyan " Missionaries, and others, in the Maria Mail- " boat, off the Island of Antigua, by Mrs. Jones, " the only survivor on that mournful occasion." LIST OF BERNARD BARTON'S WORKS. 1. DEVOTIONAL VERSES, foiuided on Select Texts of Scripture. 12mo Price Gs. 6cf. 2. MINOR POEMS. l2nio. Price 7s. Second edition. 3. POETIC VIGILS. 12mo. Price 8.v. 4. POEMS. 12mo. Price 7s. Gd. Fourth edition. A WIDOW'S TALE. 1. Reader, no story of fictitious woe, Artfully told, here asks thy tenderness ; But if thy breast with sympathy can glow For one who tells a tale of deep distress, In truth's own simple, unelaborate dress. To win thy pity mine can scarcely fail ; For few, indeed, amid the throng and press Of trials manifold which life assail. Have witness'd scenes more dread than deck my mournful tale. B A widow's tale. 2. 1 was the wife of one who left his home, His friends, and country, — all he held most dear Except myself, to breast the billows' foam, The stormy music of the blast to hear ; In foreign climes to know a stranger's cheer, And be a homeless wanderer far and wide; Content by duty's star his course to steer, So he might honour Him who for us died, And preach in distant lands his Lord, the Crucified. a Among the sunny islands of the west His field of labour open'd : could 1 stay At home in listless, self-indulgent rest. While he was braving hardships far away ? Not thus to love, to honour, and obey, Methought my word was plighted ; but where he To whom 'twas given conceiv'd his duty lay, My vow no less appointed mine to be ; Therefore I went with him a wanderer o'er the sea. A widow's tale. 4. Not mine his Gospel labours to proclaim ; May they be sanctified to those 'mid whom He strove to glorify his Saviour's name ; — My heart too keenly, feels a mourner's doom, When I reflect upon his watery tomb. To paint the varied scenes through which we pass'd ; Yet with no feelings of desponding gloom, Like her whose starless sky is all o'er-cast, Would I pourtray the one which prov'd on earth our last. 5. On earth ! alas ! we hardly could be said To part on earth, for foaming seas were round The fragment of a wreck, his dying bed ; — Fearful each sight, and terrible each sound We witness'd there ; yet in that hour we found Hope's sure and stedfast anchor to the soul ; Mortal with immortality was crown'd. And the blest spirit sought its glorious goal. Where blasts can never rave, nor angry billows roll. B 2 A widow's tale. 6. Can I, then, mourn for his lamented loss, As one who knows not faith's sustaining spell? He left his home to bear a Saviour's Cross, The tidings of redeeming love to tell, And in that hallow'd cause he meekly fell : Oh ! may I, rather, through his Master's grace, Since memory on our parting can but dwell. The grateful and consoling thought retrace With " glory !" on his lips he died in my embrace. This soothing, elevating thought bears up My spirit with the hope his meed is won ; It sweetens Sorrow's overflowing cup By the firm faith his race is safely run ; Gives strength to say, " God's holy will be done!" And in that strength, yet never known to fail, Power to retrace what memory else would shun, A scene where woman's cheek might well turn pale. Where e'en man's bolder heart might feel its cou- rage quail. A WIDOW S TALE. » 8. We went on board our ship at sunset hour. The giant deep in peaceful slumber lay ; And though, at night, the wild winds' mighty power Its curling billows rous'd to fearful play, We slept in peace : but, on the following day, The morn was stormy, and the wind a-head ; The sea broke o'er us, and the sheeted spray Which, far as eye could reach, around us spread. Gave to the darkening clouds a darkness yet more dread. 9. Not only he — whose loss ray heart must mourn, Was with me in that season of dismay ; Brethren and sisters in that bark were borne, Companions with us on our fearful way ; Brethren who went, like him, to preach and pray, And sisters, like myself, their lot to share ; Their precious babes, too, in life's opening day. Objects of many a fond parental prayer ; — Oh ! when did wave-tost bark a freight more guile- less bear ? B 3 A widow's tale. 10. For e'en our fearful hearts it somewhat lighten'd. To see those children, when the seaman's cry Of " land in sight !" their changing glances brighten 'd, Look round them with a hope-enkindled eye ; And one, a boy of thoughts and feelings high, Far, far beyond his age, began to raise, With all his young companions standing by. Exulting hymns of gratitude and praise ; Until our fears were lull'd by their delightful lays. 11. And then the child, " with sense above his years," With narrative from Scripture's holy page Beguil'd the terrors of his young compeers. By showing who could Ocean's wrath assuage. And calm the billows in their fiercest rage ; How He had rescued by his out-stretch'd arm The Prophet Jonas in an earlier age ; Or how the word of Jesus, like a charm, Once chain'd the winds and waves, and hush'd each vain alarm. A widow's tale. 7 12. Alas ! sweet boy ! but wherefore mourn thy lot, Or thy compeers' who sank beneath the wave? Oh ! who shall deem you by your God forgot, Though in life's bloom ye found a watery grave ; Though fruitless your heart-rending cries to save ! Amid the winds and waves distinctly heard; — We know but this, — that He who being gave, Resum'd the gift He had himself conferr'd. Nor dare gainsay His will by one repining word. 13. Mysterious to our reason seems your doom ; Yet not less merciful that doom might be : With your dear parents in that hour of gloom. Which neither might nor skill of man could flee. You gave, at Heaven's omnipotent decree, Your innocent lives a spotless sacrifice ; And when the silent chambers of the sea Shall hear the echoing trumpet rend the skies. With them to meet the Lord in glory ye shall rise. , B 4 8 A widow's tale. 14. Then shall the wisdom of Omnipotence To our illumin'd vision be made clear ; Marvels and mysteries unto mortal sense Shall great, and good, and merciful appear ; Be our's that perfect love which casts out fear, Dark doubt, and unbelief by faith's strong might, And all things" seen in part and darkly" here. Through the dim glass of reason's erring sight. Shall be reveal'd to us in truth's unclouded light. 15. Peace to your spirits ! Your lamented fate, Sweet innocents, has call'd me from our own ; Bidding my mournful tale anticipate More than its narrative had erst made known ; Our fragile bark upon the reefs was thrown. And soon was broken up ; when all but nine. To whom a transient respite yet was shown. Were whelm'd beneath the darkly-heaving brine ; Unseen, but not unheard each sufferer's " parting siffn." A widow's tale. 9 16. We heard the children's feeble cries to save ;— Their parents' broken accents, while commend- ing Their souls to God ! with every wind and wave Which broke around us some sad sound was blending ; — It was a scene all scenes of woe transcending Which e'er had made my heart with an guish thrill ; Fearful to witness, painful in its ending, — For, though each cry we heard our blood might chill, As, one by one, they ceas'd, our hearts were colder still ! 17. And we were left to brave that awful night, Waiting for death, and musing on the dead ; Nor moon nor stars above us shed their light, But the dark sky was like a pall o'er-spread ; Each coming wave, rearing its mountain head, Threatened destruction ; and the gusty blast Howling around us, as it onward sped. Reminded us of sounds for ever past, The cries of drowning men, their saddest, and their last! B 5 10 A widow's tale. 18. Slowly that long, long night was watch'd away ; Fond hope, that clings to life, reviv'd with light ; With trembling joy we hail'd its glimmering ray, And saw it slowly chase the clouds of night ; The tops of hills then blest our eager sight, The sea no more in mountain billows roll'd. The glorious sun came forth in splendour bright; Well might our sinking hearts become more bold. When thus our eyes beheld another morn unfold. 19. In sight of land, with every chance to greet Some wandering sail with aid approaching nigh. Could our hearts fail with rising throbs to beat ? Or dark despair o'ercloud each anxious eye ? With hope that almost felt like certainty. We made our signals to the neighbouring strand ; Trusting, believing some one viust espy Our puny pennon by the breezes fann'd. And launch a friendly boat to bring our crew to land. A widow's tale. 11 20. Not so ; — the lingering, weary hours pass'd by, And we were left in helpless suffering there ; To hear the dashing wave, — the sea-mew's cry ; In doubt, and dread, and " sad suspense to bear The fearful hope that keeps alive despair :" Bark after bark our desperate station near'd ; And when relief seem'd granted to our prayer, When the chill'd heart reviving courage cheer'd, Each vessel tack'd about, and from our vision steer'd. 21. Cruel it seem'd ; — but we remain'd unheard, Unseen, unpitied ; — on the passing breeze Was borne no sound which might with hope ha,ve stirr'd Our spirits, sinking amid tossing seas : Instead of this, — a sight our hearts to freeze, Dead bodies floated by us on the wave, Our late companions ; — as we look'd on these, Thus reft of life, and yet denied a grave. We felt a sick'ning chill which palsies e'en the brave. B 6 12 A widow's tale. 22. But tliouoU our hopes of aid from human power With each fresh disappointment fainter grew, God's miglit and meicy, in that dreadful hour Sustain'd the spirits of the trembling few Who look'd to Him alone ; His power, we knew Could bring deliverance though by man unseen, We felt we were not hidden from his view, Though nought beside was left whereon to lean ; And prayer to Him, at times, still kept our hearts serene. 23. It is not in the summer hours of life, When all around is prosp'rous, bright, and gay, That prayer's true worth is known ; 'tis in the strife Of fear and anguish, when we have no stay On earth, or earthly things ; Oh ! then we pray. As those who know not sorrow never can : — Each false support must first be rent away. All confidence in self, all trust in man, Kear-ward each worldly thought, each heavenly in the van, — A widow's tale. 13 24. Before the place where living prayer is made Can be attain'd unto, or audience won : — Oh ! thus in earnestness to God we pray'd ; Beseeching Him, through his Redeeming Son, To give us power to say, " Thy will be done !" And thanks to Him who hears and answers prayer. Our helpless wretchedness he did not shun, Nor leave our hearts a prey to dark despair, Though mine the only life his mercy deign'd to spare. 25. Lightly the worldling may our prayers esteem. Since, save myself, all sank beneath the tide ; Not so the Christian of their worth will deem, As if their richest blessing were denied ; — Not for our mortal life, alone, we cried. But pray'd of Him whose word once still'd the Avave, The Pure, the Sinless, who for sinners died, His power from death's most dreadful sting might save. And give us through His Name the victory o'er the grave. 14 A widow's tale. 26. Thanks to His glorious name ! the strength of sin, Its yoke of bondage, slavish fear of death, — Were there subdued ; our minds were calm within, Sooth'd and sustain'd by holy living faith. His gift, whose everlasting arm beneath Preserv'd our spirits' better hopes unbroken ; And by the brethren, with their dying breath. Much of the Saviour's power and love were spoken, Making the cross He bore hope's sole surviving token. 27. Their words fell not upon regardless ears, For hearts were tendered, spirits humbly bow'd ; And eyes, perchance 'till then unwet by tears Of penitence, with sorrow overflow'd ; There was no dark obduracy to cloud The light within, surpassing that of day ; Who could be doubtful, careless, cold, or proud. Or who the Gospel's promises gainsay. When life's last ebbing sands seera'd fleeting fast away. A widow's tale. 15 28. And hence our fragment of a wreck became A temple to the Lord I who there was known ; There did He glorify His wondrous name And make the light of his salvation shown ; Our hopes, our fears were turn'd to Him alone. In frequent intervals of solemn thought, And many a sigh, and tear, and prayer, and groan. With more than rhetoric's richest graces fraught. Meekly pour'd forth to Him his seat of mercy sought. 29. Three nights and days thus passed : but months and years Of common life more rapidly had sped ! So many griefs and sufferings, hopes and fears, Were blended in each hour that o'er us sped : — Oh ! when life hangs by such a slender thread. How slowly, yet how swiftly moments fly ; Surrounded by the dying, and the dead, The nights crept on, the days soon hurried by, Each seeming, in its turn, to bring eternity ! 16 A widow's tale. 30. Three days, and nights ! the sun arose, and set, And set and rose; the Curlew sought her nest, And came at morn, and found us ling'ring yet, Waiting for death : — whether the glowing west Shed its rich splendours over Ocean's breast, Or the bright orient told another morn, Or moon and stars proclaim'd the hour of rest To all but us; — there watching, faint, and worn. In sad suspense we sate, a waning band forlorn. 31. A waning band, for one by one was gone, Exhausted, to the ocean depths below ; And we, who somewhat longer linger'd on. Were worn with watching, weariness, and woe : — The cry of sea-birds, flitting to and fro Around the rocky reef whereon we lay, The sound of dashing waves, whose ceaseless flow, Drenched our spent bodies with their briny spray,— Hour after hour endur'd, seem'd wasting life away. A widow's tale. 17 32. ' One after one Avas taken. Some in vain Essay'd to swim unto the neighbouring shore ; Forlorn of hope they plung'd into the main, With nerveless arm to brave the billows' roar ; Each after each they sank to rise no more : — Alas ! each fruitless etFort only made Our lot seem lonelier than it was before; For, as our dwindled numbers we survey'd, Hope, — fear of being last on each survivor weigh'd. 33. Another, and another sank ; and now But three of all our crew were left behind. He unto whom my lip had pledg'd a vow Which closer seem'd in this sad hour to bind, — Myself, and him to whom was erst assign'd Our ship's command; — we three still feebly kept, A little longer, life's faint spark enshrin'd In frames o'er which death's icy coldness crept ; — Waking, we watch'd, and pray'd; by turns we briefly slept. 18 A widow's tale. 34. Yes, slept ! for e'en the wretched sink to sleep. Though not to rest ; — dark dreams of fearful gloom Rise to such slumberers on the mighty deep, Which seem like preludes of approaching doom ; Visions of monsters lurking in the womb Of Ocean's plumbless depths their prey to seize; Of corpses over which its billows boom, Far, far below the sunshine and the breeze ; Of all, men dread or dare,who brave the stormy seas. 35. Mingled with these rose visions fair and bright, Lovelier, but far more cruel, dreams of home; Such as the home-sick bosoms oft delight Of mourning exiles when afar they roam ; Instead of tossing waves with whitening foam, Were purling brooks, with flowers beside them springing, The dreamer's canopy, not heaven's wi4e dome, But leafy trees,where happy birds were singing, Or to whose topmost boughs the rooks were home- ward winging. A widow's tale. 19 36. But why the mockeries of dreams relate ? Enough was ours of dark reality Which feverish dreams could scarcely aggra- vate; Thirst, hunger, pining famine now drew nigh, Parch'd was each lip, and blood-shot every eye, All life's elastic energy seem'd flown ; Our words were faint, and few ; a look, a sigh. Or murraur'd sounds, like infant's feeble moan, Feeling and thought express'd, and made our meaning known. 37. And now the fears whose agony had rent, For its fond partner, my foreboding heart. Drew near their last and dread accomplish- ment ; And though some melancholy tears might start. To think that thus it was our lot to part ! I felt that sighs and tears alike were vain ; Could either have delay'd Death's menac'd dart, Selfish it seem'd to wish he should remain A prey to pining want, and long-protracted pain. 20 A widow's tale. 38. Yet all T could was done, in that sad hour, To pillow on my breast his sinking head ; I could not bear the billows should devour His wasted form 'till life's last spark had fled; It seem'd Affection's sole surviving dread, In that most painful climax of its woe. That he should sink in Ocean's tossing bed, Powerless to struggle, yet alive to know The pangs of drowning men. Thank God !~it was not so ! 39. I could not minister to him — as those Who in the peaceful chamber tend the dying ; Where all is hush'd to wait the awful close, And even struggling grief finds vent in sigh- ing; Where fond Affection, still unwearied trying Each blameless art its fancy can suggest. Fresh palliatives for each new pain supplying, Kisses the wan cheek on the pillow prest; — By every languid smile for all its ef!orts blest. A widow's tale. 21 40. Such were not in my power ; I could but watch, With mournful glance, his coldly glazing eye, And chanoinq: features ; thankful but to catch Words to which tears forbade me to reply : — Just ere the close a wave swept rudely by ; I call'd upon the Captain, in my dread, " Oh raise him, in my arms, that he may die !" Heturn'd round to me, mournfully, and said, I, too, am almost gone !" — and soon his spirit fled. <0 41. But strength was given me, though my trem- bling clasp Had else been powerless as a babe's might be, To hold my dying husband in ray grasp, For this I knew he would have done for me, 'Till in my arms his spirit was set free, " Jesus" — and *' Glory" — falt'ring on his tongue ; — And ere I let him sink into the sea, Much as my feelings were by anguish wrung, To his eternal joy my spirit meekly clung. 22 A widow's tale. 42. I let him go ! the rushing waves clos'd o'er him, My tears were check'd, and hush'd was ev'ry groan ; It seem'd unjust, unfeeling to deplore him. Hoping, yea trusting that his soul had flown To join the worshippers around the throne Of God, and of the Lamb !— I now could bear To linger out life's few brief hours alone, And die the last sad helpless being there, If his immortal bliss my deathless soul might share. 43. So was I left in solitude : — and found By my deliverers — like some breathless thing By fabled spell of old enchanter bound ; Or her whose woes the ancient poets sing ; Or form which statuary's art may bring To mimic mortal life from lifeless clay ; A being — in whose breast life's hidden spring, Chill'd at its fountain-head, forgets to play,— 'IMuis was I found, and thence, unconscious, bornr away. A widow's tale. 23 44. Such is my Story : Reader, did I err When I declared it one, whose deep distress Each gentle source of sympathy might stir, In hearts which feel for others' wretchedness ? Why have I told ray sorrows ? but to press Upon thy heart what they have taught to mine, That those who in affliction strive to bless A Father's rod, shall on his staff recline, And in grief's darkest hour be clieer'd by Light Divine. 45. To them who live by faith, and not by sight, The Lord will prove himself a God indeed ; Riches in poverty, in weakness might, A present help in every time of need ; And should his love through death's dark cham- bers lead, There shall his presence, in the fearful hour, Give them a Saviour's sacrifice to plead. And make them more than conq'rors in the power Of Him whose holy name remains their fortress- tower. 24 A widow's tale. 46. Then glory, honour, worship, power, and praise, Be given to Him who sitteth on the throne ! Whose path is on the sea, whose wond'rous ways Through the deep waters yet remain unknown ; The riches of whose mercy still are shown To ALL who, trusting not their might, or skill, In living faith look up to Him, alone ; Seeking, in every change of good or ill, To magnify His name, and bless His holy will. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 27 CARACTACUS. 1. Before proud Rome's imperial throne. In mind's unconquer'd mood, As if the triumph were his own, The dauntless captive stood ; None, to have seen his freeborn air. Had fancied him a prisoner there. 2. Though through the crowded streets of Rome, With slow and stately tread. Far from his own lov'd island-home That day in triumph led, — tlnbow'd his head, unbent his knee, Undimm'd his eye, his aspect free. c 2 28 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 3. A free and fearless glance he cast On temple, arch, and tower, By which the long procession pass'd Of Rome's victorious power ; And somewhat of a scornful smile Upcurl'd his haughty lip the while. 4. And now he stood with brow serene Where slaves might prostrate fall ; Bearing a Briton's manly mien In Caesar's palace hall ; Claiming, with kindling brow and cheek, The privilege e'en there to speak. 5. Nor could Rome's haughty Lord withstand The claim that look preferr'd ; But motion'd with uplifted hand The suppliant should be heard ; If he, indeed, a suppliant were, Whose glance demanded audience there. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ^D 6. Deep stillness fell on all the crowd ; From Claudius on his throne Down to the meanest slave that bow'd At his imperial tone ; Silent his fellow-captives' grief, As fearless spoke the Island Chief. " Think not, thou Eagle-Lord of Rome, And master of the world. Though vict'ry's banner o'er thy dome In triumph now be furl'd, I would address thee as thy slave, — But as the bold should greet the brave. 8. *' I might perchance, could I have deign'd To hold a Vassal's throne, E'en now in Britain's isle have reign'd, A king, in name alone. — Yet holding, as thy meek ally, A monarch's mimic pageantry. c 3 30 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 9. " Then through Rome's crowded streets, this day, I might have rode with thee ; Not in a captive's base array. But fetterless, and free ; — If freedom he could hope to find Whose bondage is of heart and mind. 10. " But canst thou marvel that, — freeborn, With heart and hope unquell'd. Throne, crown, and sceptre I should scorn. By thy permission held ? Or that I should retain my right, 'Till wrested by a conqueror's might ? 11. " Rome, with her palaces, and towers. By us un-wish'd, un-reft ; Her homely huts, and woodland bowers To Britain might have left ; Worthless to you their wealth must be, But dear to us — for they were free ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 31 12. " 1 might have bow'd before ; — but where Had been thy triumph now f To my resolve no yoke to bear Thou ow'st thy laurell'd brow ; Inglorious victory had been thine, And more inglorious bondage mine. 13. " Now I have spoken — do thy will ; Be life or death my lot, Since Britain's throne no more I fill. To me it matters not : — My fame is clear, but on my fate Thy glory, or thy shame must wait.'" 14. He ceased. From all around up-sprung A murmur of applause ; For well had truth's and freedom's tongue Maintain'd their holy cause : — Nor couJd the conqueror's heart gainsay Their nobler, and diviner sway. C 4 32 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WITHER'D LEAVES. It was showVy April, or gladsome May Bade your buds to light surrender ; And blytliely ye danc'd in the sun's warm ray» Or the pale moon's gentler splendor. Mild as the south wind o'er sunny seas Were the gales of Summer round you ; Or the whisp'ring sigh of the cool night-breeze Which in dewy darkness found you. Like the birds which sang in your bow'ry shade You seem'd born to beauty and gladness ; With greenness to twine its thornless braid Hound a brow that knew not sadness. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 33 But the Autumn came, and your verd'rous hue. With a deeper tinge was shaded, AVhich, while it enchanted the pensive view, Show'd beauty that slowly faded. It has faded, and flown ; — and your graceful pride On the cold earth is rudely trodden. By the bleak winds wafted far and wide. And with dews and rain-drops sodden. There was beauty, and music, and life, and joy Combin'd with your spring-tide glory ; Nor can adverse Winter with you destroy Thoughts told by your simple story. There be hopes, like you, that are born to die, Which the young, and the thoughtless cherish ; Yet awhile, and their lustre enchants the eye. Yet awhile, and they darkly perish. And hopes there are of a heavenly birth For the lowly of heart to nourish ; Which the winter of death cannot wither on earth, In immortal spring to flourish. c 5 ^4 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A Tree there is — whose eternal roots Are nourish'd by living waters, With leaves ever green and twelve-fold fruits For the healing of sons and daughters. And as ye are the types of those hopes untrue O'er which time and death are victorious, The leaves of that Tree to the Christian's view Are the emblems of hopes more glorious. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 36 SONNET, TO NATHAN DRAKE, ON THE TITLE OF HIS NEWLY ANNOUNCED WORK. •* Mornings in Spring," — Oh ! happy thou, indeed, Thus with the glow of sunset to combine Day's earlier brightness, and in life's decline To send thought, feeling, fancy back to feed In youth's fresh pastures, from the emerald mead To cull Spring flowers with Autumn fruits to twine ; And borrow from past harmonies benign Strains sweeter far than of the past'ral reed. Not such the lot of him who, ere his sun Has pass'd its solstice, with the faded bloom Of Spring's young beauty blends dark Winter's doom ; Thankful if, when life's stormy race be run, The humble hope that his day's work is done May cheer the shadowy entrance to the tomb. c G 3G MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SONNET. Ocean ! I pace not now thy winding shore, As in life's morn, when hope and fancy gave Their niaj;ic beauty to each bursting wave, And sweetest music to thy wild uproar : Yet not for this I murmur ; nor deplore, Beholding Thee still beautiful, and brave. That 1 am journeying onward to the grave. To muse and wander by thy side no more. " Unchanging, boundless, endless, and sublime,' Thou liast been liken'd to eternity ! But truth shall manifest to every eye That oven Thou art but a gaud of time ; While he who frames this evanescent rhyme. From the grave's darker depths shall soar on high. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 37 A DIRGE, " We knew that the moment was drawing nigh To fulfil every fearful token ; When the silver chord must loosen its tie. And the golden bowl be broken." 1. Thus, but a few brief years gone by, the Muse's plaintive lay Mourn'd, in his early bloom of life, thy brother snatch'd away ; And now that hour has come to thee ; each token is fulfiU'd, And death's relentless, icy touch thy gentle heart has still'd. 38 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. O The broken bowl we well may mourn, the loosen'd cord must feel ; The pitcher broken at the fount, the cistern's moveless wheel ; But what can types like these aftord to dry the tears we shed ? These mournful emblems are but signs which tell us thou art dead ! 3. A purer, and a better hope God's Holy Word makes known ; And oh ! may we, who mourn thy loss, its conso- lations own ; Though dust to kindred earth return when life's brief path be trod, The spirit by His grace redeem'd ascends unto its God. 4. One thought, alone, may teach our hearts to hush each bitter sigh ; One hope, alone, can have the power aftection's tears to dry : The thought of thy immortal bliss should sweeten sorrow's cup ; The humble hope that bliss to share should bear our spirits up. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 39 5. But they have dug thy narrow house ; and while 1 write there stand Around thy silent, lifeless form — of friends a mournful band ; Oh ! though we are not of that band, not less of this sad hour Deep, deep within our hearts we feel the so- lemnizing power ! 6. We raouru thy loss; but while we mourn, may hope's fond watch -word be " Thou canst not come again to us, but we may go to thee !" Thy virtues need no sculptur'd stone their gentle worth to tell ; Our hearts thy cherish'd memory hoard : — Fare- well ! dear friend, farewell ! 40 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. KING CANUTE. 1. TJpon his royal throne he sate, In a Monarch's thoughtful mood ; Attendants on his regal state His servile courtiers stood, With foolish flatteries, false, and vain. To win his smile, his favour gain. 2. They told him e'en the mighty deep His kingly sway confess'd ; That he could bid its billows leap, Or still its stormy breast. — He smil'd contemptuously, and cried " Be then my boasted empire tried." MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 41 3. Down to the Ocean's sounding shore The proud procession came, To see its billows' wild uproar King Canute's power proclaim ; Or, at his high and dread command, In gentle murmurs kiss the strand. 4. Not so thought he, their noble King, As his course he sea- ward sped ; — And each base slave, like a guilty thing, Hung down his conscious head : — He knew the Ocean's Lord on high ! They that he scorn'd their senseless lie. 5. His throne was plac'd by Ocean's side, He lifted his sceptre there ; Bidding, with tones of kingly pride, The waves their strife forbear : — And, while he spoke his royal will, All but the winds and waves were still ! 42 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 6. Louder the stormy blast swept by, In scorn of his idle word ; The briny deep its waves toss'd high, By his mandates undeterr'd. As threat'ning, in their angry play. To sweep both King and Court away. 7. The Monarch, with upbraiding look, Turn'd to the courtly ring ; But none the kindling eye could brook E'en of his earthly King ; For, in that wrathful glance, they see A mightier Monarch wrong'd than he ! 8. Canute ! thy regal race is run ; Thy name were past away, But for the meed this tale hath won, Which never shall decay ; Its meek, unperishing renown Out-lasts thy sceptre and thy crown. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 43 9. The Persian, in his empty pride, Forg'd fetters for the main ; And when its floods his power defied Inflicted stripes as vain : — But it was worthier far of Thee To know thyself, than rule the sea '. 44 MISCELLANEOi;S POEMS. STANZAS WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF JANE TAYLOR'S WORKS. 1. AVhate'er the meed of earthly fame The world to thee may give, My grateful spirit owns thy claim In memory long to live. 2. To live, — among those cherish'd things To which, when life is drear, The heart with fond remembrance clings, Its sinking hopes to cheer. 3. Thy page, by lisping infants lov'd, By riper manhood prais'd, Nor less by hoary age approv'd, Hath thy memorial rais'd. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 45 4. A monument which shall out-last Full many a sculptur'd stone ; And make, when circling years have pass'd. Thy modest virtues known. 5. Nor would I wish that fame should twine A prouder wreath for me. Than faith, and hope, and love assign To grace, and honour thee. 6. To honour Thee! Be His, alone The glory, and the praise, AVho, on his glory-circled throne. Now greets thy raptur'd gaze. 7. Unworthy would the poet be. Of vision dark and dim. Whose muse, in celebrating Thee, Forgot to honour Him. 46 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY; A TALE OP TRUE CHIVALRY. 1. The hoarser din of war had died away, The cannon's thunder, and the clarion's swell, And on the sanguine field of battle-fray Silence more sad, and more appalling fell ; Stillness unbroken but by murmurs low, Which told of faintness, weariness, and woe. 2. Here lay a Chief, whose war-cry thro' the field Had rivall'd late the trumpet's clamour loud, His cold brow pillow'd on his dinted shield. His bloody corselet, now, alas, his shroud ; And there beside him, soil'd with dust and foam,' riic faithful steed that bore him from his home. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 47 3. Here lay a stripling, ne'er to rise again From his first Held of battle, and his last ; And there a veteran of the warrior train. Who scatheless many a fearful fray had past ; But now was stretched upon his gory bed, The mute companion of the silent dead. 4. And now a living group arrests the eye ; — Two Squires at Arras, supporting on the plain A Knight of manly form and lineage high. Living, but faint with weariness and pain ; — And round them, eager to afford relief, Gather the faithful followers of their Chief. He through the thickest of the fight had led The fearless on to victory and to fame ; Like one whose heart no danger e'er could dread. Whose ardent spirits no fatigue could tame ; — But now exhausted on the field of death. Each languid sigh appears his parting breath. 48 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 6. His cheek, his brow are pale ; his eye is dim, So lately like a falcon's in its gaze. And shapeless forms before his vision swim, Such as the sleeper in a dream surveys : — Oh ! for a cup of water ! 'twould be worth The richest vintage of the teeming earth. 7. 'Tis brought ; a gift more welcome than a gem ; For never yet, in beauty's braded hair, Or haughty monarch's costly diadem, Shone pearl or ruby with it to compare ; — Cool, bright, and sparkling, in that faint distress \Vorth kingly smile, or woman's dear caress. 8 He lifts it to his lips : — he stops ! ah why Not quaff the draught, when life may come with drinking? He sees beside him one, whose wistful eye Is on that cup, whose very soul is sinking ; Poor, helpless, nameless ! none to him attend. For when had humble wretchedness a friend ? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 49 0. Oh ! then, and there ; — for, melting at the view, The noble Sidney, in his hour of need. From his parch'd lips the welcome cup withdrew. And gave it him whose sufferings thus could plead ; Exclaiming, with benevolence benign, "Here, drink, my friend, thy want surpasses mine !" 10. And never knightly deed of arms was done By him, the frank, the chivalrous, the bold, Which more enduring fame hath nobly won. Than with this simple legend is enroll'd ; Fame which the heart shall suffer not to die. Glory befitting genuine chivalry ! 50 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. HYMN. ' Tlioa makest the outgoings of the morniog and evening to rejoice. — Psaljn Ixv. 8. The morning's out-goings, its beauty and splendour. To thy creatures, O God ! should thy witnesses be; And the stillness of evening, more soothingly tender, Should gather our spirits to center in Thee. 2. But the aid of Thy Spirit must livingly teach us, With power, and with unction deriv'd from above, — Ere the voice which they speak can availingly reach us, Or we can interpret their language of love. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 5l 3. If the glories of nature, alone, could have guided The pilgrims of earth to their mansions on high. The light of the Gospel thou hadst not provided, Nor a Saviour descended for sinners to die. Then pour out Thy Spirit on sons and on daughters; Open eyes to Thy beauty, and ears to Thy voice ; 'Till praise to Thy name, like the sound of vast waters. May bid them with morning and evening rejoice. l> 2 52 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WHICH THINGS ARE A SHADOW. 1. I saw a stream whose waves were bright With morning's dazzling sheen ; But gathering clouds, ere fall of night, Had darken'd o'er the scene : — " How like that tide," My spirit sigh'd, " This life to me hath been !" The clouds dispers'd ; the glowing west Was bright with closing day, And on the river's peaceful breast Shone forth the sunset ray : — My spirit caught The soothing thought — Thus life might pass away. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 63 3. J saw a tree with ripening fruit And shady foliage crown 'd ; But ah ! an axe was at its root, And fell'd it to the ground : — Well might that tree Recall to me The doom my hopes had found. The lire consum'd it : — but I saw Its smoke ascend on high ; — A shadowy type, beheld with awe, Of that which cannot die, But from the grave Shall rise to crave A home beyond the sky ! D 3 54 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ON THE GLORY USUALLY DEPICTED ROUND THE HEAD OF THE SAVIOUR. A blameless fancy it perchance might be Which first with glory's radiant halo crown'd Thee; Art's rev'reud homage, eager all should see The majesty of Godhead beaming round Thee. 2. But had thy mien to outward sight been such, In God-like splendour unto sense appealing; — AVhat mortal hand had dar'd thy form to touch. Though conscious even touch was fraught with healing ? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 55 3. ' More truly, but more darkly — prophecy Thy vesture of humanity had painted ; — Uncomely, and repulsive to the eye, A man of sorrow, and with grief acquainted ! 4. Saviour, and Lord ! if in thy human hour Evangelists, alone, might tell thy story, O how shall painter's art, or poet's power — Pourtray Thee coming in thy promised glory ? » 4 56 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A GRANDSIRE'S TALE. 1. I'he tale I tell was told me long ago ; Yet mirthful ones, since heard, have pass'd away, "While this still wakens memory's fondest glow, And feelings fresh as those of yesterday : 'Twas told me by a man whose hairs were grey. Whose brow bore token of the lapse of years. Yet o'er his heart affection's gentle sway, Maintain'd that lingering spell which age en- dears, And while he told his tale his eyes were dim with tears. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 57 2. But not with tears of sorrow ; — for the eye Is often wet with joy and gratitude ; And well his faltering voice, and tear, and sigh, Declared a heart by thankfulness subdued : Erief feelings of regret might there intrude, Like clouds which shade awhile the moon's fair light ; But meek submission soon her power renewed, And patient smiles, by tears but made more bright, Confess'd that God's decree was wise, and good, and right. It was a winter's evening; — clear, but still : Bright was the fire, and bright the silv'ry beam Of the fair moon shone on the window-sill. And parlour-floor; — the softly mingled gleam Of fire and moonlight suited well a theme Of pensive converse unallied to gloom ; Our's varied like the subjects of a dream ; And turn'd, at last, upon the silent tomb. Earth's goal for hoary age, and beauty's smiling bloom. D 5 58 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 4. We talk'tl of life's last hour, — the varied forms And features it assumes ; how some men die As sets the sun when dark clouds threaten storms, And starless night ; others whose evening sky Resembles those which to the outward eye Seem full of promise ; — and with soften'd tone, At seasons check'd by no ungrateful sigh, The death of one sweet grand-child of his own Was by that hoary man most tenderly made known. 5. She was, he said, a fair and lovely child As ever parent could desire to see. Or seeing, fondly love ; of manners mild, Affections gentle, even in her glee. Her very mirth from levity was free ; But her more common mood of mind was one Thoughtful beyond her early age, for she In ten brief years her little course had run, — Many more brief have known, but brighter surely none. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 59 6. Though some might deem her pensive, if not sad, Yet tliose who knew her better, best could tell How calmly happy, and how meekly glad Her quiet heart in its own depths did dwell : Like to the waters of some crystal well, In which the stars of heaven at noon are seen, Fancy might deem on her young spirit fell Glimpses of light more glorious and serene Than that of life's brief day, so heavenly was her mien. 7. But though no boist'rous playmate, her fond smile Had sweetness in it passing that of mirth ; Loving and kind, her thoughts, words, deeds, the while Betrayed of childish sympathies no dearth : She lov'd the wild flowers scatter'd over earth, Bright insects sporting in the light of day, Blythe songsters giving joyous music birth In groves imperious to the moontide ray ; — All these she lov'd as much as those who seem'd more gay. D 6 00 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 8. Yet more she lov'd the word, the smile, the look, Of those who rear'J her with religious care ; With fearful joy she conn'd that Holy Book, At whose unfolded page full many a prayer. In which her weal immortal had its share, Recurr'd to memory ; for she had been train'd. Young as she was, her early cross to bear ; And taught to love with fervency unfeign'd, The record of His life whose death salvation ^ain'd. I dare not linger, like my ancient friend, On every charm and grace of this fair maid ; For, in his narrative, the story's end Was long with fond prolixity delay'd ; Though fancy had too well its close pourtray'd Before I heard it. Who but might have guess'd That one so ripe for heaven would early fade In this brief state of trouble and unrest; Yet only wither here to bloom in life more blest? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 61 10. My theme is one of joy, and not of grief; I would not loiter o'er such flower's decay, Nor stop to paint it, slowly, leaf by leaf, Fading and sinking to its parent clay : i?he sank, as sinks the glorious orb of day. His radiance brightening at his journey's close ; Yet with that chasten'd, soft, and gentle ray In which no dazzling splendour fiercely glows, But on whose mellow'd light our eyes with joy repose. 11. Her strength was failing, but it seem'd to sink So calmly, tenderly, it Avoke no fear ; 'Twas like a rippling wave on ocean's brink. Which breaks in dying music on the ear. And placid beauty on the eye ; — -no tear, Except of quiet joy in her's was known ; Though some there were around her justly dear. Her love for whom in every look was shown , Yet more and more she sought and lov'd to be alone. G2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 12. One summer morn they miss'd her : — she had been As usual to the garden arbour brought, After their matin meal ; her placid mien Had worn no seeming shade of graver thought, Her voice, her smile, vrith cheerfulness was fraught. And she was left amid that peaceful scene A little space ; but when she there was sought. In her secluded oratory green, Their arbour's sweetest flower had left its leafy screen ! 13. They found her in her chamber, by the bed Whence she had risen, and on the bed-side chair. Before her, was an open Bible spread ; Herself upon her knees ; — with tender care They stole on her devotions, when the air Of her meek countenance the truth made known : The child had died ! died in the act of prayer ! And her pure spirit, without sigh or groan, To heaven and endless joy from earth and grief had flown. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. G'S "THE MORNING IS BREAKING." 1. The morning is breaking, The day is awaking. And beauty and glory are beaming around ; Bright flowrets are blowing, Cool streamlets are flowing, And meadows and woodlands with music resound. 2. The lark, upward winging, His matin is singing. As joyful the homage of nature to pay ; And thus man's devotion, With hallow'd emotion, Should rise to his God with the dawning of day. 04 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 3. The day is declining ; — Yet, cloudlessly shining, The bright sun in glory is taking his leave ; The flowrets are closing, And nature reposing Is bath'd in the dews and the stillness of eve. 4. . Like dew on the blossom. This hour on the bosom With wings dropping healing should softly descend ; Its silence appealing To thought and to feeling, — Our souls with the depth of its stillness should blend. 5. The stars in their courses Now marshal their forces ; The moon in pale splendour walks up the blue sky; While Philomel's numbers, 'Mid earth's placid slumbers. Seem lauds of thanksgiving ascending on high. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 65 6. Oh ! thus, when stars glisten, With none near to listen, Should spirits awakint? their melodies raise To Him who sleeps never, But merits for ever Glad songs of thanksgiving, and honour, and praise. 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SORROW'S LOVE. 1. Our love has been no summer flower, For joy's bright temples braided, Drooping when tempests darkly lower. By grief's bleak winter faded : — Not ours the vows of such as plight Their troth in sunny weather. While leaves are green, and skies are bright, To tread life's path together. But we have lov'd as those who tread The thorny path of sorrow ; With clouds above, and cause to dread Yet deeper gloom to-morrow. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 67 4. That thorny path, those cloudy skies Have drawn our spirits nearer ; And render'd us, by tenderest ties. Each to the other dearer. 5. Love, born in hours of joy and mirth. With mirth and joy may perish ; That to which darker days gave birth Still more and more we cherish. 6. It" looks beyond the clouds of time, Through death's dim, shadowy portal ; Made by adversity sublime, By faith and hope immortal. <>8 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A CHILD'S DREAM. 1. What know we of the glorious sights which bless an infant's dream ? Or, could we guess them, what more meet to be a poet's theme ? The hope that e'en a glimpse of such my numbers might make known, To fond imagination brings a day-dream of its own. 2. 'Tis of a child of five years old, upon whose peace- ful sleep Fair visions of another world with silent foosteps creep ; Soft as the dew on summer flowers, or moonlight on the sea, The influence of that blissful dream to fancy seems to be. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 69 3. The cheek, upon the pillow prest, wears joy's delightful tinge, The eyes are clos'd, yet joy's bright tear steals through the eyelids' fringe ; The lips are voiceless, yet they wear the sweetest smile of bliss — A smile so sweet it well might chide the fondest mother's kiss. 4. Thou happy sleeper ! might I tell where now thy spirit roams, The lot it shares — how poor would seem the joys of proudest domes ! Fame, wealth, and grandeur never yet a pleasure could impart So paugless and so pure as those which now pos- sess thy heart. 5. For thou art in the land of thought, and far hast left behind The fading happiness of earth for raptures more refin'd ; Thine seems a foretaste of the boon appointed for the blest, " Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 6. Thy spirit's yet unfolded bud may seem too young to share The full effulgence of the light which bursts around thee there ; Thy '• vital spark of heavenly flame" may shine with trembling ray Amid the sunless, moonless blaze of heaven's unclouded day. 7. Yet in thy measure fancy deems thy soul may now partake Those glories which the harps and songs of angels ever wake ; And to thy sight unconsciously are transient glimpses given, Whose bright beatitudes fulfil a child's sweet dream of heaven. 8. And is it not a lovely scene that greets thy vision now, — Where gratitude warms every breast, and joy lights every brow ? Where tears are wiped from every eye, and sick- ness comes not near. And hope, in certainty fuIfiU'd, has banish'd every fear ? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 71 9. What seest thou in that realm sublime ? the spirits of the just Made perfect through the blood of Him in whom they plac'd their trust"? The tuneful seraph-host that raise their son^s around the throne, Giving: to God and to the Lamb the praise that is their own ? 10. Or look'st thou on the Tree of Life, whose foliage yet may heal The nations, and the earlier curse of Eden's tree repeal ? Or gazest thou upon that stream, like clearest crystal bright. Proceeding from Jehovah's throne, and glorious from His light ? 11. Vain though it seem to ask or think what sights and forms divine May rise in slumber's tranquil hour on spirits pure as thine, Not wholly so, if, while he sings, within the minstrel's soul The influence of such heavenly themes may earth- born cares controul. 72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 12. Sleep, happy dreamer ! sleep in peace ; and may thy mental powers "By visions such as these be nurs'd for future waking hours ; That so from death's last dreamless sleep thy spirit may ascend To know the fulness of all Joy in glory without end. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 73 IN THE MORNING IT FLOURISH- ETH." "In the morning it flourislieth, and growetb up ; in tbe evening i is cut down, and withereth." — PsALM, xc. 6. 1. I walk'd the fields at morning's prime, The grass was ripe for mowing ; The sky-lark sang his matin chime, And all was brightly glowing : — 2. And thus, I thought, the ardent boy, His pulse with rapture beating, Thinks life's inheritance is joy, The future proudly greeting. E 74 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 3. 1 wander'd forth at noon : — alas ! On earth's maternal bosom The scythe had left the withering grass, And stretch'd the faded blossom ; — And thus, I thought with many a sigh. The hopes we fondly cherish. Like flowers which blossom but to die, Seem only born to perish. Once more at eve abroad I strayed, Through lonely hay-fields musing, While every breeze that round me played Rich fragrance was diffusing; 6. The perfum'd breath, the hush of eve, To purer hopes appealing. O'er thoughts perchance too prone to grieve Scatter'd the balm of healing. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 75 7. For thus " the actions of the just," When memory has enshrin'd them, E'en from the dark and silent dust Their odour leave behind them. E 2 76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. TO THE PASSION-FLOWER. 1. If superstition's baneful art First gave thy mystic name, Reason, I trust, would steel my heart As^ainst its groundless claim. 2. But if, in fancy's pensive hour, By grateful feelings stirr'd. Her fond imaginative power That name at first conferr'd, — Though lightly truth her flights may prize, By wild vagary driven. For once their blameless exercise May surely be forgiven. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 77 4. We roam the seas — give new found Isles Some king's or conqueror's name ; We rear on earth triumphant piles As meeds of earthly fame : — We soar to heaven, and to outlive Our life's contracted span, Unto the glorious stars we give The names of mortal man. 6. Then may not one poor flowret's bloom The holier memory share Of Him, who, to avert our doom, Vouchsaf d our sins to bear ? God dwelleth not in temples rear'd By work of human hands. Yet shrines august, by men rever'd, Are found in Christian lands. E 3 78 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 8. And may not e'en a simple flower Proclaim His glorious praise. Whose fiat, only, had the power Its form from earth to raise ? 9. Then freely let thy blossom ope Its beauties — to recal A scene which bids the humble hope In Him who died for all ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 79 INVOCATION TO SPRING. 1. Haste, O haste ! delightful Spring ! Glad birds thy approach shall sing ; Mounting larks with matin lays Shall ascend to hymn thy praise ; Countless warblers of the grove All shall tune their notes of love ; — Haste, O haste ! then, to set free Harmonies which wait for Thee, 2. Haste, O haste ! delightful Spring ! Over earth thy mantle fling ; Flowers shall ope their blossoms sweet Thy reviving smile to greet ; Grass shall clothe the lowly mead, Where the lambs shall sport and feed, Leaves and blossoms on each bough Shall unfold to wreath thy brow. E 4 80 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 3. Hasto, O haste ! delightful Spring ! Winter's storms are on the wing; Gentler breezes round us sigh. Whispering hopes that Thou art nigh. Milder showers in silence fall ; — Come, O come ! then, at our call, Come and tinge our brightening skies "With thy rich and varied dyes. 4. Haste, O haste ! deliglitful Spring ! To tlie captive freedom bring ; Torpid insects, buried deep. Wait thy voice to rouse from sleep, Others, yet unborn ; but stay For thy warm enlivening ray ; Haste, O haste ! the signal give At whose summons they shall live. 5. Haste, O haste ! delightful Spring ! Holier hopes unto thee cling ; Glowing feelings, thoughts refin'd. Stirrings of the immortal mind ; These at thy re-kindling breath AVaken as from wintry death. And see emblem'd in thy bloom Endless Spring beyond the tomb. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 TO MY DAUGHTER ON HER BIRTH- DAY. 1. My Child, this is thy natal day, And might a father's prayer For thee inspire his votive lay, What blessing shouldst thou share? 2. Shall wit, or wealth, or beauty move Thy sire to bend his knee ? I hold thee far too dear, my love, To crave these things for thee. 3. If wish of mine might prove of worth, Be this thy portion given, — Thy mother's blameless life on earth, Thy mother's lot in heaven. E 5 82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A SEA- SIDE REVERIE. 1. It is a glorious summer eve ! and in the glowing west, Pillow'd on clouds of rainbow hues, the broad sun sinks to rest ; From me his radiant disk is hid behind the tower- ing clift". But brightly fall his parting beams on yonder sea- ward skiff. 2. And sweetly, still, the billows there with borrow'd splendour shine, Reflected from the westward pomp that marks the day's decline ; But eastward wreaths of silvery mist, though distant, dim, and pale, Begin to draw around the scene, calm twilight's dusky veil. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 83 3. The wind, too, save a gentle breeze, hath softly died away ; Hush'd is the sea-bird's harsher scream, the sky- lark's thrilling lay ; No murmur but the ceaseless dash of waves is heard around, And these, so calm is ocean's breast, have music in their sound. 4. It is an hour when he who treads the sandy shore alone May find his thoughts and feelings take the landscape's gentle tone ; Pensive, not mournful is the mood such scenes and hours impart. Grateful and soothing is their power upon the care- worn heart. 5. An hour it is when memory wakes, and turns to former years, And lives along the travell'd line of parted hopes and fears ! A time when buried joys and griefs revive and live again, Those sober'd in their brighter tints, these soften 'd in their pain. £ 6 «4 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 6. Nor lacks this lov'd familiar scene its own peculiar ties "With varying visions of the past, which now before me rise ; — The cliffs, the sea, the winding beach unchang'd alike appear, Yet many changes have / known since first I wander'd here ! 7. In early life, a careless boy, I trod this lonely beach, And felt a thrill of transport strange, too ardent, far, for speech ! 'Twas freedom's throb, young joy's bright dream, and wonder's silent awe. Mingled, by nature's magic spell, with all I felt and saw. 8. More dream-like yet appear'd the scene, in man- hood's opening prime, When here, in love's fond visions wrapt, I roved a second time ; The landscape, wild and barren round, to me was fairy land, And fancies of my own made glad the solitary strand. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 85 9. A few brief months ! and then I sought this fav'rite haunt once more. Treading, with slow and mournful steps, this lov'd and lonely shore ; — Lov'd it had been, in youth's warm flush,^ in boy- hood's sanguine glee. But dearer far in grief's dark hour, its loneliness to me. 10. I wander'd here, and mus'd on hopes once glorious in their light. On disappointment's chilling clouds, which veil'd those hopes in night ; — Yet with such musings strength was given life's needful ills to bear, And glimpses of that purer bliss which sorrow must prepare. 11. What marvel then, if — loitering here alone at eventide, Alternate thoughts of joy and grief by memory are supplied ! What marvel that their light and shade should borrow from the scene A tone for thoughtless mirth too sad, for sorrow too serene ! tt6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 12. There is a mood of mind whose sway can saddest tlioughts beguile, VThose voiceless tear is brighter far than pleasure's gayest smile ; There is a feeling, — chastened, calm, as day's most gentle close, Whose quiet influence seems to hush the spirit to repose. 13. And O ! what gratitude is due to Him from whom alone. This holy tranquillizing power to man can be made known ; Whose word divine can bid the strife of earth-born passions cease, And give the mourner, tempest- toss'd, the calm of heart-felt peace ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 87 STANZAS, COMPOSED DURING A TEMPEST. 1. Dazzling may seem the noon-tide sky, Its arch of azure showing ; And lovely to the gazer's eye The west, at sun-set glowing. 2. Splendid the east, at morning bright, Fair — moonlight on the ocean, But glorious is the hush'd delight Born in the storm's commotion. 3. To see the dark and lowering cloud By vivid lightening riven. To hear the answer, stern and proud, By echoing thunders given. i» MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 4. To feel, in such a scene and hour, 'Mid all that each discloses, The presence of that viewless power On whom the world reposes : 5. This, to the heart, is more than all Mere beauty can bring o'er it ; Thought, feeling, fancy — own its thrall, And joy is hush'd before it. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 89 TO A CROCUS; The first flower in my own garden ; cjrowing np and blossoming beueatb a wall-flower. 1. Welcome, mild harbinger of Spring ! To this small nook of earth ; Feeling and fancy fondly cling Round thoughts which owe their birth To thee, and to the humble spot Where chance has Hx'd thy lowly lot. 2. To thee, — for thy rich golden bloom, Like heaven's fair bow on high, Portends, amid surrounding gloom, That brighter hours draw nigh. When blossoms of more varied dyes Shall ope their tints to warmer skies. 00 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 3. Yet not the Lily, nor the Rose, Though fairer far they be, Can more delightful thoughts disclose Than I derive from Thee : The eye their beauty may prefer ; The heart is Thy interpreter ! 4. Methinks in thy fair flower is seen, By those whose fancies roam. An emblem of that leaf of green The faithful dove brought home, When o'er the world of waters dark Were driven the inmates of the ark. That leaf betoken'd freedom nigh To mournful captives there ; Thy flower foretells a sunnier sky And chides the dark despair By Winter's chilling influence flung O'er spirits sunk, and nerves unstrung. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 91 A nd sweetly has kind nature's hand Assign'd thy dwelling-place Beneath a flower whose blooms expand, With fond, congenial grace On many a desolated pile, Bright'ning decay with beauty's smile. 7. Thine is the flower of Hope, whose hue Is bright with coming joy ; The Wall-Jlower's that of Faith, too true For ruin to destroy ; — And where, O ! where should Hope up-spring. But under Faith's protecting wing ? y2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. TO A PRIMUOSE. 1. Flower of pale, but lovely bloom, Given to grace my humble room, On my spirit's waken'd sense Pour thy silent eloquence. 2. Tales it tells of days gone by, When in Spring my boyish eye On the bank, or in the grove, Gaz'd on thee with joy and love. 3. Fairer flowers which gardens bear, Proud exotics, rear'd with care. Beautiful though they may be Never can compare with Thee. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 93 Thou art rich, from memory's store, With the wealth of life's young lore ; Lore by books but poorly taught, Wealth by riches never bought. While I look on thee, —I seem Once more of the past to dream, When life's business was but play, Joy — a spring-tide holiday. 6. When, the cares of man unknown. Boyhood's pleasures were my own ; And a sunny day in Spring, Gladness to my heart could bring. .7. Gladness from the bright blue sky, From the brook that babbled by, From the greenwood's leafy screen. From the mead's enamell'd green. 94 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 8. In those haunts so fresh and fair, In those hours so free from care, Faithful memory loves to trace Thy familiar form and face. 9. There thou wast— where-e'er I sti^ay'd. By the stream, or in the glade, Welcome to my eye, and heart — There thou wast, and here thou art! 10. Thanks, then, to the friendly theft Which thy lowly-root up-reft From its natal dwelling-place In this vase my desk to grace. 11. Faintly, while I look on Thee, Seems the past again to be ; Sights and sounds which then were dear Greet again my eye and ear. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. d5 12. Grateful is it yet to feel In the heart thy mute appeal ; Lingering greenness lurking there Feelings such as these declare. 13. Shed, then, on dark manhood's gloom Gleams of sunshine from thy bloom, Through whose spell the spirit seems Once more young in childhood's dreams. 96 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE DEAD. 1. Number the grains of sand out-spread Wherever Ocean's billows flow ; Or count the bright stars over-head, As these in their proud courses glow ; 2. Count all the tribes on earth that creep, Or that expand the wing in air; Number the hosts that in the deep Existence, and its pleasures share ; 3. Count the green leaves that in the breath Of Spring's blythe gale are dancing fast ; Or those, all faded, sere in death. Which flit before the wintry blast; — MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 97 4. Aye ! number these, and myriads more, All countless as they seem to be ; There still remains an ampler store Untold by, and unknown of Thee. Askest thou — " Who, or what be they ? Oh ! think upon thy mortal doom ; And with anointed eye survey The silent empire of the tomb ! 6. Think of all those who erst have been Living as thou art — even now ; Looking upon life's busy scene With glance as careless, light, as thou. All these, like thee, have liv'd and mov'd, Have seen — what now thou look'st upon, Have fear'd, hoped, hated, mourn'd, or lov'd, And now from mortal sight are gone. F 98 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 8. Yet, though unseen of human eye Their reliques slumber in the earth. The boon of immortality To them was given with vital birth. 9. They were ; and, having been, they ake ! Earth but contains their mould'ring dust, Their deathless spirits, near or far. With thine must rise to meet the just. 10. Thou know'st not but they hover near, Witness of every secret deed, Which, shunning human eye or ear, The spirits of the dead may heed. 11. An awful thought it is to think The viewless dead out-number all Who, bound by life's connecting link, Now share with us this earthly ball. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 99 12. It is a thought as dread and high, And one to wake a fearful thrill. To think, while all who live, must die, The dead ! the dead are living still F "2 100 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. HYMN. 1. Oh! what were life, if TIME, alone, Compriz'd our being's span ; An