THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES EVALINB, MADELON, 0%r Ijoems. BY LOUISA CHANDLER. LONDON : JOHN BUMPUS, 158 OXFORD STREET. 1861. LONDON: STRAXOCWAVB t WiLDM (lat G. BARCLAY), PrinUsis, 28 Csutle 8t Lcicerter Sq. ps TO THE RIGHT HON. THE VISCOUNT RAYNHAM, M.P. tst oems ate AS A TRIBUTE OF RESPECT TO HIS PUBLIC CHARACTER, AND IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF MANY ACTS OF PERSONAL KINDNESS. JOHANNA CHANDLER, EDWARD HENRY CHANDLER. 917999 THE SISTERS' MEMORIAL FUND, FOR THE PARALYSED AND EPILEPTIC. SOME few years since, two Sisters (orphans), who had been reared by their Grandmother, sat awaiting her return ; she came at last, but how changed ! She had left them cheerful and active, she was carried in a helpless burden : she had been suddenly stricken with Paralysis. Always of strong and active habits, " the thing she most feared had come upon her ; " the shadow deepened upon the once happy home, until it pleased God to take the poor afflicted one to Himself. Saddened by the sufferings of one so dear, and deeply impressed with the conviction, that if those surrounded with all the comforts of life thus suffered, the condition of the Paralysed Poor must be pitiable indeed, the Sisters conceived the idea of founding a charity for the especial benefit of persons so afflicted: but they were not rich, they knew, too, that the wealthy and benevolent were besieged with applications, and rightly judged that theirs would be cast aside. "We know a little art," said the elder Sister, " we will practise it until we have gained 200Z. ; we will offer that in earnest of our sincerity, and God will incline some kind heart to take up the cause." So the little fund was worked for, gained, and offered ; devoted men and women were found to take up the cause ; and the Hospital for the Paralysed and Epileptic was established : but the younger Sister (always delicate) lived only to see the commencement of the good work; with her dying breath she blessed it, prayed for its success, and entered into her rest. IN MEMORY of that loving helper, the elder Sister proposes to raise a FUND to establish Three or more Pensions of Ten Pounds annually in perpetuity, the sum required to be raised by Subscription Cards. This object secured, efforts will then be made to place the Out-dour Fund of the Hospital on a permanent foundation. All hearts, yet blessed with the endearing ties of Sister and Mother, uro entreated to aid in this Memorial of a Sister's and Mother's love. For particulars and all information, wldress Miss CHANDLER, 153 Albany Street, Regent's Park. This VOLUME OF POEMS is published in Aid of the Sisters' Memorial Fund. CONTENTS. EVALINE MADELON PAGE 1 45 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. LEGEND OF THE UNTERSBERG . JOSEPHINE AT THE FOUNTAIN . MURMURING .... RESIGNATION .... THE VILLAGE SABBATH . THE WANDERER THE OLD BARON THE TALE OF A SATIN GOWN 67 72 76 80 86 90 94 99 Mil < ( i \ r i \ i - I UK < II ANT OK DEATH THE KING OP THE WORLD THE DRESSMAKER'S DREAM TIIK PK.ATH OK S( Illl l.KH OO FORTH ..... THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH . DRATH AT THE HAL!, DEATH IN THE COTTAGE . OH ! STRIKE THY II \i:i- . \ \ I-ION OF DEATH AND IMMORTALITY THE BURIAL OF THE EMIGRANT A FACT, 1847 . . . CHRISTIAN CHAl:il\ PAOK 107 111 118 122 127 133 13S 140 142 144 160 154 PART I. DEEP in the dusk hill's purple shade A valley rich in tender grace, That pure and holy Peace had made Her home and dwelling-place ; The clash of storm and tempest came not there, A brooding calm hung in the stilly air. KVAI.INK. Dim, solemn irlen* \\ere here, mitrod By huniun foot dark, waving woods, Sacred to Nature and to God Tbcir grass-grown solitudes ; Soft, timid creatures thronged tlieir green arcade-, And loving dwelt amid their sombrous shade*. Rich meadows decked in mellow light, In purple heath and golden flower, In the long grass the daisies white Spread like a starry shower j In deep and dusky dells, half hid fram \ie\\ In clustered beds, the scented violets grew. Broad beeches spread a grateful shade, A stream meandered at their feet j And here the peaceful cattle strayed To shun the noon-day heat ; At ease reclined the mossy banks among, The cow-boy slept, or trolled his merry song. EVALINE. The village church peeped o'er the glen, Its walls were green with time and rot, Five hundred years the prayers of men Had sanctified the spot ; The birds all loved it, and its grey roof rang The livelong day with the glad song they sang. The voice of waters rushing streams Adown the hills through groves unseen, Then leaping forth in silvery gleams O'er slopes of richest green, Blent with the murmurs of the soughing breeze The bird's blithe song the Music of the trees. And nestling in the peaceful vale, There stood a thatched and lowly cot, The blushing rose, the jasmine pale, Were clustered round the spot ; Here white acacia wooed the summer wind, And fragrant woodbine all the roof entwined ; KYAI.IXK. A \ IDC its graceful beauty lent, And round the lattice crept and smiled ; Here dwelt in calm and deep content A peasant with his child ; Few of life's busy cares or joys had he, His cottage-home the infant at his knee Were all his wealth ; his young wife slept Low in the churchyard's quiet breast, There where the yew-trees' shadows crept She took her solemn rest j Bright were the flowers around her slumbering head, And smooth the turf that clothed her narrow bed. And now the child was all to him, A little laughing, winsome thing, Whose blue eyes made the violets dim, And joyous as the Spring ; For ever at his side was heard the fleet- Light -rain-like patter of her tiny feet : EVALIXK. She danced about his steps, and thrilled The very air with her shrill glee, When evening's calm his bosom filled, She clung around his knee ; And all night long upon his sturdy breast Her fair head lay in sweet and trustful rest. Sleep on in pure and blest repose While all around is bright arid glad, Ere o'er thee the dim shadows close, Life's shadows sombre and sad ; The Guardian Angel, o'er thy couch unseen, Unfolds his wings sleep, happy Evaline. ****** And high among the hills there stood A timeworn mansion, dark and grey, So shrouded in a dusky wood That scarce the light of day Could penetrate its dim and lonely halls, Or tinge the shrubs that fringed its crumbling walls. I \ A LINE. All was so still and solemn here, The light wind seemed to hold its breath, And murmur sadly as in fear; The hue and chill of Death Clung blightingly around eaeh living tiling, A dreary Winter, without hope of Spring. A silence over all was thrown, That chilled the heart and dimmed the eye,- The stillness of the churchyard lone Without its sanctity ; The groves had grown to forests dense and high, That veiled from sight the blue and happy sky. The light of the All-seeing Eye Smiled not upon the doomed plmv, God's Holy Angels passed it by With veiled and shaded face The simple peasant shunned its mournful shade, " Ave Maria!" sighed the trembling maid. KVALINE. 7 A fearful deed within its walls, They said, was wrought long years ago ; And still 'mid its decaying halls A wailing voice of woe, At midnight's awful hour, was heard to rise, The cry of blood, appealing to the skies ! But dear to its proud owner's heart, That solemn, old, ancestral hall ; A thoughtful man, he dwelt apart, Unloved, unsought of all ; Meet lord for those vast forests dusk and grey, Stately as they, and stateliest in decay. Lord of that broad and dark domain, Lord of the valley, bright and glad, Lord of the mountain and the plain, One only friend he had, One solitary hope a little child, Whose large eyes looked as though they ne'er hud smiled. EVALINE. Time was, a fair and lovely face Like sunshine stealing 'mid the gloom, Had shed a soft and tender grace About each dismal room : As flowers with their sweet hues and fragrant breath, Strewn o'er the bier, lend lo\e]inr-> to Death. But o'er her fell the blighting power, So meekly fading day by day, And traiKjiiilly as twilight hour She passed from earth away; Now in the quaint old church she took her rot, A weary weight of marble on her breast. It was a mournful sight to see The father and the little lad, So gloomy, proud, and stately he ; The child so mild and sad, So strong in love, and yet so sorely weak, So MireK fading, yet so sweetly meek. EVALINE. 9 With what a wordless agony That strong man watched this slow decay, Saw like a phantom gliding by His last hope pass away : Yet shed no tears, though every weary day His brow grew lined, his black locks gathered grey. And when the golden sunshine gleamed, And softly sighed the summer air, Clasped to his heart, as though he deemed Death could not reach him there, He'd bear the boy through the long meadow grass, That he might watch the merry waters pass. One eve, upon a ruined gate, The father and the joyless child In sorrow and deep silence sate; The peaceful valley smiled Through feathery mists that made it yet more sweet, Tinged with the sunset's glow beneath their feet. 10 EVA LINK. When suddenly an infant's voie. . A* hells of silver, soft iind clear, That seemed to say, " Rejoice, rejoice \" Broke lightly on the ear ; And from the waving grass so rich and green, With beaming face leaped little Evaline. Her fair and gulden head she raised In wonder, and a mute surprise ; Awhile the startled children gazed Into each other's eyes ; O'er his pale cheek a swift, faint flush was borne, Like the tirst glimmer of the early dawn. Then a quick, sudden cry of joy, It thrilled the father's heart to he.ir. Brake from the wan lips of the boy ; An angel's voice drew near, And 'mid the strains of Nature's Vesper Hymn, Breathed words of ho]>e and comfort nnto him. EVALIXE. 11 " Look up in faith/' the sweet voice said, " The child thou lovest shall not die ;" And murmuring through the forest glade, The low winds made reply ; Then all the deep wild prayers he. could not speak Gushed forth in tears upon his pallid cheek. The day to deepest night succeeds When autumn tinged the forest's shade, About the daisy-covered meads, Two happy children played : Clasped ever hand in hand the twain were s-.'en, The feeble Claude and merry Evaline. PART II. l,o.\(; ynrs have rolled away and still In placid beauty smiles the vale, Still leap the waters down the hill Singing their pleasant tale ; In the long grass the fresh and fragrant flowers Spring forth in shoals, to woo the summer showers. No charm hath faded from the spot, The jasmine pale and golden bine, Yet wave around the lowly cot, Still winds the graceful vine Its fairy tendrils o'er each lattice small, Scarce through its boughs can peep the \\hitcne, I \\all. i:v AI.INE. A woman fair is Evaline, With deep blue, tender, trustful eyes, Lovely as those with which I ween In days of Paradise The Earth's first Daughter gazed upon her Love, The while rejoicing angels smiled above. With dimpled cheek, whose hue is found In the rich scented apple-bloom, Soft rippling hair, that winding round The head can scarce find room, But longs, as in the Magdalen of old, To fold her in a robe of billowy geld. And Claude hath grown to manhood now, His tall form hath a languid grace, Black tresses shade his broad white brow And pallid, thoughtful face j He hath a tongue that can each sense beguile, Large touching eyes that speak, but never smile. 14 I \ \I.I\R. Seldom he cometh to the vale, To meet her now for all is changed From that sweet time, when hill ami dale, Clasped hand in hand, they ranged, And wandered o'er and never never more Must he be to her as in days of yore; She hears them say so father all. Her hands are folded on her breast, And o'er her aspect seems to fall A something like unrest ; Their cold words have a deadly, blighting power, Like the first blasts of Winter for the flower. Her father's eyes are waxing dim, Grey, scanty locks entwine his brow, But she, his child, is youth to him, Hope vigour all things now ! The day is spent the golden light is gone, But still the Star of Eve shines brightly on. EVALINK. | r > Amid the dusk hill's sombrous shade There lies a wild and rocky glen, Where nature hath a temple made Unsought untrod of men ; Huge stony masses loosely piled about, By mighty trees begirt, shut daylight out- All day the icy waters drip, Slowly from rock to rock they fall, The dappled deer here cools her lip, Nor fears the hunter's call ; Broad waving ferns and moss of richest green, Lend softened grace unto the solemn scene. There hangs o'er all a cold grey light, No gleam of sunshine gilds the air, And ever through the silent night Black darkness broodeth there ; Here in her secret haunts, unknown, untrod, Sings Nature ever anthems to her God. 11) I \ \I.I\K. Hani by tin- lonesome glen then- la\^ A little, lovely, blest retreat, You hear the waters dash always Tar far beneath your feet In clusti red heaps amid their mossy beds Rich scented violets rear their purple head>. Broad beeches wave their arms above, And shed refreshing: coolness there, A murmur as of hope and love For ever fills the air ; Through the green branches with a softened power. The sunbeams glisten like an April shower. Here like the spirit of the place, When twilight fadeth from the scene, And starbcams shed a pensive grace, Glides gentle Evaline ; Nightly she watches, till the moon on high In floods of silver bathes the holy sky. EVALINE. 17 A haunting terror is exprest In her blue eye, and changeful cheek, Her arms are crossed upon her breast, Her words are low and meek ; " Thou of the bleeding heart ! my sorrow see, Oh Virgin Mother ! bring him back to me ! " All night she prayeth silently God's Angels guard the sleeping Earth, 'Till rise the rose-clouds in the sky To hail the morning's birth, " Oh Thou of many woes, my sorrow see, Oh Virgin Mother ! bring him back to me ! " One mournful Evening sad, alone, Came she unto the trysting-place, And there upon a mossy stone (Maria ! grant her grace !) Among the violets lay a paper white, Amid their purple heads, it gleamed like light. 18 EVALINE. Few, formal, were the lines and >ld (A little will suffice to kill,) Dense, pall-like mists her frame enfold, Death-pangs her bosom thrill, In characters of fire these words she read : " I have deceived thee, and we are not wed ! " Nor word, nor tear, her feelings told, With dead fixed eye and lips apart, So anguish gathered, 'till it rolled Like thunder o'er her heart ; The reeling Earth seemed iron 'neath her tread, A brazen sky hung looming overhead. Then sank she to the ground, and lay Like one that is but newly dead, Alone, yet not alone alway With azure wings outspread, The Guardian Angel, weeping, hovered by, And prayed for that poor soul in agony EVALINE. 19 She waked to life, a bitter cry Lone Nature, Mighty Mother, heard, Beneath her bosom, thrillingly, A living something stirred ; An icy shudder shivered thro' her frame, Oh Heaven ! she bears a witness of her shame. How dazzling bright it is ! Oh God ! See how the moonlight streameth down, She sees it written on each clod The dusk hills have no frown, The woods no shade, white brightness fills the air, No cloud in Heaven no shadow anywhere. Then fell a whisper soft and low, An Angel's whisper in her ear, " Far off the southern breezes blow, Come on, and do not fear ; 'Take up thy cross, be all thy sin forgiven, This mortal grief shall ope the gates of Heaven." 20 KV.VI.IM Her soul \vas saved the gu.-hini: li ;u- l ; cll taM upon hrr bosom pale, With tlu in cauie thoughts of other years, The cottage in the vale ; " Madonna's blessing be upon thee ever, Mm I shall see thec, nevermore oh, never!" O'er Heaven there fell a sable pall, The moon sank down in sudden shade, All night about the ruined Hall The lurid lightning played, 'Till Morn rose gloomily above the scene, Oh ! whither by its light toiled Evaline ? PART III. STILL blithely down the vine-clad hills, The sparkling waters leap and play, Their tinkling voice the valley fills With melody alway ; The grateful flowers love their joyful song, And stoop to kiss them, as they glide along. Jasmine, and woodbine intertwined, The snowy cottage walls enfold, Thro' their long boughs the summer wind . Sighs gently as of old ; Glad baby-forms around the threshold cling, And make the welkin with their laughter ring. 22 K\ \I.I\K. There is one other lowly mound, Within the churchyard, calm and loin-. A poor, forsaken bit of ground, That no one cares to own, A few neglected flowers around it blow From a twin grave there planted long ago. Blow softly, Wintry Winds, above That weary, sorrow-stricken breast, That outlived every human love ! Mar not his solemn rest ; The peaceful Evening of his Day of strife, For Life to him was Death, and Death was Life. ***** Oh ! dear delicious South ! how fair Thy orange bowers, thy olive groves, Thy deep blue skies, thy sunny air! Who loves not thee naught loves ; The Angels sang for joy when thou wast made, God's smile is on thee yet thou canst not t'ailr. KVALINE. -23 Oji Baiae's bright enchanted shore, There is a little lonesome grot, A toppling ruin, white and hoar, O'er-canopies the spot ; Ivy and creeping things a wall have madr, That clothes it ever in a dreamy shade. The deep clear waters of the bay, Bluer than Heaven, kiss its base, The rippling of their waves, alway With music fills the place ; Crystals, and dropping seaweeds, passing strange, Entwine the walls, and o'er the vaulting range. Around in mournful state arise The buried city's hoar remains, In softened strains the south wind sighs, Amid the ruined fanes, While the dark myrtle, and the flowering bay, Lend grace to Death, and beauty to Decay. 24 KVALINE. Here far from kindred far from all (Meet tenant of the peaceful scene), That could the bitter past recall, Dwelt gentle Evaliiu ; Upon the threshold, rudely carved in wood, The hallowed sign of the Redemption stood. Within there rose a little mound, A cross upon the mound was hid, To mark that it was holy ground ; What human flower decayed Amid this tranquil loveliness ? What breast From the World's cares had found so sweet a rest ? A Mother's hand that grave had made, With stifled cry, and bitter moan, Uttered in secret, and in shade, Marked but by God alone ; In the dense masses of her golden hair, Her infant limbs she wrapped then laid him thnv. EVALINE. 25 And with him every joy, and strife, And hope, that bound her to the sod, She buried too, then vowed her life As consecrate to God ; The tears of blood that bathed her nameless Dead, Were the last drops her eyes on Earth might shed. Then forth in confidence and faith, With cross in hand she went where'er The cry arose of woe, and death, Of misery, and care 'Mid fever gaunt, and madness' fiercer thrall, Naught could her spirit quell her heart appal . As balmy winds that healing leave, As summer rains to parching dell, As dropping dews of kindly Eve, Her gentle presence fell ; Men called her "Angel" saw around her head, The light of other worlds already shed. 26 LVAL1NK. \\Yiv tin-re no times, the bitter I'a-t Hose like a phantom to her gaxe, A basilisk, to scare and blast The quiet of her days ? When haunting memories, fatal to her peace, Cried with a wailing voice that would not cease ? " Oh, blessed days and dreams of yore ! Oh, golden years of love and truth ! Oh, Father, country, mine no more ! Oh, husband of my youth ! Oh, vain, vain longing for the rest that none On earth may know the Dead have rest alone ! " Such times there were but brief their stay, The wounded spirit cried " How long ? " And seraph voices seemed to say, " Poor struggling soul, be strong, The night is waning fast the Dawn is nigh, Far off we see the rose-clouds in the sky." PART IV. ONE tranquil Autumn Eve the sun Had sunk in clouds of amber hue, And still his golden glories shone 'Mid Heaven's deepening blue ; Star after star stole forth its guard to keep, Like Angels' eyes that watch o'er Nature's sleep. A dreamy calm was in the air, The wind's light murmur was not heard, . The vine and olive moveless were, The waters were not stirred ; The clouds were motionless, and the broad bay, A sea of rainbow hues, unruffled lay. 28 i:\ \i.i\i.. The jH'aceful beauty of the hour Sank on the soul of Evaline, With soft'ning and ci>ii>oling power . Rose many ;i bytrone scene To memory's vision, of the Home that lay Beyond the shadowy mountains, far away. l)ear forms that Death had long laid low Seemed floating round a loving hand. Clad in the raiments white as snow Of the far Spirit-land ; To her rapt view, each golden cloud that streamed O'er the blue sky, was fraught with the Redeemed. O'er Nature's dark'ning face o'er Hea\< n. She saw the Armies of the Blest, The countless Hosts of the Forgiven, Ascending to their rest ; 'Till lost at length, in shade- of gathering night, A shown- O|'M!\'I-\ -tar> brake on her sight. EVALINE. 29 Then to the shadow of her cave, She meekly turned, to kneel and pray ; Upon the little flower-strewn grave The glancing moonlight lay ; Softly she murmured " Never unto me May'st thou return, but I shall go to thee." The cold grey shadows gathered round, A light breeze kissed the placid Deep, That with a sad and mournful sound Waked from its charmed sleep ; The last faint rose-hue faded from the sky, And all was dark, save the All-seeing Eye. She slept, if slumber could be deemed That fixed suspension of the breath, More like some spell-bound trance it seemed, Or temporary death ! What solemn visions, mystical and dread, Scared peace from sleep, and quiet from her bed ? 30 EVALINE. She saw the pallid moonshine grow More dazzling exquisitely bright, 'Till Earth and Heaven, in one glow Of white and blinding light, \\Yre flooded o'er her wrapt eye seemed to scan Beyond the stars, that glimmered pale and wan. And voices, like the rushing Wind, And many thunders deep and strong, The whirlwind, and the storm combined, Pealed all the Spheres among In awful concert joined with one accord, " Holy, and Just, and True, how long, O Lord ?" They ceased and rose before her sight, A mountain-range some grey and hoar, With ice, and wasteless snow, were white ; And some, all mantled o'er With olive forests, and the dropping bine, Breathed but of Human trust and love Divine. EVALINE. 31 One darker, mightier than the rest, Plunged in the skies its cloven brow, A lurid flame enwreathed its crest And tinged the clouds below; While seething fire-tracks, desolate and wild, Twined its scorched heights whereon no verdure smiled. Mile upon mile, till far away In space and Ocean lost, there rolled The billows of a mighty bay, All robed in moonlight cold, And on its shores, a crescent city showed All white and glittering, as a silv'ry cloud. Street upon street, tower upon tower, And palace proud, and stately spire, And statued court, and trellised bower, Glowed in that pallid fire, That glory beam, she heard the fountains play, And saw ascending high, their starry spray. KVAI.I \ I . Jiut as she jra/rd, o'er Heaven tin-re fell A -iiddeii shadow, and the Heaved with a deep, and troubled swell; Pale phantoms seemed to flee Thro' the dense air, while girded with the storm, And robed in Darkness, rose an Awful Form. Fierce lightnings round his pathway played, And fiery pillars 'neath him bent ; A gleaming rainbow crowned his head, And spanned the Firmament; Before the glories of his brow divine, The stars grew dark, the moonbeams ceased to shine. He passed the Anirel of the Lord, A moment o'er the City bowed, Then smote it with a flaming sword: A cry so long, so loud, Ne'er rose before to the Eternal Throne, (A thousand death-shrieks gathered into one.) KVALINK. 33 As that, that roused her from her trance; She waked what sounds were in her ear? The rippling water's gentle dance, The soft wind's soughing near, And low, sweet voices that went murmuring by, " The rose-clouds gather fast, the Morn is nigh." PART V. THE moruing mists rolled cold and white, In phantom shapes o'er vale and lea, A lonely Woman on a height Washed by the hollow sea, Far 'neath her feet a crescent city showed In the pale twilight, like a spectral cloud. And 'neath the wan stars' fading beams The blasted mountain reared its head, Its dark sides wreathed with fiery streams, And vapours lurid rod While morning brightened on the valleys low, Black night hung looming on its awful brow. EVALINE. 35 There were the mountains hoar and grey, The green and village-dotted vales, The rolling waters of the Bay Alive with snowy sails, The vine-clad hills the silv'ry olive woods, The church-crowned heights, and convent solitudes. A dreamy stillness brooded round, No hum, no voice, the city gave, No murmur, save one mournful sound, The beating of the wave ; What thoughts were her's, lone wanderer on the height, What scenes prophetic swam before her sight ? How yearned her spirit for its rest, Its promised rest of peace and love ! As yearned above the watery waste Unto the Ark the dove ; Or, as one dying upon arid plains, That dreams of dropping dews and balmy rains. 36 i \ \ I I \ i Not earthward must she turn or shrink, Yet mingled not in her deep prayer ; The cavern on the Ocean's brink, The Angel watching then-, Whose large fair wings a crystal glimmer shed, About tin- pillow of the. Infant Dead ? She meekly clasped the Cross she bore There stole a whisper o'er the sea ; " Come on, upon the Spirit-Shore Thy Sisters wait for thee ! *' Come on ! Divinely Led ! before thee gleams The Promised Land, the City of thy dreams. The morning mists have passed and fled, The sun pours down a blinding heat, la it a City of the Dead ? No busy tramp of feet, No voice, no sound of teeming life to tell, But the deep booming of one solemn bell. EVAL1NE. 37 The Sun shines on, a blinding red, And round the Church-doors opened wide, In groups, the Dying and the Dead Lie huddled side by side ; The air is thick with parting sotils their cry Goes ever, ever, upward to the sky. The palace gates stand open, there The beggar hides his sinking head; Its halls are tenantless, though fair, The owners all have fled ; " Fly ! fly ! " How fast the curse speeds on behind No time to think of mercy kindred kind. The sun drops down in clouds of flame, Around the brooding shadows swim ; But night and day are all the same, Night brings no rest to Him, The Dread Destroyer, on his unseen way, Night brings no hope, would God that it were day ! 38 EVAL1NE. The priest grows weary at his prayer Dies on the ear the ghostly hymn More faint the funeral torches glare, 'Till all is dark, and dim, And hushed save that one thrilling, bitter moan, The low death-wail, that ever crieth on. Who moves amid the ghastly scene, Amid the storm a blessed calm ? Whose low, soft words and looks serene Fall on the soul like balm ? Who shrinks not from the foul and tainted breath The lazar-touch the loathsomeness of Death ? Go on, thou meek and quiet One, Each death-drop that thou wipest now, Shall shine as God's resplendent Sun Hereafter round thy brow ! Each parting blessing breathed by dying men, Shall be an Angel's song to greet thee then. ***** EVALINE. 39 A chamber in a palace-home, A nuptial chamber gay and bright, With richest webs of rarest loom, And costly Art bedight ; Softly the silvery moonbeams glance and play O'er Hashing gems, and flowers, and rich array. A stately chamber, as beseems A noble Bride, so pure and fair : The Sun with his own glory beams Hath dyed her golden hair, And the deep azure of the Autumn skies Dwells in the tender depths of her sweet eyes. She lies upon her Bridegroom's breast, One round, white arm around him thrown, The other in his clasp is pressed - } But, oh ! no voice no tone To tell of love the Blessing, and the Blest ! Look on her pale blue lips why speak the rest ? I \ \ll\l. Anil he he, too, is dying fast, Forsaken in his palace-home; His mind hath wandered to the Past ; What mocking visions come? What scenes forgotten faded Memories Tlir ghosts of buried yeais around him ri>e ! How fast the phantoms come and go, Ami pn-ss upon his fevered brain ! What long-hushed voices, faint and low, Fall on his ear again ? There by his side his stately Father stands, With mournful, loving eyes, and folded hands. lie wanders 'mid his native hills, With her, his first, his early Love ; He hears the music of the rills, The soft wind's sigh above ; Her long rich curls are streaming o'er his arm, Rain on his check her kisses soft and warm. KVALINE. 41 A white-thatched cottage in a vale, An old man watching at the door, From dewy morn 'till Even pale, For her who comes no more ; Oh, Man ! remorseless ! Spirit unforgiven ! That patient look shall drive thee back from Heaven. A rushing river, deep and strong, Whose waves are foul and black as sin, Above around, they heave and throng, And all his breath draw in ; And ever 'mid the roar and tumult wild, A prayerful voice a woman's Angel mild. What stands between him and the Night ? 'Tis Evaline his early love ! Around her shines a glory light, The light of worlds above ; It is no dream her kisses, soft and meek As summer showers, are raining on his cheek. 42 i. \.U.IXK. "Oh ! shall our Hlessed God forgivt E'en those who hung His Son on tree ; And shall I nought to thee forgive, Who art a part of me ? Ah, me ! how fast the Life within him dies ! Oh ! Claude, beloved ! bless me with thine eyes ! " She wipes the death-dews from his face, That gather there so strong and fast ; Their lips meet in one long embrace, The purest, and the last ; A sudden shadow veils the moonlit room, What Awful Presence moves amid the gloom ': Nought sees she clear of shape or fonn, A something undefined and vast, A blackness like the brooding Storm In Autumn skies o'ercast And on her shrinking breast a hand of bone, An icy touch, that chills her heart to stone. EVALINE. " Glory to Heaven," her wan lips say, " Glory to Heaven," the rose-clouds dawn, They crimson all the twilight grey, And brighten into morn ; Deeper, and deeper yet, till all the skies Glow in the purple light of Paradise. And see in raiments white as snow, And brows star-wreathed a loving band, They call her with their voices low Unto the Angel Land ; Their voices low and tender : " Sister, dear, The dreary night is past, the Morn is here. " Rest, weary Soul ! for never more 'Mid storm and strife thy path shall be ; Calm dwells upon the Spirit Shore ' There shall be no more sea ! ' No cloud shall dim thy skies, no tempest frown, Thy sun shall no more set thy Moon go down." PART I. A SPRING-TIDE morn with beauty rife, The gorgeous sun a halo threw O'er all that waked to light and life, And robed them in a hue Of warmth and golden glory, till they shone With a bright tenfold gladness scarce their own. 46 M \DKI.ON. A time when sweet and holy thought Within the chastened soul hath birth, Breathing of peace and calmness fraught With more of Heaven than Earth; When this fair world and the bright skies above, Proclaim aloud to man his Maker's love. All things the shape of gladness took Music was in the wind's low sigh, In the quick rushing of the brook, That danced right merrily ; And rustling leaves sent forth a pleasant sound, And all was melody above around. Sweet sounds more eloquent than words, Rang out from groves and waving woods ; A song of joy from countless birds, In their green solitudes ; And children's laughter on the soft breeze borne, From glowing fields rich with the rising com. MADELON. 47 And fair wild-flowers of every hue Put forth new beauties to the sight, Yet drooped and laden with the dew Of the past starry night ; And some to which that night had given birth, Looked forth for the first time upon the earth. A Bridal morn ! the marriage-bell Sends forth its blithe and pleasant tone Wake, Echo, wake ! in mossy dell The woodland still and lone ; Wake, Echo, wake ! thy mystic voices round, 'Till the warm-scented air is rife with sound. The whispering youth, the blushing maid, The fair child with his face of glee, The hoary-haired, the matron staid, Are here to welcome thee ; Then forth, young Bride, weep not thy home to leave, His love shall shelter thee why dost thou grieve ? 48 M \DKION. No darkening cloud hangs oYr tin now, Bright sunlight glitters o'er thy path ; The Bridal wreath is on thy brow, Tones such as Love's voice hath Fall on thine ear fond arms around thee fold What thoughts are in thy breast ? what fears untold ''. Think'st thou of voices that no more Shall greet thee in thy stranger-home ''. Of dear, kind voices, that of yore Were ever wont to corne In pleasant muster round thy household hearth, To soothe thy every grief, and share thy mirth V Think'st thou of her, whose fair, mild br<>\\ Hung o'er thee in thy childhood's d;i\-. Who taught thee first thy knee to bow In holy prayer and pr;n-< ': \\ rcp'st thou she is not here her child to hi. M, And share with thee thy tearful happiness ? MADELON. 49 Droop not ! sure none could gaze on thee Thy fair, slight form thy bridal guise Thy gentle smile so sweet to see Thy deep blue pleading eyes Thy timid look of trusting tenderness, And feel not thou wast formed to love to bless. There is a murmur, soft and low, Of broken voices, sweet yet sad, " Heaven's blessing, maiden, with thee go," They weep, who'd fain be glad, 'Tis o'er take her, young Lover for thine own, Sound blithely, Bells. Alas ! poor Madelon ! PART II. IT was a calm, still Autumn eve, The red sun 'mid his clouds of gold Yet lingered, as though loth to leave That village lone and old, Though light, fantastic mists were stealing on, And the pale stars were rising one by one. His touch yet lingered on the trees, That waved their shadowy arms aloft, And answered to the wanton breeze In murmurs low and soft ; A crimson glow unto the streamlet gave, And bathed in golden hues each tiny wave. MADELON. 51 Sweet sounds were wafted from afar, The child's light laugh the village hum, Yet scarcely could the stillness mar, So faintly did they come ; Blent with the tinkling of the sheepfold's bell, Borne on the gale from many a mossy dell. The old church wore a pleasant look As o'er it the last sunbeams brake, With cheerful caw the glossy rook, A parting glance to take, Perched on its ivied tower, so worn and gray, Ere to his far-off nest he winged his way. No well-carved stone here reared its head The cypress, like a funeral-pall, Waved its dark boughs above the dead, And they were nameless all ; Nor needed they the aid of sculptured art, Whose names were graved in many a human heart. 52 M \DKLON. The clear, pale moon is throned on high, The birds unto their nests have flown The cool night-winds sweep freshly by Yet lingers Madelon ; Nought breaks the stillness that now reigns around, Save her light footfall on the dewy ground. A sound ! was it his footstep ? No ! 'Twas but the echo of her own, She to her weary couch must go Deserted and alone ; Yet he had met her once, and old thoughts o'er His cold heart rushing clasped her as of yore. But few brief months had sped and flown, Since fondly proudly by his side, His loved his beautiful his own He'd led her forth a Bride ! But heaviness untold, and secret tears, Had wrought upon her brow the work of years. MADELON. 53 Alas ! the deep and heavy grief That slowly wears the heart away, To which the night brings no relief, That shuns the light of day, And masks itself in smiles, like flowers that wave Above the gloom and darkness of the grave. To lade a bark with all we love, And launch it forth 'neath sunny skies, Then see the clouds grow dark above, And the black tempest rise, The scathing lightnings leap wave after wave Dash o'er, and we all-impotent to save. To hear the voice most dearly prized, Most cherished, most beloved of all Watched, listened for on all beside In gentle accents fall As once it did for us, in times of old, Frame for our ear alone harsh words and cold. 54 MADELON. To see the stern and loveless eye Watch day by day our hopes decay, All we have deemed reality Pass like a dream away, To find the light we've followed from afar, A meteor false our sun a falling star. To see our hopes in ruin laid The sunlight of existence gone ; To feel that we have been betrayed, And still and still love on, Hoping all daring all, for its dear sake, Oh ! these are things that crush the heart not break ! All these were hers yet still she strove To veil from all her wretchedness, With smiles of fond and anxious love II IT aching brow to dress; Nor ever murmur from her sweet lips brake, But low and pleasant were the words she spake. MADRLON. 55 Alas, young Bride ! thy cheek's rich bloom Must fade, thy fair head droop in vain ; Thy sun of hope hath set in gloom, It ne'er may rise again ; Smile on with thy soft smile so sweet and sad, It smites upon the heart thou seek'st to glad. Hope on for what may never be ! The love that thou shalt know no more, No gentle arm shall circle thee As once it did of yore ; No loving breast shall form thy pillow now, No warm and glowing kiss light on thy brow. Heed not the jest, the sarcasm rude, Go, strain thine infant to thy breast, Lone partner of the solitude That he hath rendered blest, For in thy bitterest moments thou hast smiled With joy to clasp the Father in the child. MADKLON. His soft cheek ou thy bosom prest, Dream thou of joys that ne'er may be, Of days of sweet and blessed rest That thou may'st never see. Morn in her golden veil is stealing on, He comes not yet. Alas, poor Madelon ! f> PART III. NIGHT, lovely Night ! her veil had thrown O'er the still earth, the heavens on high, The stars stole forth all one by one Gemming the quiet sky ; Their pale rays shadowed in the stream, that bound By mossy banks, sent forth a silvery sound. All things were robed in moonlight pale The star-crowned hills the dark green woods The nodding grove the quiet vale And forest solitudes The fading flower, and that of one hour's birth, That drank for the first time the dews of earth. 58 MADELON. And sweet, low sounds alone were heard, The light wind floated gently by The dark leaves by its soft breath stirred, Made pleasant melody, And shook the gathering dew from spray to spray, That flashed like gems beneath the moon's chaste ray. Night, tranquil Night ! when solemn thought And feelings high to man are given, Breathing of happier worlds, and fraught With less of Earth than Heaven j When Nature tired in calm and stillness lies, A holy hour the Sabbath of the skies ! Night, solemn Night ! when those long wept, The loved the mourned the missed of yore, Wake from the sleep they long have slept, To visit us once more ; And lips that long have mouldered 'neath the clay, Cling to our own as though they'd cling for aye. MADELON. 59 Within a chamber dark and lone, There sits a form so worn and wan, The grave might claim it for its own God bless thee, Madelon ! An unseen form is hovering round thee now, His darkening shadow falls upon thy brow ! The worm lies darkly 'neath the bloom That dyes her thin and hollow cheek, Consumption pale decay and doom Lurk in its hectic streak ; The light of other worlds is o'er her shed, Yet of the Living numbered with the Dead. Thoughts that the dying only know Are hers a sad and solemn band And gentle voices soft and low, From the far Spirit-land, Around her float ; sweet tones to memory dear, Long hushed and mute, are stealing on her ear. 60 MADELON. Dear faces long forgotten how With Angel-smiles, they round her glitU-, Gigantic shadows o'er her bow Strange forms are at her side ; Vast and unearthly shapes, and phantoms dread, Stalk by her shrinking frame with noiseless tread. None nigh to dry the starting tear, With kind caress or gentle word, To soothe and calm her spirit's fear And he her bosom's lord ; Alas ! her head is bowed, her eye is dim With weary watching, the long night for him. Where lingers he ? amid the crowd To hope, to sense, to feeling lost, Where lust, and vice, and revel loud, With their foul, baneful host, Inflict on human hearts that throb and live A darker curse than deepest hell can give. MADELON. 61 The moon is down the gorgeous sun Bursts through the twilight grey and dim, In glittering pomp his course to run; On high the matin hymn Ascends from far, a sweet and joyous strain, Nature rejoicing, morn is come again! But hark ! a dull and heavy sound The muffled tread of many feet Breaketh the holy calm around : Wildly her pulses beat ! She lists ! her thin and bloodless lips apart, The worm already busy at her heart. They pause, and cross the threshold now, She cannot stir, but trembling stands, Her aching head and throbbing brow Clasped by her icy hands ; She sees the still and shrouded form they bear, Nor question asks, she feels that Death is there. 62 MADELON. Gone to his long and silent rest To the unknown bourne lone and dim, Far from the fond and loving breast That ached to pillow him ; 'Mid riot wild, from sin and guilt unshriven, To meet his God unblest and unforgiven. The cold, calm loveliness of Death Its awful, statue-like repose ; The smile unbroken by a breath, Whose very beauty throws A chill on living hearts, she sees one cry Bursts from her lips of bitter agony. The sole, most cherished link is riven, The last that bound her to the sod Rest for the weary is in Heaven, Then, Spirit, to thy God ! Her thin white fingers wander o'er his brow, His breast her pillow, all is silence mm . MADELON. 63 There is a spot so quaint and lone, So quiet in its loveliness, So shady, calm, and moss-o'ergrown, So formed to soothe and bless ; Twould seem that from the realms of guilt and fear Sweet Peace had flown and found a haven here. Here strife and clamour never come, But soft, low sounds alone were heard ; The faint and far-off village hum, The carol of the bird, The leafy music of the ancient trees, The tinkling brook, the murmur of the breeze. One lowly mound one lonely grave Is there in golden verdure drest, The fairest flowers around it wave, As though they loved it best ; As if the loveliest blossoms did arise From gentlest hearts, and holiest sympathies. 64 MADKLON. The setting sun around it throws His last faint beams of golden light, And o'er its calm and deep repose The stars keep watch by night ; Life's toil is o'er her weary task is done, And she sleeps well. Alas, poor Madelon ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, LEGEND OF THE UNTERSBERG. There are many romantic traditions and legends attached to the mountains? in the neighbourhood of Saltzburg. One of the most beautiful is that of the Untersberg, in whose mysterious caverns, according to popular belief Charle magne (Karl der Grosse) and the Emperor Charles V. repose in a magic sleep, from which they will awaken and come forth, when Germany, restored to her pristine fame and glory, shall again form a United Empire. I STOOD upon the Untersberg, one dreamy summer even, The sun was sinking down in the hazy, purple heaven ; A calm was in the air, like the peace of souls forgiven. And dimly in the distance the hoary peaks arose, The mighty Alpine chain, white with everlasting snows, Whose wild, untrodden haunts, God their Maker only knows. 68 LEGEND OH THK UNTEKSBKKC. There hung a soft and tender haze of ever-changing hue, Sweet rose-tints blending strangely with faint unearthly blue O'er all the lower hills, where the piny forests grew. And far beneath ray feet, touched with pale and pearly light, Uprose the rocky Miinchsberg, its castle-crowned height And sister-summit, capped o'er with convents hoar and white. And nestled in between them the ancient city * lay, A crimson sunbeam tinted its church-spires tall and grey, And streaked the rapid river rushing wildly on its way. O'er swelling fields of waving corn, and meadows rich with hay, O'er countless gardens dotted o'er with chalets white and gay, That filled the smiling valleys, shone the dying light of day. The lowing herds of cattle, their homeward -path way trod, The fireflies spangled o'er the flower-enamelled sod, The soughing winds and streams sang their Vesper Hymns to God. Saltzhnrg. LEGEND OF THE UNTERSBERG. 69 The peasant sate before his door, to pass the hour of rest, And kissed the laughing faces that nestled to his breast, And humbly as he did so, the Gracious Giver blest. But as I gazed upon them a sweet and charmed breeze Came sighing perfume-laden thro' the lofty forest trees, That all my spirit lapped in a soft and dreamful ease. The landscape faded slowly, in cold grey shadows thrown, 1 saw the mighty peak open wide its hoary crown, And sank within its depths down, a thousand fathoms down ; Down sinking, ever sinking, in silence and a^one, Thro* darkness ever deepening, 'till to pitchy blackness grown I heard the rushing torrents in their hollow caverns moan ; Down sinking, ever sinking, I heard the waters knock, And wildly beating ever, their prison-house of rock, Whose granite walls re-echoed the fury of the shock. 70 LEOEND OK THE But ever thro 1 the darkness I saw the pallid gleam Of stars in depths of ether and every shining beam As Angels' watchful eyes to my failing sense did seem. Then all tin- vision changing I stood within a cave Whose vault of hanging crystals a fitful lustre gave, As moonshine glimmering o'er the rippling of the wave. And spiry columns tall, of an ever-changing sheen, Bright sapphire, gleaming onyx, and plowing emerald green In endless shapes of beauty round the magic Hall were seen. And still beneath me fiercely, I heard the torrents roar, And saw tin- 1> r\l waves thro' the white transparent floor Of purest alabaster wrought mystically o'er. And side by suit- two masses white as never-melting snov Of smooth and polished rock, wreathed with purple flame \Vliere lay two crow n I'M! shapes locked in deep and still repose. LEGEND OF THE UNTER8BERG. 71 With closed unmoving eyelid with fixed, suspended breath, With folded hands unstirred by the massive chest beneath, And calm unchanging smile all Death's stillness without Death. I knew those princely brows whereon Truth and Justice reign, I knew those stately traits that all loyal hearts retain, I knew the Fifth Great Karl Imperial Charlemagne. The Vision slowly faded in shadows cold and grey, And Spirit-voices sweetly to my spirit seemed to say, " Yet dimly thro' the night, gleams the promise of the day." JOSEPHINE AT THE FOUNTAIN. In a remote Tillage of BwiUertand. there exist* A fountain whose waters gush forth at uncertain intervals. It it called by tie peasants the " Wishing Fountain." The legend runs, that if the fountain play* immediately after a wUh hM been formed, the request will be granted. It is reported that the Km|>reM Josephine spent a whole night by the side of this fountain in the raia hope of seeing its waters play. THE Sun yet lingering in the West, In gold hath robed the sky, Light clouds in hues of purple drest Are sailing slowly by, Stars, o'er the dark hill's grassy crest Are rising silently JOSEPHINE AT THE FOUNTAIN. 73 O'er darksome glen, o'er waving wood, The mild moon palely glows O'er the dim forest's solitude Night's sable shadows close ; Scarce doth a sound of Life intrude To mar the deep repose. The lowing of the far-off herd, The clear brook rushing by The sweet note of some hidden bird, The light wind's gentle sigh 'Mid trees and flowers that faintly stirred Scarce murmur in reply. The rippling of some hidden stream, The river deep and clear Tones, like the murmurs in a dream From the dim forests near, Sounds that make stillness deeper seem, Alone fall on the ear. 74 JOSK1MIIXK AT TIIK FOUNTAIN. The peasant's day of toil is o'er, He to his rest hath gone, V< t by that rock, so dark and hoar, Lingers that lonely one, With pah-, sad features, that no more The glad smile brightens on. Her white hands o'er her bosom laying As the big tears start, l'.\. r ever ever praying Heaven might change his heart, , lita\y words her pale lips saying "Oh God ! 'tis hard to part." And still beside that pebbly bed, It is her bitter lot, To watch with bowed and weary head For that which cometh not ; No stream save those her eyes may shed, Hut burning on the >peaccful Eve ! the red and gorgeous sun Hath set in beauty in the curtained West, His course of blessing and of glory run, All Nature sinks to calm, and holy rest ; The pale moon mounts her studded throne on high, And bathes in silv'ry tints the quiet sky. Sweet things are here the dark and leafy woods, Hy elfin bright or fay-feet trod alone, The stately forests' ancient solitudes, i all their store of birds and flowers unknown, Green shady haunts the fountain lone and old, W here many ;i tale of passion lias In-en t<>|h warm breath falls softly on my cheek : I hear its harbingers breathe forth their vows, In the deep shadows of the waving boughs. " All things of gladness tell the stars above Look down in paly splendour and rejoice, The lone green woods send forth a song of love, The dark and rushing streams lift up their voice ; O'er earth o'er sky there breathes the same sweet strain, Nature rejoicing, ' Spring hath come again.'" " Oh ! it is hard to die so young, so loved ! In the dark land of silence to sink down, From love from joy from hope alike removed, Where all things are forgotten and unknown, The dank cold earth my pillow and my bed, No kindred, save the pale and mouldering Dead. MURMURING. 79 " Is it thy hand, dear Mother, that is prest So gently, on my cold and aching brow ? Oh, let me let me lean upon thy breast, Strange shapes and forms are floating round me now, Dim shadows gliding in the moon's pale ray, And spectral hands, that beckon me away. " And Thou, best loved I feel thy hand in mine, Thy gentle voice falls sweetly on mine ear ; I feel thy loving arms around me twine, Thy lips kiss from my cheek the falling tear, Low words thou breathest telling unto me How blest we once have been and yet might be. " Oh, cherished hopes of Youth oh, dear day-dreams, Sweet days of yore come back to me again ? Ah ! worse than vain no star of hope there beams Through the deep shadows of this night of pain ! " Hush ! solemn voices whisper in reply " Seek peace in Heaven/' Oh God, I cannot die! RESIGNATION. EVE, tranquil Eve ! the red and gorgeous sun Yet lingered in the deep empurpled West, While thro' the gathering i\\ -ilight grey and dun, Rose slowly o'er the dark hills' Brassy crest The pale and solemn stars. The soft wind swept The cheek like balm Nature one Sabbath kept. Eve, starry, tranquil Eve ! the hour of hours For sweet and holy thoughts of peace and love, When for a space is lent this world of our's The dreamy beauty of the worlds above ; A holy presence seemeth nigh all Earth Ii