THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES POEMS OP PAST YEARS, BY JAMES PARKER. Chance notes struck from the lute— fancies and thoughts, L. E. L. JOHN MENZIES, EDINBURGH; DAVID ROBERTSON, GLASGOW; AND TILT & BOGUE, LONDON MDCCCXLII. TO WILLIAM CAI^IPBELL, ESQUIRE, WHOSE EMINENCE AS A BRITISH MERCHANT, ALONG WITH HIS ESTIMABLE QUALITIES OF MIND AND HEART, JUSTLY ENTITLE HIM TO THE HONOUR AND RESPECT OF HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS, THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY HIS MOST OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT, THE AUTHOR, 785493 CONTENTS. The Betrothed, Spring, Sonnet The Haunted Stream, Beloved ! when I am Dead, To Egeria, The Orphans, Stanzas to , The First Primrose, The Sky-Lark, Mary, .... My Spirit turns to thee, A Dream, Sonnet The Evening Breeze, Sonnet — Noon, The Frozen Stream, Fancies in a Church- Yard, Morning, Sonnets The Lady's Confession, Threescore Years and Ten, The Sabbath Bell, Lines, Page 13 19 . 23 24 . 26 30 . 32 35 . 39 42 . 44 47 . 51 52 . 53 55 . 59 62 • • . 64 67 . 72 via CONTENTS. Page Dirge, ..... 73 I think of tiiee, .... • • 75 Remorse, .... 78 To- Morrow, .... • . 81 Sonnet, .... 84 The Wild Bee's Flight from Land, . ^' 85 The Aspen Tree, 88 Song, ..... • • 91 Good Night, .... 93 Stanzas, ..... . 95 Song, ..... 99 It is not Love, .... . . 100 Forsaken Girl's Song, 102 To the Stars, .... • • 104 Sonnet, 106 Stanzas, ..... . 107 Lines on looking over some Old Letters, 110 Sonnet Summer Morning, . 113 To a Lady, with a copy of " Heath's Book of Beauty," for 1833 — Edited by Miss Landon, 114 To , ..... • • 117 A Farewell, .... 120 Sonnet Summer Wind, • * 123 A Reverie, .... 124 The Flower in February, • • 129 Sonnets Autumn, 131 The Past, ..... • * 133 To Her I Love, .... 137 CONTENTS. IX Page An Invocation to Sleep, • . . . , 140 One Look from thee, ..... 143 Song, ....... 145 Vernal Thoughts and Feelings, . . . .146 Jane, ....... 150 Life, . . . . . . .151 Sonnet. — To Dugald Moore, Esq., Author of " the African," and other Poems. — 1833, . • . .155 Sonnet — To the Rev. Thomas Brydson, Author of " Pictures of the Past," &c. . . ~ . . 156 A'Contrast, ....... 157 The Wish, ...... 163 A Confession, . . . .' . . 165 Night, ....... 169 To a Primrose in a Church-yard, . . . .173 Stanzas written in November, .... 176 Thou art gone to a Fairer Clime, . . . .179 The Emigrant's Farewell, . . . .181 Snowdrops, ...... 184 Impromptu, ...... IBS To in Absence, ..... 190 Sonnet A Smile, . . . . .193 The Mariner's Song, . . . . .194 Sonnet to , ..... 196 Sonnet — On " The View of Loch Fine under the influence of a Storm."— Painted by Horatio M'CuUoch, Esq., . 197 Bonny Mary Graeme, . . . . .198 A Farewell to the Lyre, ..... 200 ERRATA. Page r,l, line 10, for " With," read " While." Page 91, head line, /or " s.vow," read " song." Page 124, line 7, for " present," read "future." Page 171, lilies 11 and 12,/or " hour affords," read " hours afford." POEMS. POEMS. THE BETROTHED. They loved eacli other fondly, a young pair — And one — the girl — was exquisitely fair, With deep-blue eyes, and wreaths of sunny hair ; And of all gentle gifts her mind had its own share. And kindly thoughts and feelings dwelt within Her heart ; and, on her face, it might be seen That heart was pure, as though it ne'er had been The sanctuary of aught imbued with moi'tal sin. 1 4 roEMS. And he — the other — sterner of the twain — His spirit, like a steed witliout the rein, Was free and fearless ; and the restless main As easily might brook the power of check or chain. A compound strange was he of good and ill — Of better feelings, warring with a will Wild and impetuous as the mountain rill, Wlien the autumnal floods its rocky channels fill. A noble youth ! the light of poesy Flashed out in every glance of his dark eye ; And all tilings beautiful in earth or sky Held with his soxd a bond of secret sympathy. And o'er his wayn^ard soul the gentle power Of that sweet gu-1 came, like a vernal shower, Or the rich dew, that, in the evening hour, Fills with its crystal gems the weary thirsting flower. THE BETROTHED. 15 It came — that gentle power — and for a wliile He basked him in the sunshine of her smile, And found in her a chai'm which could beguile The houi's that intervened from weariness and toil. They loved each other fondly ; and years passed, And each that came seemed brighter than the last : Their life was like a sky no cloud o'ercast, Or a bright sea o'er which there swept no angry blast. She had no wish, save one she strove to hide, — Yet her heait owned it, though her lips denied : And still it struggled with her maiden pride, — A longing for the time when he should call her bride. That thought — that deeply cherished thought was crushed, Like a red rose with summer beauty flushed ; Like a red rose on which the wind hath rushed, Strewing its tender leaves untimely in the dust. 16 POEMS. Tlieir sky Avas changed — it seemerl no longer bright ; The morning brought no more its Avonted light ; And deeper fell the shadows of the night, And, like the rainbow's beams, their treasured hopes took flight. Like stormy clouds that diirken as they roll, A spell of fatal influence o'er liim stole ; The gaming table and the midnight bowl Beheld him sinking fast beneath their cursed control. And when, at intervals, the mood was o'er. Deep was the penitence his bosom wore. Like the returning prodigal, before The threshold of his fond, forgiving father's door ! But, as it oft returned, he could not brook, In her dim eye, the merited rebuke ; He could not beai* to read, as in a book, Tlie deep corroding wo whereof her soul pm'took. THE BETROTHED. 17 And, reckless grown beneath that sinful spell, He left his home, and her he loved so well : Oh ! language is without the power to teU The anguish of that hour which saw their last farewell. He left his home and liis betrothed bride, And, with no gentle star to be his guide, He wandered o'er the deserts lone and wide. And braved the wild vicissitudes of wind and tide. And all the vanished past ! — it came to him Like floating fragments of a blissful dream, — Like sunsliine on a dark and rufiled stream. Or the pale wavering of the fitful meteor's beam ! And she — the lady of his love — she pined 'Mid the spring wreaths wliich her own hands liad twined ; All mortal hopes departed from her mind. And in a fairer world her thoughts were all enslu'ined. b2 1 8 POEMS. Yet, ere her spirit burst its mortal chain, She prayed for him — tluit wanderer o'er the main- She prayed, even to the hist, yet all in vain, That she might see him once — ^but only once again ! He came — an aUcred man— across the wave ; He sought his love — they led him to her grave ! His latest aspiration was to crave That his last sleep might be in the same narrow cave. SPRING. 19 SPRING. I. The Spring is hovering now, With fragrance on her wing, And smiles upon her svinny brow — The Spring, the glorious Spring ! And, in her flight, she showers Upon the longing earth Soft dew, to nurse the sleeping flowers. Till they awake in mirth. II. The icy spell is broken That held the world in chains. And not a lingering trace or token Of its chilling power remains. 20 POEMS. Boreas hath sped away Across the ocean foam, O'er frozen wave and iceberg grey, Back to his polar home. III. The forest's deepening shade Is fill'd once more with song, And echoes fi-om each swelling glade The joyous notes prolong ; And, like some whisper'd tale, Or love's first timid sigh, The fresh and fragrant southern gale On noiseless wing sweeps by. IV. ■ Upon the meadow's breast The daffodil is blowing. And, like the stars in evening's crest, Its golden flowers are glowing ; SPRING. •" '■ And the pale primrose blooms Deep in tlie solemn woods, Enriching with its young perfumes The leafy solitudes. V. Oh ! is not this the hour Of gladness and of glee ? The butterfly is on the flower, The bii-d upon the tree ; And from its mossy cell Comes forth the merry bee, To revel on each opening bell That blooms upon the lea. VI. The sun's reviving ray Laughs on the gushing streams, As o'er their pebbly beds they play. Exulting in his beams. 22 roEMS. All nature is awake, And her many voices sing O'er dewy hill and shining lake, The Spring, the glorious Spring ! THE HAUNTED STREAM. 23 SONNET THE HAUNTED STREAM. A MELANCHOLY music ever flings A spell of softened sadness o'er the place ; A sound caught from the plaintive murmurings Of a small stream the eye can scarcely trace 'Mid the thick woods. 'Tis said the place is haunted, And peasants, passing by in midnight hours, Have heard a strain of moiu"nful music chanted Where shadowy woods, and interwoven bowers. Are thought impervious to mortal feet ; Though I believe it not, — and rather deem 'Tis but the hidden stream, which doth repeat. In that deep solitude, its midnight hymn : Yet o'er my mind sad fancies ever float Whene'er I wander near that lonely spot ! 24 POEMS. BELOVED! WHEN I AM DEAD. Beloved ! when I am dead, Oh ! do not weep for me in festal hours, When through the glittering dance thy footsteps tread On mimic flowers ; Nor, by the blazing hearth, Wlaen mingled voices swell in sinless glee — Oh ! chequer not that hour of holy mirth With thoughts of me ! Beloved ! when I am dead. Think not of me in bright and verdant bowers, When the full pride of summer's noon is shed On all its flowers ; BELOVED ! WHEN I AM DEAD. 25 When the rich rose's breath Is caught in every aspiration, there ; When the laburnum's bloom illimiineth The glowing air ! For, 'midst the festal glee, By the glad heai-th, or where the roses bloom, No spirit, love ! would sympathize with thee In kinched gloom. But, where the low sweet strains Of winds and waters, blended with the sound Of village echoes, borne from distant plains, Are breathing round ; If there tliy feet should rove. When twilight dimly falls on flower and tree. Oh I then, my first, — my last, — my only love ! Remember me ! 2G roEiMS. TO EGERIA. ■ Egeria ! sweet creation of some heart Who found no mortal resting place so fair As thy ideal breast." Byron. Oh ! would that I could dwell with thee, Nymph of the fairy -peopled dell ! "VVliere sacred founts, in melody, Are trickling through thy sparry cell ; As when, of old, in moonlit hour, A regal lover sought thy bower. TO EGERIA. Would I could gaze upon thee now, In some green solitary place ; — Thou of the sunny hair, and brow Wliich more than mortal beauties grace j "Would that, upon thy heaving breast, My yearning soul were rocked to rest ! Would that thy voice, more musical Than forest bird or mountain stream. Upon my raptured ear might fall, Beneath the twilight shadows dim ; Would that thine eye — though brighter far- Might gaze upon me like a star ! Oh ! 1 have wooed thee where the woods Ai-e thickest ; in their central shade, Where seldom human foot intrudes To break the stillness of the glade ; But thy sweet glance hath never shone To cheer me as I wandered on. 28 POEMS. The visions of the ancient day, Beneath the ruthless hand of time Have faded, one by one, away, Nor live, save in the poet's rhyme — A golden glory lingering yet, Although the sun for aye hath set. No more the reeking altar burns — No more the votive hymn is sung, WTiere wine was poui'ed from sacred urns, And warm blood from the victim sprung ; The pipe of Pan is hushed, and all The laughter of the bacchanal ! No more, amid the rustling boughs. The Dryads hold their moonlit dance. Where Satyr's uncouth visage throws Upon their feats an amorous glance ! But, lonely now is every scene Where all their revehy hath been. TO EGERIA. 29 And tliou, Egeria ! with the train, Hast vanished from the eyes of men ; No traces of thy steps remain By storied brook or haunted glen ; 'Tis only through the mist of years, Thy form of waning light appears ! c2 30 POEMS. THE ORPHANS. But yesterday their mother's forai, in funeral array, Was carried forth to mingle with a husband's mouldering clay ; And lone and friendless are they now, two infants, fair and free, As ever shared a mother's kiss, or climb'd a father's knee. Upon the flowery bank they sit — beneath its verdant breast Their parents, sleeping side by side, in cold commimion rest; Yet, all unconscious of their loss, the orphans prattle there, Contented with the flowers around — as innocent and fair. THE OKPHANS. 31 The past hath faded from their thoughts, or half-forgotten lies — No pictui'es of futm-ity amid their dreams arise ; The present hours are rife with flowers — they sigh for nothing more ; — The world, with all its mysteries, they seek not to explore. Tlie trace of tears, but lately shed, is lingering in their eyes, But smiles are following on their wake, like sunshine in the skies ; Their sorrow is forgotten, while their eyelids still are wet, — So lightly is the seal of grief on infant bosoms set. And pleasantly — ah ! pleasantly — they sit in childish play, Too lone and beautiful they seem in this cold world to stay ; All ! better far to wither in the glory of their spring, Than live to taste the bitter fruit maturer age will bring ! OS. 2 POEMS. STANZAS TO I. 1 MEET thee still in festal halls, A gay and glittering thing, lliy fairy footstep lightly falls In pleasure's magic ring ; And where sweet sounds and odours rest On the volui)tuous air, Oh ! lightly beats thy careless breast, Amid the gay ones there. 11. And smiles are wreath'd upon thy brow, But all for me in vain ; Their light is unavailing now To win my heart again : STANZAS TO . 33 As soon the wounded bird may soar Aloft on broken Aving, As soon the summer's breath restore The blighted hopes of spring. III. I hear thy witching melody Breathe forth in many a lay, As o'er the harp-strings, gracefully, Thy soft white fingers stray ; And, like the scent of wither'd flowers That breathes of sunnier skies, Perchance some tones of liappier hours May on the chords arise ! IV. Tlie well-remember'd strains may break Upon my heart the while, And in its secret folds awake The memory of thy smile ; 34 POEMS. But only for a moment, tliere, The soothing power may hist, Even as the meteor's sudden glare On the gloom of night is cast ! THE FIRST PRIMROSE. 35 THE FIRST PRIMROSE. " We say that people and that things are changed ; Alas! it is ourselves that change: the heart Makes all around the mirror of itself." L. E. L. O PALE and lovely flower ! Earliest and best-beloved of tbe bee ; In sunshine or in shower, Albeit thou com'st in sadness or in glee, My spirit poureth forth a vernal hymn to thee. Thy leaves are fresh and green. Unsullied by the glare of summer skies, And the fresh dew between Their j uicy folds in gem-like beauty lies. 36 roEMS. Tlie Avoofls arc lighted up "With lo\^e and beauty from thine opening bloom ; And from thy golden cii]> The wind receives a welcome of perfume. Each bursting blossom hath A gleam of stars, upon the mountain's brow : In childhood's breathless path, Oh, what a recompense of deep delight art thou ! In boyhood's merry day Have we not sought thee through the shady glen, And o'er the sunny brae. And found thee there ? Ali, we were happy then ! We who were gathered round A once bright hearth — now desolate and lone ! And seemed to have been bound Together by strong links of love that made us one. ^THE FIRST PRIMROSE. 37 But who are severed now, By chilling forms experience since hath taught — Blighting the early glow Of feeling that awoke with each awakening thought. Oh, many a spring hath passed Since first around my steps thy smile ai'ose ; And Autumn, with its blast, Hath changed as oft again the fields and forest boughs. But thou, bright, starry flower, Art still the same ! Time hath not altered thee, As in that vanished hour. Thy presence is a sign of joy to me. Oh ! that the human heart Could, like thy root, yield blossoms aye the same ; And, in ripe years, impart Thoughts pure as those in infancy that came : 38 roEMs. That may not be : — life's spring Cometh but once ; yet even in their decay Its withered flowers will fling Their odour round us in a later day. Thus, pale and lovely flower ! Earliest and best-beloved of the bee ; In sunshine, or in shower. Albeit thou comest forth in grief or glee, My spirit still shall breathe its vernal hymn to thee. THE SKY-LARK. 39 THE SKY-LARK. FuLL-breasted harbinger of eai'ly morn ! That, like a wandei'ing spmt, flutterest up Amicl the still blue skies of summer, borne From some deep fm-row, where the butter-cup, The daisy, and the violet, have shed Their dewy tears all night, above thy lowly bed. Sweet-throated minstrel ! thine own element is In regions yielding not to hiunan sway ; Where man hath no dominion, where the breeze Mocks his vain efforts to resist its play ; Where the clouds sail, in sUent beauty by — There thou art journeying on triumphantly ! 40 POEMS. I see thee far above me, floating free From each encumbrance that might check thy wings ; Thou hast no sin — no sorrow ; unto thee Memory and IIo])e alike tu'e useless things : — Each summer morning brings thee new delight, And sweet forgetfulness returneth with the night ! I hear — and there is rapture in the sound ! — The warm outpourings of thy happy heart ; Like melodies from some sweet prison unbound, Through all the air the quick vibrations start, — Till gushing in a tide of joyous song, Continuous and clear, the music flows along ! Where art thou gone, strange emulative bird ? Thy tiny form hath melted from my sight, And thy rich music is no longer heard Of aught below. Is thy transcendant flight To teach proud man a lesson ? — art thou gone In the Immortai^'s ear to breathe an orison ? THE SKY-IiARK. 41 Eacli hath some path of bliss. 'Tis thine to soar, Bearing to heaven's gate thy melody ; The wood, the vale, the gorgeous garden bower Laden with bloom, the brook that murmurs by — These charm thee not, for thou hadst rather be In the blue vault above — companionless and free ! d2 42 POEMS. M A R Y. I WATCHED thy fairy form in infancy Expand in beauty 'neath a mother's eye ; I dreamed not then that thou couldst ever be Aught but a child to me. I mind, of okl, in the long summer day, I loved to see thee at thy childish play : A spell of deeper, yet of gentler power, Came with a future hour. I watched the bud unfolding hour by hour, Unconsciously, tiU it became the flower ; I knew, then, thou wert altered ; and I knew That I was altered too. MARY. 43 I loved thee ! ere I knew it, friendship grew A name too cokl — a holier radiance threw Its influence o'er the altar of my heart Love only could impart. I loved thee ! — long concealed within my breast, (Like miser's gold, disturbing all his rest,) The secret lay — 'twas whispered only when I knew I was beloved again. 44 POEMS. MY SPIRIT TURNS TO THEE. I. My spirit turns to thee, dear one ! . My spirit turns to thee, Even as the weaiy setting sun Reposes on the sea. The toils and cares of busy life Awhile may fetter me, Yet fondly, love ! from all their strife, My spirit turns to thee ! II. The pleasures of the festal board, — The song, the flashing wine, To other bosoms may aiford The joys they yield not mine : MY SPIRIT TURNS TO THEE. 45 Though chained with gold, the prisoner Will languish to be free ; So, from the revel's fitful glai-e, My spirit turns to thee ! III. The swallow, from a distant land, Returneth with the spring ; The wave that ebbs from off the strand, The tide will backwaa-d bring ; The evening, from its airy flight Eecalls the wandering bee ; Even so, my beautiful — my bright ! My spirit tiu'ns to thee ! IV. The moon behind the clouds awhile May veil her looks of light, And for a season, love ! tliy smile May vanish from my sight ; — 46 POEMS. Yet, as the Aveaiy setting sun Reposes on the sea, From distant scenes, beloved one ! My spirit tiu'us to thee ! A DREAM. 47 A DREAM. " I had a dream that was not all a dream." Byron. In the deep slumbers of the night A dream of bliss came stealing o'er me, And thou wert pictured in the light Of all thy loveliness, before me. Thy smooth fair brow — thy lip of rose — Thine eye with April beauty beaming ! And smiles upon thy face arose, In sunny radiance, in my dreaming ! And raven hair was gracefully Around that snowy forehead wreathing, And tones of thrilling melody Forth from those rosy lips were breathing ! 48 POEMS. It seemed as if the evenin"; light On wood, and hill, and stream descended ;- A shadow of aj^proaehing night With day's dcpai-ting glories blended : And fragrance sweet, from leaf and flower, Was floating on the air aroimd us : Tlie linnet sang within the bower. Whose overarching gai-lands crowned us. I gaz'd on thee, my own dear one ! In deep and silent adoration. And fairer vision never shone In Poet's liveliest creation ! My lip was pressed to thine — I felt Thy bosom's quickening emotion. And blushes on thy features dwelt. Like moonlight on a summer ocean ! A DREAM. 49 I felt the pressure of thy hand On mine its gentle warmth bestowing, And tokens love could understand In every look of thine were glowing ! It was a scene from memory, By fancy's power, in sleep, relighted ; — Tliat gorgeous summer evening sky — The time — the place — ^the vow we plighted. It was the first — the only vow Our hearts had framed — om" lips had spoken ; And faithfully and fondly, now, The truth it told is kept unbroken. My visions of the midnight hour Are ever haunted with that meeting ; And spells of deep and blissful power The treasur'd words are still repeating : 50 POEMS. And till a day of brighter beam Thine absent form, deai' one ! restore me, I bliss the hour when that sweet dream Of love and thee comes stealing o'er me ! THE EVENING BREEZE. 51 SONNET THE EVENING BREEZE. A BREEZE amid the heavy woods of June : A cool, fresh breeze, that from their slumbering boughs Hath shaken off the silence and repose, The overpowering heat of summer's noon ! A soft, sweet breeze ; and, on its viewless wing, It hath a wealth of dew — a silent shower — The boon which evening yields the drooping bower ! A stir is heard, a gentle whispering Among the clustering grass ; as if each flower, With its reviving bloom, rose up beneath The holy influence of the evening hour. Had music mingled with its fragrant breath. And murmured to the bee a fond good night, To cheer the rover in his homeward flight ! 52 POEMS. SONNET NOON. Silence and sunshine — chequered light and shade Are on the air, and in the gorgeous wood, In the deep hush of noon ; throughout the glade No sound is heard, save the impetuous flood Roai'ing continuously from afar ; Its never-silent thunder almost seems Like Silence even itself; and doth not mar The quiet tenor of those waking dreams That crowd the fancy in that listless hour. There is no bird afloat on all the air — No freshening wind to lift the weary flower That droops its head beneath the noontide glai'e ; And the far vessel, riding on the deep. Seems like a babe upon its mother's breast — asleep ! THE FROZEN STREAM. 53 THE FROZEN STREAM. Oh ! where is the music, thou gentle stream, Thy tones awoke in the woodlands dim ? SUent and still are the sweet sounds now, Chain'd in fetters of ice and snow ! Oft in the summer my feet have paced Along the course which thy windings traced, As free from care as the bee which di'ank From the peai-ly flowers that graced thy bank ! But the bee that swept o'er thy glancing wave Is sleeping now in its winter cave ; And the glorious flowers on which it fed Their leaves in the autumn's blast have shed. e2 54 POEMS. Then why should I mourn for thy song of mirth 'Twould strangely sound o'er the altcr'd earth ! And, 'mid the ruin of leafless bowers, Seem but the echoes of happier hours ! Yet spring will listen again, sweet stream ! To the welcome sound of thy fairy hymn ; And the summer's gentle breath, once more, To thy banks their wonted bloom restore. Would — ah ! would that my heart, like thee, Could thus from its sorrow again be free ! But the ice is there too dense and deep Ever to burst from its frozen sleep ! lb FANCIES IN A CHURCH-YARD. 55 FANCIES IN A CHURCH-YARD. " Our life is but a meteor gleam Lit up amid surrounding gloom, — A dying lamp — a fitful beam, Quenched in the cold and silent tomb. " I. There is a sad, a solemn bond That links the living with the dead ; — A voice that whispers from beyond The path oiu- mortal footsteps tread ; And even in hours of lighter mood, Like clouds upon a summer sky, The warning voice will oft intrude That teUs us wc must die ! 56 POEMS. II. But when our dearest friends depart, "With their kind looks and cheering smile, Ah ! then, in lieaviness of lieart, We ponder o'er their loss the while ; And when their lifeless forms are laid Beneath the sod, where all must lie. The thought assumes a deeper shade, That we must also die ! III. The church-yard is a fitting place O'er fancies such as these to brood ; Though lettered stones are aU the trace Throughout this silent neighbourhood Of many a one within whose breast Life's pulse was bounding warm and high, Yet, from their lowly place of rest, They tell me I must die ! FANCIES IN A CHURCH-YARD. O ( IV. I start that, 'midst this mass of claj, I am the only breathing thing, — The only one o'er whom decay Hath failed to spread its dark'ning wing : And many a one reposes here Who shared my sports in infancy ; — Tlieir voices echo in mine ear Tliat I must also die ! V. Yet 'tis a soothing hope that blends "With that low, sad, mysterious tone — The hope that our departed friends Unto a happier home have gone ; — That, when life's pilgrimage is o'er, Our chainless souls may soar on high, To meet our long-lost friends once more, Where we shall never die ! 68 POEMS. VI, Oh ! would that warning voice could teach The current of my thoughts to flow To that high world, beyond the reach Of mortal sin or mortal wo ! Then might I walk in safety here, And all my sad forebodings fly ; Then might I meet without a fear The hour that I must die ! MORNING. 59 MORNING. " The morn is up again — the dewy mors, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom." Byron. I. Slowly in the east the morn is breaking, Night her shadowy cui-tain hath withdrawn ; — Nature, from her sleep, is now awaking Joyously, to welcome forth the dawn ! From beneath a weight of dew upspringing, Flower on flower is opening to the day, And among their leaves are gaily winging Insects bright and many-hued as they. 60 POEMS. II. From on liigli, tlic lav'rok's note comes stealing Like some fairy strain ui^on the ear ; And the blackbird's matin-song is pealing Louder — deeper, in the woodlands near : While the sun's full tide of gold is falling On the face of lake and running brook, Laughing — dancing — singing — loudly calling Human hearts to study nature's book ! III. Is the Avakening of this fair creation Shrouded from the eyes of us alone ? Must the Poet's rife imagination Picture things that else were all unknown ? Surely no ! — the Being who hath blended With our souls a portion of his own, Wlien all nature wakes, hath ne'er intended Man, and' only man, to slumber on! MORNING. 61 IV. Then, arouse ! start from your leaden slumber ! Ye who love to woo the morning's kiss : Care and sorrow never would encumber Spirits that coiAAfeel a scene like this ! Let all lingering traces of your sadness, With night's gloomy shadows, pass away ; And, with bosoms fiUed with mirth and gladness, Wander forth to welcome in the day ! (>2 POKMS. SONNETS THE LADY'S CONFESSION. I. I NEVER asked for words of thine to prove Thy deep — thy fond affection unto me ; — I long had marked it, and an answering love Slowly awakened in my heart to thee. — My watchful eye could read it in thy glance, That ever brightened up when I came neai- ; And if my hand met thine amid the dance, The start — the flushing cheek — ^Iiave told how dear My presence was to thee : and stUl, though nought Came from thy lips to warrant such belief. Yet my quick ear, unknown to thee, hath caught The secret sigh that gave thy heart relief, And upon mine its stolen echoes fell — Revealing the fond truth thy lips were slow to tell. THE lady's confession. 63 II. At length it seemed as if a spell were broken, And silence from thy lips unloosed her chain, And words ai'ose — such words as then were spoken I ne'er had heard,— I ne'er shall hear again !— My bosom beat with imcontroll'd emotion. Whilst thou, in whispers tremulous and low As the faint wind that stirs the aspen bough. Breathed forth the tale of long-concealed devotion ! 'Twas only, then, I knew the depth — the force — Of that lona; love, which silence covdd not hide ! — Strong as the mountain torrent in its course, And gentle as the flowers that grace its side ! 'Twas then, and only then, that thou didst know My heart was thine alone, with all it could bestow ! 64 POEMS. THREESCORE YEARS AND TEN. " Life's vain delusions are gone by, Its idle hopes are o'er; Yet age remembers, with a sigh, The days that are no more." SOUTHEY. I. Threescore years and ten ! — ^tliey have departed With a speed no power could check or stay; And the early friends with whom I started On life's morning journey — where are they? — Yeai' by year upon my path they faded, Never more on eai'th to meet mine eye ; And I know that, where their forms are shaded, In the sUent dust, I soon must lie ! THREESCORE YEARS AND TEN. 65 11. Threescore years and ten ! — to my young dreaming, What a boundless prospect they appeared ; — Life seemed a cloudless sky, beneath whose beaming Many an early flower its blossoms reared : But the shade of passing years hath banished From the sky its loveliness and light ; And those spring-flowers, one by one, have vanished, Leaving only traces of theu- blight ! III. Tlu'eescore years and ten ! — ^how few and fleeting Unto retrospection's eye they seem, As it linger's o'er the past, repeating Many a fondly cherished — faded dream : Yet, how heedlessly we ever wander. Unresisting slaves to passion's sway : — Vainly — oli ! how vainly do we squander The most precious gifts of life away ! f2 66 POEMS. IV. Yet there is a balm for every sorrow — Soothing still, while mortal hopes decay ; Like the dawning of a brighter morrow, 'Mid the ,shadow.s of life's closing day : And though clouds of doubt and fear may hover Round our souls, when the dark hour is nigh, Yet the eye of faith can well discover Tokens of that glorious world on high ! THE SABBATH BELL. THE SABBATH BELL. " Like some memorial song, That will not leave us when we walk among Old scenes — although they whom we prized of yore, Now live or haunt those blessed spots no more." Barry Cornwall. The Sabbath bell, the Sabbath bell ! It pealeth loud and clear ; And thoughts within my bosom swell, Of many a vanished year : It hath a music all its own — A voice in its peculiar tone, That whispers in mine ear, Of days when, in my native deU, . I heard it first — the Sabbath bell ! OS POEMS. Tliat valley, with its waving woods — Its waters flashing free — The bank whereon our cottage stood, Beneatli the linden tree ; The wild-flowers that, in beauty, there, Unfolded, in the summer air. Their treasm-es unto me — All — all ai'e Avakened by the speU That lives in thee — sweet Sabbath bell ! A chui'ch is there, Avith turret grey — A venerable pile ; And ever on the Sabbath day We met within its aisle ; — A mingled group, and sweetly, there, The song of praise — the voice of prayer. Arose to Heaven the while — For young and old within that dell Assembled with the Sabbath beU ! THE SABBATH BELL. 69 And many a stately yew-tree cast Its shadows deep around, To tell,the stranger that he passed O'er consecrated ground : A chui'ch-yard — solitary place, ^Yliere thousands of the human race Their last repose had found — Unbroken by the sounds that feU From each succeeding Sabbath bell ! J'riends of my youth ! your faces gleam Before me in the night: As when we roved by wood and stream, Ye mock my dreaming sight! And she — ^the loveliest of all ! — Tlie dews of evening coldly fall Above her form once bright: Yet still her whisper seems to dwell Jn that sweet-soundin