THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES M'^f.'x^ami^sx^M/i.rtmss^MSimm^rss^r \ THE A TONGAEN TRADITION, 3fn ttD0 Cantos. AND OTHER POEMS. 'Jc|eO^ BY MISS^HINDMARSH. ainluick : PRINTBD FOR THE AUTHOR BY W. DAVISON. 1818. PREFACE. It is generally thought necessary to assign a motive for giving publicity to poetic effusions, written for the purpose of private amusement. The author of the present juvenile productions candidly afknow- ledges, that fier reasons are not of the most important nature. She might urge the desire of friends ; but that convenient retreat of vanity, interest, or other latent motives, at present affords neither shelter nor concealment. The lynx eye of criticism long ago penetrated the shade, and brought the trembling culprits to open shame ! The tradition related in Mr. Mariner's account of the Tonga Islands, though a love tale, Ls of no com^ won nature. It possesses, in a considerable degree. vl PREFACE. the charm of novelty ; and has many circumstances of touching interest attached to it. Indeed it is ex- quisitely adapted for the subject of a Poem ; and if the attempt to render it in that form has not entirely failed^ the plain and very brief, though interesting narrative, must become doubly pleasing through the medium of versification, and the occasional aid of fictitious colouring where the original appeared im- perfect. The author dare not presume to say, that she has attained in her poetic relation, that rarest of all the graces of style simplicity ; yet she may confidently observe, that the simplicity of nature is in no respect violated .by the studied phraseology of art, or cari- catured under the garb of modem affectation. Feenou is a lover, and a child of Nature, in one of her remotest islands. Unacquainted with the trick, or disguise of artful refinement, his sentiments must flow in the genuine language of simple affec- tion, or he will not be the lover of a South Sea PREFACE. vii Island ! But, however the Poem may be executed, it must be read as the production of eighteen, and judged accordingly. The author has frequently been surprised to hear persons of the best sense assert, that to publish poetry inferior to the effusions of a Gray, or a Thomson, (not to mention poets of higher fame,) is justly en- titled to the name of presumption. Allowing this to be just, how many shall be found guilty since the grave shrouded these distinguished luminaries ! And shall a Campbell, a Montgomery, and a Scott, blush for the folly of presumption ? Forbid it, justice, taste, and candour ! The author, without the slightest intention or wish of bringing Aer.TC^into the scale of comparison, considers the idea extremely illiberal and erroneous. The Eagle flights of genius, amid clouds and storms, astonish and overpower us ; but who has not felt the peaceful soaring of the Lark a thousand times more pleasing ? The song of the Nightingale is ex- viil PREFACE. quisitely melodious, but none on this account would chase, (of humbler note,) the Linnet and the Black' bird from our woods and vales ! Pursuing the metaphor vn fenlhers , few will cotisi- der the Mocking: bird an emblem of himself; yet, perhaps, the greatest bard has unwittingly mingled d horrorvcd note in his own delightful strain. And should the mimic propensity be disroverable in any part of this unprcfenditig volume the chariluhle will believe the author when she asserts, that she hat always endeavoured to look into nature with her own eyes, and to consider every subject with an effort of lier own mind. But the sentiments and descriptions contained in books float in the memory, and sometimes so indistinctly and vaguely, that they are mistaken by Jf/^partiality for original conceptions. It has been mentioned to the author as matter of surprise, that so many of her pieces (being juvenile productions) should be tinctured with melancholy. PREFACE. ix Allowing that no personal motive exists for this dis- position, can a mind of any sensibility or reflection, look around on the scenes of misery daily exhibited, and accumulating in awful increase, without a con- genial impression? Does not the sparkling eye of pleasure involuntarily grow dim with tears, and the breast of careless gaiety acknowledge itself capable of melancholy reflection? The tolling of a bell an- nouncing in solemn accent the departure of a fellow- creature, naturally leads Melancholy to twine the cypress round Fancy's bower. But when the mind considers the nature of the exit, and the impenetrable mystery in which its future state of existence is shrouded, this feeling arises to sublimity ! Besides, when the joyous spirit is on the wing, who can expect it tamely to alight and trace its feelings on paper? It is only in our sohor hoars that poetry becomes an amusement. Though possessing little ambition, and still less vanity, the author considers it but just to say, that niany of the detached pieces were written at the ag^ B X PREFACE. o^Jifleen ; and even the more immediate productions of seventeen and eighteen claim a generous exemption from the severity of criticism on the score oi juvenU lity. Maturitj of judgment, extensive observation, and consequently an enlargement of ideas, have not set their seal on the author's talent, therefore decisive opinion must be suspended till that period. And even to pronounce sentence on future productions from the appearance of the present should be done with cau- tion. The juvenile productions of Lord Byron, the first Poet of the present day, excited the laugh of contempt in the world of critics ! ! Perliaps the best recommendation the author can give her poetic effusions, is to say, that they Avere written with the greatest facility. She has too much compassion for her own feelings to sit down and rack her brain for ideas, and too much indolence of dispo-. sition for dragging together line after line by mere dint of force and labour ! Isabella PIindmahsh. ALSWlCK, AprU 50t!i, 1818. CONTENTS. Cave of Hooiiga, Canto 1 17 Canto II 41 To the Genius of the Alii 6l Beauty 67 Stanzas. While mem'ry lives, this hapless daifr8)'c 69 The Nightingale's Song to the Rose . . 73 Sonnet to Music . 76 Dialogue between the Genii of Light, Dark- ness, and Twilight 78 Song. Dear scenes that are past, a long, long adieu, SfC 85 The Lover's Vow 86 The Wail of the Dying 88 The Genius of Nonsense . ..... 91 The Daisy 9^ xli CONTENTS. Fancy g5 Stanzas. // in a scene so cabn, so fair, S^x. ICO Sonnet. The harvest moon arisen in crimson stale, Sfc 1 04) Ballad. (Mary's Grave.) 106 Stanzas. Yes ! there are seasons when the wearied viind, S^c 108 Ballad. Sleep on, my babe ! thy heart ne'er fell,SfC 110 The ^olian Harp 112 To Hope i..ll4 Stanza?. (On the Battle of Waterloo.) . 1 ; 6 Ratrospection 121 The Hero's Grave. (To the Moon.) . . 123 Nun's Song 125 An Address to a Stream flowing at the decli- vity of a hill, on the summit of which stands the Moravian Settlement and Boarding School of Fulneck, in York- shire . 127 Ode to the Memory of Burns .... 131 To Calnmnv ^^^G CONTENTS. xiii SoHg. There is a footstep soft as the thistle down, S^c 138 What is Love? I39 To a Friend 140 Sonnet to a Blackbird 141 The Storm 143 What is Man ? 1 45 Metrical Translation from the French of Telemachus * 146" impromptu, on reading a Poem of H. K. White's 151 Song. Why sinks the evening sun so slow, ^c. 1 52 A Night Scene 154 To a Wild Violet, (on seeing one very early in Spring.) 15(3 Ballad. O lady fair ! the wind is cold, Sfc. J 58 Wandering Fanny I60 A Summer Evening Scene l62 Sonnet. The stream had worn its channel down, 4^c 166 Stanzas. why should man to fancied care, ^S'c 169 lit CONTENTS. Invocation to Spring- 171 A Fragment 173 Song. Maiden ! why that shade of sadness, 4c 175 Lines supposed to have been written liy Char- lottCj on visiting, for tlie first time, the tombofWerter 177 To Envy 180 The Mind's Soliloquy . 181 Song. Of every Jiotver that scents the spring, ^c 185 Days that are gone 186 Stanzas. Can the ray of evening's star, ^-c. 188 The Rose I9I Friendship 192 Sonnet to the Moon 195 Song. When the sunbeam of eve shines through the elm tree, 4 c 1 97 Song. Cease thy dashing, torrent-water, Sfc 198 A supposed Address to Switzerland, by the Spirits of her departed Heroes . . 199 CONTENTS. XV Elegy. If the sick heart, no future balm shall heal, 8fc 202 Sonnet. .' when the gentle summer moon, Sfc 205 Stanzas. Ah bloom not thus ! ye lovely flowers, SfC 206 Written at the completion of the Author's seventeenth Year 207 Sonnet. Ah ! who mould think beneath thai rvaveless sea, 4'C 209 To the Evening Star 210 A Dream . . , 212 An Address to Melancholy, on the Death of the Princess Charlotte 214 Stanza. Have you seen the orb of day, ^c. 217 Stanzas. Why should we say that virtue dies.SfC. 218 The Echo 219 The Touch of Woe 22 1 Thoughts on hearing the Death Bell . . 22'i Songs of the Spirits of departed Flowers Song of the Rose 226 xvi CONTENTS. Song of the Violet 228 Lily 229 , Primrose 230 Wallflower 231 ^ Daisy 232 Chorus of the Flowers . 233 Folly 235 Song. Fancy cuUd the jiorvers at morn, SiC 238 Song. ! why in the midst of luxuriant nature, SjC. . 239 Ballad. At morn in Transylvantan bower, c^c 240 A Thought 243 The world is what? &c 245 A Scene 250 THE CAVE OF HOONGA, A TONGAEN TRADITION. Canto Jfirgt. THE CAVE OF HOONGA. N O fairer Isles, does Ocean's ware Than thine, remotest Tonga, lave; No sweeter shore, or lovelier land. E'er claim'd the Muse's glowhig handi And yet thy landscapes smile unsung. Where nature every charm has flung, From the tall plantain, to the flower That blooms within the summer bower. Land of the Cocoa and the Palm ! Thy hills are fair, thy breeze is balm; Thy vales in wild luxuriance bloom. Rich with the Sandal wood's perfume ; And every dingle, every dell. Says echo here delights to dwell. High on the rocks that crown thy shore. Where winds and waves contending roar. 22 CAVE OF HOONGA. At each loud dash and boisterous gale, Echo returns her stormy liail ! With awful voice responsive shrieks To spirits hovering o'er the steeps; That midnight cry of blood, for blood Still heaving on the conscious flood. * The plough refines the stubborn soil, And makes it bring forth wine and oil; But, ah ! no mortal baud can bind The savage wildness of the mind. Tame the fierce passions of the soul> That spurn restraint and man's control. Yet Tonga boasts her sons of fame. And lauds departed Finow's name; Finow, of mind, remorseless, brave. The tyrant, or the suppliant slave> Dauntless in war, in victory cruel, Unmov'd at tortures, racks, or fuel ; Finow, a Tonga chicfiain, after one of his batttci in the Hapai Is'ands, put all his prisoners t0$Jt3tA^ 26 To catch the well-known Toice and ailk> That did each hour of life beguile. 'Tis madness seeks thee, murder'd babe. In every place but in thy grave, O ! 'tis insanity's deep cry. That calls thee victim doom'd to die. And it has reach'd the Kst'ning sky ! Recoiling from these horrid scenes Of pagan rites and hellish dreams, Where murder on the loathing eyfe Has sprinkled his ensanguih'd die. And fancy bleeds at every pore. Tinted and staia'd with human gore. To prospects of a kindlier hue. The outrag'd feelings turn theit vifeW : O happy England ! thy bless'd Isle Lights up again the extinguish'd smile. Thy peaceful hills refresh the sight. And brace the mind with new delight, For there no altar rears its head ; But o'er yon vale's embossom'd beA D S6 CAVE or HOONGA. The village church in humblest guise. Points with its spire to smiling skies ! No mother here bewails her child, Tom from her arms by zealots wild. The simple school, or rustic play. Allures the truant all the day. But every eve a smiling face, Flies to the mother's soft embrace. Delightful thought ! to fancy's view All nature wears her loveliest hue ; She waves her wand, and, lo .' arise. Hills, vales, and woods, in summer's guise. But still the charm of English ground Is in the peasant's cottage found ; Picture the farm and rural seat. And then the contrast smiles complete. Ill-fated Tonga ! on thy soil No flower of peace repays thy toil ; No smiling home erects its head. But feeling weeps o'er slavery's shed ! And yet the Bard of oral lay Has rescued from oblivion's sway. CAVE OF HOONGA. 27 One record fair, that sweetly throws A gleam of light o'er heathen woes. A flower upon the camag'd field, A smile beneath the pallid shield, A lily at the altar's base. Unsullied by its hiding-place ! O could I bring that little flower With brightest tint from fancy's bower ! Catch the faint smile from distant skies Ere its last ling'ring beauty flies ! FEENOU'S SONG. Now upon the green malai * Maidens in the moonbeam dance, Nor retire they, till young day Lights the mountain with his glance. Chieftains too, with bow and lance. Nodding plume and mantle gay. Sing of fav'rite beauty's power In many a Tongaen roundelay. MaUa U the Tongaen name for lauiit. 28 CATE OP BOONGA. Underneath the plantain's shade. Silence with thy Feenou sits; Not a sound our bower invades. Save the dove that moaning flits. She her twilight station quits To enjoy the moon's fair ray ; Then, my life, my Enna, come. Love is mourning thy delay ! Did I not, when morning slept. Steal her flowers embalm'd with dew ? And has she not with sorrow wept. To see those flowers less sweet than you? Hers are tears of sunny hue From the solar radiance swept ; Then, my Enna, haste, and bring The wreath I twin'd when morning slept. It could not speak, it could not sigh. And tell you all that Feenou feels ; But, O ! your comprehending eye Would read the secret it conceals. CAVE OP HOONGA. 29 To you each blushing flower reveals What jealous power could ne'er descry, Did they not love ? O sure they said, " This evening stray where palms are high !" But, ah ! in vain I tune my reecl. Unless to hopeless love and woe ; My Enna's beauty is the meed Of nobler chief than Feenou Toa ! * Royal power decrees it so Unconcem'd for hearts that bleed : But soon in happy Boolotoo, t Thy love shall smile, from tyrants freed. So often sang the hapless youth ; And nature's strains are those of trulh. Amid the lone uncultur'd Isle Is heard her voice, is seen her smile. Those who are acquainted with CooVi, or other vnyagrs to the South Sea Ishmds, will fiad that the names here adopted are trictly appropriate. t Boolotoo, Happy IMand, or Land of the Dqiartttl. 30 CAVE OF HOONGA. Her altar is the untrodden hill. Her bath the never-tasted rill. Her hiding-place the forest high, Unpierc'd by any human eye. The ocean's cave she loves to roam When winds and waves sigh all alone. Or mount the promontory's height. To view her empire, small, though bright. And should one cloud obscure her sky. No more she's seen by mortal eye ! But yet her temple is the breast By art untutor'd fairest, best. Her sacrifice is not the dove Though emblem of herself, and love ; True bleeding hearts, and faithful sighs. Are offerings which she deigns to prize. And 'mid Australia's fairy Isles Such incense on her altar smiles ! * Why should the tyrant in the slave Man's noblest privilege invade ? It would be the height of absurdity to suppose that the lover's acrifice only, is acceptable to Truth ! the idea merely suits the general colour of the story, and as such will be understood. CAVE or HOONOA. 31 Or why the fancied rights of birth. Disturb our common mother, earth? There is a land where science smiles. In ocean's bed, the Queen of Isles ! There is a land where culture blooms, And freedom's flower sheds sweet perfumes! And yqf that land has veil'd her face And blush'd to see her sons' disgrace- When on the scaffold, or the field The wild demoniac Murder reel'd Drunk with the blood of human breast, For titles lost, or rank possess'd ! Religion too ! where is thy power. Thy awful voice in such an hour ? Say, does the battle's fury drown. Or smoke of arms conceal thy frown ? The trumpet's clang the toil of dying. The victor's shout o'er conquer'd flying ? No ! 'tis the war of pride mithin,^ The rage of conquest's mental din, The laugh of wild ambition's power- In blood triumphant for an hour, S^ CAVE or HOON^A. The glutted malice of revenge, ' Of fancied wrongs the cry, " avenge;" These are the fiends, O loveliest power ! That drown thy voice in such an hour. No more let horror's starting eye. Detest the savage warrior's cry ; The tyrant of Australian Isle, Than Chrislian tyrant is less vile ! The altar drench'd in human gore, No more let Europe's sons deplore ; Unbiass'd reason calls it one. Where'er oblation's act is done. Whether the immolated heap Groan on the altar, Jield, or deep,- Whether 'tis superstitions rite. Or mad ambition's wjc^im-fight, Both are in Heaven's dread eye the same, If difference aught, ours is the shame ! For bright as noon's effulgent ray. Religion points the Christian's way; While not a single guiding beam Illumes the Tongaen's darken'd soene. CAVE OF HOONGA. 33 A chieftain in Vavaoo's * Isle, Who liv'd beneath his country's smile, Had one lov'd daughter young and sweet As the wild flowers beneath her feet. The olive hue alone betray 'd By deepest tint the Tongaen maid. For Europe's beauty might not scorn t Her features soft, and perfect fofiii' A jet black eye of mildest b^m. The Tongaen chieftains lov'd, I ween ; And prais'd the teeth of pearly hue. Her parting lip expos'd to view ; Admir'd the hair of shining black That wav'd in ringlets down her back, Or intermingled with the loaves Of hooni I on her bosom wreath 'd ; Vavsoo, one of he Tonga Islands. t Captain Cook describes many of the Tongaen women |iniifii ing European features, and some of them, iqodab (tf , a pfffiect female figure. f " Let us dress with the chi-coola, and bind our waists with bands of the guatoo ; we will put on coronas of jiale flowers, and necklaces of hooni, to display our sun-coloured skins." See MAaiHca's Account* 34 . CAVE OF HOONGA. Vow'd, when with matchless grace she bound The flowmg robe her waist around, And twisted in her silken hair The plume of crimson feathers rare> A brighter form could not be found In heathen land, or Christian ground. It chanc'd the monarch of the Isle Had brow, unmade to bend or smile i Rapacious, cruel, stem of soul, A tyrant without one control ; Fear'd, though detested, was his sway. But slaves who tremble must obey. A favour'd chieftain next in power Sigh'd for the maid ; O hapless hour ! When * Mataboole brought royal word. That Ottoo should be Enna's lord ! Ah ! who the wayward thought would blamej That trembled at a dearer name, That linger'd e'er life's softest scene, (To her, alas ! a transient dream,) * A king's miuister. CAVE OF HOONGA. 35 When Feenou, handsome, young, and brave, Ask'd for the love she trembling gave. That name could now no longer bless. But added keenness to distress ! A thwarted love, though calm before. Becomes a wave that foams on shore. Back to its bed it ne'er returns. And barriers strong disdainful spurns, Till reason in its boundless flow. And sometimes virtue, tumble low ! Such was the storm in Feenou's breast j A conflict that would know no rest. He shunn'd the glance of human eye. And to the forests deep would fly : The light of day was horror death- It mock'd his grief with sunny breath; The lightning's flash, the tempest's sweep, Seem'd echoes to his sorrow deep ! It chanc'd that to a neighbouring Isle, The monarch and his fav'rite vile 36 CAVE OF HOONGA* Repair'd for duty, or diversion. And meant to take a long excursion ; And when return'd on happy tide, Ottoo would claim his destin'd bride. Some heavenly messenger of peace. To Feenou whisper'd this release. Perhaps it was a pitying dove, * That mourn'd their disappointed love ; Perchance a seraph lingering near. Might breathe the tidings in his ear. No matter what the change was wrought, (Tradition leaves us here untaught,) But sure it seems, that hope agahi Whirl'd her light phantoms through his braia^ For, lover-like, he left the gloom. That wrapp'd him in a living tomb, With bold resolve to know his fate. And brave the monarch's utmost hate. With this intent he hover'd near A walk which was to Enna dear, ThQ woods in Tonga abound with Stock-dovw, CAVE OF HOONGA. 37 (For spies are formidable tilings^ Thrice awful when employ 'd by kings,y And Feenou's bead might dearly prove How much his heart was sway'd by love ! With fix'd impatience in his eye The lover watch'd each passer-by ; But yet she came not, and the sun His golden course had well-nigh run. Swet was the hour of twilight pale. And sweet the dove moum'd in the vale. And soft and low the passing breeze Sigh'd through the bending Cocoa trees i And the night dance of BocHola * Was sounding on the far malai ! But, hush ! a voice more soft and sweet Than music's soul, did Feenou greet. He started at the well-known sound. And through the tangled by-path wound. Till Enna stood in mournful guise. Before his scarce-beliering eyes. * Terdt-Hght dance. 38 CAVE OF HOONGA. " Enna ! my love ! my soul's best part. Dear as the blood that warms my heart. Art thou still mine ? O maiden speak ! Or at thy feet that heart will break !" O ! who in empty words would shew The quick delight, the trembling glow. That ting'd her. olive cheek with red. Or pal'd it when the current fled ; On Feenou's throbbing breast she fell. And wept the love she could not tell ! And here oft met the youthful pair. Their hopeless lot to weep and share. When evening spread her pitying veil. And silence only heard their tale. Dear is the tie that gently binds In love, or friendship, happiest minds. When on life's rose no wind blows chill. But sunshine breathes o'er every hill ; Where flow'rets pauit the morning vale, Unblighted by misfortiuie's hail, And heaven and nature join to bless The shelter'd bower of wilderness ! Cave of hoonga. 39 But dearer far the mournful bliss, When sorrow weeps o'er friendship's kiss. When love's bright cheek is pale with care. And pleasure finds no beauty there; O this is nature's tenderest tie I The selfish feelings shrink and die. Each thought, word, deed, unite to prove That sorrow is the bond of love. Have ye not mark'd the rose's die,-^ Its blush beneath a sunbeam's eye? How bright its hue, how fair its swells Where smiles to fancy's vision dwell ? Have ye not gaz'd with soft delight On pleasure's hue transfer m'd to sight With rapture prais'd the beaming flower, Kiss'd its fair form and left the bower ? 'Tis eve, the rose is wet with dew. It gently weeps to fancy's view ; No longer bright, its drooping head Proclaims the hour of sunshine fled> 40 CAVE Of IIOONGA. While clust'ring leaves impervious close The silent sorrows of the rose ! You stoop, and pluck the weeping flower> As if it e'en had feeling's power. And in your bosom place the tear Which once a smile was banish'd there. So does the mile on beauty's face Oft yield its power to sorrow's grace; So does the sigh, the tear impart A kindred trembling through the heart. The eye that gaily beams around. Swift as its glance inflicts the wound ; Again it flies the heart is whole, 'Twas fancy's dart, Hior reach'd the soul f Canta i^econti THE CAVE OF HOONGA. The hour of love had wing'd its way. Though Feenou woo'd its longer stay. And yet she came not to the bower. Its sweetest, fairest, loveliest flower. The sun had shed his Imgering beam, And bid good night to vale and stream. Though every leaf had woo'd his stay With tears that said, " we love your ray J The stock-dove fleAv from bower to vale In silence to repeat her tale. And chid the meddling echo's moan. That would not let her wail alone ! But echo sporting with her woe. Flits with the bird from bough to bough. The fiill-orb'd moon serenely shone To light the wretched Feenou home. 44 CAVE OF HOONGA. Unmov'd at grief, she coldly smiles Above the earth's tumultuous Isles ! With lightning's speed he pass'd the wood Where disappointment frowning stood. But as he bounded through the glade, A powerful arm his footsteps staid ; A figure mask'd * before him stood. And pointed to a neighbouring wood. In silence they pursu'd their track. Till woods on woods commingled black, '* Now are we safe; the tale I bear " Might not be trusted to the air : *' Our king and Ottoo have retum'd, " And vengeance in their eye-balls burn'd, " A secret messenger was sent, *' To warn them of Laafoog's intent ; " Who in their absence sternly swore " To drink the t Cocoa's milk no more, Many of the South Sea Islanders wear masks, ( or a dress so ludicrously contrived as to answer the same purpose,) not only for occasional convenience, but from inclination, or probably whim. -f It ii a common phrase among the South Sea Islanders, never to drink the milk of the Cocoa out of the shell tiU any thing is performed. CAVE OF HOONGA. 43 " Till death aveng'd his country's woe, " By hurling the oppressors low ! " The plan was form'd with subtle art, " And many a chieftain had his part ; " But treason rent the midnight veil, " And, to be brief, there flies a tale, " That ere to-morrow's sun shall rise> " Laafoog with all his kindred dies ! " Not e'en the flow'ret of our Isle " Another day shall live to smile ; " The daughter in the father's doom, " Will find a dark and certain tomb. " If thou canst save thy Enna, try, " There may be time, fly ! Feenou fly !** The moments flew with lightning's speed. Between the thought and swifter deed. When many an eye was seal'd in sleep. That soon should rest in calm more deep. ** Enna, my love! awake," (he cried,) The midnight breeze responsive sigh'd ; Though frantic terror shook his frame. Again he Ccill'd her tender name i 46 CAVE OF HOONGA. No answer came, and distant sounds Were stealing o'er the midnight ground. This was no season for delay, He push'd the twisted branch away. Love on a moonbeam shew'd the bed Where softly she repos'd her head, And leaping on the matted floor. The maiden from her hut he bore. " Hush, my belov'd ! thy Feenou's arms " Have snatch'd thee from a thousand harm, " What dost thou fear ? O weep not so I " Thy safety's mine thy woe, my woe ; " Then trust my faithful care once more," He said- and hasten'd to the 6hore. And now the friendly canoe glides With lightning's speed across the tides, While cautious love the tale impartS| And sooths as it inflicts the smart. The moon shone on a coral rock. Which mock'd the wave of * Hoonga's shock, Hoonga is a very short distance from Vavaoo, both of which Islands are tributary to Tonga, or Tongataboo, CAVE OF HOONGA. 47 And under its protecting side Did Feenou anchor with his bride; And to her wond'ring ear address'd A fearful wish, and strange request. No lover, since the first-born ray- That wak'd creation's sleeping day To the last moon that heard a vow When bending from heaven's radiant bow- E'er begg'd from maiden, brown or fair, A boon so strange so strange a prayer. " Enna, ray love ! say, wilt thou go " With Feenou to the depths below ? *' And hide thy beauty from the day ** Till safety marks our happier way ? *' Judge me not rashly, Tongaen maid, " Though fear and doubt thy mind pervade; ** But listen to ray tale and smile, " 'Tis true- I swear by * sacred Isle ! *' This mom, when diving, I espied ** A beauteous turtle in the tide ; * Tongataboo means sacred lalc. 48^ CAVfi OF HOONGA. " Long it eluded every art, " Though skilfully I play'd ray part, " Till wearied with the subtle thing *' I made one last, and vigorous springj '* The turtle fled, but smiling fate " Threw me against a cavern great. " I crept into the rocky cell, *' And found it fit abode to dwell ; " The water ripples round its base, *' But ne'er o'erflows the sacred place. " Some god, a friend to hopeless love, ** Sure dropp'd the cave from seas above, *' * Untrod by mortal foot before, " It opens now its friendly door !" t The fearless maid plung'd in the wave> And with her lover reach'd the cave. And here tradition scarcie need tell. He wed the maid he won so weU ; * The cavern can only be entered by diving into the 6e In the widest part it is about forty feet, and ite medium hciglit is sup- posed to be the same. t T'lC women in these I,laii,l4 dive like fish. See Tradition. CAVE OF HOONGA. 49 Or that Leander-like each day The path of love o'er ocean lay ! Mats for her bed the chieftain brought, And richest clothing finely wrought. The choicest food her table grac'd, And love's own hand the viands plac'd. And e'en the * Sandal wood's perfume Shed incense through her sea-girt room. Soft was the light from + ocean's bed. That through the cave a twilight shed ; No sun-ray pierc'd the wat'ry shade. But lucent wave-beams softly play'd ; And silv'ry shells slept in the ray. As bright on coral beds they lay ; And the light drops from cavern's side In crystal sound did sweetly glide : Or gemm'd the sea-weed's vernal hue. Like emerald starr'd with morning dew. All was so hush, that silence e'en Might undisturb'd eiyoy her dream. Sandal-wood oil is used by the women for perAuning them- lelTcs. t The only light in the cave is reflected from the bottom ot the water. Sm TRAmTiON. G ho CAVE OF HOONGA. Or if amid the twilight calm A sound was heard, its breath was balm,- It lull'd the starting nymph to sleep. With noiseless murmur soft and deep. The little echoes faintly sigh'd To waves above, that foam'd with pride. Or wash'd the shore with ahgry sweep Or murmuring kiss'd the lordly steep ;~ But at the magic name of love, Even echo's tongue forgot to move ' She listen'd to the novel sound She started, but no answer found ; For since her birth the ocean's wave Ne'er sigh'd such music through the cave. She lisping tried the mimic strain. But all her efforts prov'd in vain. Love has no echo but the breast Where spotless truth delists to rest ! ) !'}''> in Meanwhile the chief in haste prepar'd Dependants, slaves, all those who shar'd In his protection, power, or smile. To emigrate to Fiji's Isle. CAVE OF HOONGA. 51 So well was plann'd the secret flight. That under shade of friendly night. The chieftain and his followers lay At anchor in Vavaoo bay. All was soon ready, and the sail Flutter'd beneath the moonbeam pale. His followers now with one accord. To take a wife, their chief implor'd ; A lovely maid from Tongaen Isle, Would exile's weary hours beguile ; And Tongaen maids were lovelier far. Than Fiji's daughters train'd in war. With playful smile he wav'd his hand. And pointed to a distant land ; The obedient canoes answering glide With glancing swiftness cross the tide. But now the lover's rock appear'd. And Feenou 'neath its shelter steer'd ; Commanding every canoe's stay. Till from the deep he brought to day, A Tongaen bride of beauty rare. Through life his heart and power to share. 52 CAVE OF HOONGA. Then plung'd beneath the sparkling ware, And bore his love from ocean's cave. The Tongaens haii'd the streaming pair With shouts that rent the moonlight air. Triumphant sped across the tides. Swift as a beam from ether glides ! Not long the Fiji Isles retain'd The youthful pair, thrice happy, nam'd. For death, the tyrant's conquering foe, Soon laid Vavaoo's monarch low ; 'And the dear country of their birth. To them the loveliest spot on earth, Receiv'd once more her children's smile. And joy relum'd Vavaoo's Isle ! But, ah ! the thought is miz'd with care. What sacrifice was ofFer'd there ? What incense to the gracious power That led them through each dangerous hour ? Perchance a thousand lives would flow By knife direct or lingering woe. Perchance the tears that nature shed Might wash away the darker red ! CAVE OF HOONGA. And shall not man o{ Christian name To heathen man his light proclaim Draw from his eyes the tenfold shade ? Oh yes ! the time is but delay 'd. The cloud of future years has roll'd Its misty volume, deep, untold, From extramundane heights that wrap Events to come in fate's dread lap ; O'er time's great deep it hangs suspended. And light is with its shadow blended ! Ye eyes prophetic, fix your gaze, For like the star of Bethlem's rays 'Twill guide you to its destin'd placet See how it moves its form sublime. Big with a mission, great, divine. O'er southern seas it steers its way. Where poor benighted heathen stray. Now fancy turn thy radiant eye. And view from yonder lucent sky The cloud transform'd to golden light, Where all before was shade or night ; O see each concentrated beam Shine on beclouded Tonga's scene ! } 54 CAVE OF IIOONGA. The mists of error disappear. And roll in volumes through the air ; The snakes of hell no longer twine Around the heart's polluted shrine. No longer does their poisonous breath Exhale around despair and death. This is no atmosphere for them. The viper lives but in his fen ! 'Descending from the ambient air Behold a form divinely fair ; The starry crown proclaims her name. And golden clouds support her frame ; Celestial pity bathes her face In tears for man's apostate race. Thrice has she wav'd the olive bough O'er prostrate heathen, sunk in woe. Thrice has entreated every soul To yield his heart to her control ; Then from her bosom drew a book. And with an aw^ful gesture took The volume in her snowy hand, And dropp'd it on the heathen land. CAVE OF HOONGA. OJ " Read this, (she said,) be good, be wise," And vanish'd to her native skies. But see ! on yonder fearful height, A form uprears the flag of night. While livid meteors from her eye Glare on the rocks that round her lie : And ever and anon she waves A lurid torch o'er prostrate slaves. But see, its light is glimmering pale. Hear the mad phantom's dreadful wail. As oft she dips the expiring flame In lightning from her frantic brain ; But every meteor fire that darts With scowling haste her wish ath warts. Hark! 'tis a whirlwind rends the sky. Or was it but the phantom's cry ? 'Twas hers and hell's united shriek. The flame is out ! and from fhe steep She plunges headlong in the deep; The waters wrap the infernal maid In deepest death's eternal shade. Wild superstition's reign is past. And such a calm succeeds her gasp, } 56 CAVE OF HOONGA. As sleeps on those portentous seas. That wait the tempest's death-whig'd breeze. Hush ! o'er the hills strains softly float. Sure 'tis some wandering seraph's note. The very air seems music's soul. And all the clouds sweet numbers roll. Even ocean's wave has caught the strain^ While echo sighs it o'er again. And harps unseen among the trees Sing hymns to every passing breeze. The silent flowers that smile around. And give their fragrance to the ground, With breathless joy and fairy voice. Melodious murmur " we rejoice !" While lucid tears of softest bliss. Their tiny leaves delighted kiss. And now among the deep green trees, A little church the traveller sees ; And sweetly chimes the sabbath bell O'er mountain, valley, wood, and dell. O ! sound that breathes of heavenly peacej Fair harbinger of man's release. CAVE OF HOONGA, 57 Haw does the heart responsive thrill. When thy glad tones swell o'er the hill ! How does the grateful tear confess The praises that are utterless, When mingling with the early breeze Thy music ribrates through the trees ! And seems to whisper o'er again The notes of that seraphic strain. That bless'd the shepherds' wondering ear On Bethlem's plains : O anthem dear ! " To man good-will on earth is ^ven, " The Saviour comes to purchase heaven !" The sabbath bell- the name is sweet ! What magic in its numbers meet ! And, as if beauty fled its sound, A sudden charm the meads surround : The flower with milder colour glows, A sweeter fragrance scents the rose, A brighter verdure paints the green. And hallows all the sabbath scene ! The streams mysterious converse hold, A sacred charm the woods enfold, H 58 CA.VE OF HOONGA. And more than earthly slumbers rest On nature's consecrated breast ! For He that bless'd the seventh day Still smiles upon the Christian's way. This is the magic this the spell That trembles in the holy knell ; And with enchantment all divine. Renews to earth her Eden prime ! Then shaU the Tongaen bard rehearse. The joys of heaven in sainted verse. Then shall his raptur'd muse proclaim A Saviour's love in purer strain ! O ! soon, prophetic vision shine In real majesty divine ; And change illusiveyhncy* theme To that which is no more a dream I MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. iHigcellaneousi ipoeing* TO THE GENIUS OF THE ALN. W HEN morning lights the eastern cloud. And glances pale o'er tower and tree, Where, Genius of the winding Aln, Shall fancy turn to stray with thee ? What happy shade in evening hour Around thee weaves its sylvan bough. When from thy lightly-murmuring lyre Ethereal strains to nature flow ? 62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. What favour'd echo bears the sound O'er vales of Eden-smiling hue O'er swelling meadows flower-enwreath'd. And hills of woodland-crested view ? Where 'neath the rock-impending banks. And shelving woods of verdant head. Thy streamlet wends its silver way Along its willow-border'd bed. Where is thy bower ? O Genius say, '^ot fancy e'en the spot can tell. By beauty favour'd every grove May ask thee in its shade to dwell* If here I say thou lov'st to roam. For nature's richest hues combine, A fairer scene out-glowing this Demands my verse to call it thine I But chief in Huln's sequester'd vale The impress of thy step I trace. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 63 For nature e'en might rear her throne Amid united rural grace ! I see thee crown'd with vernal wreath. And in thy hand the magic bough. That marks thy river's winding course. And points its waters where to flow. I see thee on surrounding cliffs O'erhung with flowering shrub and tree. Delighted view in one wide gaze All beauty of the earth and sea ! There gleams along the extended coast. The broad expanse of waters blue. And frowning o'er each glancing wave The * castled rocks of time-worn hue. Here Cheviot rears his lordly head. And bursts his cloud-enwreathing veil ; * Bamborough and Duiutauborough caitlcs. 64i MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. &o fancy through the mist of years Recals to view the * hunting tale. She hears the bugle horn resound^ She sees the glancing spear upheld. When Percy chief and Douglas bold Amid the woefxil contest fell. Here stand + religion's crumbling towers. That tell of honours pass'd away ; - And distant there the % princely heights Of many a Percy great and gay. What though no more within its hall The steel-clad warriors proudly throng, What though no more to feats of war The harp resounds, or minstrel song j * Chevy ehase the scene of which lay in these mountains, if' we jnay credit ballad authority. t The ruius of Huln Abbey. ^ Alnwick Castle. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 65 Far dearer to the gentle ear The smiling notes of peace resound. Than feudal din, or pomp, or lay Of dauntless temple, helmet-bound. Where hidd'st thou then thy peaceful head, O Genius of the water'd vale ? When morning woke tlie trumpet's voice. And Cynthia gleam'd on plaited mail ? Retir'd to deep embowering glades. Say, didst thou twine the victor's wreath ? Or, to renown and glory cold- Didst thou his lonely requiem breathe P No longer now along thy banks The lurid watch-fire gilds the air. Nor proudly-prancing charger's neigh. Nor sentry's measur'd footstep there ! But all is peaceful, all is still. Save where the linnet pours her lay, I 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Or where the blackbird cheers the vale From early mom to closuig day. And sacred still be thy retreat, O Genius of the Aln fair, No footstep on thy flow'ret tread But which is /)eace-conducted there ! BEAUTY. I THOUGHT her fair, because she smil'd. And sweetly sooth'd my trembling fear ; I thought her fair, when grief beguil'd Her gentle eye of pity's tear ! I thought her fair, when to the shed Of want and care iier footstep turn'd ; I thought her fair, when by the bed Of friendless woe she watch'd and mourn'd ! I thought her fair, O passing fair ! When I the soft detection made, She blush'd and said, she claim'd no share Of merit in the act, or praise I I thought her fair as angel grace When injur'd, and in fame belied, . A transient feeling cross'd her face- She look'd to Heaven the hectic died ! 68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. But when in her traducer's praise Her gentle lip assenting mov'd, I look'd with awe's inquiring gaze- She pointed to a JBooA 'twasjprov'd ! STANZAS. (WRITTEN IN 1816.) W^HILE mem'ry lives, this hapless day To thy remembrance shall be bless'd, This cloud which darken'd life's glad ray. And veil'd thee from my sorrowing breast. Yes, and when each revolving year. This well-remember'd hour returns. For thee shall flow the silent tear. For thee reposing in thine urn I No summer sun and vernal air Mock'd with their smiles our anguish'd griefi No verdant meads, or flow'rets fair. With wanton gayness bloom'd relief; But drear was the December sky, O emblematic of our fate ! When death extinguish'd in thine eye The spark which beam'd with life elate. 70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And oft I think, that on this day Thy gentle shade may leave its home. And hover round the mouldering clay. Which once thy spirit call'd its own ! And when night's deep reposing shade In slumber seals my weary eyes, then in dreams which cannot fade, I see thy heavenly form arise ! Perchance, around my curtain, thou Art then in watchful care employ'd. And breathing o'er my sleeping brow. The prayer which bless'd me ere thou died ! Ah ! when I feel of grief the power. When sickness bows my languid head, In vain I ask thy soothing power. In vain I wish thee near my bed ! And O, at eve, when many a star With trembling radiance lights the sky, 1 gaze upon these worlds afar. With anxious heart and wistful eye. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 71 JFor, O my Mother ! there thy form In heavenly beauty may reside ; Ah ! that I far from life's dark storm. Were happy by thy angel side ! This earth was no fit place for thee. Thy virtues claim'd a brighter sphere^ And ne'er shall earth thy likeness see, Nor ever hold such goodness here. In thee united every grace Of temper mild, of taste refin'd. Religion found her dwelling-place. And O ! that eye proclaim'd thy mind And oft with vain regret I sigh That heaven had me, more like thee made. Or that to guide me thou wert nigh. Through life's bewildering, thorny shade. For O, as through its maze I stray. With heedless step and wandering eye. Without thee I may lose my way In many a path where dangers lie ! 72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Yet O ! no selfish wish is mine, I would not, if I could recal Thy gentle spirit back again. To this our world of bitter gall. To linger out a few more years. Beneath the gloom of earthly skies. Again to shed the burning tears Which misery draws from mortal eyes. Wherever now thy place of rest, I know that happiness is thine ; I feel (how conscious !) thou art bless'd. And can I at thy fate repine ? A few more tears, a few more sighs. May longer mark my lengthen'd day. But soon to thee in happier skies. My soul shall wing its joyful way ! THE NIGHTINGALE'S SONG TO THE ROSE. W H Y bloom 80 near my pensive bower. In radiant beauty dazzling rose ? I love thee not, thou smiling flower, Unfit companion for my woes ! Though poets idly feign and sing, * That thee I woo in blooming spring. When dewy twilights close. A bride too gay thou art for me, And mine is love too sad for thee ! * " "th* nightingale on seeing the rose become* iutoxicated, and loses the reins of prudence, \c' See PbrsUii Fablk. K 74 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. They say thou weep'st but O ! thy tears, Thy silver tears, are those of bliss ! They say thou sigh'st but sweet thy fears, 'Tis when the infant zephyrs kiss ! And when the morn in eastern bower Is painting twilight's paly flower Half hid in weeping mists ; With joy expands thy fluttering breast. That thou shouldst grace her lucent crest. And when I pour m^^ evening song-, I view thee drooping, pensive, mild. With closing eye the flowers among, I almost think thee sorrow's chUd. But twilight whispers through the trees, (For I her fav'rite votary am,) " Beware she mourns the noontide breeze, " And sun, that shews her blushes wild ; " 'Tis vanity that makes her sigh, " She loves me not, of shading eye !" Then, beauteous rose, the tender sigh For thee shall never trembling rise ; MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 75 But violet sweet, of dark blue eye, Shall woo me where she weeping lies ! For her my meltuig song shall flow. In softest tone of lover's woe. When twilight veils the skies. A bride too gay thou art for me. And mine is love too sad for thee ! SONNET TO MUSIC. Heaven- WAFTED sound from lips celestial f When first thy breath sxgh'd in the Eden breeze^ And every zephyr of our world terrestrial Swell'd the soft echo through the roseate trees ; > Since that bright hour, when Seraph voices chanted From the deep crimson of enfolding clouds Man's natal morn, till all creation panted. And mountains, vales, and seas, prolong'd the anthem loud ; Since then, even in our warring world, thy strain Harmonious blends, and sooths, and pours. Its influence peaceful, lightens and charms our pain. And by its magic gilds the gloom of earthly hours. Music, I love thee ! but be mine the song Warbled at eve from the low woody vale, (When slant the hill the moonbeam shadows throng,) Wild, free, and plaintive, as the mountain gale J MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 77 O ! I could listen till the dying wail By fancy's hand embodied, breathes a form. And 'fore mine eyes some long-lov'd, long-lost friend. Flits, smiles, and blesses me, then gleams away. And mingles with the shades that mist the psUe moon's ray. DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE GENII OF LIGHT, DARKNESS, AND TWILIGHT. Scene. An eminence fdntly illuminated by the waning sun, Genius of Darkness. Hail, sunny form ! Come not within mine eye-beam; For its vision keen was made. Not to bear light, but to pierce darkness. Not to sustain, but searching to descry. Thou only dazzlest, for here I view No bright irradiation in thy sphere. , Where is the sim ? Genius of Light. Thy time thou'st chosen well ! For in the midway sky had my proud sire Been tossing to and fro his burning rays, Thou wouldst have fled, swift as the beam MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 7D That blinded thee with bistre ! But look how dignified in lowly majesty He glances through the hedge-rows. And shoots his level beam. Genius of Darkness. And yet the hour of fading glory Seems to him an arch triumphal. Through which he leaves his kingdom, Amid the worship of empuri)led clouds. And mists that hover dropping tears of gold! The mellowing tint of distance veils His brightness, and safely I behold him. Genius of Light. Such is the hero In life's waning day ; the fire Which flash'd upon a world is sober'd To sweet light, and in mild concentration cheers The sphere of home, through many a Lingering day. But mark his parting Glance, wherein all former glory. Beauty, and renown, beam renovated. 80 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And burst upon the world, as heretofore> In one deep blaze^ then sink for ever From the view, but not the heart of man I Turn, thou sable sprite, and view The strain exemplified, The sun bids earth farewell ! Genius of Darkness. Of this enough,- To boast thy fairer joys is but To mock my fate ! But why this peace, this almost Dead serenity on nature's face Without my aid ? Methought, when twilight in her Grey disguise stole the imperial Sceptre from my hand, tumult, disorder> ' Hurry, and confusion, the theft pursued | And like the ocean's tempest-rolling Wave, in furrowing sweep and oft, Plough'd earth's shore, till my Dread banner o'er the mountain Tops wav'd nature into silence, with MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 Her noisy store of mortals, than The elements more ungovernable ! Genius of Light. The peace of twilight Hovers o'er the world ; to thy cold Gloom how beautiful ! Genius of Darkness. Impotent usurper ! Feeble as the whim that gave her birth ! For nature has weak moments ! such Was that when twilight born of clouds Shar'd the imperial sway of light and darkness. From thee, as well as me, she steals That which creates her power. And yet thou dost protect her 1 (Genius of Tmlight atighis.J Genius of Light. Hail, pensive sister I Who that sees thy tear, and vol Grief-tinted, but must love thy sorrow. And thy gentle sway ! Empire L 82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. With thee / gladly share, but not This gloomy power, he charges Thee with treason ; speak for thyself; Genius of Twilight. I meekly do protest Against the right of aerial power To charge me with usurping sui. I own no law but nature's ! At her command I take my sceptre And I lay it down. A nearer tie Than aught in air binds me to light And darkness, for of both I share the nature^ Lustre is not mine, nor gloom of Midnight hour ; tears form my Diadem, and nature's sighs my vest; My hue is that of shadow, and I dwell In essence wreath'd by melancholy's hand. Behold my peaceful reign ! The Eastern clouds, as if to sleep, do Fold themselves together, shading The slumber-loving earth that asks Their friendly curtain. The wearied MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 83 Breeze blesses the hand that smooths Its ruffled cloud, and lulls its wild-song Into silence ; while o'er the meadow Skims on noiseless wing, the bird To its low nest, whose bending Flight and swift, adds stillness to The scene ; at least the eye such Fancy images . . . . My shadow circles All, from the high mountain to The valley's flower, save where the Western sky betrays its love of solar radiance Blush-distain'd ; and shadow'd by the Stream, that prattling thing that Talks of its own beauty, yet owes Its glancing azure, silver hue, or gold. To skies of changing light ; ' But I detain ye. Genius of Light. My chariot is a sunbeam, And where light is, there am I,-. Well hast thou spoken ! 84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Genius of Darkness. Daughter of glimmering cloud ! Thine eye is pensive as thy office, And mine is gloomy as my kingdom / Nature wills it so. I view'd thee Through its medium, but by thy Influence even / am soften'd ! more I disdain to- say. Farewell ! But first with this assurance part. That in my kingdom, wonders awftil As a mystic's dream, each on its Wheel of system turns, unseen But by mine eye ! And perchance. Of light, fair spirit, some enshrouded Evolution may affect thy boasted day More than thou art aware ; for Chaos it is not, an imform'd cloud. But to the feeble eye of mortal. And of thine. Farewell ! Short is thy reign, O twilight ! Mine begins. SONG. Dear scenes that are past, a Icmg, long acliei Yet ah ! in my bosonrx you're pictur'd too true ; Why, why does not memory fly with our joy. And torturing fancy then cease to destroy ? When pleasure shall fade, may its traces fade too^^ As the sun's burning splendour drinks up the cold dew; When joy is extinct, may remembrance no move Paint life in the colours we view'd it before ! But may thy dark stream dull oblivion efface The records of bliss, of time, and of place, When tlie gay smile of hope shall no longer delight. And fancy's sofl blandishments fade on the sight. THE LOVER'S VOW, Lamp of heaven's ethereal bow. Listen to a lover's vow ! While the dusky cloud of night Dips her vesture in thy lights Or the shadow of thy beam Trembles on the lucid stream,. While on shoreless seas, the sail Whitens to thy lustre pale, Or the wave-beat cliff displays Gulfy caverns to thy rays, Where the spirits of the deep Nightly converse howling keep, Breathing fateful vengeance dark To the swiftly-gliding bark ; < kiSCELLANEOUS POEMS. 87 While o'er wood and haunted tower Fitful shapes thy gleamings pour. Where the owl's portentous shriek Breaks the weary traveller's sleep; While the stars in yonder sky Fade before thy fixU-orb'd eye, Hide their faint diminish'd rays. From thy beauty-beaming gaze, Mary's image in my breast. Reigns alone for ever bless'd ! THfi WAIL OF THE DYING. Hark ! the wild wailing Through twilight low sailing In death-breathing cadence does flow i 'Tis the wail of the dying,i The spirit is flying From chains of oppression and woe ! The hall of the mighty Once glowing so brightly, Ah ! why has its fair beaming fled ? The song of the sprightly Once flowing so lightly Why chang'd to the waU of the dead ? MISCELLANEOUS POfiAIS. 89 The armour is clotted 111 dust and bespotted With blood from the heart's spouting vein. The rider has fallen And glory is calling- His spirit from war-mingled slain. No more shall the mountain The valley, or fountain lie-echo his footstep at mom; No more shall the cheering Of hunt, or of spearing Awaken the sound of his horn ! The wife of his bosom Shall fade as a blosHom, When bar'd to the breeze of the north ; Her shelter is vanish'd, Her glory is banish'd To fade in the cold-breathing earth ! M 90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The tree is uprooted That far and wide shooted Its branches untouch'd by decay ; The flowers in its shading His children are fading, For storms have o'ershaddwed their day ! O ! sad is the wailing Through twilight low sailing, *Tis the dirge of the silent and brave ; The spirits of mourning O'ershadow his uming, And beckon his corpse to the grave ! THE GENIUS OF NONSENSE. iM Y winglet is form'd of a sigh Just heav'd by a new-born babe. And as for my beautifiil eye 'Tis a sparklet that flits from the wave. My brain is a particle fine. With a thousand of organiz'd parts ; To repeat all their names I've no time. Though, believe me, I know them by heart. Not quite so abstruse is my tongue, 'Tis a point of quicksilver so fluent. That a beam from the silly old sun When compar'd with its speed is a truant ! My voice is the turn of a quaver Wild-warbled by Madam Squallini, 92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. My love is the curve of a waver. Seen only when mornings are sunny. My flag I purloin'd from a speck That dappled a butterfly's wing. And its staff" is a hair from the neck Of Oberon's delicate queen. I was born in the vale's lily cup. And nurs'd by the milk from its stem. But like mortals I'm fond of a trip. And sometimes flit into a pen ! I've a snug little cell in the brain Oi poets, oi lovers, and ladies. And such is my ticklish vein. That I sometimes make wiser folk babies, 'Tis strange how despotic my sway. For a being so small in diitoension. And though every land owns my birth-day. You may caU me the tii-devant Frenchman ! THE DAISY. fWRITTEJt AT THE AGE OF FOURTEEN^X X>LOW sofdy, mountain breezes, blow. Nor hither bring the drifting snow ; The daisy blooms so pale and low. O'er her fair form, blow softly, blow. No gaily varied tints appear To greet with joy the new-bom year. Her pensive welcome seems to wear Hope's smile fair beaming through a tear. Death-nipping blasts and sleety showers. May blight the harbinger of flowers. For cold the sun gleams on the form. He rears beneath the mountain stormt 94 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Then softly, mountain breezes, blow. Nor hither bring the drifting snow ; The daisy blooms so pale and low, Blow softly, mountain breezes, blow! FANCY. 13 Y thee conducted, fancy, I would stray And pluck the flow'rets scatter'd o'er thy way> Bind the wild wreath around my joyfiil brow. And at thy temple pay my willing vow ; Or through the mystic windings of the vale Catch thy soft voice responsive in the gale. Tread the deep vault of some monastic pile. And listen to the owl that screams along the aisle i Or watch the moonbeam on the sculptur'd floor Lengthen its shadow through the ivy'd door; Or view, reposing on the lake's smooth breast. Each spire-crown'd turret tipp'd with Cynthia's crest ! Transport me, fancy, to that lonely shore Where listening to the wild plash of the oar. The mingled accent of a maniac's song. Rose on my ear ; its dying tones prolong'd 96 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. By the wild dash of the eiifuriate billow. That gave to misery a reposing pillow ! Such was the strain. " On this wave-beaten rock shall poor Clara abide> *' Till wash'd to the deep by the pitiless tide, " The sea-bird's wild scream as it flits o'er ray head, " And dips its pale wing in my watery bed, " Is the only sad wail for poor Clara's repose, " 'Tis a dirge emblematic of heart-breaking woes ; " Ah ! thou salt wave, roll swiftly along, " And finish at once my cares and my song, " No tomb is so sacred, no grave half so sweet, " As the dark heaving waters that ebb at my feet, " For ah my torn heart ! there Henry is sleeping ** I come, my fond love !" from the ocean-clifF leaping She plung'd in the deep I heard the wild sigh Of the circling waters the sea-bird's deep cry Thrice rose on my ear, thrice quiver'd then died> Or mingling sunk in the deep-roaring tide. Lead me, fair goddess, to the mountain wild. To pluck the heath flower, solitary child. Gaze on the landscape's boundless stretch below. Floating in ether's golden-tinted glow. MISCELLANEOUS I'OtMS. 97 Ttjweis, rocks, and woods, in swimming grandeur rise. While lakes and seas reflect the varied dies. Then let us wind along the mountain side. To the low cot where health and peace abide. Peep through the lattice, woodbine-intertwin'd, And view the pleasures of the lowly hind ; Trace on his features calm a mind at ease, A heart content with innocence and peace. See round his feet the fairy ring of love. His girls and boys in rustic gambols move. While o'er the arm of his grass-woven chair. Leans the fond partner of his joy and care. Nor scorn the scene, ye lofty, proud, and great. Ye owe your power to that same bounteous fate. Who, in denying riches, gives content A guiltless bosom from a life well spent. What are your pleasures ? nature bears no part In their formation ; unsubdued, the heart Partabfes not in the follies it pursues. Nor throbs responsive to their glittering hues ! N '98 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ah ! does your wealth, your power, bestow repose ? On your soft pillow grows affection's rose ? Does tender friendship watch by you and weep, When grief disturbs the calm of midnight sleep ? Sooth by her smiles, and charm your pain away, Till joy rebeaming shine on life's dark day ? Or does the poor man's breathing sigh to bless At evening hour your generous soul confess ? The orphan's prayer does it ascend the sky When your kind hand has wip'd his tearful eye ? The simple orison availing more. Than incense burning to earth's farthest shore I No joys like these your steely hearts can know. The tide of feeling freezes ere it flow. When evening shrouds her charms in twilight's veil. And all is sweetly pensive, softly pale ; Each form fantastic by thy whimsy aid Shall change its nature, every mingling shade That flits athwart the concave of the sky. Shall teem with wonders through thy magic eye ! O guide me, fancy, to enchanted bowers Where silver streams bedew perennial flowers. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 99 Where aerial music floats among the trees. And harps of seraphs tremble to the breeze. Give me a foretaste of that land of love. Where angels twine celestial wreatlis above. And bind for ever in their happy bowers. Peace with the sunshine of her golden hours ; And, O ! amid the beauteous throng may I, The parent and the friend at once descry. Then lengthen out thy spell, celestial maid. Nor let the world's intrusive cares invade ; For then thy magic is of power divine. It wraps my soul in dreams of bliss sublime. Heaven to my ravish'd view unveils its ray. With glories brighter than meridian day ! * These lines were composed at a very early age, (with several others which I cannot correctly mark, having forgot their dates,) and in consequence arc scarcely worthy of the beautiful power from which they are entitled. Fancy being that Genius of the rnbid from whom the Poet receives his inspiration, at /irr shrine should he offer the most perfect fruits and flowers of the mentl f;arden. STANZAS. XF in a scene so calm, so fair. One restless thought could murmuring rise,. In vain might breathe the whisp'ring air Its magic power to sooth the skies ! In vain, beneath its peaceful sigh. The flower its dewy leaves should close. Or Cynthia's soporific eye Enchant the wave to deep repose ! One banish'd thought of grief or care. One feeling charm'd from toil to rest. For ever blooms a flower more fair Than blush of rose, or nature's breast ! MISCELhLANEOUS poem^. lui Where is the mind in such an hour That feels not more of spirit's frame ? That feels not some pervading power Dissolve its tensive earth to flame ? Ye peaceful hills and slumb'ring vales. And thou, benignly smiling moon> Ye bring the thought which nought avails. The thought that seeks a mother's tomb ! And that of her, who kindly strove A mother's absence to supply, With more than friendship's, w^oman's, love. And more than kindred's boasted tie ! O buried loves ! the thought is pure That lingers o'er your lowly beds, It murmurs not-^it seeks no cure, But that which silent sorrow sheds ! But that, which from the tear-drop flows When recollection sees the past. And numbers iti its earthly woes The greatest and the heaviest kst ! 102 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. When philosophic, first I view'd The peaceful scene that woke my strain, I thought no sorrow might intrude Amid the calm of nature's reign ; I thought but no the holy sigh . That trembles o'er a sainted grave. Is sweeter than the summer's eye, And milder than the summer's wave ! Ah ! who to nature's charms untrue. The gilded paths of art would tread ? Can art the bosom's ice subdue Or wake the tears for virtue dead ? O ! can she teach the heart to glow With purer, milder, lovelier ray ? Or sweetly o'er affliction throw A faint, faint, shining tint of day ? No ! these are nature's higher claims. Her fairer, dearer privilege these ; We hear them in the linnet's strains. We feel them in the whispering breeze ! Miscellaneous poems. 103 We see them in the smile of spring. And bless them in the autumnal sigh. And flitting on their varied wing We trace their source above the sky I SONNET. 1 HE harvest moon arisen in crimson state, Mung her broad disk, like an ensanguin'd shieldj O'er the dark battlements of Linden's tower. Beneath which wav'd in gloomy majesty, A melancholy wood, spreading in grandeur. And shedding round its base in sullen silence> The autumnal leaves of sympathetic ruin ! Meanwhile, advancing to the midway sky. The deep sublimity of Cynthia faded Into a pale and pensive beauty, silv'ring O'er stream and valley with a twilight lustre. And tinging every cloud with snowy fairness. 1 could have fancied her just risen from slaughtei* Dipp'd in the blood of warriors, so awful was her hue ; MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 105 And then to gentleness so soft she melted. That o'er the ethereal field, a shepherdess she seem'd Tending her starry flock ; a peaceful queen That sway'd hy mildness, and that rul'd by love ! BALLAD. (MARY'S GRAVE.) 1 HE evening sun shone on the grave That wrapp'd the hapless Mary, The sod was green and flowers between. With many a shade did vary. I knelt upon the sacred turf, I kiss'd the flowers full wildly. And oft I thought on the gentle eye That beam'd on me so mildly ! And oft I curs'd the rage of war That tore me from her bosom, And oft I sigh'd that death should nip So sweet, so fair a blossom ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 107 I look'd around the village seem'd A tomb so dark and dreary, I glanc'd ipon her favourite tree. And felt my heart grow weary ! I view'd the church, where once I hop'd To wed the blooming maiden, I wept and to my cot return'd With misery heavy laden f The evening sun shines on the grave That wraps my sleeping Mary, And soon his beam on mine shall stream, For my heart is cold and weary J STANZAS. Y ES ! there are seasons when the wearied minil In disappointment turns from this terrene ; Her fluttering wing no resting place can find. For peace abides not in the toiling scene. But all seems flitting as a vap'rish dream. Where thoughts and feelings in mock substance rise; Now pleasure leads the hour, and now 'tis woe. Anon, reality's cold touch awakes the eye. And then again 'tis pantomimic show ! Where shall her pinion rest ? suspense-unfurl'd In wayward hoverings o'er a doubtful vale? Exhausted reason says, " not in this world," And fancy's museful cheek is wanly pale. O then the influence of religion, hail ! That heaven- ward points to skies for ever fair^ And vital breathes o'er nature's fainting powers. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 109 New life and beauty, joy exempt from care. And balm to sooth affliction's darkest hours. This is of reason's flight the central home. And this, for fancy's wanderings, subject full ; Unbounded knowledge circles Wisdom's throne. And peace, the syren's voice could never lull ; And he who counts these heavenly pleasures dull. Well does deserve on troubled seas to toil. Where gales of joy at intervals may blow. But ofler far, the whirlpool's furious boil Mingles his bark with those who sleep below. Yes ! through the hovering cloud of time and care, A brighter morning dawns within the breast. The twilight shades of sorrow disappear. As Cynthia shakes the mist from evening's vest I O dawn of beauty ! morn for ever bless'd ! Sweet is thy presage of a glorious day ! When trifles such as worlds fade in thy light ; No more their grovelling charms the eye can stay, The heaven-turn'd eye that meets immortal ray 1 BALLAD, Sleep on, my babe ! thy heart ne'er felt The icy touch of woe. Nor can thine eye with pity melt. To see thy mother's flow. Sleep on, my babe ! tby dreams are sweet As dew upon the flower ! Untrodden by thy little feet Is life's empoison'd bower. Sleep on, my babe ! thy bed is soft. It is thy mother's breast ; Though her sad couch may be fuU ofl The earth's damp soil unbless'd. Sleep on, my babe ! we've wander'd far The wind is blowing keen. AflSCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ill And fitful oft, the silver star Is seen the clouds between. 'Twill light us to our bed so cold Beneath the willow tree. But, sweetest, I will s}ill enfold. And kiss, and shelter thee ! Sleep on, my babe ! thou ne'er shalt greet A father's tender eyes, On Spanish ground, his winding sheet Is stain'd with bloody dies. He lies where murder'd thousands sleep. And heave the peaceful sod. Sweet flowers adorn each mould'ring heap. By wanton foot untrod. Then sleep, my babe ! thy little head ' Is pillow'd from the storm ; BjU cold, cold, is thy mother's bed. And chilly is her form. THft ^OLIAN HAKP. (WpiTTEN IN 1815.) HARPof^olus! awake. To the breeze that wantons by ; Kow thy aerial music make. Silence listens from the sky ! Hark ! it murmurs on our ear, Now it sinks, and now it swells, Music such as mortals hear. When they bid the world farewell 1 Louder now it grows, and strong. Deeply sounding to the gale, O that dying strain prolong, * Tis some parting spirit's wail I MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 113 Mark the varied cadence rise. Airy tones now lightly play, Ring with thrilling ecstades. Through the bosom's melting sway. Hark ! it pauses now itiArembles To the faintly quivering breeze. Softly liquid, it resembles Aerial notes on summer seas. Harp of ^olus ! awake. To the breeze that wantons by ; Bare thy bosom to the gale. Waft thy music to the sky ! TO HOPE. Sweet flow'ret of the mental bower. In life's gay morn, why droop thy head ? The sun obscur'd a transient hour. With renovated joy shall pour Its influence on thy bed ! The dews of spring thy blossom kiss, And youngling breezes round thee play. The infant birds sing only bliss, And nature, with a smiling face. Invites thee to be gay. Mourn not that winter's surly blast Fades on thy cheek the purple glow. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 115 For spring is thine, and summer past And autumn's beauty fading fast Then tears may softly flow. But ah ! not tears of cold despair. Though spring to thee shall ne'er return ; Look forward thou shalt blossom fair In bowers unknown to storm or care. In one eternal mom ! STANZAS. (ON THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.) Since that bright dawn, when morning first awoke. And shone in conscious beauty, to the last That fled before her glance, she never broke On scene more awful her concentred light; Than when from wood and vale, hill, plain. And mead, the opposing armies rush'd In dread array, and made destruction bright ! Deep, 'neath the enfuriate tread, deep bow'd the grain. The food of man, with man, the aggressor crush'd And now they meet, as if a thunderbolt Amid the whirlwind's war had burst its rage,. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 117 And through the reeling clouds, and darken'd air> Fire, winds, and waters, awful contest wage. And strive for empire with convulsions dire ! (So did they meet: ) while nature, age-enthron'd On adamantine battlements, looks forth. And trembluig, in suspensive woe enthrall'd, A waits the dread decision ; and the earth On her astonish'd pillars shakes appall'd ! Did ocean leave his bed, and plough thy fields. Fair Gaul when on the distant ear the mingling roar As if of waters bellowing in their might. Now lessening, now increasing, as the shore Presents the obstructing rock, or sanded height ? But near, what horror press'd the heart. The ear, the eye, in all its dark variety of ahape To tell, would be a sound to part The soul and bbdy or the dead to wake ! Far fled the dove from the unballow'd scene. Where late her nest in wooded alcoves hung ; 118 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And with the nightingale, o'er unknown stream The stranger woods to their lamentings rung ! And as the storm wax'd louder, deeper grew their wail. In one continued harmony of woe ; Till the dread pause the awful stillness came. That told the sword of death had struck his part- ing blow ! Sweet bird ! ere yet the peasant dar'd to leave His trembling shade, back to thy native grove On home-glad wing thou didst the mild air cleave. To seek repose again upon thy nest of love. Peace flies before the ball : low on the ground In shiver'd atoms lay the dove's abode ; Deep in her breast she felt the cruel wound. And screaming fled, of war, the trampled road ! 'Tb the third day : the dove replumes her wing. And o'er the field of recent horror skims. No startling sound provokes her mournful flight, The calm of death waves o'er the soundless scene! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 119 *Tis peace indeed ^but halcyon peace no more ! Where is the golden fruit that stnil'd beneath thd ray Tlie song of peasant or the evening dance ? Where are the rural toils of busier day, Where now thy glortf fallen fallen France ? And does it lie on that dread silent field, Unburied unanointed and unwept ? The scourge of ages and the mighty shield That could alone her native sins protect : And does it lie on silent Waterloo? What on the soil that gave its vigour birth ? O ! could there not be found in all the injur'd earth A tomb less humbling or a tomb less true ? No ! m his orvn land the tyrant is depos'd. In his omn land the chain he form'd is broke ; And one dissever'd link the arm enclos'd. That would have gall'd a thousand to its yoke ! No more his eye shall meet the radiant glance Of glory smiling in triumphal car. 126 Miscellaneous poems. Yet oft her shade his bondage to enhancej Shall flit in mock'ry o'er her fallen star ! I mourn the hero but I praise him not ! He who bravely fights, and bravely dies, His banner being glory, and his sword renown ;-'- Who, when the trumpet sounds, to battle flies. His aim a province or his end a crown. Of him I speak not, whose defending arm Is rais'd against the foe-invading host. Whose sword is drawn to shield his cot from harm, Or drive the robber from his native coast : Praise to him were moonbeams to the sun. Or glow-worm lustre to the diamond's ray ; By conquest's law, the blaze of battle won, Fades like the morn before meridian day ! Note. I am aware that I have indulged in an unpardonable irre- gularity of rhyme in these stanzas, unless sentiment, (whom I leave to plead my cause at the bar of offended order,) should succeed in appeasing that austere poetic virtue, and her handmaid rev'tcui, l'itli formidable rule and compass .' RETROSPECTION. JtlOW sweet that strain ! and sweet the thought That breathes in each mellifluous sigh } It tells of hours and days gone by ; Of hours and days with pleasure fraught^ When life seem'd fair to childhood's eye. But ah ! no more its note can bring The vision that so early fled ; The rainbow lights^ that swiftly shed Their indistinct and distant beam. And left the heart all cold and dead J Yet there is that which may not die. Even in the breast of mortal man j 'Tis hope, who with Utopian wand Creates all fair life's future sky. Nor dreams that clouds may mar her plan. Q 122 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. From hope, eihexedX fancy springs, And childhood's dreams in youth return ; (Though she the simile would spurn,) For light of sapphire paints her wings. And disappointment has to learn ! She soars awhile in radiant day. Her tearless eye with rapture beamings For all is good that hath fair seeming j And every glance from pleasure's ray A beam of lasting joy is streaming ! She wanders o'er enchanted ground, In guileful footpaths ever roving. And all her wayward fancies proving j While reason's warning is spell-bound, * And wisdom is far off removing. But happily soon the vision fades ; Like childhood's dream, it smiles to die- Yes even in youth's most early sky ! And reason's mild, though sombre shades. Succeed to fancy's roseate die ! THE HERO'S GRAVE. CTO THE MOON.Ji M'HEN pale and cold thy shadows wave. Reluming oft the hero's grave, O softly break the passing cloud. And shed th^r beams on valour's shroud ! The laurel wreath is sanguin'd o'er. Its vernal leaves are wet with gore. The temples which its circlet bound Lie pale and low beneath the mound ; Yet once with glory's throb they bum'd. Till honour gain'd what beauty mourn'd. O guide the lovely weeper here. To strew with flowers her warrior's bier ! 124 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Nor shall her gentle tears bedew The cypress gloom, or blighting yew. With sylvan flowers so sweet and wild. The dreary shade of death's beguil'd; . The rose and hawthorn blossom here Bedew'd by woman's softest tear : The sweetest bird of early spring. Here nestles safe her airy wing. And pours her requiem to the gale. That murmurs o'er the Ijreathing vale. And when the last pale gleam of day Has vanish'd from the cloud away. The hero's dirge in pensive strain Is echo'd from the woods again ! Then as thy flitting shadows wave O'er the cold mansion of the brave, O softly break the passing cloud. And shed thy beams on valour's shroud I NUN'S SONG. \t HEN the blue eye of morning first opes on the lawn, And shadows the wave with her cloud-tinted dawn. The lark with gay songs ushers in the new day. For wild-breathing freedom inspires his glad lay ! The nightingale hails the warm breezes of spring. For liberty plumes the gay flight of her wing ; She sings to her love on the white-blossom'd tree. When the soft dews of even weep over the lea ! But not morn's rosy blush, nor spring's scented flowers. Can lighten the gloom of Louisa's dark hours. Nor chase from a convent the cloud of despair. For hope's cheering sunbeam can never shine there ! 126 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Blanch'd is my cheek, which the crimson oft shaded. The eye that once sparkled, its lustre is faded ! The breeze of the south never fans my weak form. Yet soon shall it sigh o'er Louisa's pale urn ! AN ADDRESS TO A STREAM FLOWING AT THE DECLIVITY OF A HILL, ON THE SUMMIT OF WHICH STANDS THE MORAVIAN SETTLEMENT AND BOARDING SCHOOL OF FULNECK, IN YORKSHIRE. Stream of the vale I that murmuring glides. How oft I've trac'd thy wild meanderings, Pluck'd the blue flower that loves to hide In nooks form'd by thy fairy wanderings. Yes ! I have hail'd the summer ray. That cloth'd thy banks in verdure gay. Stream of the mead and youngling wood I How oft has sportive fancy made 128 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Thy simple stream broad Ganges' flood. And I to seek thy source essay'd ! Dream of the heart ! by nature led. How soon thy wild enchantment fled ! Or when to stop thy lulling course. Some playful pebble rear'd its head. Thy gentle chidings were the hoarse Loud falls of Niagara's bed ! For nature then in awful guise, . Was new to fancy's wondering eyes. Or when a milder mood inspir'd, I dreamt of Persia's magic groves, Her perfum'd breezes, lutes, and lyres. And nightingales that sing their loves ; How were thy simple charms despis'd For fountains, gems, and roseate dies ! But now to mem'ry's pensive eye Thy rural beauties sweet and wild. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 2i) Recal the hours unknown to sigh. Where all that liv'd but liv'd to smile. This paints thy banks with beauty's glow. And silvers o'er thy wave below ! Stream of gay childhood's happy day ! Then the young heart was pure as thee ; Sincere the vows we then did pay To friendship, feeling, sympathy ! When every eye a mirror shone. Reflecting truth's fair form alone ! Stream of the vale ! thy waters glide As mild as they were wont to do; Thy flow'rets bloom with equal pride. As softly falls the evening dew ; And fancy only can deplore. That thy soft hours return no more. A fairer scene perchance I've view'd, A lovelier landscape may have seen, R 130 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. But happiness thy meads bedew'd. And pleasure gave a brighter green. Thou art the same how chang'd am I, * The hours are fled, unknown to sigh ! Lest any of my friends who may peruse these pages, should think me chimerical in my expressions of regret, surrounded as I am by the external blessings of Providence, to thevi I would say, that the above verses were written shortly after the death of a beloved parent. ODE TO THE MEMORY OF BURNS. Spirit.' from ScoUa's mountain gloom. What dirge of woe did thy lone harp Breathe o'er the bard's and nature's tomb. When death relentless aim'd his dart? Sorrow for every woe has sigh. For varied grief congenial tear. And wild would be thy funeral cry When Burns lay on his lowly bier ! * The holly round his head Delighted thou didst wreathe. And wilt thou o'er his clay-cold bed The gloomy cypress weave ? In the " Vision," a poem by Bums, he describes the Genius ot Scotland binding the holly round his brow. 132 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS* Ah no ! his fav'rite flower And thme sliall blossom there,^ Transplanted from the bower To him no longer fair ; While many a gentle hand A heather-blooming band With golden broom shall twine> And on his lowly bed The sacred garland spread. Fit incense for his shrine ! And. fancy on ethereal wing Shall steal the sweetest balm of springs To scent the hallow'd air ! At eve or early morn In twilight's dewy horn She'll dip her pinion fair ; And from the cloud descending O'er Burns's cold urn bending Shake the translucent drops perfum'd with roseate air t Oh ! lonely is the glen at morn That lov'd his wandering footstep's tread, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 13^ And love may weep o'er Burns's urn. For with the bard his witching fled ! ^ And many a cheek whose faded flower Blooms in his verse with deathless hue. May sigh o'er the deserted bower. That meets no more his raptur'd view. Where is the lyre ? whose numbers sweet So true to aature breath'd around. That love his image smil'd to meet. And sorrow own'd the tear she found ! Where is the lyre ? has Scotia not One hallo w'd grove to shade its frame ? Oh yes ! full many a wild-wood spot Would twine its bough around the name ! Mortal finger ne'er shall stray O'er its soundless wire, Gone for ever is the day That wak'd its notes of fire ! Only at thy kindred touch. Spirit ! shall its pulses tremble. For the strains it breath'd were such As thiue aiit'iaX form resemble t 134 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Freedom, at its awful call, Wav'd her banners o'er the mountain ; Love enchain'd in beauty's thrall, Whisper'd vows beside the fountain ; Glory, mid the battle's roar, Flourish'd high his glancing weapon. Freedom, Glory, Love, deplore, For the lyre that sang is broken I Genius of the mountain land ! When the crescent's fire Glimmers pale, O lift thine hand And strike thine aerial lyre ! Wildest dirges breathe around ; Though no mortal hear the sound. Fancy's spirit shall convey To the world thy sorrowing lay. And upon her midnight throne Nature shall the feeling own; Wake her glen-bound echo's song All thine anguish to prolong, Calm the mountain torrent's roar Wildly dashing on its shore. Miscellaneous poems. 135 Till it seems the summer flowing Of the stream o'er violets blowing ! O hoW sweetly shall thy number Mingle in its murmuring slumber ! And the breeze that nightly hovers O'er the grave of hapless lovers. On its sighing wing shall bear Notes which breathe not earthly care ! Till the dirge, in woe complete. For thy bard be offering meet. Best reward of genius this. Nature's tears are answerless I to CALUMNY. Offspring of heU ! and generated there. What imp of darkness brought thee to our sphere ? What busy fiend conceiv'd the dark design To banish peace for ever from mankind ? Ah, fatal hour ! when first in human breast Thy baneful influence slander was confess'd ; When the first victim at thy murderous shrine Bled by the knife of cruelty refin'd ; When the first martyr of thy poisonous breath> Though living, felt the agonies of death ! Alas ! how often innocence is doom'd ' By ruthless fate to feel thy rankling wound, Her powerful shield which earth and hell defied> By thy keen dart falls broken from her side,- MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 137 While vice in triumph lifts his towering head. By worlds caress'd with adulation fed. Oh virtue ! where then is thy bright reward ? , Will happiness from thee for ever be debarr'd ? Shall guUt unblushing always victor prove ? Crown'd with the joys of fortune and of love ? No 1 in the breast in which thou lov'st lo reign Sweet peace is found, with her celestial train ; The soft approving smile of inward joy. The hope which leads to bliss without alloy ! These joys, O calumny ! thy keenest shafts defy. Virtue has conquer'd bow to her, and die I SONG. There is a footstep soft as the thistle downj Light as its gossamer leaves when they fly, There is an eye bent on the dewy ground'^^ Wfld as the echo of love's early sigh. There is an arm outstretch'd and snow-white, It grasps but 'tis only the breeze of the cloud, Bound on its circle the diamond looks more bright. The pledge of a lover enwrapp'd in his shroud. Who is the maid that wanders thus lonely .'' Ask not but mark where the moon sheds her beam. See that pale tomb there her heart is reposing. It fled to beguile her fond lover's last dream ! WHAT IS LOVE ? Say, what is love ? 'tis like a rose With leaves impearl'd in morning dew. Yet, ah ! before the evening's close No more each pendent drop we view : The playful gale that wantons by Waves the delusive gem to air, So love expires, without a sigh. That sparkled once a dew-drop fair. TO A FBIEND. Yes, I could weep ! till every tear A blessing brought thee from above,^ And I could kneel, till every prayer Was answer'd in a voice of love ! Then deem me not the fickle thing That changes with the varying hour,. For endless as the lover's ring. Is virtuous friendship's constant power } SONNET TO A BLACKBIKD, VT HY every eve, on yonder aged tree. Pour thy sweet note to twilight's misty ear ? She lingers not like me to catch thy Faintest warble for music melts her not. Dull goddess ! but heedless of thy voice She sails on cloudy wing through weeping ether ! O'er love departed, does thy evening song A requiem flow ? or vanish'd tenderness Thy lay inspire to softest melody ? The strain too gaily floats, else the calm scene Recalls such recollection to ray mind. If I mistake not, love once breath'd his sigh Where now thy nest is cradled, and perchance. Its flitted essence hovers o'er the spot 142 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A gentle spirit conscious of its nature ! And on the scene of former hopes and joys Strews wildest flowers " forget me not" Of pale blue eye, and weeping violet. And love's empurpled flower with bleeding breast^ Sweet bird of spring ! so sacred is thy song To fancy's ear, that I would linger e'en Till the pale moon streaks evening's sable vest With light and shade alternate ; or bright 8tars That gem her diadem, in heaven appear. THE STORM, Evening advances how unlike, when last She sank exhausted on her crimson couch. While zephyrs fann'd her with their golden wings. Now in a thunder cloud she rides, and vivid light- nings . Speed her dark chariot to its destin'd goal. While, upborne on the pinion of the storm. The eagle beats his wing, as if to share sublimity, And kindred claim with the wild hail-storm Whitening in the air, or intermingled rains From heaven siircharged. The floods, deep swollen, their foaming billows heave^ As if disdainful of their bedded lowliness. And envious to commingle with the strife of battle 144 MISCELLANEOtrS POEMS. Thundering in ether ! e'en rooted hills seem mov'd. And vales, once peaceful, with loud murmurs shake. And from her trembling bough, scare the mute bird* Extend your gaze around nor man, nor beast. Moves in creation e'en nature shrinks appall'd As the elements she form'd unite against her. And in annihilation's deepest shade would Frowning plunge ! but, chaos fled the universe. When o'er his cloud she breath'd her natal sigh, And reigns, perchance, in extramundane kingdoms. WHAT IS MAN?- bAY, what is man ? at very best, A breath of sorrow or a tear of woe A sigh of misery that flits awhile - Then vanishes to nothing ; a brain-sick dream Of fancies, idly nam'd hope, joy, and fear. Yet meaning nothing, and of less avail ! Man ! mighty man ! is this then all thy boast ? The offspring of a day a summer fly^ Sports in ephemeral greatness such as tliine ! And yet thou art what art thou nist ? In thine own eyes omnipotent^ yet knowing not From whence thou cam'st^ er whither goest ! Strange composition ! tangible delusion ! We grasp thy mighty whole aad in one word Would name thee something but, O fickle power ! The image and idea flee together. And leave poor reason writing in tbs dust The n^me of man ! T METKICAL TKANSLATION' FROM THE FRENCH OF TELEMACHUS. CDESCRIPriON OF ELYSIUM.} XVECLIN'D in fragrant bowers. That scent. Elysium's field ; Where everlasting flowers Eternal sunshines yield* A thousand dewy rills Of pure transparent wave. The meads with freshness fill. The verdant moimtains lave. Through every vernal grove The softest notes resound ; MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 147 With harmony and love The valleys echo round. Enchantment breathes a calm In every whispering breeze. The air is ever balm. And peaceful are the seas ! The ravish'd eye beholds. In one delighted view. Brown autumn's fruits of gold. And spring's sweet violet blue. The seasons blush complete. In one eternal year, Their circling beauties meet. And reign for ever here ! The burning star of fire, * Its ardour is unknown ; The north wind's blighting ire Shall never here be blown. * Dog-Stai. 148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Nor war of sanguine hue His sable banner wave ; Nor envy's cold mildew, Its withering influence shed !--^ Her venom'd dart in vaki Would try to pierce this sky. The vipers of her train These shades of peace defy ! Here jealousy's dark flame,- And pale suspicion's eye,* And vain desires, and shame. For ever, ever, fly ! The sun with golden beam Unsetting brilliance pours | Nor evening veils the scene With twilight's sombre hours ; Yet o'er the Happy breast, A peaceful calm it eheds, It dazzles not unbless'd. Nor droops the illumin'd head J MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 14^ Around the beauteous forms, Of virtue's perfect sons. The crystal light of mom With dazzling lustre runs ; Environ'd in its rays. Celestial glory streams. And wreath^ brightness plays In eyes of heavenly beams. At this immortal fount. They drink of life, the soul ; Invigorated mount. And in its essence roll ! No food of earthly kind. Their strengthen'd bosoms ask > Ethereal as the mind Their forms in glory bask J The Thracian mountains high. On whose stupendous crests The snows of winter lie. The eternal frosts invest, 150 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Whose summits bathe in clouds, And drink the ethereal dew, Enwrapp'd in misty shrouds From eagle's piercing view, > As soon shall from their base By human hands be hurl'd. And from their destin'd place Be scatter'd o'er the world; As shall a tear bedew The face of one bless'd soul. Unless soft pity's sigh The woes of earth condole. A youth eternal smiles. On every blooming face ; A joy that ne'er beguiles Shines with unclouded grace. Immutable and sure. Their happiness shall last. As their own natures pure. And as their knowledge vast, IMPROMPTlT, ON READING A POEM OF H. K. WHITE'S, Beginning, " YES ! 'TWILL BE OVER SOON.' 1 H Y muse, tdas ! prophetic o^ thy doom. With pensive warning pointed to the tomb. Yet twin'd a wreath of never-dying fame From death to save her fav'rite Henry's name \ SONG. W HY sinks the evening sun so slow> Why lingers still the rosy glow ? Come, twilight soft, with mantle dun. And shade the glow, and veil the sun. O haste and bring the sacred hout. When silence reigns o'er vale and bower ! Why does the lake, and why the stream. Detain so long the parting beam ? Come, lingering twilight, ft'om thy cloud, And wrap the waters in a shroud ! O haste and bring the sacred hour, When silence reigns o'er vale and bower ! Why lengthens but thfc murmuring bee Her busy day upon the tree. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 153 Come, twilight, send the wanderer home. And all who love like her to roam. O haste and bring the sacred hour, Wlien silence reigns o'er vale and bower ! Why does the star so faintly shine^ The dewy gem of love * divine ; Come, twilight, pale the blush of day. That shades thy fav 'rite's lovely ray ; O haste and bring the sacred hour. When silence reigns o'er vale and bower ! The sun has sunk, the glow is o'er. The lake and stream are light no more { And twilight sheds o'er hill and vale. Her influence softly, sweetly pale ; The hour is come, the silent hour, So dear to contemplation's power ! U NIGHT SCENE. " Le silence de la nuit, le calme de la mer. Id lumiere tremblante de la lune repandue sur la face des ondes, le sombre azur du ciel, seme de brillan- tes etoiles, servoient a rendre ce spectacle encore plus beau." Telemaque. 1 HE winds of heaven were still. The breezes died away ; And silence on the hill In sleeping calmness lay. ttush'd were the valleys round, The pulse of nature's play Paus'd in the deep profound. Till mom's awakening ray ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 155 The sea's translucent wave In murmurs kiss'd the shore. And wash'd the ocean's cave Divested of its roar ! The moon's enchanting light. With softly quivering beam Danc'd on the gulf of night. And shed her lambent gleam. The bright ethereal blue. Unclouded and serene. Amid its deepening hue. Display 'd the starry scene; Each fairy lamp of night. Shot forth its kindling ray. Till concentrated light Excell'd the glare of day ! TO A WILD VIOLET. (ON SEEING ONEVKRY EARLY IN SPRING.)^ XX OW pale thy blue, sweet flower ! how chilly Looks the rjun-drop in thy tender eye ! A sunbeam was thy parent but unkind He fled, and left thy cradle to the Rocking storm ! Mourn not the fugitive. Nor fear thy rugged nurse, whose lullaby Is the wild wind, and beneath whose blast The towering trees do * shrieking bend ! I know nothing more sublime than the sound produced from the stems of a number of h;gh trees, when bending under tlie weight of an autumnal, or wintry blast. The same sound consi- dered abstractedly appears disagreeable, as it is merely a screaking of the wood j but when acted upon in the manner atove men- tioned, with all the other accompaniments of an impending storm, it becomes exceedingly striking. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 157 Fear not a gentler hand shall tend thy Drooping form, and raise the green Sward o'er thy earthy bed, remove the Blighting thorn, or pebble harsh, and Kindly shelter thee, poor orphan flower ! And when opposing elements shall cease Their bitter strife, and vassal breezes Whisper peace around, O then 1*11 Yield thee to their genial care, and .Ask of gracious Heaven this only boon- That when the storms of adverse fortune Blow, and reckless on my head their Rage expend, some friendly hand may Intercept their ire, and lead me to A shade where storms have no access ; Or teach my heart submissive to endure The evils emanant firom human life ! BALLAD. * LADY fair ! the wind is cold. And shelter I have none ; For I am poor and very old. And should my sorrows all be told. They'd melt a heart of stone. lady fair ! that tender eye For pity's tear was given, That gentle breast conceals her sigh. Then shield me from the piercing sky. The bitter winds of heaven ! 1 once had wealth and children fair. But soon they fled away ; This subject is, alas! not origiiuil; it is a tale tor) often told, nd too little attended to. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 159 My ships Were wreck'd, and want and care Blighted my tender plants so rare. They died by slow decay. Then, lady ! shield inj aged form. The wind is loud and keen, I've weather'd many a rougher storm. But feeble now has grown my arm, In life's expiring scene. WANDEKING FANNY. X AST drives the snow from the pitiless sky. Dreary and chill is the night coming on, O ! for a shelter where safely to lie ; I ask not for such as in days that are gone ! Welcome abode of the owl and the fox. Where the wind bleakly whistles through each moulder'd cranny. Loud and cold is the night-blast the abbey that rocks, But colder the bosom of wandering Fanny ! The tear in my eye, let it freeze if it will. For the hand that would wipe it is cold in the ground. Thou pulse in my bosom, O ! quickly be still. Delay not the sleep to the weary how sound ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I6l O ! fond were the parents that smil'd on my youth. In heaven they reside, yet friends I had many. But, alas ! I have outliv'd the promise of truth. Deserted by all, is poor wandering Fanny ! What though the morning of life was enchanting. What though my hopes were as bright as the day. How dark is the noon, and how sad my lamenting. How piercing my sorrows, how swift my decay! Beneath the pale sea-beach my Henry is sleeping, Rock'd by the billow reposes my Anny, My shroud is a weaving by snows softly heaving. And cold is the grave of poor wandering Fanny ! SUMMER EVENING SCENE. 1 HE sun has set in clouds of flaming gold. Beneath the purple of the western hill, The filmy mists that round his chariot roU'd, With lucid brightness, into dews distil* The AWvy showrer, new fragi-aiace to diffuse, StUl softly trembles to the zephyr's sigh. In amber drops, that emulate the hues, The golden tincture of the evening sky. Nor less the foliage of the embowering shade Partakes the varied tint that western glows. The beamy lights in flitting shadows fade. And through the umbrage mellow'd lustre throw. The tumbling waters of yon azure flood O'er rocks deep fringed in nature's greenest loom. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 163 Vie with the blush of rose's opening biid. Or liquid rubies pal'd bj evening's moon. Soft sleep the valleys in the burnish'd scens ; And dells, high curtain'd with o'erhan^^ing trees, Exclude morn's earliest ray, day's latest beam. Nor through their mazes swells the undulating breeze. With gothic pride the ancient abbey rears Its stately towers ; and like the waning sun More glorious in its end, an aspect wears Thrice solemniz'd-<-subIime ! its turrets dun. Smile in the general glow a proud farewell To sacerdotal greatness, pomp, and show. When the soft anthem and the vesper bell Peal'd its dark aisles along in cadence slow. Soft, lovely contrast ! low in yonder vale The peasant's cot, with unassuming look And rural beauty smiles ; there may we hail Unbiass'd nature, in her genuine book. And drink from that pure source whate'er of joy Remains unmix'd to man; kcre may the soul refin'd 164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS- For ever muse nor wayward fancy cloy j She droops her eagle wing, nor soars to find Above the flowery dale a place of rest. Beyond the cottage gate, where roses creep. True bliss, her wildest flights repress'd. Her splendid dreams with simple nature sleep. Now the tir'd shepherd's dog collects his flock, Guiding their simple feet o'er many a hill. And in the fold his master's fleecy stock With anxious care deposits far from ill. Ah, learn of him, proud man, thus to discharge With equal faith your more important trust. Where wisdom guides, and reason to enlarge Exalts her empire, can you be less just .'' Her shadowy veil now lingering twilight throws O'er hill and dale, soft blending in one line Of undistinguish'd paleness nature's glow. Except yon mountain, tipp'd by the faint shine Of the yet lumin'd sky, and distant spire Which caught, and still retains the flitting ray Of the sun's closing eye ; the gleamy fire Still quivers on its point with fairy play^ MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 165 Here 'the wild tumult of the heart grows calm, Sooth'd into rest by night's oblivious powers- Nature's deep silence with a letheau balm. Lulls every care of day's too anxious hour ! Tir'd with the vanity of busy life. Sick of its tumult, and its trifling show. The heaven-born spark turns from its eager strife. And drinks at fountains whence true pleasures flow. Aspires to Thee, great source of life and light. Sun of the soul ! from whose approachless rays Our reason dawns, from whose transcendent height Joy beams apace to gild our cheerless days ! Ever to Thee, when nature spreads her charms. She ceaseless points, the crimson flush of mom. The dew-bath'd eve, and midnight's circling arms. Exist hut in thee, and thy power confirm. The simplest flower that scents the vernal air Claims the same hand that bade the planet shine. The mountain billow and the dew-drop fair, Alike are wondrous, for they both are thhie ! SONNET, 1 HE stream had worn its channel down A bank, steep and irregular, and broken Into craggy apertures, through which The twisted roots of interlacing shrubs To many an insect world gave shelter. And pleas'd full well the curious eye to view The underground designs of nature, start From their concealment. And on the margin of this little brook The primrose nestled in its cradle green, All-heedless of the eddying wave That circled round its pebbly barrier. Or spray in tiny mist that wash'd its Leaf. The scene was beautiful ! for Through the tender foliage, arch-entwjn'd, MtSCELLA>fEOUS POEMS. 16^ The river slid along, full, deep, and clear. In beautiful serenity ; where many a Sunbeam view'd its glancing form. Well pleas'd in conscious brightness; And many a tree reflected from the bank, Stoop'd to embrace its image in the Crystal mirror, smit with its own beauty. This little stream, said I, that murmurs O'er its bed, and foams and swells in fairy Grandeur, telling to all around how very shallow^ Are its waters, is this world's vanity- Empty and sounding ; whose very mimic Of true happiness so little breathes of What the soul desires, that to a noblet Source it tuniing hastens ! and that fair River typical may seem of what is not Mere tinkling ; wisdom is noiseless As the unbroken wave that sweeps along In majesty of silence ! And when I thought Of this world's misery its little power Of satisfying an aspiring, an immortal soul, I tum'd my eye above, (but more my heart,) 168 MiSCELLAl>fEOtJS tOEMS. And ask'd for that full wave from Wisdom's Purest fount, which might o'erflow and swallow Up those streams that ruffle o'er the heart, And have their source below 1 STANZAS. vJ WHY should man to fancied care His sympathetic sorrows give When real woe demands the tear From every eye from all that live ? Why should he heave the pensive sigh O'er ^clion's grief-depicted scene When misery's undelusive cry Implores his feeling or his boon ? He weeps the woes he ne'er may cure Whose tears o'er fiction idly fall. But pangs that living hearts endure May still be wept and sooth' d by all! If sentimental sorrow throws A charm o'er lost * Maria's tale, Stem^t Maria. 170 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The fvorld presents, in heighten'd woes, Full many such, with truth's detail ! O ask no more the tender page Where e'en Mackenzie's colours glow. Till in some happier, milder age. Ye have to seek the forms of woe ! 'Tis not in this ! the mournful eye. At every glance, unsought beholds The victim doom'd to toil, or die. Where want, or vice, their claims unfold. O fountain of the balm that heal'd The wounded heart in Gilead's vale. Be thou the soothing power and shield Of those whom earthly comforts fail ! O shower the manna of the wild On him whose cruse hath no supply ! And water send thy thirsty child From sources that before were dry ! INVOCATION TO SPKING. IvETURN, fair spring ! and with thy roseate hours Enliven Britain's desolated plain ; Breathe in each gale, expand the infant flowers Smile in the valleys on the mountains reign. Teach the wing'd choir the varied note to thrill With sound mellifluous through thy woody vales. Till echo listening, catch the wild note shrill. And songs responsive swell thy honied gales ! Fancy's gay season ! spread thy lovely vest O'er bower and mead, by winter's hand em- brown'd. Come in a wreath of vernal flow'rets dress'd. And scatter beauty in thy airy round, 172 miscellaiJeous poems. Love's melting eye thy dewy steps shall trace O'er upland height, and valley, waving green. Bless the fond shade where with thy coyest grace The curtaining umbrage veils his noonday dream I Hours of delight ! O hither wing your way. From seas Sicilian kindred influence bring. Where pleasure's sails unfurl in wanton play. And nature sports in everlasting spring ! FRAGMENT. 1 WAS a fearful pause the warring wind Sat in his cloudy and view'd the desolation He had made below ; the heaving water Quiver'd into silence ; and, trembling from EmotiQn past, the dropping tree, shiver'd Its broken leaf with rustling cadence. A watery moonligiit gleam'd upon the lake. Where, floating on its edge, a skiff appear'd With canvas rent and dripping ; and, hanging Transversely from either side, the mudded Oar caught in the tangled weed that Mark'd its border. * * *** Dim was the eye that view'd this skiff. And hollow was her cheek, save when The momentary flash of horror lighted 174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Her pallid features with its gleam. Yes it was horror's flash, for in her Arms she held the recent chill of death; Of lingering death, of death that has no Parallel in woe. * The babe that Press'd her bosom was a corpse, and cold And hunger were its murderers. * She knelt upon the turf a beam play'd On its half-clos'd eye strain'd with the last Convulsion of its nature she gaz'd a moment On the face which once was beautiful,-^ While through her bosom rush'd the tide of every Feeling that marks the changeful Hfe of man. Yes in a moment's space she felt them all. But One predominated ; she leapt into the skiff, The paddling oar mark'd her slow progress to The middle wave she threw her eyes to heaven. And plung'd below. The parted water shook con- vulsively Then clos'd its circle with a murmuring sigh, and all waK StiU. ** SONG. JMAIDEN! why that shade of sadness On a face than spring more fair ? Where has fled the smile of gladness? Where the look that banish'd care ? Once thine eye with pleasure beaming Told thy youthful heart how gay ; Hope's bright rays afar were gleaming, Soon to shine in perfect day ! Once the orient hue of morning. On thy cheek its lustre shed ;- So the blush yon cloud adorning. Ere the evening hour i)3 fled ! Once thy form's light grace delightedl As thy step elastic flew ; 176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. So the lily ere 'tis blighted, Wares amid the vernal dew ! Maiden ! say, has love decoy 'd thee. To his smiling bower of joy ? And the arm which there embrac'd thee, Does it now thy peace destroy ? Sad, forsaken, art thou weeping Love's soft dream for ever fled ? Ah ! that sigh thy bosom breaking Shews the wound from which it bled !- LINES SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY CHARLOTTE, ON VISITING, FOR THE FIRST TIME, THE TOMB OF WERTER. The storm is hush'd ! the elements have ceas'd Their wild emotions now once more at peace Amid the sighs of an exhausted world, The moon looks from the clouds the tempest round her hurl'd. 'Tis emblematic of what has been, of what is ! The breast that agoniz'd, is, as a mother's kiss. Calm and unruffled extinguish'd is the fire. The brain that fever'd, and the arm inspir'd I This hour is sympathetic with my soul. Night's icy dews, my fever'd brow shall cool. And the chill breeze waft from my hectic cheek The flush of agony, that speaks of horrors deep ! Z Its MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Here then ! amid the depth of midnight gloomy I bend, O Werter ! o'er thy sanguin'd tomb ! The wretched Charlotte dares to pay thee now. What once she could not, love and misery's vow ! None can reproach this offering of a breast. With anguish torn, of every hope bereft: No jealous eye my wanderiiig steps shall trace, Nor taunting jest indignant paint my face ! A form and soul to thee and misery wed. Thy murder'd relics, thy cold grave my bed. Heed not the voice of calumny nor fear A persecution, but affection's tear ! Albert ! upbraid not thus thy wretched wife, Widow'd in soul, though bound to thee in life : O ! wipe not thus so kind my tears away. But down my face for ever let them stray ! My children ! gaze not in your mother's eye. And fondly say, " Mamma, pray do not cry ! ** For Werter comes to-day he must and will, " He promis'd long and knows not you are ill. " He'll read, and sing, and smile, for he is kind " And press your pretty hand, all, all the time 1" MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 179 Why does my throbbing heart not take its flight. And meet thee, Werter, in death's welcome night ? Thou canst not come to me poor Children, no ! But I to thee releas'd from pain shall go ! Soon may the sod that wraps thy mangled form. Give me kind refuge from this mental storm ! Soon may the cypress that waves o'er thy tomb. Receive thy Charlotte to its peaceful gloom. Werter ! farewell ! for duty sternly calls, Thou bidd'st me stay, thy mournful voice appals : Now I must go yet every eve shall see My kneeling form beneath this cypress tree ; Till thy lov'd image glads my tearful eye. And, "Charlotte! Charlotte!" echoes my last sigh ! Clasp'd in thine arras, thou'lt bear my soul away, And leave this form to mingle with thy clay ! TO ENVY. 1 HOU base replner at another's good Turn not on me thine eyes, I hate thee ! Avaunt, thou hideous fiend back to thy native hell. And sully not the purer air I breathe. Hah ! darts and tipp'd with calumny ! Well hurl them if thou wilt ; For on my breast is plac'd The shield of innocence ! tHE MIND'S SOLILOQUY. ^M I omnipotent ? no else I should Comprehend more than that I simply do Exist, I should be conscious of ray nature, Whence I came horn long I shall endure. And in what place ; in short, I should Know what I am. But that I e'en Should question it proves that I am Not, ne'er shall be omnipotent. Mysterious essence ! thou hast powers And properties to which the book of Nature darkens not her page, nay. Thou canst comprehend tvht/ thus thou Judgest, thinkest, feelest, spcakest. And yet thou knowest not what causest 182 MISCELLANEOUS POEAiS. Thee to do so ; what thy comprehension Is thou canst not tell ! Did I create myself? no -or I should Be able to create myself anew to Change my present system to inhabit Other forms to animate wood, stone. Or clay, at pleasure or to dwell in Mine own essence, free from all Incumbrance. What then does this , Prove ? why simply this, that I Have been crefl/erf -conscious as I am That / exist, and that of myself I Am not the creator. It also pi-oves that That which formed me, must than Me be greater for the effect of Power is less than power itself as My designs are less than me. I know that there are minds who do So lightly value all that is wondrous In themselves and beautiful, that To a something which is called chance They humbly how, and own their great MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. IS^ Creator ! Such minds undoubtedly Possess the nature of their sire, which Is confusion, want of order, and of Rulej confess'd ; nay, their best Argument that to such power they Do belong is itself the assertion^ For in that wilder'd brain, chaotic Darkness and confusion dwell ! Ah ! they have lost indeed the last Faint hue of their divine original Who so madly think, and idly dream^ I do acknowledge tliat my views Are higher I aspire and claim Affinity with omnipotent design ! With the iHicreated system, whence All systems flow ! My powers Are not the jumble of an " atomic dance," The pure design of every part, the Harmony of the whole proves a design. And that design how great ! When chance does aught, (to speak Imperfectly,) do we not recognise his 184 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Work, by tvant of order and harmonic Rule ? who ever call'd a Grecian temple Chance- work ? or who, a heap of stones Thrown in promiscuous wildness, call'd Design ? but man, ungrateful for His first, best gift, the light of reason, Madly spurns her voice, and listens To delusion ! Source of harmonious life ! of systems Wondrous, and of great designs ! Thee, In thy universal plans, I dimly view ; But even that faint view so great, so Awful is, that did thy soften'd image Never meet my eye in mercy's page, O how should I approach thee ! How should I think on light ineffable And live 1 SONG. Of every flower that scents the spring To twine a wreath for Laura, bring. Haste with violets from the vale, Twist them with the spow-drop pa^e; Pluck the primrose ei;e it fade From the willow-spreading- shade ;-^ Cull the soHtary * flower From the abbey's haunted bower. Mingle with its iron hue Eglantine fresh bath'd in dew irrr- Weave the cowslip's gplden bdl . With the fox-glove of the dell ;-r- Daisy pale and daffodil From the ba7tI)or^i-scen|d Ifjii', Every sweetest flower of sprijig To twine a wreath for |-^ura, bring. Wallflower. A a DAYS THAT ARE GONE. As the shadows of eve, slow, pensive, and pale. Steal over the lake and deep-bosom'd vale. So softly should tremble, so mild be the wail. For days that are gone ! For pleasure is fleeting, and joy is a flowery Perfuming awhile life's varying bower, 'Tis past and affliction succeeds the gay hour Of days that are gone ! But the flower shall revive it shall blossom again. And gladness resume its enlivening reign. And the future shall smile as freely from pain, ' As days that are gone ! / MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 187 Then as the pale moon on the slumbering deep Keeps aerial vigils for wavelets that sleep. So calmly I sigh so gently I weep For days that are gone ! STANZA&. (-^ AN the ray of evening's star Cloud its light that gilds the sty ?- Or when gleaming bright afar, Can it close its brilliant eye ? Darting from its central home Can it roam unbounded space ? Where for countless years it shone, Brighter from unchanging grace. Can the breathing summer flowers 'Mid the snow of winter bloom ?-~. Weave their garlands in the bowers Bursting wild from nature's tomb ? Can November's stormy cloud, Summer's purple hue display ? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I89 Or when dafkness Weaves her sh^oud. View we still the golden diy? Can the ocean's wive be ctdih. And in placid murmurs die Or the air continue balm When December rocks the sky ? No ! the perfect law of heaven. Each its season has assign'd ; Nature to her works has given All her unity of mind ! Can the heart then toss'd unceasing On uncertainty's wild sea. Still possess the peaceful blessing,. Still with harmony agree ? Does not each vibrating passion Hope and fear, alternate swell ? Thrill with anxious expectation Kising at the point it fell p 190 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Yes ! and though high frowning reason Sometimes proudly reigns alone, Claims all power yet oft with treason^ Softer feelings shake her throp^ ! THE ROSE. Lovely evanescent flower, Produce of a summer shower ! Form'd beneath a sunbeam bright^ Transient as its fairy light ! Fleeting as the mist that flies From the crimson morning skies. When from ocean's swelling billow Sol first leaves his watery pillow. Smiling on elastic stem. Beauteous as an orient gem ; Zephyrs steal thy balmy breath Woo thee to a lover's death ! Bees enamour'd of thy lip. Revel there and nectar sip ; While the paradise of flowers Hail thee queen of beauty's bowers ! FRIENDSHIP. O LITTLE understood ! and seldom known, Where, friendship, dost thou fix thy heavenly throne? In what heart favour'd wilt thou stoop to reign- Inspire its bliss, and mitigate its pain ? Say, heaven-born stranger ! is it thine the link Which binds the souls who start from woe, and shrink Recoiling from misfortune's tearful eye r* Though 'tis their friend who weeps, they heave no sigh ! As shines the sunbeam on the crimson flower. Till gathering clouds obstruct its golden power. So when prosperity illumes the day, Unnumber'd friends shall tread the gilded way ; But quick a storm bursts on the unshelter'd head> Where are they notv ? alas ! they all arejled! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1^ t)r does thy hand the flow'ry wreath entwine. Uniting hearts in pleasure's league combin'd? Slaves to each other's ends, however gain'd. By fraud conducted by deceit obtain'd. Or is it thine, the still more trifling tie, Form'd by caprice, unloos'd without a sigh Maintain'd by whim, or by its power withdrawn. Fleeting and short-liv'd as the morning dawn ? So darts the meteor through the evening sky. Nor leaves one trace to mark its passing by ! So shine the colours of the orient bow. Till rains ascending fade its transient glow i " These are not mine I" indignant thou wilt cry. And swiftly gliding from thy native sky Shed thy pure beams on some expanded heart. To shew mankind thy power and what thou art ! There, like the moon with mildest ray serene, Thou'lt gild the long, long evening of life's dream. Chase every cloud from misery's darken'd sky. Relume the beams of sorrow's faded eye. Kiss with unchanging love the tears away That down the cheek in mournful silence stray, B b 194 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Clasp the pale form to thy yet faithful breast. And sooth each woe, and charm each care to rest ! And, O ! the heart in which thou lov'st to rest, Shall throb delighted when its friend is bless'd j When fortune's favours every moment shower. And ceaseless streams unfailing blessings pour ! Nor pleasure's search, nor interest's selfish gains Unites their hearts, their harmony maintains ; The adamantine chain of mutual love. Of high esteem of honour often prov'd, Congenial taste, and unity of mind. Forms the strong link which heart and feelings bind I And time who brings the lofty temple low, Marks with astonish'd eye their union grow ; His powerful scythe that breaks the towering oak. And bends the cedar with resistless stroke. Cements yet stronger the unsever'd chain. And stamps the impress of true friendship's name ! SONNET TO THE MOON. 1 HY trembling beam, thou silver moon. How soft its radiance lights the deep ; How calm beneath thy gentle noon. The exhausted waters sink to sleep ! And silent is the breeze of night. It wakens not the slumbering wave. But hush'd by thy lethean light- It seeks repose in ocean's cave. Sure the pure ether of thy sky Is hope's fair essence unalloy'd. For e'en our world beneath thine eye Feels peace illume its cheerless void, O say, fair planet ! do the storms Of want and cafe, of war and woe. 196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. E'er blight and fade thy children's forms^ And deathful lay their beauty low ? I gaze upon thee, but can find No answer in thy changeless hue, Or, if I aught of words divine, " Serenely peaceful," meets my view^ SONG. T^HEN the sunbeam of eve shines through the. elm tree That o'ershadows the hamlet of lake Alembee, 1 leave with gay heart my mountain retreat, And wind through the valley dear Merla to meet. So softly she blushes, so sweet is her smile. When waiting she views me leap over the stile. That the deer of the mountain no swifter can fly Than I to my girl, when the evening is nigh. And as with fond bosoms we wander along) I list with delight to her innocent song ; So wild and so artless the varying strain. So sweet is the subject, of love's bliss and pain. It tells me so fondly, in words so divine. The thoughts of my Merla, and that her heart's mincj^ That I hall through the elm tree the beam of the sun;^ For dear Merla is nigh, and my labour is done. soNa C/EASE thy dashing, torrent-water. Mar J sleeps, disturb her not; But with gentlest murmurs sootli her. Soft and peaceful as her lot. Spirits of each dying cadence ! Whisper to her virgin breast. Love as pure as vestal maiden's Evening hymn to angels bless'd !, A SUPPOSED ADDRESS TO SWITZERLAND, BY THE SPIRITS OF HER DEPARTED HEROES. Midnight voices loua and wiid> Echo'd o'er thy mountain crests, Switzerland, once freedom's child. Now of tyrants proiul the jest. " Rise, ere freedom's sun is set, *' Fast it sinks behind the main ; " And the wave that veils its light " Ne'er shall catch its glance again. " Rise to arms ! expel the foe,' " Nor of slavery wear the chain ; ^00 MISCELLANEOtJS POEMS; Ere too late, O strike the blow, " The blow which gives you life again.' " Rise ! and shed your dearest blood, " Give like us your lives away ; '*' Rush and stem dark slavery's flood) " Die like us in war's array !" " We, the spirits of the slain, " Slain in our dear country's cause, " On your mountain tops remain, " Stay to give out brethren laws !" ^' Hark ! the trumpet sounds afar, " See the embattled phalanx rise ! " Hear the mingled shouts of war ! " Soldiers, away, your country dies 1 ' *' Hah ! that warlike form 'tis Tell, " Freedom's son, he leaves the sky ; '" Wak'd by liberty's death knell, "" He comes to teach ye how to die 1" MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 201 * Death or freedom, be your cry, " Switzerland, your home, or grave ! " Warriors, rise ! to battle fly, "" Spurn the shackles of the slave !" C c ELEGY. If the sick heart, no future balm shall heal> Nor wearied souls in other worlds repose. If all the misery man is born to feel. Ends with his life, his being and his woes. Why lengthen out the uncomfortable dream With anxious hope and unremitting care. If in no brighter and no happier scene The toil-worn soul her wonted powers repair ? Sure when on misery's troubled sea we toss, 'Twere better far to plunge beneath the wave ; If all beyond is dark not great our loss. To exchange life's pain, for an unconscious grave ! So reason's doubt ; but midst the wavering gloom ** A small still voice" breaks the delusive spell. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 203 *' Vain man ! thou liv'st beyond the transient tomb," (Religion whispers all thy fears to quell.) " Woxxld heaven have form'd thee with such match- less care, *' Watch'd o'er thy infant years in manhood lost, " Transform thy shining locks to hoary hair, " Then seal thy fate for ever in the dust ?" " Were the fine springs of feeling only given " To throb more quickly to the touch of woe, " To edge misfortune if no future heaven " Its recompensive joy on man bestow ?" " Why does the flower in renovated bloom, " Scent with its fragrance each succeeding year ? " Why does it fade, even on the moss-grown lomht " Then blush-renew'd but to dispel thy fear !" *' The voice of nature in each silent vale, " If thou wouldst listen, could thy doubts remove; f' And every zephyr should repeat the tale, " That man was born for higher joys above !" 204 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ** Go, search the page on which heaven stamps its sea];, ** There read, believe, let reason be thy guide j *' The light of truth thy errors shall reveal, " And shew the fountain whence its beam's sup-^ plied." " Not like the sickly ray, whose glimmering pale " Casts a bewildering shade upon life's maze, " And faintly shews the horrors of the vale, <* Nor lights thee through like truth's superior blaze," " Then, mortal seek, and thou shalt find this light, ^* 'Twill be thy passport to some happier scene, *< 'Twill gild the gloom of death's approaching nightj^ Till heaven revivifies the eternal beam !" SONNET. O ! when the gentle summer moon Gleams soft and pale through silent groves^ And faintly twilight's shade illumes. Ere day's last ray she quite removes. So mild this hour, so sweetly fair, I would that it could ever stay ; And still the happy influence share^ Confin'd alone to Cynthia's ray ! But dearer far hi summer eve. For then her beam shines not so cold. Warm-breathing zephyrs round her wave^ And sunny clouds her form enfold. More bright descends the wintry beam. But swevter far the summer gleam. STANZAS, Ah bloom not thus ! ye lovely flowers. Nor scent the mournful room of death. Ah bloom not, as in happier hours Eliza prais'd your fragrant breath ! By her unheeded, now ye smile, Though in the pride of summer's glow ; Ah ! can your beauty now beguile Or cheer this hour of gloom and woe ? To sorrow's eye too gay ye seem. Congenial colour suits her best ; The sable hue of life's last dream. Is dearer than your gaudy dress ! Ah ! bloom not thus, but fade and die. And shed your wither'd leaves around; Ye torture misery's tearful eye. And smiling, mock her grief profound ! WRITTEN AT THE COMPLETION OF THE AUTHOR'S SEVENTEENTH YEAR. Back as I tum with retrospective eye9> 1 see, I feel, each vanish'd scene arise ; Sorrows and joys, in intermingled shades^ Flit o'er my mind their mellow-stinted rays. With soften'd colours pleasures gone appear, And sorrows f>ast return without their tear 1 Time, with his twilight wing o'ershadows pale^ The vanish'd scenes of life's eventful vale ; Yet leaves too strong the recollection drear. That misery preponderates for ever here ! One pleasure pays in price its worth away. As darkness follows at the close of day. 208 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS* O ! when the sunbeam of inspiring joy, Has shone delusive, without much alloy. With fearful look I've rais'd ray timid eye. To see if no dark clouds were passing by. No gathering storm in envious mischief dark> To wreck and founder my unshelter'd bark ! And, O ! it needs not a prophetic eye To scan the scenes in embryo which lie. To pierce futurity's untrodden maze. And learn the aspect of my coming days ; The present tells me, and the past informs, That seas serene, and oceans swell'd with storms. In future years successively must rise. As light and shadow on the evening skies ! For, O ! the hand that weaves the wreath of life. Among its roses plants the thorns of strife; Few of the former may adorn my way. The latter woimd as o'er my path I stray. Yet this I know, both shall the wreath compose, 1 leave just heaven to plant the thoi-n or rose / SONNET. Ah ! who would think beneath that waveless sea That rocks and quicksands death-destructive lie. Or that the calmness of that deep could be Lash'dinto storms, that with the smooth lake vlesl So on life's sea when all is calm and fair. Unshaded by a cloud, unruffled by a breeze. When trusting most we find the undreaded snare. And split on rocks beneath the mildest seas. Fate strikes the blow when least she seems to frown. And when she threatens changes oft her will ; Alike to her the cottage and the crown. Promiscuous is her goodness as her ill. Then, when propitious most she seems to smile. May caution teach me to suspect her guile. D d To TTHfe EVENING STAR. ijRIGHT star that wanderest o'er the deep ! Each lucid wave reflects thine eye, They love thy beam, and trembling keep Thy semblance from the cloud on high. Star of the deep ! Eliza once In earth's gay sphere shone bright as thee. But now remov'd for ever hence. She gilds no more life's doubtful sea. Yet o'er my mind her image fair. Gleams like thy ray with lustre pale. The beam of love, of goodness rare. Still quivers o'er this darken'd vale ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 211 'Tis as thy shadow, gentle star, So faint below on high so bright; A'ld streaming like thee from afar. It yields the same imperfect light. But mild that light, and dear that ray, And constant shall its influence prove, It cheers by niglit it sooths by day, 'Tis soft as was Eliza's love! Fair star ! at eve I oft would stray. And watch the blue wave drink thy beam. For then Eliza's heavenly ray Gleams brighter o'er the mental scene I DREAM. 1 HE blood-red moon shed a friglitful glare. And crimson'd Avith horror the darken'd air, Tipp'd with fire every mountain, and ting'd the black wave. That heaving discover'd the marijier's grave. Rocks, gulfs, and caves, tremendously frowii'd. Deep was the horror, the silence profound. I shudder'd in sleep as the scene I beheld, I breath'd not, and yet an existence I held Lock'd as with iron, my heart ceas'd to beat. Rooted and firm were my motionless feet. My eye in its socket was fix'd as a rock That stands and defies the lightning's shock ; When sudden I a cloud darker than chaos Rush'd o'er the moon, and extmguish'd her rays. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 213 Black, black was the darkness the silence more deep Than death's awful stillness, or nature's last sleep ! 'Twas the pause qf a moment, the thunder's loud crash Burst o'er the mountains the lightning's red flash Discolour'd the air, and rent the hard rocks. While earth, seas, and heaven, re-echo'd the shocks ! All was silent once more the noise died away In muttering sounds and hollow decay ; The conflict of nature's dark horror was past. The struggling elements breath'd forth their last ! The moon faintly gleam'd and the landscape appear'd One volume of smoke when a shriek met my ear More dreadful, more piercing, than language can tell. It might have proceeded from spirits in hell ! It rous'd me to life it thrill'd through my brain, 'Twas repeated I started it echo'd again ! I tum'd to the soimd at that moment the moon Stream'd with full glory, and banish'd the gloom, I saw what O horror .' no words can describe,^ I saw and awoke as I shudder'd and died ! AN ADDRESS TO MELANCHOLY, ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE. L/OME, pensive maid, from lonely cell. Pale melancholy with thee bring The cypress bough, and yew tree fell. The shadowy veil, and mystic wing ! To sorrow's note restring my lyre, O give it all her melting tones ! Such strains as Memnon's harp inspir'd. When Day resign'd to Night his throne. O come ! for at thy sable shrine A prince and people weeping bow, Receive their sighs as grief like thine. And in thy bosom seal their vow. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 2lS I'hou com'atand paler now thy look. More wildly sad thine eye-balls glare ; Deep is tlie sigh that may not weep, 'Tis echo'd ah ! it says despair ! 'Tis <^ell ! for nature points thine eye To Windsor's death-enshrouded pile ; There Charlotte and her baby lie. The hope, the joy, of Britain's isle! Drear is the midnight blast that sweeps Along the mansion of the dead, And hovering spirits vigils keep Witli him, whose hope on earth is fled) For midnight blasts have rent the rose. And torn it from its parent stem ; And Morn, (unconscious as she rose,) Weeps o'er her fallen diadem ! Religion mourn ! for virtue's fled Mourn nature ! beauty's cheek is pale> 216 MISCELLANEOUS fOfiMS. But, Britain mourn ! thy Charloile's dead Europa's lands, take up the wail ! And thou, lone maid, from cloister'd gloom Come, and with me a pilgrim rove. We'll pay our vows at Charlotte's tomb. And drop one tear on England's love ! STANZA. Have you seen the orb of day. Rise with splendour on the mom ? Saw ye not the golden ray Mountains, seas, and wooda adorn? Have you seen the cloud of even Floating in the lunar beain While the stars around were weaving Wreaths of light to crown their queen ? Yes ! but transient was the brightness. Sullen clouds o'erspread the sky ; Gloom and woe succeed to lightness. Tears to smiles, in mortal eye ! England's sun has lost a beam, The brightest beam that cfaeer'd our isle, Tis gone, and like a lovely dream. We mourn its evanescent smile ! E e STANZAS. At HY should we say that virtue dies. Or beauty moulders in the dust ? To heaven's high joys thej' trembling rise. And mingle with the good and just ! Why should we mourn our Charlotte's fate. And vainly sigh, and vainly weep ? Why grieve her bless'd unchanging state. As if 'twere an eternal sleep ? A brighter crown she now shall wear, A sceptre more supremely great A beauty more divinely fair And honours past the reach of fate ! THB ECHO. What are all the joys of earth- Riches, splendour, power, and birth ? What is beauty's fancied worth ? An echo I What is glory's empty name ? What the noisy trump of fame? All that monarchs, heroes, claim An echo! What is friendship's dear delight ? In fortune's smile a diamond bright. But in adversity's dark night An echo ! 220 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. What is Idve's delusive beam ? (Flitting o'er a gilded scene,) Not a flower, a sigh, a dream. An echo ! What is the fanatic's creed ? (Faith without a virtuous deed ;) Try it, and you'll find in need An echo ! But the humble prayer sincere,. Rising to a gracious ear. Listening angels earthward bear Its echo 1 Flitting through life's vale and bower,^ Its tone undying sooths each hour. For heaven eternaliz'd the power Of echo I THB TOUCH OF WOE, When the mind's delusive slumber Wakens at the touch of woe. And the sorrow-startled number Trembling moves in cadence slow,-* Though one only chord should quiver, Mem'ry's harp has countless strings, And the sympathetic shiver. O'er the whole delirious rings ! Every woe its descant singeth. Till the concert swells complete ; Sorrow past, her tribute bringeth To the present's mournful fete! 222 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 'Tis the twilight of the spirit. When the parting note has fled; Softest melancholy o'er it. Breathes a calm of sainted dead. ? " Hope and fear, and wild emotion. Sleep like summer's mildest wave. When amid the peaceful ocean Evening shrouds the sailor's grave J Mem'ry with her busy finger. Paints no more life's landscape fled. For the clouds that near her linger. Pale her pencil's tinting red. O ! who has not lov'd this feeling-r- Lov'd and woo'd its longer stay ? 'Tis the balm of sorrow, healing Wounds which ne'er might' see the day !" ! who has not mourn'd in sadness When the charm dissolv'd in air ? Miscellaneous poems. 223 Though 'twere hope that whisper'd gladness. Still that whisper breath'd of care ! Still obtrusive with it carried World, and all its anxious scenes, Things forgot or distant tarried. In the soul's enchanted dream. ' Things that weeping fancy loves not When she weaves her pensive song ; Earth-bom cares her spirit suit not. Softer woes to her belong ! Woes like intermingled roses With the cypress and the yew. Tears of essence, sighs of muses. Indistinct as twilight's hue ! Yet, O stay, thou dear delusion ! Scom'd of reason, yet, O stay ! Mingle still thy sweet effusion. In the bitter cup of day. THOUGHTS ON HEARING THE DEATH BELL. What sound is that? it is the knell of death I O then my soul ! let the dread warning be The knell of earthly hopes, and fears, and vanities. Still let it sound, till folly quits her station. And all of trifling sickens at the tone ! The parting knell has mng'and yet its voice Seems lingering in the air with mournful sigh. As if it lov'd the melancholy office. And wept its parting with an earthly grave ! Dread grave ! what son of Adam hast thou now entomb'd ? Rich, poor, old, young, the learned, or the foolish^ Which is thy prey ? insatiate in blood ! An infant born and dying in one breath I MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 225 Now thou art kind indeed it left no joy behind, But 'scap'd a world of woe when passing through Thy gatej and, beaming from afar. Its cherub eye may view the danger past. With grateful tear for its thrice happy fate! May wondering gaze on the dark throb of woe. That heaves in ether with tumultuous swell; And blots the fair horizon well-nam'd earth ! A prison drear, that binds the indignant Soul, in chains of bondage, woe, and misery ! Bless'd babe! thy flight was ta'en in happy time 1 For on thy infant bud the chilly wind Of poverty, would blightingly have blown ; And vice concomitant, have nipp'd thy bloom. And rooted out thy virtues ; nor wouldst thou Then, as now, have been to bowers of joy Sweetly transplanted a weed perchance uprooted, " A cumberer of the ground," on earth's polluted Garden might'st have lain, till the dread Day of doom. Blossom of paradise ! How fair thy beauty, and how bless'd thy lot! F f SONGS OF THE SONG OF THE EOSE. I BREATH'D my last sigh on a beauty's breast, When for a birth-day she was gaily dress'd ; And to Flora's airy bower^ Flew the spirit of a flower ! Earthly spring is here confin'd. Flora can the chains unbind ; Set the prison'd zephyr free, Grive the bird its wonted glee. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 227 I her messenger to earth. Often give a flow'ret birth ; Yield to chilly forms of death Blooming life artd fragrant breath. When the sleeping snow-drop lies, 'Tis my voice that says " arise;" When the crocus starts to birth, I command the loosen'd earth ; Summer flow'rets rise and fall At my delegated call ; Autumn yields his faded' rose To the hand that form'd its glows ; Nature gives to Flora power Over garden, mead, and bower. Come dance and sing In sunny ring. For here we breathe eternal spring ! SONG OF THE VIOLET. -I CLOS'D in death my dark blue eye. When Laura's blush betray 'd her shy .* Torn from my shade. An emblem made Of modesty which ne'er can fade, I trembling sought Elysian bower. And blossom an immortal flower. Now brighter dew ^ Weeps o'er my blue, For still I wear a pensive hue. Then gayer flowers may dance and sing. Mid aerial bowers, in sunny ring, I only smile in endless spring ! SONG OF THE LILY. Innocence a murderer prov'd. Hapless hour when Strephon lov'd ! Seizing on my snowy bell, He bore me from the humble dell An offering to a spotless maid. That dwelt like me in lowly shade. Come dance and sing In sunny ring, For here we breathe eternal spring ! SONG OF THE PRIMROSE. -DABY fingers form'd my grave Underneath the willow's shade ; Tore me from the vernal gale. That lov'd and woo'd my beauty pale i Simple, unobtrusive flower, I dreamt no mischief near my bower. Till sighing I resigned my breath Into tlie cold embrace of death ; But from that breath an essence flew. In form a primrose, and in hue ! Then dance and sing In sunny ring. For here we bireathe eternal spring f SONG OF THE WALLFLOWER. Victim of untoward love, I flit a gentle shade above : ^'elancholy sought my bower. And listless pluck'd her fav'rite flower, Strew'd all around My leaves on the ground. For love had made a cureless wound ! Come dance and sing In sunny ring. For here we breathe eternal spring ! SONG OF THE DAISY. -N O beauty to attract the eye. My form was pass'd unheeded by ; I bloom'd my destin'd life away Amid seclusion's happy day. E'en biting gales that nip the rose. And bend the myrtle's graceful boughsj Wav'd- gently o'er my sheltering thorn, The type of poverty forlorn. Unseen I liv'd, and peaceful died. With mild contentment by my side. Come dance and sing In sunny ring, For here we breathe eternal spring ! CHORUS. xxAPPY spirits, dance and sing, Cloudless sunshine forms our ring ; Golden breezes, crystal dews. Fan and bathe our aerial hues. Flora gives her fav'rite flowers, Joy eternal as their bowers ! Twine a wreath of sunbeams fairy. Mingle beauty's essence airy, Weave the lucent tint above With the hue of earthly love ; Twine a wreath for Flora's brow. Twine it all and twine it now ! Dip it in the fount of bloom. Where the flowers receive perfume ; Dip it in the vital spring. Whence the flowers existence bring ; G ff ^34 MISCELLANEOUS POEAIS. Bathe it in immortal light. Gem it o'er with starlets briglit ; Lucent ray from Cynthia's eye, Sliall our wreath together tie ! Twine a wreath and twine it now. Sunny wreathfor Flora's brow ! FOLLY. Know ye that passing form? the hues Incongruous, and the gaude and show, proclaim her Folly ; a thing whose very soul Seems mingled in its dress, and silk-entangled In a maze of ribbons ! It might pass on, (as whims flit o'er The brain by reason's power unheeded. Or as the dew-drop from the cedar flies. When tempest-shaken ;) a trifle's very essence ! But look beyond this frippery ; Surrey the mental part, that little world Whose flower, or weed, its soil and culture shews. What has the search produc'd ? A dreary waste, in which no spot is found Of verdure, or of beauty, a wilderness Of weeds rank and empoison'd ! And does nojlowcr amid this liideous growth 236 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Rear its pale head ? and by its withering leaf Proclaim a feeble contest 'gainst the Powers of mildew, thorns, and poison ? None, none, and jiity's ready tear Back to its source may turn ! , No generous purpose there, with upward ray. Beams from tlie eye, no bright intelligence Of mental energy, or sober light of Thought, with feeling's tear begeram'd ! No sleeping virtue, waiting for the hour That shall its dormant qualities call forth Can there be found ! nor active source Of good, of charity, and truth ! But envy's blighting plant in unexhausted twine Extends its maze, and wraps the hated forms Of genhis and of worth! like ivy's chill embrace. At whose fell touch the empress of the Woods droops mournfully, and sheds her wither'd acorns 1 Detraclioii's bloated leaf is there thrice potent. And on the head of excellence its mildew sheds \~ While *g^o'erweening vanity commingles MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 237 With nursing juice, to feed the bitter plants Which, by their own asperity might wither. On soil as scorch'd and arid! E'en Wisdom's steady eye at the first Glance is startled, and claims a second look To wake her slumbering aids, of scorn. And cool contempt ! But these ere long are useless ; through The murky cloud that would envelope her In kindred hue, she darts her radiant Eye, unconscious of the foes That at her lustre sicken. They, To her mind absorbed, are things As they were not, and ne'er had been ! She knows not, that the same existence Binds in one frail link, their beings Uncongenial ; or, if at times remember'd, 'Tis safety's smile that on their weapons beams | Or such a glance As eagles bend on glow-norms. When sol from their undazzled eye Withdraws his Ught ! SONG. Jr ANCY cull'd the flowers at morn Beauty wore them in her breast, Dew-begemm'd from twilight's urn. The silver droppings starr'd her vest. Fancy cull'd the flowers at noon. Beauty twin'd a garland fair ; Evening came the silent tomb Clos'd the faded flow'rets there ! Fancy wept o'er beauty's urn, Wreath'd her brow with cypress tree, Cull'd no more the flowers at morn. But pensive sang as grief may be ! SONG. vJ ! WHY in the midst of luxuriant nature. Should man discontented and peevishly stray ? Why mourn, when felicity breathes in each feature. And blooms in the cheek of the sweet-scented May? The trees in gay foliage and roseate blossom, To gales undulating their beauty display. And ask but a smile from the wandering bosom, Tliat will not be happy in nature's birth-day ! Shall self and its sorrow, for ever engross us. And veil the bright landscape ere twilight is near? No, perish the thought ! it was painted to bless us. And steal from the eye-lid its grief-dimming tear. O then ! to the fountain of bliss and of beauty. Let anthems of gratitude joyfully rise ; The bird in its grove is performing this duty, Ere morning descends from the slumbering skies ! BALLAD. At morn in Transylvanian bower, When dew-drops glisten'd on the flowBt'i The marriage bell rang sweet and clear To many a peasant's listening ear. But, ah ! in Transylvanian bower Loud thunder mark'd the evening hour, And darkness threw his sable shroud O'er twilight's pale and infant cloud. Andjightning as it darted by A voice seem'd from the frowning sky, For mortal tongue ne'er utter'd sound. That shriek'd the trembling woods around ! Twas horror, singing o'er despair A funeral song> that rent the air. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 241 'Twas murder's deep and mingled cry- That rush'd in piercing accent by ! Dark was the height where Valmer stood. And held his true love o'er the flood. Frantic his eye, for wild the flame Suspicion kindled in his brain. " Ciirs'd be thy birth, and curs'd the grace " That beams in that bewitching face, " And curs'd the art that strove to win, " That leads me to this deed of sin !" " Did I not see him ? O that hour ! " Eternal vengeance on thee shower ! " This morn thy vows to me were plighted, " At noon, thou know'st how they were alighted !" She rais'd to heaven her deep blue eye. No tear she dropp'd, and heav'd uo sigh. Her cheek was pale, but not from fear ; For innocence was sleeping there ! H h 242 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. " Die ! traitress, die !" he wildly cried. And hurl'd her o'er the mountain's side. Then rush'd along, but rushing fell. How low, the lightning's flash can tell I Her bridal garb at morn so fair, Arrang'd with love's fastidious care. Now floats beneath the turbid wave. By peasants call'd, " the victim's grave." But where is he, whom lightnings shiver'd ? ' At mortal touch to dust he fell. And the sear'd earth and herbage wither 'd The spot accurs'd to travellers tell. THOUGHT. At HEN sullen clouds obscure the sky. And veil the sun's translucent eye, Does he not shine as bright and fair Above the gloom, in purer air? So when a blindly judging world On merit casts a shading veil. With brighter glow its lustre burns Beneath a cloud that meant to pale ! The mist that wreaths the mountain's side Er^ morning parts the circling shade. Its lonely flower may only hide, A:ul sullies not one verdant blade! 244 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. So when detraction's envious haze O'er genius weaves her darkling air^ Beneath, with undiminish'd rays. The gem of mind is sleeping fair 1 " I have Been all the works that are done under the sun; nil, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit." Ecclesiastes. The world is what? " a cheat," Hilario cries, ** A gilded ruin, and a polish'd snare ; "Its breath is slander, and the feverish ill Note. It is scarcely necessary to observe that the human species are in a state of continual warfare with each other, that the strong literally prey upon the weak, and the weak upon that which is still more feeble; -or that our passions are the sources, fwl oiUij of our own imiivldiwl misery, but ctintain in themselves the power of diffusing incalculable mischief, throughout so large, or small a part of the world, as our influenee, in other respects, may happen to extend. But, from the philosip'u-r who reasons subtikly, to the simple peasant who saeks for no other demonstration than his own observation and experience, uU acknowlodge, that tliere is no passion in the human breast so deiestabli; in its ni/iiri; so de- ttructivc In its vonsequmces, nor so awJuUy univctiiU, as SLANDER. It is the canker-worm of the bosom the baue of the domestic circle, the silently working mischief which has undermined states and subverted empires, nay, which has in these latter days raised its impious arm to heaven, and in the voice of atluUtic raad-^ pess dared omnipolctu-:- to his face ! ! How then shall wiak aud erring mortals escape its |>oisonous biealh? ^46 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. '* Infectious mingles in the life of man. *' And in its wild delirium it d)es utter " Things of strange import, which, like ** The ravings of a madman, sometimes " Bear the hue and stamp of reason ; " And blindly judging man hugs to his breast " The dark deceit, no^ sees distemper'd " Images in each Phantasmagorian picture." And are not seasons pass'd when all have Thus soliloquiz'd ? nay at this moment Does not many an eye drop its last, Lingering tear, o'er the deluding charm Which painted every breast as guileless As its own and sketch'd with tint Edenic Fancy's roseate world ; and thought each " Whited sepulchre" a joy each gay deceit A fair reality ? " Oh yes !" full many a Heart responsive sighs. Then why Make Us " dread laugh" our misery ? Why sink beneath its frown, when Heaven perchance may smile the soft Approval! Is it omnipotent .'' on what ItflSCELT.ANEOUS I'OEMS. ^4? High basis are its laws erected, that tlui/ Should be eternal ? where are its judgments Graven ? and where its register of frowns And smiles ? The morning breeze That wanders o'er the flower and spends Its little breath in the enjoyment-^is Not more departing. And can the fiat Of a datf doom me to woe unending, or Its fickle smile insure my present bliss. Or future joy ? Ah no ! then I would say, O ! be not anxious for its poor applause. In justice seldom founded ; nor sink Beneath its censure, oftentimes far less Deserved and more unjust But be More anxious to deserve the approving Smile of Heaven though in gaining tvhich The tvorld should frown ; O heed it not, For His all-searching eye pierces the Labyrinth of mind, and traces to its source Each word and deed, and oft the motive loves Where men the action cannot understand, Or blindly disapprove. And when the 248 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS* World's poor praise would be the price Of Heaven's displeasure fly from its Syren tongue shrink from its dire Embrace the serpent's venom'd sting Is not more sure of death. It punishes At last its altar's dearest votary; His sacrifice is not remember'd, no, nor All his incense, ^'wi/ece flies its Rod, and mercy its dark chastisement. And the whole penalty" is deeply paid ! But more imgenerous still, it mocks His fond credulity ; it holds the glittering Toy with which it lur'd before his Aching eye, now stripp'd of all its beauty^ And asks, " what have ye barter'd ** For this tinsel ? what ? not a " World though that were much not " A crown though men do worship it, *' But ye have sold that pearl of endless " Price yoiir soul's integrity all that, " Which (through the merit of a ransom *' Paid) ye might have hop'd to gain MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 249 " Hereafter !" Such is the language of The world o'er its deluded votary suck Its triumph o'er the hapless fallen ! Now mark the contrast. Listen to The voice whose seraph accents whisper " Peace to man ;" " Repent, and ye shall " Live," nay, " were your sins of crimson's " Deepest die, they shall be white as wool !" And your reward for this heart-humbling is Eternal life ! ! I i SCENE. 1 HE hour of closing bud was pass'tl. And summer shades were thick 'lung fast, Till o'er the broad expanse of heaven One deep black cloud, imbroken even By the last, lingering streaks of day. Portentous roll'd its silent way ; But quickly stopp'd, with wondering awe, For night such beauty never saw- yVs on the sky's most eastern verge Yrom fancy's land did seem to emerge. The cloud stood still ! it durst not shade A picture so divinely made. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 251 And silciitfe on the tree-top hung. And to the earth her mandate sung, " That hill and vale should breathe no sigh, " But be like her, all ear, or eye !" The aerial landscape spread not far Nor compass'd many a radiant star, ^ But in its measur'd space did bear All beauty of the upper air. Amid a plain of crystal light The full-orb'd moon shone deeply bright ; No longer pale, her awful hue Seem'd burnish 'd gold 'mid lucent dew. Nor did slie throw around her beam To gild the black cloud's thteat'ning mien. But glorious in concentred ray Her light seem'd that of orient day Bright buriting o'er the mountain's crest. When earth lies wrapp'd in twilight's vest ! And round her azure-glancitig throne Admiring stars resplendent shone, Like morning's tears^ that golden lie On violet's bluely-tinted eye. 252 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Yet not complete the picture seem'd Till round its form, a. frame I deem'd. Of purple cloud harmonious roU'd, In perfect shape and outline bold ! Again, beneath this shading lay A Avave as white as ocean's spray. When bursting in a sunbeam's eye,. And mingled light and water fly. Nor is tlie picture yet complete. For where the earth does ether meet, (Or seems to meet,) the horizon's sweep A mirror seem'd so clear, so deep. That every tree wliich crown'd the hill. Its silent image saw at will ; And seem'd to speak its sombre hue As all expos'd it stood to view, " Put forth thy green^-for morning's eye - " Is glancing o'er the eastern sky ! " Put forth thy green the flower is bright f' Beneath her rosy-tinted light ! *' Put forth thy green the lambkin wakes,|^ And birds are murmuring in the brakes I MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 253 *' Put forth thy gfreen~her breath inhale, ** And scent the early-roving gale !" I gaz'd around above below My fancy caught the inspiring glow; It seem'd as if the ethereal powers Amid their light-en woven bowers- Were painting on cerulean die The unknown beauties of the sky ; - And dropp'd their curtain, lest the view Should steal too much of heaveidy hue ! Perchance some jealous sprite had seen The eye which drank the wncurtain'd scene. And bid the cloudy mischief roll Its shading film from pole to polcj For as I gaz'd the picture fled. And darkness all his horrors shed ! Not from the ever-changing sky With swifter glance do colours fly. Than from the mind their mem'ry fadea When other scene, or hue invades ; But there are spells in magic thought Tq bind that which is soon forgot ^ 254 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And there are naa)es, and times, and things. Which have not, like gay fancy, wings. And when remembrance tells them o'er. Their kindred scenes again recur ! tiote. This is no fancy scene but one of the most beautiful realities that ever adorned an evening sky. Wlien I endtavour mentuUp to resuscitate tlie picture, I feel how very imperfectly J must convey any idea of the original. FINIS^ This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. MAY 1 31983 REMINGTON RAND INC. 20 213 (533) 3 1158 00861 7192 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000 081 726 2