snKKSSSSSHSS THE VISION OF JUSTICE AND OTHER POEMS. THE VISION OF JUSTICE AND ®i\tx |p0cws. BY HYDE PARKER. LONDON : WARD, LOCK, & CO., WARWICK HOUSE, DORSET BUILDINGS, SALISBURY SQUARE. PR TO SIR WILLIAM PARKER, BART., THE Following Poems are Inscribed AS A Sincere Token of Friendship and Goodwill by His Affectionate Cousin, THE AUTHOR. ft n i-.OO 4 Q ERRATA. Page 21, verse 1, line l,for " last " read " lost." Page 28, verse 4, line 3, for " had chanced " read " he chanced." Pa^e 32, verse 3, line 4, for "No accents from my lips you hear," read "From me no accents mayst thou hear." Pacje 47, verse 4, line 4, for "No knee to the Gath would they bend," read "No knee to the Gittite they'd bend." Page Gl, stanza i., line 2, for ' ; Which boasted of its theatre and its stronghold," read " Which boasted of its theatre and stronghold." Page 78, stanza xliii., line 2, for " goes " read " go." Page 91, verse 2, for " dui " read " diu." Page 107, stanza lxx., line 8, for "Shall pour of soul of thank- fulness to thee," read " Shall pour our soul of thankfulness to thee." Page 109, line 1, for "Thus, thus I fear I shall die," read ° " Thus, thus I fear me I shall die." Page 111, stanza i., line 8, for " why " read " what." Page 116, stanza iii., line 1, for "The joys Spring spreads to my view," read " The joys that Spring spreads to my view." Stanzas 42 Stanzas ... ±a Stanzas i. .; ■ • • • • '-. : ! i ' i "«'■■ ■ i • CONTENTS. _*_ PAGE The Vision of Justice 1 The Kiss op Death .. .. 13 The Colours of the 24th .. .. 14 Elegiac Stanzas .. 15 Mary Stuart's Farewell 16 The Martyr King .. 18 Spanish and English Maids .. 19 The Prophecy of Carolan .. 20 In Fratris Memoriam .. .. 21 " Caro mio ben " .. 23 In Memoriam — Charles Mathews .. .. 24 Espana — 1873 26 The Lovers .. 27 Bruce .. 28 Sing, my Caged Minstrel .. 30 The Echo .. 31 Sleep on, Sleep on .. 32 The Fairy Casket .. 33 To Miea .. 34 Undine .. .. 35 Vt'lNKKLRIED .. 39 In Memoriam — Captain Hyde Parker .. 40 Stanzas .. 42 Stanzas .. .. 43 Stanzas ... 44 Vlll Contents. PAGE HOPE 45 Ruth . 46 David's Lament . 47 The Voice of God . 48 Dream-land ... ... ... ... 49 Pitcairn's Island . 52 Prologue to "The Rivals"' ... ... . 59 The Fancy Ball 61 A Riddle ... . 81 Epigrams . 82 Emma Mine ... . 84 Latin Verses 86-97 Horace — Ode X. ... ... ... 98 Ode XXI 98 „ Ode XXX 99 Ode XXXVIII 100 Translation from " Le Misanthrope " 101 Sur le Collier d'un Chien 102 Translation from Racine 103 From La Fontaine ... 104 From Tasso 106 Song from the Spanish 108 Evening Hymn ... ... ... 110 New Love, New Life ... 111 The Stranger Maiden (Schiller) 113 The Boy by the Stream (Schiller) ... 115 Hope (Schiller) 117 I TJRhz "yisi^n at Rustics. 'T^WAS noon of night, the flick'ring fire burnt low, I watched in silence its expiring glow — While from the sacred tower the deep'ning chime In long vibrations tolled the knell of Time. Like adverse winds that will not sink to rest, So thoughts conflicting warred within my breast, Assuming shapes at Fancy's weird desire, Adown those lurid avenues of fire. At intervals some ember's fitful spark Would, half reviving, flash from out the dark ; On floor and ceiling glimm'ring rays would fall, And forms fantastic shoot along the wall ; O'er the grim splendour of a pictured past That hung around me in tbat chamber vast, O'er many a gartered earl and noble maid, The demon shadows of the firelight played. While thus 1 gazed upon their ghostly dance, On miud and body fell a mystic trance ; b The Vision of Justice. A subtle spell o'er me began to creep — I seemed balf dreaming, tho' I could not sleep. Clearly I beard a gentle rustling sound As of a garment trailing on the ground. I turned to look, with limbs as cold as stone, I saw — great Heaven ! — tbat I was not alone. Before me there in shadowy outline stood A spectral form that froze my very blood : The moon just then, emerging from her veil, Shed o'er the figure her effulgence pale ; In huge proportions, towering to the skies, Robed all in white, Astrasa met these eyes. Fear fled — and reverent awe assumed its place At her cold lineaments' majestic grace. Where were her classic symbols ? In one hand She grasped the remnant of her shivered brand ; Green with disuse, corroded by the shower, Her broken scales betrayed her shattered power ; These hung suspended to her zone-girt waist, That zone where " Justice " once was clearly traced ; But now so faint those golden letters shone, Like faded names upon memorial stone. Unbandaged flashed the anger of her eyes, As blinding as the lightning of the skies ; Thus with stern charms appeared before me then The awful goddess of the rights of men. The Vision of Justice. " Fear not," she said, in accents so benign, The words were human, but the voice divine. " Fear not, for / am now no longer feared, In this strange land my reign its end hath neared, Here once my rights were ev'ry Briton's theme, My judgments finite, and my rule supreme ; Where'er in discord angry murmurs grew My equal balance gave the verdict true ; Tho' long delayed as sure as passing Time I followed like Tisiphone on crime. Where'er he crouched I found the abject slave, And with one stroke the penal vengeance gave. Once 'twas the pride of Britons to declare On British soil breathed Freedom's native air; Vain, impious boast, and worthless as 'tis vain, "When o'er these hands they dared to cast a chain ; My bonds I broke as Samson burst the ropes, These riven links proclaim their baffled hopes ; Primaeval Justice brooks no rival power, Her charter dates from Eden's heavenly bower. Since then in ev'ry clime and ev'ry age, My champions' deeds illumine history's page, Blush, venal Greece, if blush thou canst, for shame, Unworthy now of Aristides' name, AVhose title proud survives his humble dust, The rare but simple title of ' The Just.' b 2 The Vision of Justice. "Whilst Rome enshrines her own immortal four, "Who sacrificed their all to duty's law; Two noble Consuls* once could sternly mask A father's feelings for a judge's task. Fabricius' will no vulgar gift controlled, Too rich in honour to be bribed by gold ; "Whilst Regulus by death for ever shows How justice deals alike to friends and foes. "When Britain first received my welcome sway, Bear witness, Runny mede's triumphant day, "When struck by Freedom's lightning from the skies Lo ! on the ground the feudal fabric lies. A despot court, six centuries of lust, Had levelled Gallia's lilies with the dust ; Then Revolution, like a wayward child, "With Freedom's torch spread conflagration wild ; How, for a season, all the fiends of Hell Ran rampant, her own Saturnalia tell ; But, Phoenix-like, I rose from ruin's blaze, And Western nations blessed my heavenly rays. Still, still afar in many a Western land, Where Nature shed her gifts with lavish hand, Tho' suns shone bright, and ev'ry flow'r was fair, All, all but Freedom seemed to flourish there ; * Lucius Junius Brutus and Manlius Torquatus. The, Vision of Justice. To Justice, in their slavedom's dreary woes, The supplicating wail of millions rose ; I heard their cry, and straight to Britain gave The glorious right to free th' enshackled slave ; With one accord the sacrifice was made, To Satan's hounds the priceless ransom paid. That grand design recalls a deathless name Emblazoned on th' immortal page of fame, Where Wilberforce towers up to Heaven sublime, A philanthropic giant to all time. In holy Russia still cowered servile hordes Beneath the cruel knout of feudal lords, When Alexander, fired by Britain's zeal, For e'er on serfdom placed th' imperial heel ; Forth from the throne was sent the just decree, And twenty million helots were set free. Since then my sword of right on many a field Has Britain had the pi-ivilege to wield, To check barbarian chieftains' lustful pride, And 'gainst oppression guard the weaker side ; Witness the day when on Magdala's height Her thin red line avenged a savage spite ; Like Saul, self-slain, the warrior-monarch falls, While floats the victor's standard o'er his walls ; The Ashantee as stern a lesson learnt, When to the ground he saw Coomassie burnt ; The Vision of Justice. How, in my cause, six hundred heroes fell For e'er, alas ! shall Isandula tell ; Finn to the death the little phalanx stood, And taught their foes how dear was British blood ; With brighter fame immortalised shall be Rorke's Drift, the African Thermopylae, Where Chard and Bromhead raised that stubborn wall, And by their splendid courage saved Natal. My cause abroad 'tis fruitless to maintain, If I enjoy at home a fettered reign ; What rival power has trespassed on my realm — From out these hands has dared to seize the helm ? Law is my rival — once my hopeful son, For Law and Justice erst were reckoned one ; His mother's words her son no longer heeds. Howe'er at times she passionately pleads. Soon in new spacious courts he'll be installed, For Courts of Law, not Justice, are they called ; A paper porcupine where'eer he goes, His rustling presence frights his timid foes ; In search of right the poor man halts before He trusts the mazy windings of the Law ; The rich alone such luxuries may share, And leave off poorer than at first they were. Cadmean contests, where the victors lose In costs enormous what their counsel choose ; The Vision of Justice. His hirelings, oft too learned in the Laws, Show splendid talents to defeat my cause ; Not soon will Edward Froggatt be forgot, The mean abettor of a ghastly plot ; In Dimsdale, too, a legal traitor see, Who learnt how stern the laws he broke can be. But Caledonia balked my willing hand In dealing vengeance on the Glasgow band ; ' Stay now thy lash,' she said, ' thine arm is strong, It does not pay to keep my felons long ; ' So, thro' her well-known parsimonious care, Scant punishment for one the two* now share. Oh, had they liv'd a hundred years ago, The Tolbooth would have seen a fearful show ; Above her walls two ghastly forms of death, A surging mob of yelling fiends beneath. Deep buried in the gulf of endless shame, For ever damned lies loathsome Potter's name, Who kept the Sabbath strictly sans reproche ; But on the Monday robbed another's poche. A Pharisaic hypocrite, whose spoil Was poor men's hoardings saved by honest toil, The orphan's all, the widow's little store, Both vanished in his speculative maw. * Potter and Stronacb. 8 The Vision of Justice. The rifled palace and the ruined cot, Each tell of sorrows not so soon forgot. Truly the heathen poet sang of old, ' Naught will man shrink from in his thirst for gold. ' * May visions of the ruin Potter spread Haunt him like phantoms on his dying bed ! May glaring demons dance before his eyes, And mock his cursed spirit as it flies. Now ornamental amateurs at Law, Yclept " J.P.'s," the Chester rustics awe ; Dressed in their brief authority of pride, Their hobby-horse of power to death they ride ; My sword they wield as Draco did in Greece, And punish Moran as they would a Peace ; Perchance their blundering brains may learn in time Misfortune's not synonymous with crime ; Till then their magisterial rights efface, A school-boy's bench for them's a better place. What cruel wrongs — alas for legal shame ! — Centred themselves in William Habron's name, Whose reputation with the world unstained With superhuman effort I regained ! But oh, so mean in heart were those in power, They paralysed my arm in triumph's hour ; Quid non mortalia pectora cogia Ami sacra fames ! " j&neid III. 56. The Vision of Justice. And when the day of liberty had come They sent him forth iu shackled freedom home. Now, son of mortals, thou thyself shalt see How blind at times my rival's hirelings be, False sentence giving with mistaken zeal, Such wounds inflict, they never hope to heal." The Goddess ceased, and raised her arm on high To where the polished panel met my eye ; With furtive movement oped the oaken wall, And darkness seemed at first to cover all ; By the returning light at length I saw In all its vivid life a Court of Law. The ermined judge, the jury twelve were there, And the condemned, with look of wan despair ; The cap of Death o'er Minos' brow was set, And more than one all-pitying eye was wet ; On one white face was strained the gaze of all, One voice august broke silence in that hall ; That pale cheek grew e'en paler as it heard The sentence knelled forth slowly, word by word, Till the stern death-notes boomed with solemn toll, '• And may the Lord have mercy on your soul." Majestic o'er me then the Goddess bent, And breathed the thrilling words, " He's innocent ! :; I gazed, but saw no more — the court was gone, And in its place the oaken panel shone, 10 The Vision of Justice. Where, thro' the panes, the moonbeams coldly played With silvery radiance on the heavenly maid. Long gazed I on her countenance divine, "Where love and pride seemed strangely to combine, To whom a statuesque repose was given, Calm as the watchful sentinels of Heaven. Then spake the Goddess : " Son of mortals, hear A tale whose sadness mocks the human tear ! What thou hast seen in vision's pictured show, Was but the prologue to a life-long woe. The hangman did not gain his guiltless prize, To feast the morbid lust of fiendish eyes, For with an ancient Jesuit's cruel skill The Law can torture when it may not kill. That life in vain I saved with good intent, The legal scapegoat o'er the seas was sent ; Yes, Edmund Galley lives, to British shame, Beneath the stigma of a felon's name ; Better for him, for all, had he but died The blameless victim of judicial pride, Than thus to show himself in durance long A living martyr to acknowledged wrong. Oh ! who can paint those years of mental pain, The public court — the convict's clanking chain — But worse than prison form, or scanty food, Those vile associates of the devil's brood ; The Yisioyi of Justice. 1 1 As when the iierce demoniacs of old Raved their wild frenzy in a human mould, So there each vice and crime of hellish birth Clothed in their hideous forms these sons of earth. To minds like these, the pick of Satan's school, A guiltless victim seems a paltry fool, Treated it may be with a silent sneer, Perchance with scornful taunt, or mocking leer ; For baffled genius only they admire, And unsuccessful rogues respect inspire, But Galley's tortures who can hope to know Throughout those forty years of lengthened woe ? How oft he sighed for that Devonian home Where once his careless boyhood loved to roam— The vales and wooded slopes, the sparkling rill, The ancient city* throned upon a hill, And more than all, those dearly loved of yore Whose smiles shall greet him now on earth no more — All vanished with the irrevocable past, And he alone is left to bear the blast ! In vain for him I raised my pleading cry, Which those in power have passed unheeded by ; Each time defiance to my voice was set, Veiled in the form of pseudo-etiquette ; * Exeter. 12 The Vision of Justice. Yes, ' etiquette forbade them,' so they said, ' To hurt the feelings of the illustrious dead,' Who might perchance turn shuddering in their vaults If any dared to bring to light their faults. The Median sentence, be it right or wrong, They could not cancel when observed so long. Their scanty store of mercy had been drained When William Habron's freedom was regained. While those in power procure a fresh supply, Their second victim may unpardoned die, Set free by that Great Judge who can alone To him for all his injuries atone. Once more for him Astrsea intercedes, Once more with Law she passionately pleads ; Pardon alone his broken heart can crave, When tottering on the threshold of the grave. Bestow that pardon, as ye are Christian men, And thwart not Justice in her rights again. If not, no longer here I'll deign to dwell, And woe to Britain when I bid farewell ! " She ceased, and faded from my sight away. I oped my eyes, and it was glorious day. The sun was glancing on the oaken floor, The realistic dream of nicrht was o'er. "O* May, 1879. ( 13 ) Jpifre Kiss of J^D^ath. Suggested by Lord Beaconsfield's pathetic allusion to the death of H.R.H. the late Princess Alice. — o — I. A MOTHER bends her weeping eyes Upon the form she may not clasp, For Fever round his precious prize Has coiled himself with weak'ning grasp. n. .She may not touch — she may not kiss Those lips so red — those cheeks so fair ; Contagion in those buds of bliss All serpent-like lies hidden there. in. The flower that blooms so pure and bright All subtly now the poison hides ; 'Twixt mother's love and Reason's right A mother's love, alas ! decides. IV. She springs to him with wild embrace, Inhaling all his rosy breatli, But knew not, as he kissed her face, It was the fatal Kiss of Death. ( 14 ) XUe ©alonrs xxf the 24th. — * — i. 'rpWAS on that ever-fatal morn When demon force o'erwhelmed the brave, Who gladiatorial fought forlorn, And for each life ten death-blows gave. II. Beside the Buff 'lo's swollen stream Melville and Coghill sank to die. Their fight was o'er ; their sabres' gleam No more shall daunt the savage eye. in. Like Britons true they fought and died, When all but Honour's cause was lost, And saved those Colours of their pride At life's stern sacrificial cost. IV. "Tis ours those Colours to enshrine, So dearly bought by heroes' blood ; Then place them in the fane divine, For valour glows a fire from God. ( 15 ) ~J5}eginc Stanzas Written at the Request of a Friend on a Young Lady who was Bride and Widow within Six Months. I. rPHY short, sweet dream of bliss is o'er, Tho' scarce hath fled thy bridal mora ; With grief thy breast is stricken sore, And from thy heart thy Love is torn. ii. Where lately on thy happy brow Entwined the orange blossom wreath, Thy widow's sable tokens now Betray thee as the bride of Death. in. All mirage-like the future rose, Elysian to thy hopeful eyes ; But now, too soon, bereavement shows What desert waste before thee lies. IV. And as, when midst the parting storm, The rainbow's hues of promise shine, E'en so may Hope, in rainbow form, Shed comfort on that heart of thine. ( 16 ) Jl^ari} CZivieen of Scots' ]EaiW£l1 — *■ — Q LOWLY the galley moved, ^ As if half conscious of the heart it tore From that dear land so passionately loved — From Calais' fading shore. II. All thro' that livelong night Had Mary yearned to view those cliffs again, And tho' the morn had blest her thirsting sight, 'Twas but a boon of pain. in. Her couch lay on the deck, Dewed by her lustrous eyes with glistening tears, For to her breast that faint receding speck Recalled most cherished years. IV. Years when the days had wings, And sped as swiftly as the joys they brought, Years o'er which childhood fascination flings, With innocency fraught. Mary Queen of Scots' Farewell to France. 17 v. Close had that childish heart Clung to that land, e'en as its native vine Around the stakes, with nature's simple art, Its loving arms doth twine. VI. While round her shrieked the birds, And the dim shore was fading into blue, With tears she sighed the fondly spoken words, " Adieu, chere France, adieu !" ( 18 ) Jplfcje 0HnvUjv King. i. rFHE tragedy is over, From Charles's princely brow The regal diadem is snatched, And England's kingless now. ir. Along the silent roadway, With tend'rest loving care, Their murdered master's headless corse His faithful servants beai\ in. The winter sun is setting, With deep and lurid glow ; And slowly from the leaden sky Descends the feath'ry snow. IV. Upon the mournful bearers The airy flakelets fall, And robe the monarch's simple bier As with a saint's pure pall. v. It was a holy symbol, By nature's voice exprest, That a spirit, spotless as the snow, Had gained eternal rest. ( 19 ) Spanish and English g®>aids, — o— i. YTEATH warmer climes let others seek Those soft, voluptuous, downcast eves — That mellow flush on beauty's cheek, As tints the clouds when daylight dies. n. I love the large, blue, melting eye That flashes from a Saxon face, Pure as the maiden's native sky — With all its truth-bespeaking grace. in. Of Spanish maids' wild waving hair, Dark as the raven's glossy wing, Streaming like storm-clouds on the air, Let lovers fond impassioned sing. IV. I love the silken locks that flow In streams of gold or auburn hue, O'er which the breezes love to blow, And sigh to breathe their fond adieu, v. Let others seek, let others praise, The Spanish maid's soul-winning smile; They cannot boast those open ways That grace the daughters of our isle. c 2 ( 20 ) Jp£th£ ^vopluaM) of CSfarohm. — o — ■ i. |~ ADY, the muse of joy hath flown, A mystic spell enchains this lyre ; Hark to the weird and death-like tone That breathes from ev'ry trembling wire. ii. In vain my fluttering fingers ply Their art to wake a joyous strain ; Lady, for thee my harp-strings sigh, Thy daughter will not long remain. in. 'Tis this, 'tis this that lulls in gloom The echoes of each tuneful string — Thy rose shall perish in its bloom Ere it can feel the winter's sting. IV. So true he spake, prophetic bard. When autumn tinged the leaves with red, No more Elvira's voice is heard — For she is with the quiet dead. v. Beside her tomb on many an eve Her parents stand with faces wan, And there all silently they grieve, And sighing think of Carolan. ( 21 ) :Hn JUratns Cfi>gmoriaw. — * — i. OH ! they who die young are the fav'rites of Heaven, And thou, our last darling, art numbered with those, For to mortal no lovelier spirit was given Than a spirit like thine, that was bright to its close. ii. Yes, bright to its close, when upon thee dear eyes With sorrow bedimmed were in tenderness cast. And which gazed as we gaze at an arc of the skies. When in coloured gradations 'tis vanishing fast. in. And as oft when 'tis faded we picture the bow In its delicate outlines still lingering there, So when thou wert gone, seemed so sudden the blow That hope haunted yet the dark grief of despair. IV. So life-like thou secmedst that at the first sight Affection still fondly forbade us to weep, But a change o'er thy face told the Soul's blessed flight, And thy cold marble brow marked eternity's sleep. 22 In Fratris Memoriam. v. Tho' the all-seeing God for a season had veiled Those fair Orbs of thine from the beauties around, Tho' thou wert with the keenest of suff'rings assailed, From thy cheery young lips broke no murmuring sound. vr. Endowed with the finest of gifts from above, What mightst thou have wrought in the throng of mankind, For when intellect's born the companion of love, Like the sun where it shines, it leaves blessings behind. VII. Thou hadst in thy blindness a realm of thine own, Where the sweetest of music, the song of thy birds. Gave all that was lovely in colour and tone To thy quick-flashing thoughts wreathed in innocent words. VIII. Yes, they who die young are the fav'rites of Heaven, And pure angel-boy, thou art numbered with those, For to mortal no lovelier spirit was given Than a spirit like thine, that was bright to its close. ( 23 ) n hearing (HDadami JP>ate# sw# " ©am mi a Ixen," April 29, 1S79. * I. ' i HARO mio ben " — those dulcet words ^ I once heard so divinely sung That like a harp's vibrating chords Long in my ear their echo rung. ii. That grand voice now so gently thrilled, It seemed to die in heaven above ; Now, like an organ deep it filled The soul with its melodious love. in. Tho' oft at times I strive to bring Back to my ear that angel strain, As from a tomb, but coldly ring Those sweet dead words, " Caro mio ben." IV. It' ne'er upon this mortal ear That voice its full, rich notes may pour, Perchance in some more blessed sphere, I yet may hear those sounds once more. ( 24 ) Who died June, 1878. I. TTOW strangely sad ! Thalia wept — 'Twas o'er her fav'rite's honoured tomb ; For death within her realm had crept, And plunged her merry court in gloom. ir. Alas ! we miss that well-known form, So full of sprightliness and grace, Those lineaments o'er which the storm Of years and trouble wrought no trace. in. That airy spirit Time ne'er marred, Like to the last a diamond stone, For all within was firm and hard, While all without so brightly shone. IV. Or like the firefly's sparkling glow Beneath the gruesome veil of night, So oft beneath a cloud of woe, That radiant soul would beam more bright. In Memoriam — diaries Mathews. 25 v. As oft on some long summer eve The sun sinks softly in the west, And we can scarce as yet believe Till all is cold that he's at rest. VI. E'en so his life's bright summer day So gently reached its final close That sunlike, as it passed away, 'Twas radiant in its dying throes. VII. When Nature smiled, the curtain fell ; True tears of grief let those outpour Who, conquered by his master spell, Could shed but tears of mirth before. VIII. Mourn not, Thalia, for a soul So blithesome in this world of care, When freed at length from Earth's control ; , It must indeed be happy there. ( 26 ) ^Espaxia — 1$7$. — * — i. TTIERE is a land fair with its valleys and moun- tains, Bnt dark is the tempest that rages within ; With the red blush of shame are encrimsoned her fountains, Her vales hut resound to War's clamorous din. II. The lover's guitar, with its notes gently tingling To the accents melodious that flow from his lips ; As graceful as snowflakes in air intermingling, Or the steps of his maid as all gaily she trips. in. These — these all are hushed, for the trumpet loud braying Proclaims that Bellona's wild triumph is nigh ; And shrilly the terrified coursers are neighing, While the dun cloud of Battle rolls darkling on high. IV. Tho' pi-osperity's sun is now hiding his glory Behind the dark cloud that o'ershadows thy fame ; Awake, lovely Spain, from thy carnival gory, And prove thyself worthy a Calderon's name. ( 27 ) T.he ^ios£ ami the Elightingale. — * — i. 4 WAY in the far East a wild rose was blooming In all the fair charms of virginity's pride, ~V\ hen as oft as descended the dim shades of gloaming, The wind of the South o'er her soft petals sighed. n. One eve, near the rose a young nightingale lighted, And poured forth the thrill of his passionate song ; In vain sighed the zephyr, his amours were slighted, And vengeance alone could atone for the wrong. in. Next eve came the wind, in the fury of madness. And tore the fair rose from her stem to the ground : •• Those sweet notes of joy shall be changed into sad- ness," In his glee roared the wind o'er the petal- around. IV. Again to his love, like a true serenader, The nightingale came in the blush of I he eve; And o'er the fell work of the ruthless invader Sang as mournful a strain us his anguish could weave. ( 28 ) nice, — * — i. TN mood desponding sat the chief, Desponding o'er his baffled schemes ; No thought could bring his breast relief, No hope of favouring Fortune gleams. II. For she with fickle smile had shone Propitious to his foeman's side ; And now he mourned his fate alone, The insult to his martial pride, in. Full oft in battle's stormiest hour That arm had dealt destruction round ; Beneath his broadsword's matchless power A direful fate the foe had found. IV. While thus he mused o'er brighter days, Ere Fate had wrought his glory's fall, His wand'ring eye had chanced to raise Upon the chamber's time-stained wall. v. There, 'midst his airy mazes, toiled A spider at his tedious trade, Tho' ill success his efforts foiled, Untired, unbaffled, undismayed. Bruce. 29 VI. Six times the insect-workman failed, Six times the thread had proved nntrne ; Free from restraint in air it sailed Conspicuous to the monarch's view. VII. Once more the spider tried and brought The soaring fabric safely down ; Now with success Iris toil is fraught, And Industry obtains her crown. VIII. Bruce saw, and pondering at the sight, The insect's case with his compared ; Tho' six times vanquished in the fight, "Why should the future be despaired ? IX. With hope inspired, once more the chief Rushed with new ardour to the fray; And Saxon widows mourned in grief At Bannockburn's illfated day. x. If e'er thy cherished schemes should fail, And thinking but despondence bring ; Of Nature's gentle voice avail, Remember Bruce, the Scottish King. ( 30 ) — * — i. OING, sing, ray caged minstrel, sing ^ Of thy bright isles, those happy bowers Where fresh as morning thon conldst wing Thy flight amidst a world of flowers. ii. Thy robe is woven from the beams That smile upon thy native wave ; The melody that from thee streams, No minstrel e'er a sweeter gave. in. And when the soul of slumber smiles, Years pass in moments o'er again ; Then wing thee to thy fairy isles, Nor let thy flight, dear bird, be vain. IV. Then sing, my caged minstrel, sing Of thy bright isles, those happy bowers Where fresh as morning thou couldst wing Thy flight amidst a world of flowers. ( 31 ) Tihe Echo, (For Music.) * I. T CALLED you, mother, in the glen; You answered not : some wilful maid. Unwont to hear the voice of men, Mocked me from out the neighb'ring glade. ii. " Mother! " in wildest tones I cried, And scarce the word had fled my tongue When •• Mother ! " she again replied, And clear in air the accents runs. in. I ran into the wood, and thought To see the form whose voice I heard. For many a weary hour I sought ; I could not find my mocking bird. IV. "Fair boy, fair boy, ah, know you not The viewless sprite that haunts the gladr ? 'Twas all in vain you searched the spot, For Echo is that taunting maid." ( 32 ) — * — i. QLEEP on ; sleep on ; no step of mine Shall e'er profane thy slumbers bright ; I'll watch that heaving breast of thine ; I dare not ope those gates of light. ii. Sleep on ; sleep on ; the wind may kiss Thy marble brow, thy sunny hair ; And jealous I must view his bliss, His stolen joys I may not share. in. Sleep on ; sleep on ; the laughing brook May lull to sleep thy drowsy ear, And silent I must stand and look, No accents from my lips you hear. IV. Sleep on ; sleep on ; I'll venture now To taste the fragrance of thy breath. But, oh ! how icy chill thy brow — Alas ! it is the sleep of Death. ( 33 ) IW-ha 'Mnity Musket, — * — i. r HAVE a fairy casket Where hidden secrets sleep ; Ah, will you, dare you ask it, What treasures it can keep ? II. If you should peep within it You'll think it strange, I ween ; But if you fairly win it, Reign o'er it as its queen. in. Then take the fairy casket, Whose gems all brightly shine. Yes, love, you need but ask it, Its treasures all are thine. IV. But if by chance you break if. By your inquiring art, You never can remake it — That casket is the heart. i> Q 4 O — o — i. ~|\/TTDST jewels that blazed overpoweringly bright, A moonstone scarce visible lay ; Regarded when in its true aspect of light, It would flash with peculiar ray. ii. Ah, I fear me that thus that collection of thine, Bedecked with the trophies of art, Kesplendently bright, will as dazzlingly shine As this will shrink humbly apart. in. There's one solace, at least, like the moonstone at times, This may shine with a light all its own ; Hidden sparkles exist 'neath these roughest of rhymes, And flash forth their fire like the stone. IV. Whoe'er may peruse this, ah ! he will require Keenest art to discover the flame ; I'll no longer imprison this secret of fire, No merit but now do these verses acquire, Since enshrined in the lines is thy name. ( 35 ) OCndin^. i. THE MERMAIDS' SONG. '• HING-, sister mermaids, let your numbers sweep ^ In joyful strains resounding thro' the deep ; And ye, Tritons, on your conchs proclaim In loud and length'ning blasts young Undine's name To-day, to-day, her fifteenth summer smiles Upon this daughter of our coral isles ; Her years of mermaid infancy are o'er, Swift thro' the sparkling waters let her soar; Yes, let her soar, and catch the rosy day, And dirt and frolic in the sungilt spray ; To her fond sire and our time-honoured Kinjr The fairest flowers of ocean let her bring. Then hasten, Undine, to our merry throng, And while the hours in festive dance and song ; And when the sun adown the water glows, That eve is nigh each sportive maiden knows ; Into our sea-shells for the night we creep, Rocked into slumber by the rolling deep: Oh ! what existence vies with mermaids' life, AVhere all with calm serenity is rife ? i> 2 36 Undine. The billows e'en, that roar at will above, Melt into crystal in our realm of love, While wretched mortals on yon neighb'ring shore Crumble to dust when their short span is o'er ; For thrice a hundred years below we reign, "Without one hour of human pang or pain ; Then fade our gentle spirits into foam, And float for ever on a heaving home." II. Such were the strains that rose along the waves, The mermaids' haunt, but human beings' graves ; Such were the strains their chorus-leader sang, That echoing far thro' rosy gardens rang ; Of vast extent, far gleaming thro' the flood, The palace of the ocean monarch stood ; Could but your eyes have seen the glorious fane They ne'er could wish to gaze on earth again — Earth, whose chief structures are but things of gloom, A costly mausoleum, or a tomb, Which, perfect as a mortal may erect, Not long survive the ashes they protect. What tho' Egypta on her desert rears Deformities to mock a thousand years, What tho' the monster sphinx be standing now, With dust of ages on her sullen brow, Undine. 37 What tho' around these be a halo shed, It is the awful halo round the dead ; But oh ! amidst a solitude serene, Far different was the palace submarine ; This had for ages stood as now it stands, All freshly blushing from its makers' hands ; Of ruddy coral were those fairy halls, With pale green weed festooning o'er the walls ; Its floor the ever-moving ocean stream, ( Hiding like figures in a tranquil dream ; The columns shaped like waterspouts were pearl, Twining from floor to dome in snakedike curl. in. Forth from the porch proceed a glittering train ; 'Tis Undine, with the daughters of the main ; She comes — she comes — how gracefully she swims, Farting the crystal with her radiant limbs ! She scarcely seems to touch the silent wave Which furtively before her presence gave. Like some fair swan upon an inland lake Leaves as she floats along a glittering wake, So Undine, as all noiselessly she glides, Leaves her bright footprints on those silent tides. The richest of all ocean's gems adorn Those locks, that brow as smiling as the morn ; 38 Undine. Her eyes were of the tend'rest, softest hue, A tint of sadness breaking thro' their bine. Blue as the vaulted concave of the night, Yet lovelier far was their expressive light. A simple string of orient pearls she wore Around a neck that Venus might adore. An amulet embraced each arm of snow, The fairest working of the nymphs below. Oh ! had I but Apelles' magic art To paint the treasured image of my heart ! Oh, Undine, could he but have gazed on thee, We ne'er had seen his " Venus from the Sea." "^tote ( 39 ) nxik$iti$&. ^FITE cry of war rose on the gale, Awake, ye Swiss, defend the right ! But what can their poor strength prevail Against the flower of Austria's might ? II. On Sempach's ever hallowed sod, "Whom tame submission could not quell. Fighting for freedom and his God, The first Helvetian patriot fell. ill. Tn vain they strove to pierce or break That serried hedge of threat'ning spears, "Where'er they turn a path to make One mass of bristling points appears. IV. But "Winkelried with anger flushed To see th' advance of Austria's pride, Upon th' extended spears he rushed, Received them in his heart, and died. ( 40 ) Min&s on the ^E)eath of CrTaptain Of H.M.S. " Firebrand," Killed at the Sulina Mouth op the Danube, July 7th, 1854. O I. rpHEY laid him near the sparkling wave That gently woos the Dacian shore ; They laid him in a hero's grave, His hopeful course of glory o'er. ir. By friends and foes alike admired, All liallow'd shall liis mem'ry he ; In duty thus to have aspired, Bright spirit ! let aU strive like thee. in. How ardent glowed his youthful heart, Urged on in glory's bright career ; But now, sad, gloomy thoughts will sts«,rt, As gently falls the trick'ling tear. IV. But now cold lies our hero dead, Whom weepir.g crowds consigned to rest ; The bright skies shining o'er his head, His nation's flag upon his breast. Lines on the Death of Captain Hyde Parker. 41 v. For Dacia's injured rights lie fought, For Dacia's hlack-eyed maids he fell, Who, weeping, to his grave resort, And in their songs his praises tell. VI. There, off'rings from some grateful heart The fairest Eastern roses bloom ; And as their glist'ning dew drops start, Shed liquid fragrance o'er his tomb — • VII. His tomb that looks upon the sea, Which glad his bounding vessel bore ; Hark ! how the waves moan mournfully, And gently kiss the sloping shore. VIII. Tho' far, far from his native land, The hero's honoured dust may lie ; He hath the fame his deeds demand, And hero's fame can never die. IX. Yes, there in death his corse must lie, Till Time hath rolled its years away, Until th' archangel's thrilling cry Shall wake him to a happier day. ( 42 ) stanzas. -* — (XII, when at eve thou seest a flower ^ Bow clown its head in seeming death, Then think thou of that awful hour When thou shalt yield the parting breath. II. And when thou seest at early dawn The flow'ret ope her petals fair, Think of the Resurrection morn, And bend thy knee in solemn prayer. ( 43 ) J^tanzas. i. A S leaden clouds o'erfilled with rain Lower threateningly on high, And pour upon the thirsty plain The treasures of the shy: II. So oftentimes dark storm-clouds swell Within my troubled breast, And tears alone can break the spell, And bid my sorrows rest. ( 44 ) tanzas. — * — i. H, think not when smiles are bright /\ That sorrow hath no dwelling there, For eyes that laugh to outward sight May scarce restrain the secret tear. II. So smiles that mask the sorrowing heart Are but' as sunbeams o'er the wave, Where, tho' their beaming glances dart, They shine upon the sailor's grave. ( 45 ) ope * — TTOW gloomy would the future seem When Sorrow's storm-cloud lowers. If Hope shone not with cheering beam In this dark world of ours. II. She is a beacon to our eyes To guide us on our way, And shines amidst the troubled skies With calm, benignant ray. in. Then put away the present gloom, Nor let your spirit droop ; Upon your path where'er you roam There shines the star of Hope. ( 4(3 ) — o — i. T WILL not leave tliee, mother dear, -*- But where thou goest I will go ; With thee will I remain for e'er, Thro' joy, thro' sorrow, weal or woe. IT. And where thou dwellest I will dwell, My people .shall he also thine ; The Gcd to whom thy praises swell, That God, dear mother, shall he mine. in. And where thou diest I will die, With thine my corse in death shall rest, With thine my hones shall buried lie, At peace beneath the earth's cold breast. ( 47 ) araphrasD of ^auixTs J^iam^nt owr jgniul and Jonathan. nPPIE beauty of Israel's fallen, Her flowers are crushed in their bloom, The strength of the mighty is broken, Rejoicing is changed into gloom. ir. Oh, let not the godless e'er triumph O'er the Lord's own anointed lain low. Oh, ne'er let the daughters of Gaza Exult in an Israelite's woe. in. Ye mountains that frown o'er Gilboa ! No more shall the silvery rain Ee sprinkled with moist'ning profusion On the ground where a monarch was slain. IV. Like lions those warriors were standing, Defying the foe to the end ; Like lions those warriors perished, No knee to the Gath would tiny bend. ( 48 ) Jpths "^Toicc of @oo\ — * — i. fTIIINE is the voice, Lord, we hear, -*- When thunders roll on high, That fall upon the awe-struck ear In dread sublimity. ii. Thine is the voice, O Lord, we hear Beside the wild sea shore, When grandly vibrates o'er the ear Some bursting billow's roar. III. Thine is the voice, O Lord, we hear When evening breezes sigh, That whisper gently o'er the ear, Their soothing melody. IV. Thou hast in thunder, wave, and wind, A mighty voice, Lord, That leaves a ling'ring spell behind, And breathes to us Thy Word. ( 49 ) 5G>r*3am-Iiaiu1. H^IIERE is a time when the o'erwearied brow Sinks 'neath the soothing influence of a Power, That lelhe of the mind and body — Sleep ; Then doth the Queen of Thought, the heaven-born Soul, By Reason's helm unfettered, wing her flight Into a land of mist and beauty, where Unnatural things seem natural, and scenes Grotesque in all their phantasy seem real ; Our senses too, tho' lulled in Sleep's embrace, Inactively perform their active parts ; "We see, we hear, we feel — but in a dream ; At times our day-thoughts disembodied take Fantastic forms, that glide from shape to shape In combinations wond'rous, and the eye Seems as it were to feast herself upon The beauties of some vast kaleidoscope. In dream- the Lord Omnipotent of Heaven J;id ersj disclose His '/rand designs to man, The mighty workings of His sovereign pow'r, And tho' no more He holds with us on earth oO Dream-Land. Direct communication, yet e'en now At times the gates of Future are unlocked The good to cheer, to terrify the bad. In vain the haunted homicide may seek His couch for rest ; tho' Sleep may ease his limbs, No rest is meted to the guilty mind ; The oracle of God, his conscience, wracks That wretched breast, and even in his dreams Nought but the victim of his wrath appears, Demanding vengeance, imprecating threats. The ever-sieging thought gnaws at his heart Like to the vulture in the olden tale, His day's bravadoes vanish when he cowers Before the approach of night, dark as the crime That stamped the brand of Cain upon his brow. But to the healthy mind how sweet are dreams ! Banished is ev'ry care, and all is calm — Most eloquently calm, save when at times The reminiscence of a happy hour Flits with seraphic movement o'er the scene, That brightens as it changes, and in vain The painter's skill in eye-deceiving art And poet's pen endeavours to describe The ambrosial ecstasy of such a time. Oh, land of dreams, that equalisest all Within thy realms ! The monarch, tho' his head Dream- Land. 51 May rest ou silken cushions, is the same As the poor peasant on his bed of straw ; The mighty warrior and the helpless babe Are both as powerless in that mystic state, That Rubicon that parts our Life from Death. And thou, O Science, on thine onward march, Tho' hitherto triumphant, here must fail In cold investigations, which have robbed So much from Nature's lustre, and have spoiled By thy deformed offspring her fair face. Vaiuly thou striv'st to tear aside the veil That guards the mysteries of this lovely fane, Thou ne'er shalt pierce the halo that surrounds The charms of this Protean Paradise. & .- ( 52 ) J2>itt' aim's ^sland> PRIZE POEM, BEDFORD GRAMMAR SCHOOL, June, 1873. "VTORN rolls away tlie sombre veil of night, And wakes the waters with her burst of light ; The wild Pacific, freshening into life, Shakes his white locks, and roars in playful strife. All is rejoicing save Pitarnia's Isle That in the midst seems far too sad to smile ; A mystic stillness haunts the rugged shores, Save when some deep-voiced billow bursting roars — Save when some sea-bird shrieks with fitful scream, Dipping her wing in ocean's sunlit gleam : A sullen frown seems stamped upon the rocks That scowl unmoved by ocean's threat'ning shock.-. On such a morn, tho' years have rolled between, That dreary shore beheld a varied scene ; In busy labour move an eager band Around yon bark high-grounded on the strand. "Who may they be ? Why hither have they come Far from mankind to seek a lonely home ? PitcairrCs Inland. 53 Rebels they ai - e, a rebel for their chief, Whose gnawing conscience yields him no relief. By day, by night are pictured on his brain Those victims cast adrift upon the main : Now keen Remorse with all her kindred pangs Preys on his heart with unrelenting fangs, And bids him seek this solitary spot To strive to live forgetting and forgot : Here in repentance from his breast to cast The agonising burden of the past. He bids them fire the bark, 'tis done — on high The sable smoke rolls curling to the sky, A yellow glare the flames shoot o'er the bay Leaping like demons round their fated prey. Wild was the sight, above the fiery glow, In varied groups a rugged crowd below, With giant forms, strong limbs, and depth of chest The Otaheitans towered above the rest, Women were there whose dark voluptuous eye Glanced fearless at the sparks that sported by, No British maidens these, tho' soft their smile, The dark-haired daughters of a distant isle, These had the rebels brought their homes to cheer, For lone is life when woman is not near; The flames are fed, what bounds their ravage mark? The blackened ribs of what was once — a bark ; 54 PitcairiLS Island. The bund take one last look, then leave the shore, And bend their steps the isle to traverse o'er, Tho' small it seemed, yet Heaven had richly blest The fertile treasury of its fruitful breast. The cocoa-palm here greets their grateful eyes "Whose luscious harvest food and drink supplies, The fijj-tree here her branches from above Bends to the earth with strange fantastic love, A leafy dome affording lofty shade With beauty crowns the rustic colonnade. At length a hill they gained ; beneath them lay A wooded slope ; beneath again the bay. Downwards they speed with hearts free as the foam That crests the billows round their island home. 'Tis reached, they choose a site, soon far and near, Nought but the ring of axes greets the ear ; Their sturdy blows the neighbouring echoes wake,. And bid the monarchs of the forest quake : Full many a tree with leafy glory crowned Bows his majestic head and strews the ground. They hew them planks and toil the time away, Their village grows with each succeeding day ;. At length it stands in its completed form, Of beauty void, yet proof against the storm. Tho' rude it was, e'en with a kindling pride, They saw the homes so long to them denied ; PitcairrHs Island. 55 Fourfold it stood in even order placed, The square enclosed a grassy centre graced ; The plumed companions of the farm there strode, Oft there at dawn his herald loudly crowed. Such was the isle where Providence had cast Their happy lot, but ah ! too bright to last. AH seemed at peace, th' horizon shining clear, And none could dream an awful storm so near : It burst at length, fell Murder's reddening hand Wrought direful havoc in that little band ; One man was left upon whose altered mind The fearful scenes had left their stamp behind, Yet still remained that fixed and firm control, Tho' fled the baser passions of his soul. The new-born race regarded him with awe, His will was statute, and his word was law ; In times of discoid or the hour of grief To him they came for counsel or relief ; Deeply they loved him, for he earned their love, Leading their hearts to purer hopes above ; Each day at noon the solemn call was given For a short time to yield their thoughts to heaven, To wend to yonder rugged house of prayer, And hear the words of comfort uttered there. They sent the young by his appointed rule To the small church that served them as a school ; •56 PitcairrCs Island. When tasks were o'er how swift they'd break away And seek their playfield, e'en the restless bay, Soon are they plunging midst the heaving tides Whose giant force their merry shout derides, Soon are they tossing with the feath'ry foam, Sporting like dolphins in their native home; Such was their hour of glee, the f resh'niner wave A healthful vigour to the bodies gave, Sturdy they grow and stalwart to the sight, Both strength and grace their manly forms unite. Beauteous the maidens with that deep-hued cheek And glorious eye that kindling souls bespeak ; Oft would the chief as even-tide drew nigh Gaze at the village with a pensive eye, Oft at the thought that aged heart would smile That he was monarch of the happy isle. Thus they lived on in calm and joyous life All unembittered by rebellious strife, Apart from all the follies of the time, Unstained by lust, and ignorant of crime, Bound to each other by a magic tie A glowing model of fraternity. O Providence, how wondrous are Thy schemes, So far beyond the wisest of our dreams, We can but bow our heads, and stand in awe, As all unversed in Thine ordaining laAv ; Pitcairns Island. 57 From such a stock 'twas stranare ut Solitude and Silence on her wings ; A breathing melancholy around is cast, It is the mournful Spirit of the Past. ( 59 ) DRAMATIS PERS0N7E, As originally acted at Covent Garden Theatre in 177^ Sir Anthony Absolute Captain Absolute. Faulldand Acres ... Sir Lucius CPTrigger... Far/ David... Thomas Mrs. Malaprop Lydia Languish Jidia ... Lucy ... Mr. Shuter. Mr. Woodward. Mr. Lewis. Mr. Quick. Mr. Lee. Mr. Lee-Lewes. Mr. Dunstal. Mr. Fearon. Mrs. Green. Miss Barsanti. Mrs. Bulkley. Mrs. Lessinghani. ^rolagujc to "Wh* Rivals/* As acted at Bedford in 1875. / \NE moment pause we ere the curtain rise, To feast the longing of impatient eyes ; One moment, yes, for as I gaze along, I read upon your faces, " Don't be long! " Oh, age of rivalry, when ev'ry trade Strives hard to thrust its neighbour in the shade ! They aim to see, the architects of shoes, How little genuine leather they can use ; '60 Probgue to " The Rivals:' And Esculapius' sons, with practised skill, All strive to find some surer mode to kill ; But now in Cupid's realm as in that age ' : The Rivals " ever take tlie foremost stage. !Not here sliall Woodward, with his fearless eye, The matchless Shuter as his sire defy. Fain would I grant it, hut ye will not see Sir Lucius hoasting in the form of Lee. " Oh, for one hour " of fair Barsanti's art, To play the L/jdia Languish of the heart ! Alas, you sigh in vain for Mrs. Green — That matchless Malaprop has fled the scene ! A century has passed, and still the play Attracts as fair an audience as they — As they, who studied well each graceful turn ; But we've no " School for Scandal " where to learn ; We are hut emhryo actors — from that fact Perchance you'll wonder how we mean to act. We'll act straightforward, and we'll only ask The due reward of such a pleasing task : And now farewell ; when gratified your gaze, If swift to censure, he not slow to praise. January 11, 1875. ( 61 ) Jpthtf J5\ai'jctj 33 all. — * — i. rPHERE lived within the precincts of a town Which boasted of its theatre, and its stronghold. A certain Mr. and a Mrs. Brown ; His trade, sartore, if yon must be told, He won his spurs, no, medals of renown, By pricking o'er a broadcloth field for gold, So that he was considered for gallantry, Perfection's pink, in needle-knight-errantry. ii. He won his medals, how d'ye think ? By war ? Nay, by a peace, and by a goodly piece Of broadcloth, was his fame reported far — ■ "Wafted to Paris on a favouring breeze; L'Exposition des Sciences et des Arts Gave him these medals: dclices de delicts! The royal arms blazed o'er his shop-door sin< lie made a pair of trousers for the Prince. in. They say that nine sartores make a man, And here it was conspicuously true, For he was just four cubits and a span, Or fifteen hands ; each measurement will do, !2 The Fancy Ball. For like my licro, I suit all I can, A Protestant, a Catholic, a Jew ; The Hebrew's stiff, without the least pretence, But both are racy in a sort of sense. IT. His spouse was large, a kind of largeness which Makes a small man most despicably small ; Had he not been most fortunately rich, His friends would scarce have noticed him at all; And thus he'd dream, whilst plying stitch on stitch, That in their estimation he was tall : His spouse was large, and weighed in flesh and bone Nigh half an Orton — i.e., thirteen stone. v. They had one child, a lovely little damsel, That stole the hearts of half the customers, With eye as bright as that of a gazelle, And with that merry, dimpling smile of hers, Which breathed a language that no words can tell, And held enchained admiring worshippers — A melting smile that the whole soul entrances, As when the moon on rippling water dances. The Fancy Ball. 63 VI. She was as dark as any little Grecian, Or a young Spaniard, so then take your choice ; She had received a very fair tuition, Could sing the " Lurley " with a faultless voice — Brought out the tones with clear and neat precision, "Without that affectation that annoys. Of course iu th' original, none could spoil Old Heine's host ragout with English oil. VII. Moreo'er she played with skill on the piano- Forte, or rather after tea, a time Devoted to improve her voice soprano With songs that breathed of almost ev'ry clime ; She looked a perfect Lurley on her scanno (I'm obliged to use the Italian for rhyme), A Lurley on her rock the music stool, Your heart the boat wrecked in a whirling pool. VIII. Ah, if you'd seen those fairy fingers straying Over those keys in evolutions strange, You would forgive slight errors in her playing; While deftly she from right to left doth range 64 The Fancy Ball. (I think I may assert what I am saying), Her thousand charms would so much disarrange Your thoughts, and your attention so engage, That you would fail in time to turn her page. IX. Her name was Mabel, which imprudent suitors Changed into Ma Belle; these she could not hear. To whom she had by far preferred her tutors, For they at least had intellectual air ; She knew the golden butt of these sharpshooters, And so she foiled their efforts everywhere — ■ Amused herself awhile with their prostrations, Then sent them cursing to their occupations. The Christmas bills had all been issued out, A certainly most bilious time for those Who cannot pay for trouser, vest, or coat, And wish that there were no such things as clothes., And that we might, like Indians, roam about Clothed neglige in skins, free from the woes Of dress — a good idea for speculation, But hardly suited for the English nation. The Fancy Ball. 05 XI. The bills were paid, both t<* and by our hero ; He sheathed his shears, and panted for some fun — Not panted, for the glass had nigh reached zero, And in the dog-days such strange things are done, He longed and knew not how to have it, vero He capped decision with this lovely pun : " I have a fancy, in our own Town Hall I'll treat this fancy to a fancy ball." XII. He fairly floored his spouse by this assertion, For such occurrences were seldom known, She ne'er cut capers save on the nasturtium Bed, and now wondered where his sense had flown; But he, by means of buttery coercion, Smoothed into reason madam's angry tone ; She then agreed, and hurried off to Mabel, Who showed her joy by waltzing round the table. XIII. At length the day arrived ; in preparation They spent the morning in the city hall ; Banners were hung by way of decoration, And holly mottoes gleamed upon the wall ; E 66 The. Fane// Ball. And as a proof 'gainst colds and inflammation, They curtained up the side approaches all, And laid some soft warm red cloth on the floor, Right from the porch up to the hall-room door. XIV. At half-past nine o'clock a carriage waited Before Sartore's mansion, till at last With muffled-up humanity 'twas freighted, And soon towards the hall 'twas whirling fast, But more than once against the kerb they grated As the fly rattled the street corners past; 'Twas hardly snowing, but most hardly freez- ing ; Ah ! woe to those whose tendency is wheezing! xv. They reached the hall, alighted, passed within, Uncloaked themselves before a blazing fire ; Here madam loudly clamoured for a pin, Which she obtained from Mabel's honoured sire, Who cursed in heart her tongue's unruly din, And hinted she might keep such needfuls by her. About their costumes I will tell you, and sir, If you will wait, in this succeeding stanza. The Fancy Ball. 67 XVI. Sartore was in olden style attired, A style which women ever have adored, And e'en our hero was with pride inspired When decked with wig, lace ruffles, and a sword ; 3Ioreo'er he had what once was much admired, And what but very few could well afford — I mean a diamond buckle on each shoe, Which round about his feet a lustre threw. XVII. Now, madam, being a doubly deep-read woman, Both in external features and in books, Assumed in dress a character which no man Could recognise in judging by her looks ; 8he would have made a fortune for a showman, Or a poor farmer scaring off his rooks. She had assumed — ah, you will laugh, I ween — The dress of Egypt's flippant, flaunting Queen. .win. She was bedecked with flimsy ornaments, Gigantic earrings which she thought were pearl, Which would have raised a gourmand's loud laments Had she presumed these in bis cup to burl. p2 68 The Fancy Ball. Her teeth would raise a sceptic's keen comments, So also would her hair's voluptuous curl. She was, in vain she tried her art to wheedle,, 'Bout as much like Cleopatra as her Needle. XIX. Now, Mabel was attired quite a, la Grecque, In the most spotless satin vest, whose hue Might vie with swan's-down, fitted to bedeck That lovely form, o'er which a jacket blue She wore, with gold lace trimmed about the neck,. And pearls in circles tasteful to the view ; Her jupe was most artistically made, Bordered with pearls on damask and brocade. xx. The Grecian cap, in gold and scarlet gleaming, Poised jauntily upon her head she wore, From which, all wild, her own dark locks 'scaped streaming, As if to make her lovely yet the more — Locks that surpassed John Chubb's inventive dreaming — Hers tethered hearts, while his an iron door. But hark ! the band is tuning for the ball, That most excruciating part of all. The Fancy Ball 69 XXI. Just then pealed out, upon the frosty air, The hour of ten, vibrating loud and clear. Then to the hall proceed the worthy pair, And lovely Mabel follows in the rear. To whom shall I our heroine compare ? I know, but all will not agree, I fear. She looked, par excellence, Gulnare all over. That dashing girl who freed the prisoned rover. XXII. The ball-room looked ties charmanie on the whole, For most things look far prettier by night — Thus Mabel thought, for she could scare control A hurried exclamation of delight ; It was not strange the dear little soul Saw matters in a rather different light ; All was in keeping, flags, lamps, holly mottoes, And natty little programmes sent from G otto's. XXIII. The orchestra consisted of a flute, Two violins, and one violoncello, That groaned its notes like some expiring brute Who had not quite enough strength left to bellow. 70 The Fancy Ball. There was a drum which ought to have been mute, There was a harp with accents soft and mellow ; All these were raised upon a stage, whose border Was formed of shrubs and plants, in tasteful order. XXIV. The band, being now in readiness all seated, Strike up at once. Hark how the violini, Their tuning agonies being quite completed, Bring out that glorious offspring of Bellini ! " The Druid's March " our noble trio greeted. Oh, could they've heard it played by Paganini, That one-stringed Orpheus, who by magic art Could melt to tears the most reluctant heart ! XXV. But suddenly young Mabel colours high, Her ear has caught a long-expected sound, Excitement's sparkle kindles in her eye, That glances upon every object round ; Each moment brings the vehicle more nigh, How its wheels rattle on the iron ground ! It stops, and lands the first arrivals safe, But at the cold, perhaps, inclined to chafe. The Fancy I kill. 71 XXVI. When at the door they found a servant waiting With Aaron-like appendage to his chin, AVho took their cards, which were employed for stating The name in which they should be ushered in, And led them to the. hall, half hesitating, His features struggling to keep down a grin. " The King, the Queen, the Knave of Hearts! " he cried, Then hurried off to have his laugh outside. XXVII. In sixty minutes all the guests had come, Keeping the little usher well employed, Not that it made him gloomy-grand, or glum, For their fantastic costumes he enjoyed ; But in his heart he curs'd the names of some, Which seemed to be of sound and meaning void, As Henri Quatre, or Margaret of Anjou, But by a friendly " II." lie struggled thro'. XXVIII. The music struck up for the first quadrille, Which was in fact a quadrille, a la carte, And called forth madam's best arranging skill To place the couples with effective art ; 72 The Fancy Ball. At length there are no ugly gaps to fill, And eager as unleashed hounds they start. Now Mabel had a dangerous partner by her, The Knave of Hearts, which made hers burn like fire. XXIX. It really was a very pretty sight To see so many lines in rapid motion, All weirdly blending 'neath that dazzling light So famed in Roman Catholic devotion. A garden, waving with its blossoms bright, "Would give you but the very faintest notion ; It looked (this is not too far drawn, I hope) A charming animate kaleidoscope. XXX. The next dance was a waltz — voluptuous air — Gliding like billiard-balls upon a table (That came in most appropriately there) — ■ Dan Godfrey's chef-d'oeuvre, the adored "Mabel." That laureate to Terpsichore the fair, The Muse of twinkling feet, as saith the fable — But I forgot " Mon Reve's " soft, dreamy charm — Dan and Waldteufel must divide the palm. The Fancy Ball. 73 XXXI. Now, Mabel's shoes were shaped like little boats, Which were with Grecian costume quite in keep- ing, In which, all naturally, she lightly floats In graceful circles past the couples sweepiug ; Soft swell the orchestra's luxurious notes, Which some profaned by most ungainly leaping, Occasionally varied by a tumble, Which threw their followers in a hopeless jumble. xxxir. There were some personages in that room Who ne'er had met on earth by any chance, But bursting through the barriers of the tomb, Were quite convivial at a Christmas dance ; There was the Black Prince, with his sable plume, Talking with Louis Quatorze, King of France; There was ;i jester waltzing with a nun, A kind of thing that's very rarely done. XXXIII. Fair Anjou's partner was a young dragoon, Who looked more fit for waltzing than for war, There were four crowned heads, famed in each saloon Of gamblers for three centuries or more; 74 The Fancy Ball And now they gambolled to a merry tune, Club, Heart, Spade, Diamond, that magic four, Concerning whom (you'll grant me this con- cession) I'm going to make a very slight digression. XXXIV. King Club is black, an emblematic sign Of a dark club composed of gambling knaves, King Diamond's riches captivating shine, King Heart rules o'er the hearts of these poor slaves ; And when are fled the charms of game and wine, Then comes King Spade to dig the gamblers' graves. Such is the history of these potent Kings, But here they were not quite such dreadful things. XXXV. There were besides some curious freaks of nature, Such as th' united presence of each season — A puzzling thing for weather nomenclature, And it would seem a little out of reason ; The Fanm Ball 75 These were four sisters of imposing stature, Whom to call ugly would have hcen high treason. There were, besides, both Day and Night together — I wonder if 'twould influence the weather. XXXVI. Fancy a charity girl within those walls, Looking so flippant in her moral dress, Who once, beneath the dome of great St. Paul's, Demurely different seemed, ye must confess ; Her partner was (the prudish this appals) The dashing owner of the brave Black Bess, Tell not the governors of her institution, Else they might deem her presence a pollution. XXXVII. The hours flew fast, with waltz, quadrille, and lancers, Till one o'clock, the supper-time, was nigh, When Sartore, all courteous, led his dancers Into the gorgeous supper-room close by. Of course there were no abnegating answers; Well was repaid each stomach and each eye, Which beat the stomachs hollow, to be able To take in, all at once, that sumptuous table. 7<'> The Fancy Ball XXXVIII. It was indeed most marvellously laid, Quite a chef-d'ceuvre in gastronomic art, A sight that would undoubtedly have made E'en mighty Soyer at its beauty start ; In all the silver and each sparkling blade, There Vanity might gaze with all her heart ; Each goblet seemed (till filled with foaming Bass) Not meant for drinking, but a looking-glass. XXXIX. At one end was a boar's head, highly garnished, And at the other a fowl mayonnaise, By which the cook's fame was in no way tarnished, Its very fowlness brought her greater praise ; The tongues and ham were shining as if varnished, But I suppose they merely had been glazed ; The beverages claret and champagne, And also Bass and punch a la Romaine. XL. There were six waiters elegantly dressed, With the most irreproachable brushed hair, Assiduous in performing each request, And fluttering with their napkins everywhere ; The Fancy Bull. But in these days with truth 'twill be confessed That servants have too splendid clothes to wear; I do not think a seventeenth century ghost Could tell which was the butler, which the host. XLT. But who's our heroine's partner at the table ? She had secured the cunning Knave of Hearts, i Or rather he secured the wanton Mabel, Enchanting her by his alluring arts ; And still, according to the ancient fable, He had a curious aptitude for tarts. But yet he was amusing and polite, And kept his partner blushiug with delight. XLII. It was a joyful scene of festive cheer — Hark how knives, plates, and forks in concert clatter ! Sweet music to an epicure's ear, Mixed with a hundred tongues' loquacious chatter, As if they bud not met for many a year — We'll pardon Darwin for the monkey matter, The Fancy Ball. If these be human beings talking here — Mingled with chattering tongues and clattering forks. At times, pop goes champagne bespattering corks. XLIII. Old Time, when speeding on a path of flowers, Goes faster than is usual, they say ; But here, with fruit and wine in beauty's bowers, Like minutes three half-hours he stole away ; For when young beauty puts forth all her powers "Who can resist her all-enchanting sway ? At last the band strike up — hark ! 'tis^he lancers ! Haste to the hall, ye impatient dancers ! XLIV. Soon move they in those figures so confusing, "Which, being pretty, never will be plain. At least I know some always will be losing Their whereabouts in forming the grand chain; Perhaps to others it may be amusing, "While the poor victim feels somewhat insane, And strict Terpsichoreans scowl and frown, Longing to knock the impious being down. The Fancy Ball. 79 XLV. In Avaltz, quadrille, their nimble steps they guide. And like their feet swift sped the hours along — Some in the deux temps, some the trois temps, glide, Winding their way the mazy ranks among, Nor did the fervour of the dance subside Till cock-crow startled this oblivious throng ; Then by degrees the guests began to leave, Tho' not without a worthy cause to grieve. XL VI. Sartore saw them all safe from the hall, Playing the courteous host up to the last, Hoping they had enjoyed the Fancy Ball, Remarking that the snow was falling fast. " Madam, let me assist you with your shawl To keep your throat protected from the blast." At length his fly arrived at half-past four, He and his party reach their mansion door. xlvii. Now, '• would you be so much surprised to hear" That Mabel never more forgot that eve, Since, ere the expiration of a year, She learnt that love was real to believe. 80 The Fancy Ball. She married her own Knave of Hearts, the clear ; And, strange to say, there were " no cards " to leave ; And old Sartore, watching them at play, " The little cards have turned out trumps," would say. &^S ( 81 ) — * — T'M softer than wool, and I'm lighter than air, Tho' I last but a moment I banish all care ; Like a flakelet of snow, like the dew on the flower, Thus gently I fall with a soul-wooing power. At greetings, at partings, too, often I'm heard, And my voice is as sweet as the voice of a bird, All dulcet and low as the soft summer wind, For sweet is the essence that lingers behind. To churches I'm bidden, where, when I alight, They are fair seats indeed that my labours requite ; On a chair of red coral of loveliest hue, For a moment I rest like a bright drop of dew, Then away I am gone, far away, far away, For many engagements have I in one day. Perchance at some time I may light upon you, And I think with reluctance you'll bid me adieu. a ( S3 ; i^rams. [" AST night Lady F., in the sweetest of dresses, Some people thought lovely, but others quite plain ; Ah, poor Lady F. ! all the charms she possesses Are profusely displayed at the end of her chain. When released from the Bank, Charles devotes all his powers — Poor fellow ! — to music, in which he quite shines. Only natural, dear madam, each day for eight hours Is his finger on notes and his eye ledger-lines. " When your poor dad was buried, little Snap read the will ; Come, tell us your luck, Tom, and banish regrets." "Ah, I'm sole legatee." "Eh, what, grumbling still ? " " So would you, for the 'little all ' left me are debts." Epigrams. 83 [FKOM THE FRENCH.] The Reverend Bartholomew Bashful, they say, Preaches sermons of others, so people despise 'em ; The reverse I maintain, let them think what they may, The sermons are his, for I know where he buys 'em. ON THE WORD KYiliva. There's a word in the Greek which at times means " to marry," At times 'tis translated " to bury the dead " — Which paradox verbal one meaning may carry, " He entombs all his bachelor joys who is wed." G 2 ( 84 ) Written at the Request of a Friend. I. AH, Emma mine, oh, Emma mine, Thou hast betrayed a trusting lover, I ne'er thought in that breast of thine Such traits perfidious to discover. II. Oh, Emma mine, oh, Emma mine, What glorious castles in the air Have faded into ether fine When truth shone forth, my traitor fair ! ill. Oh, Emma mine, oh, Emma mine, My hopes, all mirage-like, are blighted ; Like bubbles on a sparkling wine They've fled, and left me spurned and slighted. Emma Mine. 85 IV. Oh, Emma mine, thy fate is sealed, No longer after thee I pine ! Thy mouth thy flimsy worth revealed, Oh, falsely treach'rous Emma mine ! ( 86 ) i. ^THERE'S a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And tbe nightingale sings round it all the day long. In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. That bower and its music I never forget, For oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, I think, is the nightingale singing there yet? Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer ? II. No, the roses soon withered that hung o'er the wave, But some blossoms were gathered while freshly they shone, And a dew was distilled from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul as 'twas then to my eyes Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer. Mooue. ( 87 ) (IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.) r. T71ST prope Salsouis ripam domus arcta rosarura, ■^ Attis ubi longos recreat arte dies, Parvulus e roseis nidis haurire solebam All ! velut Elysii somnia carmen avis ; Soepe domus auimo cantus que recurrit imago Qua) Pietas imo pectore clausa fovet. Vere novo meditor, modulatur an Attis ut olim ? An prope Salsonem fragrat ut ante rosa ? n. Somnia vana ! rosa) mox deperiere caducae Rore tauien vernans rlos mibi lectus erat, Scepe meos sensus, postquam discesserit rcstas, Occupat sestatis leniter omnis odor. Ilaud secus elicitum Pietate manebit in arvum, Nescio quid grati temporis ante perit ; Sic animo splendet, visu splendebat ut olim In placidi ripii fluminis arcta domus. ( 88 ) _pL ySLeflzctuxti at J@jea. QEE how beneath the moonbeam's smile ^ Yon little billow heaves its breast, And foams and sparkles for a while, And murmuring, then subsides to rest. II. Thus man, the sport of bliss and care, Rises on Time's eventful sea, And having swelled a moment there, Thus melts into Eternity. Moore. ( 89 ) (IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.) I. f\ VIDEN ut tumidum furtim levat undula pectus Spargit ubi tremulas Luna serena faces, Ilia quidem breviter spumans breviterque coruscans Ut tener in cunis murmure lene tacet. II. Sic homo, ludibrium Fati durive bonive, In pelago varii Temporis usque tumet, Illius et postquain sit pars exacta laboris, Oceano cevorum solvitur omnis homo. ( 00 ) WAS in my garden, a-slaying of snails. I saw my young slaves a-slaying of snails. Who ho ! my young slaves, a-slaying of snails ? If you slay snails, slaves, slay young snails, slaves. Anon. * * * TE whose gloves are clean and white May wear them yet another night ; But he who wears them parties twain May never wear the same again. Anon. # # * TF the man who turnips cries Cry not when his father dies, 'Tis a proof that he had rather Have a turnip than his father. Johnson. ( 91 ) (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) 1\ /TANE ego limaces bortum per forte uecabam, ■^ Hei mihi ! limaces servula quocque necat, Cedite, paucorum culpa an genus omne necatis ? Audite, o famulse, parvula verba, meas. Si ratio vobis bmaces ulla necandi est, Perdere limaces sit pia cura novos. * (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) /°(UI manicce mundae et primo candore nitentes, ^ Ille gerit manicas per dua festa suas ; Cui tamen immundas manicas fecere secunda Festa, nequit manicas bas gerere ille dui. * * (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) T) APA foro quidam querula si voce vocarit, Sed patre defuncto tristia nulla vocat, Scilicet lioc facto deducitur, impie fili! Cui pater et rapis ipse secundus erat. ( 92 ) rpHE tender infant, meek and mild, Fell down npon the stone ; The nurse took up the squealing child, But still the child squealed on. JOHNSON*. * ^translation of "JEilin tt-erxU, ria r\ LASSY water, glassy water, ^ Down whose current clear and strong , Chiefs confused, in mutual slaughter, Moor and Christian rolled along. Johnson. ( 93 (IDEM LATIXE ItEDDITUM.) "pARVULUS lieu ! nimium mansuetus moribus infans Per silices duras coucidit omnis liumo ; Infantem nutrix ululantem attollit araore, Parvulus ast ululat flens sine fine tamen. * (IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.) TTNDULA perspicuo rutilantior undula vitro In cursum lucens qurc properansque fluis, Cujus in amplexu volvuntur casde cruenta, Hie eques, admixti, Maurus ct ille Crucis. ( ^ ) "IT7HEN you aim at a mark, Peg, at forty-five paces, For spectators that mark is the safest of places. H. P. Hogarth. — * — rilHE hand of him here torpid lies That drew the essential form of grace, Here closed in death th' attentive eyes, That saw the manners in the face. Johnson. ( 95 ) (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) QUUM petis aligera raetam, mea Cora, sagitta Meta mihi sedes certa salutis erit. (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) TLLIUS hie torpet praclari dextra magistri, Qua? pinxit format quod fuit omne decus, Illius attentos hie mors signavit ocellos, Cui mores vultu cernere cura fuit. ( 96 ) an Mnti, — * — WHOE'ER lias travelled life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found His warmest welcome at an inu. Shenstone. * * # I F at your coming princes disappear, Comets, come every day and stay a year. Johnson. * TN bed we laugh, in bed Ave cry, And born in bed, in bed we die, The near approach a bed may show To human bliss or human woe. Johnson. ( 97 ) (IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.) TLLE per ambages vita3 quicuuque vagatus, Cui variis statio sit data tuta locis, llle trahens equidera suspiria languida dicet, " Ante focos omnes grata taberna mihi est." * * s (IDEM LATIXE REDDITUM.) I fugiant proceres sic te veniente cometa, Quoque die venias, permaneas que diu. * * * (IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.) "QIDERE in lecto, lectoque dolere solemus ■*-* Nascimur in nostro nos n.orimurque toro, Lsetitia baud alitor visa est urgere dolorem, Aptus et c->t lacrymis hetitijeque torus. ii ( 98 ) translations from JZHovace. — * — PARAPHRASE OF ODE X., LIE. IV. I. /ATI, Lard-hearted still most enchanting Adonis, Soon will the down sprout on your fair boyish cheek, And on your smooth chin an unlooked-for appendage Will destroy the effect of a countenance Greek. ii. 1 think I can fancy you stand at your mirror, And gaze at the change, and all mournfully say, " Oh, why are the charms of my boyhood all vanished? Why had I not then the same thoughts as to-day? " ODE XXL, LIB. I. I. Tender virgins, sing Diana; Youths, the long-haired Cynthius sing, And Latona, the beloved Of Olympus' awful King. Translations from Horace. 99 ii. Chant the goddess who the fountains And Algidian forests loves, And the darksome Erymanthus, Or the blooming Cragus groves. in. Praise, ye youths, the vale of Tcmpc, Delos, too, whence Cynthius sprung ; Praise his lyre and beauteous quiver, Graceful o'er his shoulders slung. IV. Thus invoked the god will bauisli Pestilence and tear-fraught war, While beneath the rule of Caesar Medes and Britons quake afar. ODE XXX. ; LIB. I. I. Thus, thus, I fear I shall die From grief, in this my hapless plight. Since to my detriment unite Fortuna, love, and destiny. in. "What will me from my misr'y save ? The grave, the grave. And what can raise love's hopes on high ? Some fresh dark eye. And what will drive its ills away ? Madness, I say. Thus, thus to banish this sadness You need no judgment sound, Since all its remedies are found In death, and change, and madness. ( no ) (From the German.) I. fFlHE day is sinking to its close, The silent ni^-lit is drawing nieh ; Now rest thy toil-worn hands awhile, And yield to sleep that wearied eye. ir. Then, Christian, free thy heaven-horn soul From earthly cares, and take thy rest. Resign all thoughts of mortal toil Upon thy heavenly Father's breast. in. And upwards, on the wings of faith, Thy soul shall waft her course on high, Where far, ay, far above the clouds A heaven shall greet thy raptured eye. ( 111 ) I 1 (From the lierman.) I. Y heart, my heart, Avhy art thou grieving ? Why mourncst thou in silent woe ? Like ocean's wave thy pulse is heaving, No more I feel thy former glow. Gone are those hopes of happier years, That cheered thee in this vale of tears ; Gone is thy zeal and Avelcome rest, Why evils wrung these from thy breast. ii. Drained is the goblet of my youth, With all its pleasures and its pains, This eye, once bright with love and truth, 'Neath sorrow's gloomy influence wanes. Shall I end my heart's sad throbbing, Ease from mind and body robbing ? One moment, then all pangs are o'er. But no; I'm doomed to suffer more. 112 New Love, New Life. in. And on this weird mysterious thread Which vain I madly strive to break, Hang all those cherished hopes long dead, AVhose memories but new sorrows wake. A magic impulse in my heart Bids me to live with soothing art. What change is this that comes o'er me ? O love ! love ! but let me free ! ( 113 ) ^Chx3 Stranger <2Qaidi?n, (Schiller.) "I\/riDST humble peasants in a vale There came with each fresh blooming year, Soon as the lark's first note they hail A blue-eyed maiden, wond'rous fair. ii. She was not in the valley born, Nor whence she came could any tell ; All traces of her flight were gone Soon as she left the lonely dell. in. Long ere she came was she desired, Her presence blest the rustic place, But oft the bashful swains retired Before the beauty of her face. IV. She brought them gifts of fruit and flowers, The produce of a brighter plain, Where wanner glowcd-the circling hours, AY here Heaven bestowed more bounteous rain. 1 1 14 The Stranger Maiden. v. To each with an impartial heart She gave from out her welcome store ; Both youth and tott'ring age depart Rewarded to their cottage door. vr. With equal art she tried to please, But when approached a loving pair, Best of her gifts she gave to these, Of flow'rs the fairest of the fair. ( 115 ) (Schiller.) i. A BOY sat gazing by a stream, -^- And wistful watched a flow'ry wreath That danced upon the sparkling gleam Of the bright wave that rushed beneath ; "Just as this restless river flows, So flee my days on time's swift wing, And as will fade that floating rose, So, too, will fade my youth's bright spring. II. *' Ask not, I pray, why 1 am sad In the bright days of boyhood's prime, When Nature's face is smiling glad In welcome for the fresh spring-time. The hum of sounds that swell around Of Nature wuk'ning from her sleep Rolls on my ear with mournful sound, And urges but my soul to weep. i 2 116 The Boy hy the Stream. in. "The joys spring spreads to my view, Are they of all to me most clear? There's one alone which 1 pursue, Which absent oft is ever near ; I stretch my arms to reach the prize, Which dances weird before my sight, But, ah, it fades before these eyes ; And now I mourn my lost delight. IV. " Descend to me, thou fairy thing, And leave for e'er thy place of i-est ; The fairest flowers that breathe of spring I'll strew in love upon thy breast. Hark ! forest echoes fill the gloom, And purls the stream so sweetly clear ; E'eu in the smallest hut there's room, Room for a gentle, loving pair." ( 117 ) 13, (Schiller.) — * — T. TOW oft we mortals talk and dream Of happier clays to come ! Forgetful of all else we seem For this dear prize to roam ; Yes, let the world change as it may, Still Hope will lend her cheering ray. ir. Her beacon lights our path of life In boyhood's early days, And when descends the eve of strife, Ah, then how sweet her rays, When the tired spirit wings her flight, Then shines Hope's star more purely bright. in. It is no vain, delusive dream, Sprung from fanatic brains ; From heaven itself is sent the beam, To light earth's dreary plains ; 'Tis when the inward voice is heard, The trusting soul believes her word. 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