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LYRICS 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
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LYRICS 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 SFJ. DONALDSON, Ji: 
 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 LINDSAY & B L A K I S T N 
 
 isco. 
 
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 1>' 
 
 f^lo^^ 
 
 Eiiteied according to Act of Congress, in the year ISJO, liy 
 
 S. J DOXALDSON, Jr., 
 
 ill tlie Clerk's Office of tlie District Conrt of the Eastern District of 
 IVnnsvIv'auia. 
 
 HSNRr 3. ASIIMEAD, PHINTFH 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Eternity op Poesy, . . . .9 
 
 Song — With a Bdmper of Burgundy, . . 15 
 
 The Dance of the Stars, . . . .17 
 
 Nature and the Soul, . . . . 19 
 
 Sonnet — Ox the Harp, . . . .23 
 
 An Invocation, ..... 24 
 
 Sonnet — To Lili, . . . . .27 
 
 Lines — An Analogy, .... 28 
 
 Sonnets on the Final Judgment . . .30 
 
 Song — "Where have the Mighty Fled?" . 33 
 
 The Morning Hour, . . . . .35 
 
 Sonnet — On the Return of a Fair Young Lady 
 
 TO her Friends after a long Absence, . 38 
 
 Youth and Age, . . . . .40 
 
 Lines, ...... 45 
 
 To The Wild Rose, . . . . .48 
 
 vSonnet — On the Reasonableness op Death, . 50 
 
 Sonnet — On Lndividuality, . . . .51 
 
VI INUKX. 
 
 PAllK 
 
 Lines, . . . . . . o2 
 
 " Oh I WOULD I WERE A Rtak, Lovk !" . . 54 
 Sonnet — On Friendship, . . . .5(5 
 
 Song of the Fatks, . . . . .58 
 
 Lines, ...... 60 
 
 Lines to Miss J M. W., . . . .02 
 
 Song,^ — "Time is Glidi.vg on," . . . 03 
 
 To LiLi, . . . . . .01 
 
 On Feeling, ..... 06 
 
 Daphne and Strephon, . . . .08 
 
 Theory of Creation, .... 70 
 
 The Falling Star, . . . . .73 
 
 To the Farmers, ..... 74 
 
 To Amoret, . . . . . ' . 70 
 
 Dialogue between the Poet a.mj hk-s Lyre, . 7!) 
 
 Eternity, . . . . . .1)8 
 
 On Feeling, . . . . .100 
 
 The Universal Heart, .... 104 
 
 Hymn to the Catholic Church, . . 100 
 
 Sonnet on Chatterton, . . . .100 
 
 Determination, . . . . . 110 
 
 The Hermit, . . . . . .112 
 
 Song — "Who Loves not to Gaze," . . 115 
 
 Lines to Miss R. L. N., . . . .116 
 
 Sonnet, . . . . . . -117 
 
 Sonnet to Mrs. Fanny Kembi.e, . . .119 
 
INDEX. Vll 
 
 PAQE 
 
 Lines — " JIy Heart expanded like a Floweh," 120 
 
 To Lii.i DURING her Absence, . . . 123 
 
 Lines to Miss S. W., . . . . 127 
 
 The Little Cloud, ..... 120 
 
 Lines to Miss G. C, . . . . 134 
 
 Sonnets to Constance, .... 136 
 
 Lines in the Spirit of Universalism, . . 139 
 
 "Fair Lili's Heart's the Tent of Love," . 142 
 
 To Amoket, . . . . .143 
 
 The Dead, . . . . . .145 
 
 Lines composed after an Illness, . . 147 
 
 Lines Dedicated to our House of Representatives, 150 
 Lines to Miss N. S., . . . . . 154 
 
 The Death-Bed, ... 156 
 
 Nature's Voice, . . . . .158 
 
 Ballad — "With Lily-white Hand," &c., . 165 
 
 To the Exiles of Italy, . . . .168 
 
 Lines on Unfortunate Lovk, . . . 170 
 
 On Genius, . . . . . .173 
 
 To Amoret, . . . , .175 
 
 To Miriam, . . . . . .178 
 
 To My Impulse, ..... 180 
 
 Ambition, ...... 184 
 
 Amelia — X Fragment, . . . . 186 
 
 Spring — An Analogy, .... 204 
 
 One's Own Day-Dream, . . . 206 
 
atm^. 
 
 ETEKNITY OF POESY. 
 
 They tell me blind Maeonides is dead ! 
 That the sad Muses, bending o'er his bier, 
 Draped with the withered hopes of fallen man, 
 In sable garments chant the cycles sere ; 
 Whilst pale-browed Nature mourns her wont- 
 ed voice. 
 So musically pensive in the past, 
 Now hushed forever in one sepulchre. 
 Has beauty failed ? Needs then the soul 
 
 no tone, 
 That, varying with the tumults of the breast, 
 
 2 
 
10 POEMS. 
 
 May speak for spirit in each changeful mood ; 
 Whilst that a complex universe in forms 
 Of innate loveliness, and joy, and life. 
 May pass before it in a heart-review ? 
 Who dares to say one heart can fathom love ? 
 Or Being Absolute ! Or deathless thoughts. 
 Which weave their fancies but in god-like souls, 
 And, when once born, are clustered like the 
 
 stars 
 In the vast universe of mind expressed, 
 There to attract — repulse — and pour mild 
 
 rays 
 Of intermingled radiance upon Hope, 
 The child of Consolation and Desire ! 
 Who— wandering in sweet rhapsodies of soul. 
 Stealing unconsciously, like twilight dreams, 
 Into a heart of innocence and peace — 
 Oft gazes with devotion on those orbs, 
 All negligently sprinkled as they are 
 
ETERNITY OF POESY. 11 
 
 Throughout the iufiuite of Thought and God ; 
 Then pines to add one voice unto that choir 
 Of sister spheres and spirit-wanderers. 
 Oh ! I had thought the human heart divine, 
 And dreamt how waters of the spirit steal 
 Thro' winding chasms, and thro' darksome 
 
 glens 
 From source as inexhaustible as God ; 
 And I had dreamt of thoughts unutterable, 
 And glorious visions which no tongue may 
 
 tell; 
 And I had dreamt how loveliest joys are 
 
 veiled 
 From the far piercing eye of prophecy, 
 In the dim future of an untold age. 
 When light shall circle Spirit as a crown, 
 And e'en Maeonides shall be forgot. 
 And tuneful Milton wake the groves no 
 
 more. 
 
12 ^ POEMS. 
 
 They tell me blind Maeonides is dead, 
 
 And that great themes shall thrill the world 
 
 no more ! 
 Then must the heart be dead ! Lament the 
 
 dead ! 
 For in its beauty, and for depth of love, 
 I had supposed it infinite as God ! 
 
 Ah! Many souls, enchained, are bound to 
 
 Earth 
 Thro' beauty only, and the warm desire 
 One day to view the universal heart 
 Bloom like a flow^er ; that as leaf shields leaf 
 From over moisture or too fierce a beam — 
 When that a heavy dew may drip from 
 
 heaven. 
 Like distilled nectar from the feast of gods, 
 Crowning the jeweled cups fair Earth up- 
 
 rears 
 
ETERNITY OF POESY. 13 
 
 To catch tlie shower; or the keen noonday 
 
 rain 
 Of amber-shafted light may pelt the buds, 
 Reeling beneath the stroke in fainting 
 
 dreams — 
 So heart, close pressed to heart, may soon 
 
 display 
 The principles of union innate, where 
 Naught save harsh discord e'er hath reigned 
 
 'before ! 
 
 I tell thee aspirations shall not die ! 
 
 Tho' sympathy denied may waste the breast 
 
 That longs for a full echo to its sighs. 
 
 Yet, Nature, lost in utter loveliness, 
 
 And reveling within excess of charms 
 
 And power to please all such as come to 
 
 her, 
 Can never waft a longing to the past ! 
 
14 POEMS. 
 
 The present fair; — Earth's future gleams with 
 
 hope 
 Of joys superior to mortal range, 
 And thought extended to vast realms of mind, 
 Unknown, undreamt of in the cycles dead. 
 
SONG. 15 
 
 SONG. 
 
 WITH A BUMPER OF BURGUNDY. 
 
 Here's to the lady of my love! 
 The brilliant phantasies divine, 
 Which flow from mingled love and wine, 
 Might angels move! 
 ISTo seraph-lyre in languishing 
 O'er azure fields, could ever bring 
 The tenderness, 
 Of sunny memories to the soul. 
 Such as flash sparkling from the bowl, 
 In hours like this. 
 
 When every sigh is light, and every dream 
 is bliss! 
 
 Here's to the lady of my choice ! 
 Each languid pulse in constancy, 
 
16 POEMS. 
 
 Shall warm with love at music's sigh, 
 And lend its voice ! 
 
 Tho' forms of heavenly mould and brightness 
 Blend winning grace with airy lightness 
 To charm the eye, 
 
 Whilst 'wildering labyrinthine streams, 
 Whose spirit-waves enhance earth's dreams, 
 Glide listless by. 
 
 No angel-form may please, when Amoret is 
 niffh ! 
 
THE DANCE OF THE STARS. 17 
 
 THE DANCE OF THE STAKS. 
 
 Have you never heard the voices of The 
 Nidit ? 
 
 O 
 
 Come and hearken to them call 
 To the gaudy train of stars, 
 As they crowd unto the ball, 
 In a band of serried light, 
 At the bidding of the laughing Queen of 
 Night ! 
 
 Mark them tremble in their eagerness of 
 
 heart ! 
 While the lively pleasures throb, 
 How their sandals twinkle, twinkle 
 In the dance, unto the sob 
 Of the wind, that plays the part 
 Of the lute, the noisy viol, and the harj). 
 
18 POEMS. 
 
 Like the echo of an everiasting thought, 
 See them flash upon the eye, 
 In that giddy whirl of glee ; 
 Catch the music of that sisrh — 
 
 o 
 
 For the soul, of Nature taught, 
 Should awake responsive anthems of the 
 heart ! 
 
 Thus the universe is solaced of its woe ; 
 
 For heavenly tears are bright 
 
 As the soft descending shower 
 
 Ever glancing into light ; 
 
 They glide, singing as they go. 
 
 Like the laughter of the rivulets — their flow. 
 
NATURE AND THE SOUL. 19 
 
 NATUEE AND THE SOUL. 
 
 In the sunlight of the morning, 
 Ere the shadow steals its slow step 
 Froni the meads, and dewy valleys, 
 To the boundaries of the mountain. 
 And its deep-indented chasms ; 
 When the twin lips of Aurora 
 Breathe naught save immortal fragrance, 
 Wafting life, and health, and freshness. 
 O'er the flower-clad boughs and blossoms 
 And the wild wind woos so wildly. 
 And, in passing sighs and murmurs. 
 Speaks with such true heart and feeling 
 Of the wonders of Creation, 
 That all ope their leaves to listen. 
 As to faery tales of wonder ; 
 Till, that lost in love and longing, 
 
20 POEMS. 
 
 They would fain conceal their Ijlushes, 
 Tho' they know not how to hide them ; 
 When the light wells in the fountain, 
 As it weaves its sparkling fancies 
 'Neath the steadfast eye of heaven, 
 As tho' born of earth and darkness ; 
 Go thou — muse upon thy Being, 
 Thrilled with deep, eternal yearnings 
 Of the everlasting Spirit ; 
 So that in the calm of nature. 
 Thou may'st summon up before thee 
 Bright and never dying raptures; 
 Thoughts wdiich bow deep souls with yearn- 
 ings, 
 Everlasting heart-repinings 
 That their thoughts are not revealed. 
 
 They would paint them, and not speak them; 
 They would roll full tides of vision 
 
NATURE AND THE SOUL. 21 
 
 'Neath the approving gaze of Heaven, 
 That the eye of all might see them ; 
 They would weave enduring fancies 
 Out of aery clouds of nothing, 
 Like the castles of the sunset, 
 Or the purple ridge of mountains. 
 Or dissolving tints of rainbow, 
 Or the waving groves and willows ; 
 Thus their dreams would be revealed, 
 Like the thoughts of the Eternal. 
 
 Go thou — in the hush of Spirit, 
 That the still small voice of Reason 
 Deeply moving pure emotions 
 Of a soul that is immortal. 
 May like a clarion wake thee 
 Unto great resolves and daring. 
 
 Go thou ! — Burst the bands which bind us ; 
 3 
 
22 POEMS. 
 
 Mingle freely with the sunlight, 
 Till thou lose thyself in Nature, 
 And its dream-life be revealed 
 To the eye and to the reason ; 
 To the ear and to the feeling; 
 That the darting spray and sunshine, 
 And the gentle sigh of Evening, 
 And the calm still joy at sunset. 
 May be more unto the spirit 
 Than mere signs and painted baubles- 
 May from henceforth be — a feeling. 
 
SONNET. 23 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 IN THE UNA WAKENED MELODIES OF A HARP, 
 
 What soothing symjDhonies of sound and soul 
 Lie slumbering here, lulled in the lap of sleep ! 
 Thus must they slumber, till a master sweep 
 The echoing chords. Then in wild surges roll 
 The thrilling raptures ; under soft control 
 Of kingly art, we hear them laugh — or weep ; 
 While to sweet rhapsodies of spirit, leap 
 The trembling j)leasures, mingling sense with 
 
 soul! 
 Thus in the heart lie sleeping, lost in night, 
 A mild variety of shifting dreams ; 
 Each wayward thought, too fancifully bright. 
 Thro' Nature's half-raised veil in softness 
 
 gleams, 
 Waiting in eagerness for reason's ray 
 To pierce the clouds, and roll the mists away. 
 
24 POEMS. 
 
 ^ AN INVOCATION 
 
 TO GENTLE THOUGHTS, THAT THEY MAY DWELL 
 IN THE BREAST OF MISS M. P. 
 
 Spirits fair, which intertwine, 
 
 Dreams of being, far above 
 Brilliant phantasies of wine — 
 Milder strains than earthly love ; 
 On you I call — 
 Come one, come all ! 
 
 Wafted on the spicy air. 
 
 From the realms of dream-land, come ! 
 Come in varied forms, and fair ; 
 
 Malc:e her breast your constant home ; 
 In numbers rise. 
 Light up the skies ! 
 
AN INVOCATION. 
 
 Well I know the liuinaii heart 
 Can endure excess of light ; 
 Tho' a dull and sullied part 
 Of the chain of being bright. 
 Haste ! raise the pall 
 That darkens all ! 
 
 Shadows drear have fallen o'er 
 
 Human hopes and sympathies ; 
 Hearts which ne'er knew grief before 
 Now link hour to hour with sighs. 
 Disperse the shade 
 Despair has made ! 
 
 Nothing nobler well might be, 
 
 Than the sinner's heart renewed, 
 Thro' the grace which makes us free, 
 And the mild Redeemer's blood. 
 Forgiveness bring 
 From mercy's spring ! 
 
 3* 
 
26 POEMS. 
 
 Should our God full pardon give 
 
 For offences foul and dark ; 
 And in mercy bid us live 
 
 Henceforth lives of heavenly mark ; 
 Sweet strain for strain 
 We'll lisp again ! 
 
 All unpracticed in the art 
 
 Of the melodies of heaven, 
 "We will tune the grateful heart 
 To the strain — " We are forgiven ! 
 Glory to God, 
 Salvation's Lord !" 
 
 Haste to lift the cloud that veils 
 
 Heaven's deep mysteries from the sight; 
 Each pure spirit, joyful, hails 
 Earth's redemption to the right. 
 E'en in her fall, 
 God's all in all ! 
 
SONNET. 27 
 
 SONNET 
 
 TO LILI. 
 
 Most pure my love, tlio' it despised be ! 
 As a sweet violet, at midnight born, 
 Droops languisliingly ere the gentle dawn 
 May smile upon it — such my love for thee ; 
 Such the dim yearning of my heart for thee. 
 E'en thou shalt feel for me whenjoy has gone, 
 And the lithe spirit, of its beauty shorn 
 Shall wildly revel 'midst satiety, 
 No longer glancing heavenward with the eye 
 Of prayerful utterance, for the lovelier thought 
 Written upon thy brow; of its own sigh 
 From the fair palaces of dreamland brought 
 Heavily to Earth — in anguish there to die! 
 Sorely heart-stricken, there to bleed and die ! 
 
28 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 As some dark water, struggling long with 
 night — 
 Pent deep within the bowels of the earth — 
 Breaks thro' the trampled green, and wells 
 to light, 
 A choir of languor bubbling to the birth ; 
 The first wild tumult of its dashings past, 
 
 The softened cadence floating o'er the vale. 
 In dying murmurs still is fain to last 
 
 In the light echoes of the awakened dale ; 
 So unto God, 
 Th' Eternal Lord, 
 The yearnings of the soul are known ; 
 Each burning thought, 
 From Nature caught, 
 Is wafted upward towards his throne ! 
 
LINES. 29 
 
 As the wild rosebud wantons with the aii% 
 Then pines to find its sweetest fragrance 
 shed, 
 Till bent with anguish and oppressed with care, 
 
 It droops to mingle ashes with the dead ; 
 As one by one its leaves forsake their stem, 
 Hope whispers ever, when drear death be 
 past 
 Their much loved fragrance may i:eturn to 
 them, 
 Tho' scattered on the pinions of the blast ; 
 So with the heart 
 That's forced to part 
 With each dear rapture earth has given ; 
 Tho' crushed it lies, 
 And bleeding dies — 
 It dies to seek new joy in heaven ! 
 
30 POEMS. 
 
 TWO SONNETS 
 
 ON THE FINAL JUDGMENT. 
 I. 
 
 Forth from their spirit-sleep, the sheeted 
 dead 
 Bestir for judgment at the angel-blast; 
 That shrill alarum, ushering in a past 
 Dark-lined with memories to bow each head 
 In guilt's humiliation, strikes a dread 
 
 To every heart. With some, such pang 
 
 shall last 
 Forever — from mild Jesus' presence cast — 
 'Midst gnashing teeth, racked on tormenting 
 bed. 
 Deep-set — inflammable ; where scorching 
 rocks 
 
TWO SONNETS. 3i 
 
 Frame donjons huge ; rearing their horrent 
 front 
 One mass of flame, and formed of fiery 
 blocks, 
 Forced by machinery of howling winds 
 Tji keep such shape as best lost souls confines 
 In grounds thro' which heart- 'wildering ter- 
 rors hunt. 
 
 II. 
 
 And ye, ye blessed, crowned with glory's 
 
 wreath ; 
 Now ye, rejoicing, hymn the Saviour's 
 
 praise ; 
 Earth's mild Eedeemer; great in all his 
 ways! 
 Man — whilst with man he dwelt — a God in 
 
 death ! 
 Immortal anthems languish on each breath, 
 
32 POEMS. 
 
 Whilst spirit-wavelets rolled tliro' endless 
 
 days, 
 Chant low the limitless eternities ! 
 The heavens, fair arched above, the depths 
 
 beneath, 
 Awake to ecstasy at that sweet sound, 
 
 Soft issuing in a chain of linked sighs ; 
 Light silvery murmurs from the spheres re- 
 bound ; 
 Each starry sentinel in slumber lies — 
 Lulled by the flow of those heart-melodies — 
 Or in its orbit reeling, whirls around. 
 
SONG. 33 
 
 S N Ct . 
 
 Wheee have the mighty fled ? — 
 
 The lords of spirit, and the souls of song ! 
 
 For it doth seem to me, 
 
 That every godlike aspiration's dead ; 
 Earth has been crushed too long; 
 
 In vain, firm manacled, would Will be free ! 
 
 Where have the mighty fled ? 
 
 The wrinkled ages smile at us in scorn ; 
 Each hag her distaff" plies. 
 Seeming to say, " 'twere better to be dead. 
 
 Or even not been born, 
 Than that the soul should waste her power 
 in sighs !" 
 
 Where have the mighty fled ? 
 
 Sad Earth disowns a race degenerate ! 
 4 
 
34 roEMS. 
 
 In sable garb and weeds, 
 She mourns her offspring in her first-born 
 dead. 
 Time may his hanger sate, 
 On such as ne'er enacted godhke deeds! 
 
 Where have the mighty fled ? 
 
 Their tuneful echoes cry from Earth to God, 
 " It must and shall not be ! 
 For souls redeemed have with anguish bled 
 
 That we should hug the sod. 
 Earth and her languages shall yet be free !" 
 
 Where have the mighty fled ? 
 
 Deep, deep inurned in the human heart, 
 Their sainted memories pure, 
 Tho' to the past indissolubly wed, 
 
 Shall with each life-drop start, 
 Since age but hallows them, and cries — "En- 
 dure !" 
 
THE MORNING HOUR. 35 
 
 THE MOENING HOUR. 
 
 For in the morning hour I have gold in my mouth. 
 
 Jean Paul Richter. 
 
 When, from the dreams of night, 
 Eyes ope to view the light 
 Stream thro' the lattice bright 
 
 Bathed in mild splendor ; 
 Oh ! how the radiance soft 
 Bursts on the spirit, oft 
 Bearing the soul aloft 
 
 Past life's surrender! 
 
 Lost in the dreamy past, 
 Pleasures that ne'er could last. 
 Mist-like obscure and cast 
 Shades o'er the reason. 
 When thro' the realms of old 
 
36 POEMS. 
 
 Wings the free lieart and bold, 
 Life leaves the earthy mould 
 Chilled for a season; 
 
 Woven of subtle thought, 
 Dream-forms of air are brought — 
 Loved ones long vainly sought — 
 
 To the pure vision ; 
 Soon one mild image bright, 
 Drinks in the amber light 
 Cloud-like, and woos the sight 
 
 To scenes Elysian ! 
 
 Oh ! how a halo steals 
 
 O'er the 'wrapt soul, and heals 
 
 Wounds which the wan heart feels 
 
 Wedded to anguish ! 
 Mildly a spectre-hand, 
 Waves to the shadow-land. 
 
THE MORNING HOUR. 37 
 
 Where strains of spirit, grand, 
 Soothingly languish ! 
 
 But when the shadows steal 
 Till crushed beneath the heel, 
 Suddenly warm thoughts congeal, 
 
 Light forms have vanished ! 
 Dragged once again to earth 
 Home-thoughts cling round the hearth; 
 Dead to a nobler birth, 
 
 Mild dreams are banished ! 
 
 4* 
 
38 POEMS. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ON THE EETUEN OF A FAIE YOUNG LADY TO 
 HER FRIENDS AFTER A LONG ABSENCE. 
 
 AVe welcome thee as we would welcome Spring, 
 
 Eosy awakener of the slumbering flowers ! 
 
 Thee, Time obeys; the "lazy-pacing" hours 
 
 Quickened of thy clear thought— the mellow 
 
 ring 
 Of thy soft laugh — flash swiftly on the wing, 
 Besprinkled with the perfume and the 
 
 showers 
 Which, gentlest exercise of all thy powers 
 With other joys, has never failed to bring! 
 While absent, every heart has yearned for 
 thee 
 As for a charm, which once possessed, had 
 fled; 
 
SONNET. 39 
 
 But, tho' bereaved, yet it could not be 
 
 That we should think of thee as of the 
 dead; \ 
 
 E'en in remembrance too much life was left 
 For us to mourn sweet sense as so bereft. 
 
40 POEMS. 
 
 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 now AGE IS DEPENDENT UPON THE TRAINING 
 WE RECEIVE IN YOUTH. 
 
 Youth ! youth ! youth ! 
 
 With a heart that leaps to life, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 With a pulse that's ebbing fast ; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 When the spirit sounds to strife, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 When our hopes and fears are past ! 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 When its fervor warms each scene. 
 
YOUTH AND AGE, 41 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 "When the soul has lost its power; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 When each landscape's gay and green, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 When darkness rules the hour ! 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 When the heart throbs wild with love, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 When fairy dreams are banished ; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 That forgets its God above, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 When Earth's loved forms have vanished ! 
 
42 roEMS, 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 With its sighs, its tears, its jjaiiis; 
 
 Age ! age ! age ! 
 
 With its cahii and peaceful hour; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 With its winds, and storms, and rains; 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 With its mild refreshing shower ! 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 With a spirit wed to right, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 With its victor-palms and glory ; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 That looks to God for light. 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 48 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 Its crown, the head that's hoary ! 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 With a hand to aid the jDOor, 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 "With a heart yet young and tender ; 
 
 Youth! youth! youth! 
 
 That with grace still strives for more ; 
 
 Age! age! age! 
 
 Longing for Life's surrender ! 
 
 Death! death! death! 
 
 With a hand so stiff and chill ; 
 
 Death ! death ! death ! 
 
 Of the sunken eye and low, — 
 
44 roEMs. 
 
 Death! death! death! 
 Thou art both joy and ill; 
 Death ! death ! death ! 
 Thou art both friend and foe ! 
 
LINES. 45 
 
 LINES. 
 
 More than disconsolate — 
 
 Hated of her I love, 
 Blackening looms my fate 
 
 Where'er I move ! 
 
 Music held mystic sway 
 
 Long, long within my breast, 
 
 Chasing pale care away, 
 Whispering — " rest." 
 
 Now that mild hope is fled, 
 Stifling, a life-despair 
 
 Hisses — " tho' joy be dead. 
 Still is she fair!" 
 
 Ne'er shall heart-longings wake 
 Eapture as pure again — 
 
46 POEMS. 
 
 Heart-thrills for her sweet sake 
 Mingled with pain ! 
 
 Robbed of my earnest youth, 
 Fooled of my aim in life, 
 
 Still has she left me Truth 
 Ruling the strife ! 
 
 Singly to her I cleave. 
 
 Feeling that " God is Love;" 
 
 Earth's fleeting joys I leave 
 For bliss above ! 
 
 Could I have sinned at all 
 'Gainst beauty half so rare, 
 
 Know that death's gloomy pall 
 Soon hides despair ! 
 
 Man, tho' he reach to age. 
 Dies ere they bare the tomb— 
 
LINES. 47 
 
 Life's Ibol — the white-haired sau;e — 
 All seek their home : 
 
 Life's joy is waked of death; 
 
 Death is but change of form ; 
 Mingling in one quick breath 
 
 Either can harm ! 
 
 Maiden, so learn to live, 
 
 That when you come to die, 
 No thought may anguish give, 
 
 AVaking a sigh ! 
 
■iy rOEMS. 
 
 TO THE WILD EOSE. 
 
 Sweet flower so pure and white 
 
 Thy life is fleeting fast, 
 Each breath thou drawest breathe low, breathe 
 light, 
 
 For it may be thy last ! 
 
 Apart from storms and !::trife, 
 
 Protected from the gales. 
 Thou shadowest forth my dream of life. 
 
 Amid the scented vales ! 
 
 Each velvet leafs a page 
 
 Of dream-life unrevealed, 
 From glowing youth to wrinkled age 
 
 God's law thy lips hath sealedJ 
 
'J'U THE WILD ROSE. 40 
 
 Perchance, were lano;uao;e mven 
 To lisp dream-tliouglits to earth, 
 
 The incense wafted up towards heaven 
 Would hallow lowly birth ; 
 
 For as I look on thee 
 
 Still grows the thought divine, 
 The lowly soul's humility 
 
 Is shadowed forth in thine; 
 
 And as thy dreams are known 
 
 To spirits pure and fair ; 
 So does the Lord our God, alone, 
 
 Judge human hearts thro' prayer ' 
 
50 POEMS, 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ON THE EEASONABLENESS OF DEATH, 
 
 The soul of Music murmuring in a shell, 
 Wearied of Ocean's roar, longs for the land; 
 When rolled of kindly fortune to the strand, 
 Borne lightly o'er the bosom of a swell, 
 what sweet tremblings from its spirit well ! 
 Heart's silent dreams to melodies expand 
 With that new being : tones and feelings 
 bland 
 Gush with a rapture as thro' magic spell: 
 For harmony, dependent upon change, 
 Resembles man in Life's monotony. 
 Pining until mild Death enlarge the range 
 
 Of innate faculties and reason high ! 
 The dread of dissolution seems most strange 
 In souls immortal, wed to harmony! 
 
SONNET. 51 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 LAW OF INDIVIDUALITY AS EMBODIED IN THE 
 PHILOSOPHY OF SCHELLING. 
 
 FoEEVEE. and forever roaming free 
 
 The infinite of Being, there shall fall — 
 As heretofore to numbers musical — 
 
 A power enshrouding mind thro' law-decree 
 
 In forms of less or greater brilliancy ! 
 
 Thus Light wells as from a spring original, 
 Weaving its gauzy net-work over all 
 
 The broad expanse of Nature's wavy sea ! 
 
 But as those splendors die and fade away 
 In graduated links of beauty's chain, 
 The glories paling ne'er return again. 
 
 Nor those enwoven there forever stay ! 
 
 The gloomy shroud is stern necessity — 
 
 The rosy smile, mild Being's passing ray ! 
 
52 roEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 Oh ! who can paint tlie burning clieek 
 When sorrow, mingling with despair, 
 
 May find no deeper tone to speak. 
 Its anguish to tlie air ! 
 
 Tlie glow of love and shame, diffused 
 O'er many a pale and careworn brow. 
 
 Betokens how a heart abused 
 Still cherishes its vow ! 
 
 What tho' the pensive ear of Night 
 In silence drank those thrills of love, 
 
 AVhich were to last whilst circlets bright 
 Should weave the dance above ; 
 
 The soul that thirsts ibr haj)pine6S 
 Is oft misguided in the way, 
 
LINES. ■ 06 
 
 And dreameth not that deep distress 
 Shall crown the close of day ! 
 
 Then steel the heart to passion's call ; 
 
 Ah ! let not Love's delusive voice 
 Cast over youth's fair dream, the pall 
 
 Of a misguided choice ! 
 
54: roEMs. 
 
 "Oh! were I a star," he sang within his heart, "I 
 •would shine upon thee ; were I a rose, I would blossom 
 for thee; were I a sound, I would press into thy ear and 
 thy heart ; were I love, the happiest love, I would dwell 
 therein. Ah ! were I only a dream, I would visit thee 
 in slumber, and be the star, and the rose, and love itself, 
 and vanish only when you awoke!" — Jean Paul liichler. 
 
 Oh ! would I were a star, love, 
 
 That I might pour o'er thee 
 Soft trembling lines of silvery light, 
 Which, sliding down their pathway bright, 
 
 Might turn thy glance to me ! 
 
 Oh ! would I were a rose, love, 
 
 To paint my leaves for thee ; 
 Mild pencillings of melting views 
 In changeful rainbow-tints and hues 
 
 Should warm thine heart for me ! 
 
rOEMS. oo 
 
 Oh ! would I were thy heart's love, 
 
 I'd thrill the purest breast, 
 That ever waked a balmy sigh — 
 When none save God and heaven were nigh — 
 
 Or hushed its snows to rest ! 
 
 But were I but a dream, love, 
 
 I'd wing my way to thee; 
 Thro' all the realms of Nature sought, 
 The star, the rose, the secret thought. 
 
 Should nightly blend o'er thee ! 
 
56 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 SONNET 
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Love, admiration, friendship, are not bought ! 
 Unlike the sordid gems exhumed from 
 
 Earth, 
 These flash their sparkles at the lowly 
 hearth. 
 Whilst kings have mourned to view their 
 
 rays depart. 
 Compared to Friendship's recreating power 
 How vain, the rapturous thrills of eager 
 
 sense ! 
 How kindlv, praise and love's sweet in- 
 fluence 
 Encircle with new charms life's fleeting hour, 
 Till heart, impassioned, wills each joy to stay ! 
 
SONNET. 0/ 
 
 These, like swift gleams of lightning, may 
 not last ; 
 Winged of the sudden thought and laughing 
 eye— 
 A joyous train — they seek a smiling past, 
 Fair ushering into everlasting day 
 A mind imbued with love's eternity ! 
 
58 POEMS. 
 
 SONG OF THE FATES. 
 
 Twine, sisters, twine — 
 
 Sisters three, 
 
 Fatal three — 
 
 Threads of human destiny ! 
 
 This for the living, 
 
 That for the dead ; 
 
 Weave in a strand of memories fled ; 
 
 Twist them together to form one thread, 
 
 Till the cord becomes a chain — 
 
 Galling chain — 
 
 Coiling round, and round, and round, 
 
 Heart and mind, till each is hound, 
 
 And the living wish they were the dead ! 
 
 Twine, sisters, twine- 
 Sisters three, 
 
SONG OF THE FATES. 59 
 
 Fatal three — 
 
 Threads of mortal destiny ! 
 
 Here's for the living, 
 
 Here's for the dead, 
 
 Weave in a strand of hopes unfed ; 
 
 Twist them together to form one thread, 
 
 Till that life becomes a misery — 
 
 A sigh — 
 
 AVelling up, and up again, 
 
 From the heart-spring to the brain, 
 
 Till the living wish that they could die ! 
 
60 POEMS. 
 
 LINES. 
 
 Why do I mourn ? No soul is near ; 
 Earth lends no sympatlietic ear 
 
 To drink the strain ! , 
 
 The boundless fields of buoyant air ; 
 The wide expanse of forests drear, 
 
 But mock my pain ! 
 
 Once 'twas not thus! No lark so gay 
 When morning blushed, or closed the day 
 
 His tranquil eye ; 
 Then dreams came quick as moments fled , 
 But lay these memories with the dead — 
 
 I too would die ! 
 
 From earthly joys — from charms of sense — 
 An all discerning Providence 
 Would wean my mind : 
 
LINES. 61 
 
 Wliy mourn we thus for what is not ? 
 The past, when past, should be forgot, 
 Or reason bHnd ! 
 
 Is there a witchery in the strain 
 
 Sad memory wakes, tho' borne with pain 
 
 And silent tears ? 
 Who would resign one memory, 
 Sad tho' it be, for pleasure's lie 
 
 Thro' manhood's years? 
 
 Nature shall be the solacer 
 Of myriad woes ; unnatural fear 
 
 Of what may be, 
 A'anquished, shall wander far away ; 
 Nature alone shall be the stay 
 
 Of age for me ! 
 
POEMS. 
 
 LINES TO MISS J. M. W. 
 
 Say, would'st tliou have my spirit wear 
 A chain both sore and hard to bear ? 
 Show me a maid with light brown hair ! 
 
 A chain of sighs, whose links are tears, 
 
 Fast riveted of hopes and fears. 
 
 And thonghts which bow a soul for years ! 
 
 But, should she add a hazel eye 
 That liquid melts, tho' none be nigh— ^ 
 My heart is thrilled with ecstasy ! 
 
 And, should the chiseled lip be there, 
 Which, statue-like, breathes one rapt prayer ; 
 Immortals ! say ! — what is so fair ? 
 
SONG. 63 
 
 SONG. 
 Time is gliding on, 
 Like a river — like a river ; 
 The moments that have flown, 
 Have flown forever — ever ! 
 No wave may backward roll 
 AVith the deep impulse of soul ; 
 The seed each heart has sown, 
 Are sown forever — ever ! 
 
 Life is winding on, 
 Like a river — like a river ; 
 Each winged thought once flown. 
 Has flown forever — ever ! 
 We may ne'er recall the past, 
 Or make the present last ; 
 The deeds each soul has done, 
 Are done forever — ever ! 
 
(54 POEMS. 
 
 TO LILI. 
 
 When I gaze upon thy brow, Lili, 
 And see tlie artless smile 
 Illume thy face 
 Of matchless grace, 
 Which seems to know no guile; 
 I ask with tearful eye, Lili, 
 Could man but view thee now, 
 Who 'neatli the sun 
 Could picture one 
 So bright, so true as thou, Lili ; 
 So bright, so true as thou. 
 
 When I gaze upon thy brow, Lili, 
 And note the artful smile 
 Steal o'er thy face, 
 Of faultless grace. 
 
TO LILI. Go 
 
 O'ersliaclowing it the while ; 
 I ask with saddening tone, Lili, 
 Could man but know thee now, 
 Who 'neath the sun 
 Could image one, 
 So light, so false as thou, Lili ; 
 So light, so false as thou. 
 
66 POEMS. 
 
 LINES UPON FEELING. 
 
 I KNOW not what my heart would pay, 
 Yet shall my impulse have its way ; 
 Pure feeling should be unconfined, 
 And freed from trammels of the mind. 
 
 Reason may echo proljlems brought 
 From her own realms of tanerled thought: 
 But feeling never yet has found 
 An instrument her depths to sound. 
 
 What feeling is, and how it moves ' 
 The spirit that pure spirit loves, 
 Must ever rest as unrevealed, 
 As kindred truths to reason sealed. 
 
 The life within us hides its form 
 From frequent gaze; no curious charm 
 
LINES UPON FEELING, 67 
 
 Can pierce that veil which dazzles sight, 
 Or drag its glories to the light. 
 
 But when the favorite hour has come 
 In spirit ecstasy to roam 
 Forth thro' great Nature's wide domain — 
 Reason may call, and call in vain. 
 
 Feeling, her own and truest guide 
 To pure expression, will deride 
 Such feeble shackles as would bind 
 
 The loftiest soarings of the mind. 
 
 « 
 When feeling holds her faery court 
 Imagination wings each thought; 
 When intuition claims her sway, 
 E'en reason stoops, and must obey. 
 
68 POEMS. 
 
 DAPHNE AND STREPHON. 
 
 Fair Daphne's linked in friendship's chain, 
 
 But Strephon sighs for love; 
 Tho' oft he breathes the amorous strain 
 
 No prayer that heart can move. 
 
 One dewy morn, when all alone, 
 Not dreaming Daphne's nigh; 
 
 He thus begins his fate to moan. 
 And waken sigh by sigh : 
 
 "Ah, Daphne! cruel maid!" he cries, 
 " Why wound a constant breast; 
 
 Wilt still reject tumultuous sighs. 
 And wrong a flame confessed ? 
 
 As oft as I with burning cheek 
 Would breath love's warm desires, 
 
DAPHNE AND STREPHON. 69 
 
 Thy rosy lips of friendship speak, 
 And wake the smouldering fires. 
 
 But now, since tears may ne'er avail 
 
 To ease the careworn heart, 
 The lightest craft that hoistens sail 
 
 Shall me and Daphne part." 
 
 "Ah, silly swain!" a soft voice cries, 
 " How long must Nature prove 
 
 That when a handsome gallant sighs, 
 Maids mean by friendship — love!" 
 
70 POEMS. 
 
 THEORY OF CREATION. 
 
 What time Almighty will indued witli form 
 The crude and ill digested elements, 
 (Which heretofore, thro' endless ages past, 
 Strove to combine in numbers musical,) 
 ^Ether, fair Nature's prime material. 
 Was moved to hear his voice. Thence light 
 
 was born — 
 Bright tension of the one original — 
 And Time first throbbed his seconds to the 
 
 glance 
 Of myriad and well directed spears 
 Hurled thro' thick darkness — tilting at the 
 
 void 
 Which rolled before them moulded to a sphere 
 Impenetrable; shrouded from the rays 
 Grlancing in colors from the upturned shield 
 
THEORY OF CREATION. 71 
 
 Which guards the heart of envious Nothing- 
 ness. 
 Thus first the glories of Eternal Mind 
 Were wove in language, which, to speak direct 
 To every heart that loves the beautiful, 
 Was syllabled from alphabet of stars, 
 That all might read who chose. But he who 
 
 would 
 Falsely traduce this language of the soul, 
 By interlining truth with falsity 
 On Nature's manuscript, must inly pine 
 God's work's so far removed; feeling heart- 
 pain 
 That others, innocent of malicious schemes. 
 Will read with joy the thoughts imprinted 
 
 there ; . 
 Existence of a God immutable. 
 Whose pleasure, character, and name, is 
 Love ; 
 
72 POEMS. 
 
 Whose life is circled of one principle — 
 
 The power of being loved by those He loves ; 
 
 Whilst Reason acts thro' high creative Will 
 
 Able to mould all being to all forms, 
 
 With Wisdom's self to guide thatWill aright. 
 
THE FALLING STAR, 73 
 
 THE FALLING STAR. 
 
 'TwAS eve — a summer's eve — and starlight 
 
 reigned ; 
 Biit my fond heart throbbed to a higher key 
 Than that of Nature in its loveliest strain — 
 For at my side shown Beauty idolized ! 
 A lady of the mildest grace and form, 
 Walked arm-in-arm with me, whose love-lit 
 
 eyes 
 Streamed thro' the night, and bade the dark- 
 ness flee. 
 So soft their radiance, that the stars looked 
 
 down, 
 Longing to catch sweet Music's deeper soul ; 
 One, stooping too near earth, in eagerness 
 Of love's unutterable ecstasy, 
 Encroached upon the orbits of her eyes, 
 When, lost in brilliancy, it sank to night ! 
 
74 POEMS. 
 
 ADDEESS 
 
 TO THE FARMERS, WHO, PRAYING FOR RAIN, 
 WERE ANSWERED BY A THUNDER GUST, 
 WHICH WORKED THEM AN INJURY. 
 
 Ye have your wish, ye men of wheat. 
 
 Lean horses, pigs, and cattle; 
 The winds of heaven in conflict meet. 
 
 Ranged valiantly to battle. 
 
 For three long weeks in sunny June 
 Ye wrung your hands in anguish. 
 
 Beseeching God to send rain soon. 
 Lest corn and plenty languish. 
 
 Now that the muffled skies are black. 
 And spirit-drums yield thunder, 
 
ADDRESS. 75 
 
 Whilst lightnings stretch the eye on rack, 
 Ye own too late your blunder. 
 
 Your corn is beaten to the plain, 
 
 Stark crazed with fright your cattle ; 
 
 God's whirlwind champions ride amain 
 So valiantly to battle. 
 
 But while ye mourn, the deep-souled sky 
 Behind the dark clouds laughing. 
 
 Shall celebrate Eternity — 
 Immortal sunlight quaffing ; 
 
 Soon Earth's warm smile shall greet the eye — 
 The threatening storm-clouds sever; 
 
 The rainbow-arch of victory 
 Hangs over earth forever. 
 
76 POEMS. 
 
 TO AMOEET, 
 
 UPON THE MARRIAGE OF HER SISTER. 
 
 One smiling eve, slow step I turned 
 To where the Santee flows ; 
 The dewy valleys clothed in green, 
 Lay glistening with silver sheen. 
 For in the blue the planets burned 
 As Cynthia fair arose ! 
 
 When, lo ! just near I chanced to spy 
 A sweet-brier blooming fair; 
 Each opening bud with promise smiled. 
 Whilst those full blown, in radiance mild, 
 As tho' to tempt a passer-by, 
 Swayed gracefully in air. 
 
TO AMORET. 77 
 
 Siicli beauty waked tlie warm desire 
 To win one to my hand ; 
 Witli critic glance I gazed on all; 
 When, lo ! I heard a footstep fall 
 That warned me in swift haste retire, 
 And at a distance stand. 
 
 A handsome stranger won his way 
 
 Straight to the fragrant tree; 
 
 My heart beat loud with anxious fear 
 
 Lest that fair glory disappear — 
 
 Plucked hastily and borne away — 
 
 Which won my heart and me. 
 
 But, ah! so various is the taste 
 
 That reigns o'er mortals' choice; 
 His sleeve but dashed the roseate dew, 
 In reaching for a flower, which grew 
 
78 POEMS. 
 
 In beauty near, so pure and chaste 
 It bade the eye rejoice. 
 
 Thus, Amoret, I feared thy grace 
 Might win a wooer's eye; 
 But he o'erlooked thy beauteous birth. 
 And stooping nearer to the earth, 
 Became enamored of a face 
 
 That beamed in radiance nigh. 
 
DIALOGUE. 
 
 DIALOGUE BETWEEN A POET AND 
 HIS LYRE. 
 
 I. 
 
 When first I raised tlie trembling lyre 
 
 And swept with transient touch the strings, 
 To wake the lay of soft desire 
 
 Or soothe the sigh that sorrow brings, 
 Faint Echo caught the lingering strain ; 
 
 Ere yet its tremblings died away, 
 The soft vibrations breathed a name 
 
 That woke anew the slumbering lay ; — 
 'Twas thy name, Mary. 
 
 II. 
 
 And still its tremblings answered low 
 Pv,esponsive to the name it waked. 
 
80 POEMS. 
 
 And moved all to music's ebb and flow, 
 Flooding both hill and dale, green sward 
 and woodland lake; 
 
 Whilst ofttimes it a sinuous course would take 
 
 Thro' caverned rocks, and briary-brambled 
 brake 
 
 Which gave back sigh for sigh, and throe for 
 throe ; 
 
 Whilom all nature gushed with one heart- 
 melody. 
 
 III. 
 
 Cease ! cease thy murmuring ! 
 
 Or would'st thou break my heart ? 
 
 Canst not impart 
 
 Some other whisper to the distant hills ? 
 
 Nay ! Grreece with all her rills 
 
 Could never echo half so sweet a strain ! 
 
 Then sigh again ! 
 
DIALOGUE. 81 
 
 IV. 
 
 What would'st tliou have me sigh ? 
 
 That joy must die ! 
 
 That all the loved and beautiful of earth ; 
 
 That white-robed purity and worth ; 
 
 That great thoughts teeming to their birth, 
 
 Are as the incense on the air — 
 
 A moment here — a moment there, 
 
 Or as " the wind that idly passeth by?" 
 
 V. 
 Nay, stay thy hand ! That well known theme's 
 
 too sad, 
 
 And one brought nearer to the heart of man 
 
 By the slow lapse of silent centuries ! 
 
 It courses, fiery-pulsed, along his veins. 
 
 With every beat which times life's destiny ! 
 
 Each second views the burning flood glide on 
 
 In eddying circles toward the source of life ; — 
 
82 POEMS. 
 
 With noiseless flow, pouring its fire-lapped 
 
 waves 
 Around the anguished heart, which, half 
 
 subdued, 
 Fainting 'neath excess of ceaseless wavering 
 'Twixt hope and fear, ever is ill at ease, 
 Until with power adverse it pours it back 
 To ebb forever in a reckless whirl 
 Along the parched and dried up arteries, 
 Flooding each separate organ linked to 
 
 thought : 
 Nay, sing not that ! 
 
 Each soul's its own musician for that strain; 
 'Tis the silent music of man's being — 
 Sad as his destiny ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then I will sing 
 Of the daedal Earth 
 
DIALOGUE. 
 
 And the dancing stars ; 
 The workl shall ring 
 With the Titan's birth 
 And the deeds of Mars ! 
 
 The glittering helm, 
 The quivering spear 
 And thrice bound shield; '^ 
 Dark Pluto's realm, 
 With pale-faced Fear, 
 And hearts that yield ! 
 
 I will smg of a spring, 
 And the 'wilderiug maze 
 Of its winding stream ; 
 How the Ijlue bells ring 
 When their heads they raise 
 'Neath the moon's soft beam 
 
 83 
 
84 POEMS. 
 
 How the light elves swing 
 On the bending blade 
 As it sways to the breeze ; 
 And their wee songs ring 
 Thro' the gladsome glade 
 As they loll at ease ! 
 
 They are borne to the sky- 
 To the infinite blue 
 And its arched dome; 
 As they ride on high, 
 They are lost to view 
 In the spirit's home ! 
 
 The fire-fly now 
 Suggesteth a song 
 As it wingeth the air ; 
 With its radiant glow, 
 As it wendeth along. 
 And its meteor-glare ! 
 
DIALOGUE. 85 
 
 As it wanders afar, 
 It is lost to the sight 
 In the measureless dark; 
 Like a full orbed star 
 It sprinkles the light 
 Of its lumitious spark I 
 
 VII. 
 
 Why wilt thou grieve a heart forsworn ? 
 
 Already now the hour has past 
 When melodies like thine may last ; 
 Thy softest lay 's received with scorn. 
 
 The wildest music Earth has given — 
 The most irregular and sweet — 
 Wherein the thought and action meet, 
 
 Were echoing symphonies of heaven. 
 
 Then prythee, pipe a simple lay, 
 Nor from the laws of metre stray ; 
 
 8* 
 
86 roEMS. 
 
 The loveliest thought — the wildest throe ; 
 The brightest joy — the deepest woe, 
 Will never once excuse the line 
 That breathes of sympathies divine ! 
 
 VIII. 
 What ! would'st thou bind the freedom of my 
 
 verse ? 
 By what old statute w^ouldest thou coerce ? 
 Didst ever hear the thunder's distant roar, 
 Or the wild surges by the lone sea-shore ? 
 Didst ever view the lights and shadows play 
 Upon the sleep)ing hills, and flee away 
 With lightning speed, until they cease to 
 
 roam, 
 Vanquished and lost within the evening's 
 
 gloom ? 
 Then tell me in what ratio they move. 
 That I may learn of them to sing of love ! 
 
DIALOGUE. Ol 
 
 Each globe of night is tremulously hung 
 Self-poised in vacancy, and boundless space 
 Alone confines the ardor of the race, 
 As ray leads ray to mingle in the chase 
 To nothing tending, and from nothing sprung ! 
 
 'Tis eve, and stillness reigns supreme ! 
 
 Each wave of air speaks whisperingly low, 
 
 Lulling the spirit in its dream 
 
 Of voiceless happiness or saddening woe ! 
 
 All pulseless is the heart; the noiseless flow 
 
 Of the pure Reason's limpid stream 
 
 Scarce wakes the burden of the outbreathed 
 
 sigh ; 
 The groves wherein the breezes lie. 
 Guarded of close-lipped Silence, anxious seem 
 To murmur Nature's holy lullaby : 
 
 IX. 
 
 The winds awake, 
 
 The streamlets dance; • 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Grove nods to grove 
 
 From its dreamy trance 
 And wliispers, ''love!" 
 
 The ruffled lake 
 
 Inclines the ray ; 
 From swell to swell 
 
 The murmurs play, 
 And whisper, " well !" 
 
 The joyous birds 
 
 Now swarm the moor; 
 A sweeter note 
 
 Than e'er before 
 Now swells the throat. 
 
 The lark pours forth 
 Her evening lay ; 
 
 Like morning frost 
 It melts away, 
 
 Forever lost ! 
 
DIALOGUE. 
 
 Each tiling of life 's 
 
 A happy wight; 
 Each supple wing 
 
 Is bathed with light 
 Evanishing ! 
 
 The free wind bends 
 
 The scalloped boat ; 
 Beneath the gale 
 
 Two shadows float 
 With well trimmed sail ! 
 
 X. 
 
 If thou would 'st only ease my soul 
 Of all that burns within it, 
 
 I'd praise thee with my latest breath ;- 
 Canst do it ? Pray begin it. 
 
 Tell her — the maiden of my dreams — 
 My heart still loves her dearly, 
 
 89 
 
90 POEMS. 
 
 That every glance and every sigh 
 Betokens how sincerely. 
 
 Tell her, I love her with a soul 
 
 That feels it is a duty 
 To bend in reverence and awe 
 
 Before the shrine of beauty; 
 
 That shame and scorn can never change 
 The pure and constant spirit; 
 
 'Tis lost within the beautiful — 
 'Twas formed to worship merit ! 
 
 Oh ! constancy 's its own reward 
 E'en tho' it may be slighted, 
 
 The flower it rears, the blossom love — ■ 
 Where didst thou find it blighted ? 
 
 A gleam of hope expands its leaves, 
 Tho' nipped within the hour, 
 
DIALOGUE. 91 
 
 Another and a lovelier bloom 
 Bursts forth to prove its power ! 
 
 The more you bend the fragrant tree 
 
 The purer perfume sheds it, 
 Mild incense, mist-like, floats around, 
 
 The air of heaven weds it ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 Canst sing of love ? — undying love ? 
 
 Canst paint a calm still yearning ? 
 Canst whisper of the fiery tide 
 Within the spirit burning ? 
 
 Canst murmur how 
 
 I breathed a vow 
 To grace one shrine forever ? 
 
 Winged Time shall prove 
 
 A spirit-love 
 No earthly tie may sever ! 
 
92 POEMS. 
 
 I'll do my best; 
 
 At tliy behest 
 I'll paint the constant spirit; 
 
 I'll prove that love 
 
 Soars far above 
 High talent, mind, or merit ! 
 
 Then pray begin, — 
 Thy guerdon win, — 
 
 Eternal fame elate thee; 
 The Graces stand 
 With wreaths in hand. 
 
 May bright success await thee ! 
 
 Then be all ear; 
 
 Thou need'st not fear, 
 My spirit drinks each murmur ; 
 
 List to a strain to ease thy pain 
 Then — cling to love the firmer ! 
 
DIALOGUE. 93 
 
 XII. 
 
 I love a maid — I love but ane; 
 
 She recks na of my love na me, 
 She binds me wi' a triple chain 
 
 Whilst Joy sits laughing in her e'e ! 
 
 Of faultless air, of matchless grace, 
 She wiles my listless heart away 
 
 Each passing glory of her face 
 Outrivals morn's serenest ray ! 
 
 I love a maid — I love but ane; 
 
 Soft music breathes from every feature, 
 Yet, whilst she gies all others pain 
 
 God ne'er could mould a lovelier creature: 
 
 The sunny glance — the 'witching smile — 
 
 The starlight tangled in her tresses 
 Which ever and anon the while 
 ■ Fall o'er her neck in soft caresses ; 
 
 9 
 
94 POEMS. 
 
 The snowy arm, its beauties bare, 
 Beguiles my soul of all its leisure ; 
 
 The floating meteor of her hair 
 
 Has robbed my heart of every pleasure ! 
 
 And whilst I sigh, and whilst I gaze. 
 My burning spirit 's hushed in sadness, 
 
 Lost far within the 'wildering maze 
 
 Of deepening woe, and maniac gladness ! 
 
 I love a maid — I love but ane; 
 
 When God first breathed soft music o'er her 
 The flowers entranced of the strain 
 
 With glowing bosoms bowed before her ! 
 
 The wildino; rose — her incense shed — 
 Grew faint beneath excess of pleasure ; 
 
 The poppy reared its dreamy head ; 
 
 The violet breathed its choicest treasure ; 
 
DIALOGUE. 95 
 
 The blue bell tolled its fairy note — 
 
 Tho' of its music ever chary, 
 The woodlark warbled from her throat — 
 
 The dream of love — the name of Mary ! 
 
 Ah, me! my heart! Thou, too, bewrayed 
 Wert captured when all unwary, 
 
 The trembling note soft Nature made 
 
 Breathed thro' thy chords the name of 
 Mary! 
 
 The whisperings die — the accents faint — 
 Yet still the rapture burns within me. 
 
 Whilst heart-throbs wed the voiceless plaint, 
 Nae other murmur e'er shall win me ! 
 
 Still will I love, and love but ane, 
 Tho' naething save despair abide me, 
 
 Tho' madness seize upon the brain, 
 And all who know me may deride me ! 
 
96 POEMS. 
 
 Still will I love, and love but ane, 
 
 The' every freeborn tliouglit forsake me, 
 
 And Fever witli his gliastly train 
 Of tort'ring phantasies, o'ertako me ! 
 
 And when these lips are paled in death, 
 Soft harmonies shall float between them — 
 
 The echoings of their former breath — 
 Nae other strain shall e'er demean them ! 
 
 The soul enraptured of that strain 
 Around those lips shall restless hover, 
 
 Nae mair compressed with maddening pain 
 But breathing of the constant lover ! 
 
 And when laid low within the toml), 
 That voice shall wake the silent dust, 
 
 Earth's loathsome vault, and som!)re gloom, 
 Shall hold in vain the breatliino; Itust! 
 
DIALOGUE. 97 
 
 The heart shall beat its measured stroke ; 
 
 Love's calm pulsations thrill the breast; 
 Till Death's stern power, forever broke, 
 
 Leave conquering spirit to its rest ! 
 
98 POEMS. 
 
 ETERNITY. 
 
 Lost in a vision, I beheld, and lo ! 
 
 An ocean — shoreless as the realms of night — 
 
 Toward which, as to a home, each restless 
 
 wave 
 Points it froth-cap : — as tho' rest could be 
 
 found 
 For that to which God whispers, " flow for- 
 ever !" 
 No ebb was there — no tide ; no beach whereon 
 To spread the dazzling white cloth of its foam ; 
 For evermore, shoreless, surge strives with 
 
 surge 
 To win a path straight forward to the goal 
 That still recedes before the combatants, 
 Enshrouded in the black pall of a night 
 Which knows no moon, nor solitary star 
 
ETERNITY. 99 
 
 To unveil darkness in her drear retreat! 
 And then, oh, man ! poor earthworm ! reck- 
 less fool! 
 I saw thee point the decorated prow 
 Wreathed with the painted baubles of the 
 
 earth. 
 Toward that wild chaos of unending night. 
 As tho' ensured from shipwreck'd woe, and 
 
 harm, 
 And life were but the plaything of the hour — 
 An evening sail upon an inland stream ! 
 
100 POEMS. 
 
 LINES ON FEELING. 
 
 When the golden tide of feeling 
 
 Softly lulls the soul to rest, 
 A truer phase revealing 
 
 Of the world within the breast, 
 'Tis then I love to wander 
 
 'Mid the hills and painted fields, 
 Where pensive I may ponder 
 
 The truths its ray reveals. 
 
 Far softer than the sunlight 
 
 . Upon a hazy day, 
 
 When the first bright beam of morning 
 
 Hastes to roll the mists away ; 
 Far kindlier than the moonlight 
 
 That dreams its life away 
 
LINES ON FEELING. lUi 
 
 On the purple-tinted landscape 
 That is wearied of the day : 
 
 Far milder than the twilight 
 
 Which guards the gate of ev'n, 
 When the red orb seeks his rest, 
 
 And glooms the vault of heaven ; 
 Far gentler than the starlight 
 
 That floods the darkened dome, 
 Is this golden tide of feeling 
 
 That calls the spirit home ! 
 
 The soul — it often wanders 
 
 From its own ethereal sphere. 
 Life's truest wealth it squanders. 
 
 Nor counts its blessings dear ; 
 It sighs for other pleasures 
 
 Than those true thought reveals; 
 It seeks for other treasures 
 
 Than those the spirit leels. 
 
102 POEMS. 
 
 oil ! were it not for feeling, 
 
 Heart might forever roam, 
 No voice to guide it rightly, 
 
 No hand to point it home ! 
 This steals upon the spirit 
 
 Ere the soul be well aware, 
 In spite of each demerit 
 
 It floats upon the air; 
 
 It softens every feeling, 
 
 It soothes each care to rest. 
 And like a balm of healing 
 
 Stills the tumults of the breast ! 
 'Tis void of all impression. 
 
 The soul could never give 
 Its faintest tints expression, 
 
 Or bid its glories live ! 
 
 Thus, 
 When the golden tide of feelino; 
 
LINES ON FEELING. 103 
 
 Softly lulls the soul to rest, 
 A truer phase revealing 
 
 Of the world within the breast, 
 'Tis then I love to wander 
 
 'Mid the hills and painted fields, 
 Where pensive I may ponder 
 
 The truths its ray reveals ! 
 
104 POEMS. 
 
 THE UNIVEESAL HEAET. 
 
 No soul so dark, or sunk so low, 
 But oft hath felt a nobler throe 
 Than e'er hath won a poet's name 
 Or twined the lasting crown of fame. 
 
 The wreaths they wear — the illustrious few — 
 They have derived from me and you; 
 Our common nature rears the flower 
 Their hands have plucked in kindlier hour. 
 
 With taste and care they weave and twine 
 The wreaths which should be yours and mine, 
 Then wear in cold insanity 
 The crown that's due humanity ! 
 
 Tho' overflowing like the bowl 
 Of generous wine, the poet's soul 
 
THE UNIVERSAL HEART. 1U5 
 
 Is emptiness — inanity, 
 
 To the thoughts which bow humanity. 
 
 The universal heart shall beat 
 With deepening pulses, still and deep, 
 Tho' ne'er a dream that floods its mind 
 May spiritual expression find. 
 
 Its thoughts are deeper than the earth ; 
 Thou, God, alone canst give them birth ; 
 Toward thee alone still swells the tide 
 Engulfing all the world beside. 
 
 10 
 
106 POEMS. 
 
 HYMN TO THE CATHOLIC CHUECH. 
 
 IN THE SPIRIT OF A CONVERT. 
 
 Had I but known tliee, Church of God, 
 
 Amid my boyish years, 
 I had not bowed beneath the rod 
 
 Of servile hopes and fears : 
 Childish disciple at thy feet, 
 
 I should have caught thine accents sweet 
 Nor wandered far from righteousness; 
 
 Thou Spouse of Christ, our Saviour mild, 
 
 Hadst hushed to calm the passions wild 
 Which rob me of my bliss ! 
 
 Now that the midnight surges raise 
 
 Their clamor to the sky, 
 Can Reason safely thread the maze 
 
 Of strife and anarchy ? 
 
HYMN TO THE CATHOLIC CHUECH. 107 
 
 Alas ! fair Reason's gaze is blind; 
 
 No other refuge may we find 
 
 Save tliee, thou Church — thou ark of God ! 
 
 Hope as a rainbow gilds the storm; 
 
 Fixed faith defends those hearts from harm 
 Whose trust is in his word ! 
 
 I know that o'er the mountain's brow 
 
 Thy chariot-wheels are heard ! 
 I know the grieved and sorrowing now 
 
 Are blessed within thy word ! 
 To Thee I come, Saviour mild, 
 A simple, trusting, tearful child — 
 Usher my spirit to thy rest ; 
 
 lead me to thy Spouse on Earth ; 
 
 bless me with the second birth 
 Low hushed upon thy breast ! 
 
 Thou Spirit, point me to the path 
 Of peace without alloy; 
 
108 POEMS. 
 
 Ye holy martyrs shield from wratli 
 
 A heart without a joy; 
 Be thine, sweet mother of my Lord, 
 The prayer which wins me to my God 
 And seals my soul from misery; 
 
 A wretch, betrayed without, within. 
 Sorely estranged by care and sin. 
 Dares raise his voice to Thee ! 
 
SONNET. 109 
 
 SONNET ON CHATTERTON. 
 
 Already time has brought about the year, 
 Wherein I number days as fair and round 
 As those that youthful Chatterton have bound, 
 And ushered to death's gloom on boyhood's bier! 
 Would that my burning heart-throes were as 
 
 dear 
 To man's warm pulse as his ! That the sweet 
 
 sound 
 Which speaks his praises, and }X)ints out the 
 
 mound 
 
 Where genius lies, might lover-like be near 
 
 My sad remains ! Oh ! I would willingly 
 
 Be wrapped in slumber 'neath some flowery sod, 
 
 There to be hid, and there unconscious lie. 
 
 Till the dread trump should summon me to God, 
 
 Could that but win the love for which I burn, 
 
 And link my name to such as may not die ! 
 1 0-- 
 
110 roEMS. 
 
 DETERMINATION. 
 
 I DWELL in a whirl of ideas ! 
 
 My fiery thoughts are the trampling steeds 
 
 That wing their way to the spheres ! 
 
 Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! 
 
 How they beat the air with the burning hoof, 
 
 Rearing aloft, and rearing aloof, 
 
 Whilst my heart throbs wild with its fears ! 
 
 Tramp! tramp! tramp! 
 
 With the aery step of Pegasus, 
 
 Storming the pass to Parnassus ! 
 
 In the fair morning dream of life, 
 
 The spirit wakens to inborn strength. 
 
 Gallantly arming for strife ! 
 
 Strife ! strife ! strife ! 
 
 Till Nature succumbs to the sturdy stroke 
 
 And her spirit-charms and chains are broke, 
 
DETERMINATION. Ill 
 
 Which else would have bound us for life ! 
 
 Strife ! strife ! strife ! 
 
 With iron will and a constant aim : 
 
 Thus each spirit should dare a great fame ! 
 
112 POEMS. 
 
 THE HERMIT. 
 
 In a laud of clustering rosevS, tinged with 
 
 many a lively hue, 
 Where merry Sunshine braids her hair, and 
 
 bares her breast to view; 
 In a land of lightsome echoes, sweeping wildly 
 
 o'er the lyre 
 Soft Music hangs within the groves to wake 
 
 and soothe desire, 
 Lived and died a lonely hermit, mild of eye 
 
 and pure of heart — 
 For in shunning of the world's embrace he 
 
 chose the nobler part — 
 When that Honor weaved a chaplet of fair 
 
 hopes to grace his brow. 
 He had fled from earthly grandeur, binding 
 
 on his soul, a vow. 
 With a spirit wed to Nature, in bright youth 
 
 his soul had loved 
 
THE HERMIT. 113 
 
 Each living thing that breathed the air — each 
 creeping thing that moved, 
 
 For his eye — it drank the glory of the amber- 
 tinted sky, 
 
 And to his heart the wild winds spake that 
 listless wandered by ; 
 
 God had lulled him in the poet's dream, and 
 with a poet's tongue 
 
 He pictured Earth as first she smiled, her 
 pristine beauty sung ; 
 
 He could paint the burnished mountains glow- 
 ing in the evening's ray. 
 
 And o'er the blushing landscape make the 
 rosy cloudlets stray. 
 
 When twilight-voices whisper, singing lullaby 
 to Mirth, 
 
 And heavenly calm falls with the dew that 
 glist'ning veils the Earth ; 
 
 When Morning swings her censer thro' the 
 dreamy realms of air. 
 
114 POEMS. 
 
 In lowliness of spirit, see him kneel and offer 
 
 prayer : 
 Thus mysteries are lightened, and his soul 
 
 is lost in day, 
 Whilst angel forms, with shining spears, 
 
 thrust Darkness far away, 
 The future — sweetly smiling on the present — 
 
 points above 
 To glorious clouds of witnesses which throng 
 
 the throne of Love. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 Thus in Age the heart is gladdened, and on 
 angel-wings shall soar 
 
 When scattered locks and feeble steps pro- 
 claim the conflict o'er ; 
 
 For the soul that shunneth evil in the early 
 morn of Youth, 
 
 E'en in Time shall view Eternity, and wear 
 the crnwii of Truth ' 
 
SONG. 115 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Who loves not to gaze 
 
 On the timid-eyed gazelle, 
 As she wanders 'mid the maze 
 
 Of the hills she loves so well ? 
 By the crystal fount that flows 
 
 Murmuring, murmuring 
 Joy to the breezy groves, 
 
 Answering, answering, 
 Gaily she trips along, 
 Keeping step to Nature's song ! 
 
 But I love more to gaze 
 
 Into woman's gentle eye. 
 As her lashes soft are raised 
 
 In rapture to the sky. 
 For I feel, and I know 
 
 There's more music in her soul. 
 Than unseen choirs in wandering 
 
 In spirit-measures roll ! 
 
116 POEMS. 
 
 LINES TO MISS R. L. N. 
 
 With a smile of sunshine, 
 With an eye of laughter 
 Driving on their merry dance 
 Tripping sunbeams ; with a glance 
 Such as sparkles warm with wine, 
 Or the dream — hereafter : 
 
 With a soul, displaying 
 
 Treasuries of beauty 
 Ever riveting the gaze ; 
 Overflowing with the praise 
 It would fain be saying 
 
 In defence of duty : 
 
 With the hope of heaven 
 'Graven on thy spirit; — 
 
 As thou art, we love thee, 
 
 With the dreams which move thee. 
 
 For to such is given 
 
 More than worldly merit ! 
 
SONNET. ll' 
 
 SONNET 
 
 On the erection of Bartholomew' s Statue of 
 Washington over the store of iV! W., of 
 Baltimore, January 23(i, 1859. 
 
 Who would have thought it, mighty "Wash- 
 ington, 
 That form as sacred to each heart as thine, 
 Tho' lifeless marble, e'er would be a sign 
 To marshal in "the trade?" And Thou! 
 
 Great Son ! 
 America's lost Joy — whose race has run — 
 Thrice mourned Bartholomew ! Had'st Thou 
 
 forseen 
 This horrid sacrilege of things divine. 
 The cold, cold lips of stone had wreathed 
 their scorn 
 11 
 
118 POEMS. 
 
 'Neath thy creating hand ! Then thou, in 
 
 tears 
 Repentant, streaming in a hallowed flood 
 Adown thy careworn cheeks, had poured thy 
 
 blood 
 Christening Earth, rather than future years, 
 Pure guardians of thy miracles and name, 
 Should scar thy scutcheon with a soiled fame ! 
 
SONNET. 119 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 To Mrs. Fanny Kenihle, upon hearing her 
 read Macbeth, December 20, 1858. 
 
 Inimitable actress of tlie soul, 
 The languages of Reason and the Heart, 
 Woven adroitly in each subtle part, 
 When thou art reading, on the senses roll ! 
 That voice alone could well express the whole 
 Had not thine eye its meanings to impart ! 
 Now hushed to calm we sit, and now we start ! 
 Each will dethroned, yields its weak control 
 Over passionate desires unto thee, 
 That thou mayest train them in obedience 
 To fickle government, till they shall see 
 Vain opposition ends in impotence. 
 Without a show of reason or of sense. 
 While to submit is truly to be free ! 
 
120 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 My heart expanded like a flower 
 
 Too early blown, 
 Unclierished by mild April-shower, 
 
 Or rearino; sun. 
 
 Where it lies withered, others wave 
 
 In crimson dress; 
 Their leaves the dripping night-dews lave — 
 
 Soft winds caress. 
 
 What tho' they dance and sing aloud — 
 
 All, all must die ! 
 The sparkling dew shall glide, a shroud 
 
 From noiseless sky. 
 
 The summer drops which sank in showers. 
 Soon wintrv frost. 
 
LINES. 121 
 
 With biting tongue will nip the flowers, 
 Their beauty lost. 
 
 Thus hearts awaken at a sigh 
 
 To thrills of love, 
 And by that glance are doomed to die, 
 
 In which they throve ! 
 
 Where, where on earth, poor fleeting one. 
 
 Can longing find — 
 Or lingers there beneath yon sun — 
 
 A steadfast mind ? 
 
 Say — is love's ecstasy a balm, 
 
 And to be given 
 That heart alone, which spirit-calm 
 
 Unfolds in heaven ? 
 
 Alas ! that God's discerning lot 
 Should call so few, 
 11* 
 
122 POEMS. 
 
 And myriad souls should die for what 
 They never knew ! 
 
 My heart, clasp thou the Infinite ! 
 
 Thy treasure find 
 Thro' approbation in his sight — 
 
 The purest kind ! 
 
 Earth's jewels flash the gaudy ray, 
 
 An hour's joy ; 
 The diamond's lustre wells from clay, 
 
 A base alloy. 
 
 Seek thou for truths immutable 
 As God's own throne ; 
 
 Feel thou that joys of spirit well 
 From God alone. 
 
TO LILI DURING HER ABSENCE. 123 
 
 TO LILI DURING HER ABSENCE. 
 
 The beautiful, tliey pine for tliee 
 
 When thou art far away, 
 They yearn to bask in thy sweet smile. 
 
 They whisper, " dinna stay !" 
 
 The flowerets — the rivulets — 
 The glades and sunny meads, 
 
 Are languishing for thy sweet smile — 
 The passion flower bleeds. 
 
 The stars in silence guard the night 
 And mark each fleeting hour. 
 
 The sun reels darkling on his flight — 
 The threatening dun clouds lower. 
 
 Each heart which loves the beautiful, 
 Now thou art far away. 
 
124 POEMS. 
 
 Shall throb in holy unison — 
 " Ah, Lili ! dinna stay !" 
 
 Ah ! could'st thou hear the earnest prayer 
 All Nature breathes for thee, 
 
 A joyous tear — a maiden's tear 
 Would tremble in thine e'e, 
 
 'Twould wound thy tender soul to think 
 
 That thou wast far away ; 
 Thou would 'st not have it in thine heart. 
 
 To make a longer stay. 
 
 There is a heart — a poor lone heart — 
 It bleeds each lengthened day, 
 
 'Tis lost within the beautiful — 
 It whispers, " dinna stay !" 
 
 It looks to thee— it beats for thee, 
 Thou measurest every stroke. 
 
TO LILI DURING HER ABSENCE. 125 
 
 Thou art its pulse, and shall be so 
 Until each chord be broke. 
 
 Thou art its dream — its heaven-born dream ; 
 
 Thou art its every sigh ; 
 Thou art the spirit of the thrill 
 
 When none save God is nigh. 
 
 Thou art the fervor of its power ; 
 
 Thou art its quiet calm; 
 Thou art the tumult of its throes ; 
 
 Thou art its holiest balm : 
 
 And still it mourns, and still it sighs 
 
 That thou art far away; 
 Each warm pulse notes the fleeting hour 
 
 And whispers, " dinna stay!" 
 
 The beautiful, they yearn for thee ; 
 They pine to view thy grace ; 
 
126 POEMS. 
 
 They're languishing for thy sweet smile — 
 They long to see thy face : 
 
 And thus they swell the saddening plaint, 
 
 " Ah, Lili, dinna stay ! 
 The true — the pure — they canna thrive 
 
 When thou art far away !" 
 
LINES TO MISS S. W. 12i 
 
 LINES TO MISS S. W- 
 
 CouLD gentle thoughts, and modest worth, 
 
 Win crowns and diadems of earth. 
 
 The fairest and the most serene 
 
 Should bind thy brow, mild Nature's Queen. 
 
 In haughty state, let Fashion wear 
 Rich clustering jewels in her hair, 
 No mine of Ind could e'er impart 
 A joy like to thy joy of heart. 
 
 As when the silvery cloud at ev'n 
 Is rather to be felt than seen, 
 So lost within the amber sky 
 That either claims the brilliancy; 
 
128 POEMS. 
 
 The thrills which thou awak'st in me, 
 Tho' warm with life, are lost in thee, 
 Till each dear rapture makes me feel 
 How every dream I have, I steal! 
 
THE LITTLE CLOUD. 129 
 
 THE LITTLE CLOUD. 
 
 'Tis twilight's quiet, and the far oif sky 
 
 Is softly pencilled of amber hue, 
 
 As tho' an artist had employed his skill 
 
 In shade and sunlight thro' refraction's 
 
 power ; 
 Proving that Nature needeth not the shroud 
 Of darkness edged with gold, in the black 
 
 woof 
 Which ofttimes veils the smiling face of 
 
 heaven — 
 Thinking to add new grandeur to a scene 
 Eesplendent with mild graduated shades 
 Of high wrought coloring, and well thrown 
 
 light ! 
 
 Let the eye glance in strictest scrutiny 
 From west to north, and thence unto the east 
 
 12 
 
130 POEMS. 
 
 Until it sweep the whole horizon's rim, 
 And rests its wearied ray, where in the south 
 A silver clasp weds joyous Earth to Heaven, 
 And not a single covert can be found, 
 Wherein the bright idea, speaking to man 
 In colors tremulous, and deathless tints. 
 From every quarter of the firmament, 
 Could well conceal its radiance from the o;aze. 
 
 And yet, behold ! Tliere is a little cloud, — 
 Not larger than a hand, — of crescent shape, — 
 With edges wavy and irregular, 
 Of which the body is so shadowy 
 That the bold eye can pierce midway the veil 
 Which robs it of a single span of blue ! 
 It seems as tho' God's providence directs 
 Its every motion through the azure vault. 
 So slowly floats it, that the doubt might rise 
 Whether it move at all, save that the thought 
 Of Nature's ministry in use of things — 
 
THE LITTLE CLOUD. 131 
 
 Prime law, immutable, ordained of God — 
 Gives life and action to minutest forms. 
 
 Reclined beside a stream of musical voice, 
 Carving a loved one's name upon tlie bark 
 Of the sad cypress tree — as tho' that name 
 Were wed to sadness, and a spirit, warmed 
 With deepest fervor, and wild rhapsody 
 Of love unchangeable that outlives life — 
 Entwined within the free strings of the heart — 
 Whose lyre is swept alone of passion's hand — 
 Most like en woven harmony of verse, 
 And Music's deeper soul of untaught strains— • 
 And lost in musing on this very point 
 Of God's eternal providence, displayed 
 In agency and use of Nature's power 
 Innate, and self-applied, I often glance 
 Upward with calm delight, to note the change 
 That, shadowlike, steals o'er the face of 
 things — 
 
132 POEMS. 
 
 A spirit-veil — enhancing loveliness 
 Thro' the mild softening of sky-scenery. 
 
 But see ! the sky alone receives not all 
 The mild reflection; for the little cloud 
 Which heretofore seemed uselessly to rob 
 The roving vision of its form of blue, 
 Receives one trembling ray upon its breast, 
 Softening, and softening thro' diffusive power, 
 Until it greets the glad eye with a smile 
 Like to the waving amber-shafted wheat 
 Ripe unto the sickle, when that a storm 
 Bathes the warm brow of Earth, in passing 
 
 showers 
 Of cooling rain, and sunlight plays between. 
 Wild gambols with the streams, and woods, 
 
 and flowers ! 
 Already, as tho' conscious of the power 
 Of adding grace, and elegance, and ease, 
 To Nature's mild repose from weariness — 
 
THE LITTLE CLOUD. 133 
 
 Now that the mantling shades invite to rest — 
 It grows in beauty like a flower in bloom ! 
 The little cloud has changed into the moon, 
 And that which hid a single span of blue, 
 Now lights, irradiates, and chastens all ! 
 
 Hail ! Queen of Night ! and mistress of my 
 
 heart ! 
 Thy smile is like the ray of inward peace 
 Lighting the deep recesses of a soul 
 Lost far within the beautiful — and God ! 
 
 12* 
 
134 POEMS. 
 
 LINES TO MISS G. C- 
 
 YouTH weaves a crown for later years, 
 Of glowing hopes, and pallid fears. 
 
 Then pines to see 
 The opening blush of many a flower. 
 Which closed, awaits the full-blown hour 
 
 To burst it free. 
 
 Alas ! tho' many bloom full fair, 
 Yielding sweet incense to the air, 
 
 Some few I ween 
 Are paled by stern reality — 
 The sorrows of humanity 
 
 Too often seen. 
 
 The crown thus varied, binds the brow 
 Of all who know or love us now ; 
 'Tis but too true 
 
LINES TO MISS G. C. 135 
 
 Fond Hope can never bloom alone ! 
 Pale — marble-pale — as carved from stone 
 Springs Sorrow too ! 
 
 Twin sisters dear ! I would not part 
 That sisterhood, or ease the heart 
 
 Of one sad care ; 
 This, bids Earth's brightest colors shine ! 
 That, whispers softly, " Heaven is thine — 
 
 Hence ! dark Despair !" 
 
 Oh, may thy youthful spirit weave 
 
 A crown, whose radiance mild may leave 
 
 No shade behind — 
 Chaplet of innocence and worth, 
 The rainbow clasp of Heaven and Earth — 
 
 A tranquil mind ! 
 
136 roEMS. 
 
 SONNETS TO CONSTANCE. 
 
 I. 
 
 For three long weeks I've pined to see thee, 
 
 Constance ! * 
 Now that fond hope must yield unto despair, 
 I have bethought me of my God and prayer. 
 And penned these lines, alas ! a vain remon- 
 strance ! 
 What pleasure canst thou find in such a dance 
 As thou hast led me ? Lovers and loved ones 
 
 stare 
 Wonderingly on thee ! First, thy beauty rare 
 Eivets each joy-sick sense, turning the glance 
 Of thousands upon one : which thou repayest 
 By all the myriad pretty things thou sayest 
 With every speaking feature ! Then they ask 
 Inquiringly about thee, and a heart 
 
SONNETS TO CONSTANCE. 13" 
 
 As yet unmoved save by the forms of Art, 
 iVnd who aspire within thy smile to basic ; 
 
 II. 
 
 Whilst I, forsaken of my own sweet hope, 
 Must 'minister the short-lived joy to such, 
 As seeing thee, already love too much ! 
 Feebly essaying with a god to cope, 
 Smitten with blindness, how they reel and 
 
 grope 
 Feeling for light ! And if perchance they 
 
 touch 
 One chord of sympathy or feeling in thee, 
 Awakening a rapture in that breast 
 Which heretofore lay slumbering, oh ! how 
 
 blest 
 The ecstasy which thrills them, henceforth 
 
 free ! 
 
138 POEMS. 
 
 But should thy gentler thought be veiled 
 
 from them — 
 And they may fail to read thy soul aright — 
 No soothing voice of Music, no fair dream 
 Of what might be, can heal the heart's sad 
 
 blight ! 
 
LINES. 139 
 
 LINES. 
 
 IN THE SPIRIT OF UNIVERSALISM. 
 
 When racked upon the bed of pain 
 
 Delirious thought would scan, 
 Visions, that ne'er might rise again. 
 
 Of life in Nature — man ; 
 No fear of dissolution fell 
 Upon the soul ; no dread of hell 
 
 Could blear those phantasies of mind ! 
 Where'er the active spirit soared, 
 Tho' lightnings flashed, and thunders roared, 
 
 'Twas peace for human kind ! 
 
 Thanks, glorious Being! for the them'b 
 
 Which thus engaged my song; 
 Great God ! and was it all a dream — 
 
 And is Thy teaching wrong ! 
 
140 POEMS. 
 
 Ye happy few who hold the truth 
 Impressed upon the soul in youth 
 
 By laughing meads of Earth and sky, 
 Go ! In your joy spread far and wide 
 That misery Soul shall ne'er betide, 
 
 Nor anguish wake her sigh ! 
 
 Fair Nature wields no threatening rod 
 
 About our lowly head ; 
 Each roseate blush — a prayer to God — 
 
 Still bids us love — not dread! 
 No pang attends the violet's death, 
 Into the air she yields her breath 
 
 The mildest effluence of the hour ; 
 And while these emblems prove his care 
 Embracing ocean, earth, and air. 
 
 Creation speaks his power ! 
 
 Great God ! how do I see and promise 
 Each wondrous act above ! 
 
LINES. 141 
 
 A Prince art Thou in all thy ways — 
 
 A fount of guileless love ! 
 Nor faithless I — but faithless they 
 Who would thy character bewray. 
 
 And stamp thy work an infamy ! — 
 These dastard hearts, which ceaseless break 
 Thy h\ws, shall of those mercies take 
 
 They would deny to me ! 
 
 i;j 
 
142 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 Fair Lili's heart's the tent of Love, 
 With threads of feeling interwove ; 
 
 Joy's laughing fountain wells within — 
 Oh ! who would not the curtains move ! 
 
 Steal gently — the rich damask draw — 
 And thus my hold assertion prove ! 
 
 How fortunate, whoe'er may view- 
 There pillowed, a rosy Love ! 
 
 Could others see what I have seen 
 
 Oh ! who Avould not my choice approve ! 
 
TO AMORET. 143 
 
 TO AMORET. 
 
 In burning verse, or learning's lore, 
 Could I but meet as mild a thought 
 As thy sweet smile from Nature caught, 
 
 'T would fill my heart — I'd need no more ! 
 
 But having once on Beauty gazed 
 The soul would loiter at her shrine; 
 Yet, now thy love may ne'er be mine 
 
 I must confess the siege is raised ! 
 
 Since prayer is wind, and useless sighs 
 But wake a tumult hard to bear, 
 I will no longer sit and stare, 
 
 Or drown my soul in thy deep eyes ! 
 
 I'll say I ne'er did love their light ; 
 Tho' I have pined the livelong day 
 
144 POEMS, 
 
 - To catch the shadow of a ray 
 
 Which round them ran its circlets bright ! 
 
 And when their sunlets flashed but scorn, 
 I've bowed my soul in humbleness, 
 "Which witnessed the heart's distress 
 
 That e'er such hapless wight were born! 
 
 But when in liquid tenderness 
 
 Their rays might pour a flood of grace — 
 E'en hallowing another's face — 
 
 Oh ! I could scarce my joy repress ! 
 
 My soul is like the swelling tide — 
 The heavy— restless — surging sea ; 
 The moon's full glories like to thee, 
 
 Which peacefully its billows ride ! 
 
 I toss with longings like the sea ; 
 But never may the surges rise 
 To wed that glory of the skies — 
 
 So I may never wed with thee ! 
 
THE DEAD. 145 
 
 THE DEAD. 
 
 Sweet is thy liquid voice, bell, 
 To the dead ! 
 
 Soothing the air on whose pinions it floats 
 Far, far away, — 
 Thro' the realms of day, — 
 
 As the sunbeam dances, jeweled with motes ; 
 
 Sweetest and wildest of melodies 
 
 To the dead ! To the dead ! 
 
 And fair thy flower-wreathed brow, Earth ! 
 
 To the dead ! 
 Low hushed is the pulse to list to the toll 
 
 Of spirit-bells. 
 
 With whose laughter, wells 
 Mild Mu.sic's earnest and tearful soul ; 
 
146 POEMS. 
 
 Waking her harmonies morning and eve, 
 For the dead ! For the dead ! 
 
 Deepest and purest of Earth, is the dream 
 
 Of the dead ! 
 O'er life's dull languor it floats like a crown 
 
 Star-'cintured, and gleaming 
 
 AVitli radiance; seeming 
 To sink with the shadowy air, gliding down 
 From regions of spirit, an angel-crown 
 From the dead ! From the dead ! 
 
LINES. 147 
 
 LINES 
 
 COMPOSED AFTER AN ILLNESS. 
 
 Into the world unknown, 
 
 By mad delirium thrown 
 'Mid changing states, and loftier flights of 
 brain, 
 
 Entranced, how Being reeled! 
 
 Life's conscious fount unsealed, 
 Kenewed in mind the fear of deepening pain : 
 Then — not till then — could Truth assert her 
 
 sway 
 O'er dreaming Will, which slept from day to 
 V day ! 
 
 Intensity of thought 
 A drearier sense has wrought 
 Of hourly anguish traced in lines of care ; 
 
148 POEMS. 
 
 Life is not all a dream, 
 As sluggish spirits deem, 
 There's time for mirth — now death invites to 
 
 prayer : 
 My God ! restore pure childhood's trustful 
 
 love ; 
 Be Thou my guide where'er I erring rove ! 
 
 Can man renew the heart ? 
 
 Can sated sense impart 
 Beauties primeval — ^joys of pristine source ? 
 
 Thou, Saviour mild, alone, 
 
 From sympathetic throne 
 Canst re-create — derive a gain from loss; 
 Inspire the trembling hope of pardoning grace ; 
 The heart that loves, shall see Thee face to 
 face ! 
 
 Can hypocritic cant 
 Supply a spii'it-want ? — 
 
LINES. 149 
 
 Low in Earth's pageant let us bow the knee ! — 
 What ! what if reason fail 
 Whilst fiendish hosts prevail ? 
 
 Let Will regenerate climb the heights to Thee ! 
 
 Pressed heart to heart, Earth's favored sons 
 repose, 
 
 Reclaimed from sin, protected from their foes ! 
 
 How can a soul unsaved, 
 
 'Mid myriad hosts enslaved. 
 Gain pure delights— ecstatic thrills of heaven ? 
 
 A panacea yield 
 
 For such as keep the field. 
 May angels whisper — ''hark, their sin's for- 
 given ! ' ' 
 Immortals ! never weary of the strife ! 
 To fail — is death ! To win — eternal life ! 
 
150 POEMS. 
 
 LINES. 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO OUR HOUSE OF 
 REPRESENTATIVES. 
 
 Ye gods ! To tliink that Jove allows such 
 strife 
 
 Of hearts and tongues, to mar poor human 
 life! 
 
 Such combinations of pretence and power; 
 
 Such threatening clouds of nothingness to 
 lower ! 
 
 Was gift of gab but given us of God 
 
 To prove that men, as well as logs, are bored? 
 
 When monarchs tremble for their wide do- 
 mains, 
 
 And civil broils enhance war's grievous pains ; 
 
 When rival squadrons flout the oppressed sea 
 
 With flying streamers and artillery, 
 
LINES. 161 
 
 And safety hangs upon the sure command 
 Of those empowered to bid them flee, or stand ; 
 Then, little instrument, thy voice is heard. 
 For pending interests hang upon a word : 
 Then God commands thee speak, for weal or 
 
 woe ; — 
 But this — is waginu; war without a foe ! 
 
 't3^ 
 
 Tell, mighty wag! Say, rattling clap-trap, 
 
 say! 
 What guides thy pendulum's mysterious 
 
 sway ? 
 Why works one word an hundred thousand 
 
 fold 
 More than ten times the number useless 
 
 rolled ? 
 The cause alone gives weight unto the wind— 
 For words are nothing more than puffs of 
 
 mind ! 
 
152 poi'iMs. 
 
 Come ! !Sit and listen to this wild debate 
 Of mingled nonsense — charity ? — and hate ! — 
 How the eye sparkles when some dodge is 
 
 found 
 To gain the floor, and pour the useless sound; 
 See the fat hand extended towards the roof — 
 As tho' dumb Nature was not nonsense proof : — 
 Whilst every eye is strained, and every ear, 
 To catch the sentiment they like or fear; 
 How men are swayed as tho' by clock-work's 
 
 power 
 Be thy revealment, thou future hour ! 
 What ranting — tearing, of l)oth mind and 
 
 head — 
 Such wholesale butchery of whate'er was said 
 Ere that the learned member gained the 
 
 floor, 
 Was never seen or ever heard before ! 
 What sharp presentiment of coming strife — 
 
LINES. 153 
 
 Of principles already formed, and rife 
 Within the magic-weaving, muddling brain 
 
 Of Mr. , who, getting floor again, 
 
 Will perchance argue points just so, and so, — 
 Amend the motion by a well aimed blow 
 Of policy farsighted — straight aware 
 That such a dodge will make opponents stare : 
 Great Jove ! What would the heavenly coun- 
 cils say, 
 To hear, de facto, such men dare to pray ! 
 And yet they beat and bang at heaven's door, 
 E'en whilst misusing, praying hard for more ! 
 Oh ! may they, Twist-like, stretch the empty 
 
 bowl. 
 Poor, brainless pates, mean starvelings of 
 soul ! 
 
 14 
 
154 POEMS. 
 
 TO MISS N. S. 
 
 I KNEW a timid child, 
 
 A gentle, winning maiden ; 
 No dreams her heart beguiled, 
 
 Save such as sweetly laden 
 With perfumes of the Heaven and Earth, 
 Were symbols of her beauteous birth ! 
 
 Where'er the wild Winds bend 
 
 The crimson-tipp6d flowers, 
 Thither her lone steps tend 
 
 To while away the hours ; 
 
 The beauties of her mind expand 
 
 With every blush that paints the land ! 
 
 The glories which surround 
 
 Her form, are varied beauties; 
 An union here is found. 
 
TO MISS N. S. 155 
 
 Of pleasing traits and duties — 
 Deep sympathies with human kind, 
 Of heart and hand, of soul and mind! 
 
 Light, shadow-like, attends 
 
 Her steps where'er they wander; 
 
 The star of evening bends 
 Her loveliness to ponder, 
 
 Hoping at some far distant day 
 
 Its orl) may yield as mild a ray ! 
 
156 POEMS. 
 
 THE DEATH BED. 
 
 A young man being desperately ill, and acquainted 
 with his near dissolution, requested a young lady to be 
 sent for; they were friends, nothing more. On the ap- 
 proach of death, he asked her to kiss him, with which 
 request the lovely young girl complied. The following 
 lines are respectfully dedicated to one in every way an 
 honor to her sex. 
 
 Blessed be the heart, 
 
 A¥hich forth from out its urn of feeling, poured 
 
 A bright and genial flood 
 
 To cool that fevered brow ! 
 
 Cheering the gloom, 
 
 Gathering in darkness o'er a wintry sky. 
 When nameless dread drew nigh — 
 An angel-form she stood ! 
 
THE DEATH BED. lo7 
 
 When from thin li[)S, 
 
 Pallid, and bloodless as the sifted snow, 
 
 The soul's wild longings flow, 
 
 They plead — nor plead in vain ! 
 
 Those earnest orljs 
 
 Soon to be closed in an eternal night, 
 
 Tho' paling now their light, 
 
 A faint thanksgiving yield ! 
 
 The poet's theme ! 
 
 May she survive to grace the willing song, 
 Its warmest sigh prolong. 
 Heart-burdened with her praise ! 
 
 14* 
 
158 POEMS. 
 
 NATURE'S VOICE. 
 
 How musical the voice that wakes the dells 
 At early morn, ere that the merry hounds, 
 And jocund train which wait Aurora's blush, 
 Bouse slumbering Echo from her placid rest. 
 And envious sun-beams ramble thro' the 
 
 meads. 
 Sipping the pendent orbs of purest light 
 All trembling with love-zeal — courting the 
 
 glance 
 Which drains them of their beauty, and their 
 
 Being ! 
 'Tis hard to think it of a world so vast, 
 Yet truth still calls for truth ; the great round 
 
 Sun — 
 The eye of God — most beautifully bright, 
 Which meets no rival in his lordly path 
 
nature's voice. 159 
 
 And drinks the timid starlight at a draught — 
 Which, all the livelong night, with silvery 
 
 veil 
 Woven of fairy sprites on Nature's loom. 
 Conceals betrothed Earth from lawless gaze — 
 Is moved to jealousy by drops of light 
 That grace and bathe her brow : lest her fond 
 
 heart 
 That ever loved the fair and beautiful, 
 Be won of delicacy more than power 1 
 
 Let envy cease ! Cease vain solicitude ! 
 She prides her that her heart of hearts is 
 
 thine ; 
 And, lest she lose thy soul-inspiring glance, 
 She throws aside the drapery of the hour 
 With which she tawdily bedecked herself. 
 To while away the " lazy -pacing" points 
 Called seconds in the reckonina; of time, 
 
160 POEMS. 
 
 Which go to join th' immeasurable past, 
 And herald thy return ! It is her wish 
 To meet thee, robed in pure simplicity. 
 Winning thee to herself thro' natural charms, 
 Such as first won thy mild approving gaze 
 When the great God bequeathed her to thy 
 
 care, 
 And bade thee cherish her, till Death and Woe 
 Should swallow up all forms which dream of 
 
 life, 
 And Chaos once again ascend his throne 
 Of ebon darkness, 'mid the crash of sphere 
 Hurled against sphere, reeling to accomplish 
 A direful fate and final destiny. 
 Thou wouldst not rob her of the modest 
 
 flowers 
 For them thou gavest her ; and as thy gift 
 She prizes them beyond the crystal dew 
 That she dispenses with at thy approach ; 
 
nature's voice. IGl 
 
 And when thou comest thro' the eastern gate, 
 She welcomes thee in silence, and with smiles 
 That are reflections of thine own sweet gaze ! 
 The drowsy air, aroused from listlessness — 
 Her swift-soled messenger — she sends to thee, 
 Deep-laden with the perfume of the flowers 
 "Which cluster round her palpitating heart ! 
 And she would fain breathe forth a prayer to 
 
 thee, 
 Piercing the dark-ribbed clouds, which inter- 
 cept 
 The golden shower of thy laughing beams. 
 Were not her mild voice hushed in man's sad 
 fall ! 
 
 God, in creating, smiled upon his work. 
 And forthwith Earth possessed of conscious- 
 ness — 
 For in the smile of God dwells Life, whilst 
 Death 
 
162 POEMS. 
 
 Swift-pinioned, drops attendant on his frown — 
 Preferred a prayer to Him for reason high, 
 Wed to a voice well trained in utterance 
 Of burning thought, and spirit-ecstasies : 
 He, answering hope by its accomplishment, 
 Gave infant man unto her nursing arms, 
 And bade her train him in true utterance 
 Of mysteries ; thus she would be relieved 
 Of untold fires which waste her dreamy breast. 
 Him thus she would have reared, and oft she 
 
 strove 
 To win him to herself, swaying his heart 
 Thro' the eternal union of soft love 
 With whatsoe'er is beautiful to mind ; 
 Thus, by allurements, did she hope to 
 
 guide 
 His fickle intellect to sterner laws 
 Of Being absolute — dependent forms : 
 Striving to raise a question in his thoughts 
 Of how the creature springs to life and sense 
 
nature's voice. 103 
 
 From the mere fiat of creative Will. 
 But lie as oft took cognizance of sense, 
 O'erlooked the grandeur of eternal truths, 
 In mild reflections on the fires, which flare 
 Like lamps, beneath the wind-swept canopy 
 Of heaven's emblazoned roof; the moon — the 
 
 stars, 
 Entranced his eyes by night — his Soul by 
 
 day, 
 Lighting the world of mind with spirit-rays ! 
 
 Yea, often, too, when wandering thro' the 
 
 glades. 
 Young buds in coyness raised their lowly 
 
 heads, 
 Blushing in maiden modesty, to win 
 His manly gaze ; and then have drooped for 
 
 shame, 
 That tints as gentle and as mild as theirs 
 
164 roEMS. 
 
 Ne'er won remark, e'en in liis kindlier hours ! 
 Alas ! that it is so ! Had man but known 
 What eloquence there slumbered, unex- 
 pressed, 
 Dependent on his rhapsodies of mind 
 Fair Earth could well inspire, but not direct ; 
 His whole attention, concentrated where 
 The noblest principles can be evolved 
 By stern reflection, soon would have disclosed 
 The hidden glories of both mind and form ; 
 Such joyful symphony from thence had 
 
 sprung. 
 His foster mother ne'er had mourned a voice 
 As musical as that which guides the spheres, 
 Thro' all the mazes of the giddy dance 
 Sweeping the vast infinitude of space ! 
 
BALLAD. l().n 
 
 BALLAD. 
 
 With lily-white hand on her bosom of snow 
 To musical symphonies moving, as though 
 
 Soft playing the strings of her heart, 
 Sits Maggie ! Sky glitters above, whilst 
 
 below, 
 Earth, floating in charms that mellifluous flow 
 From sympathy's spring, hangs bathed in the 
 glow 
 Fair Nature alone may impart. 
 
 Her eye were too warm, save to mellow its 
 ray- 
 Like pencil of evening subduing the day — 
 The spirit that thrills in her breast, 
 Drains inward the stream of the light, which 
 denied 
 
 15 
 
166 POEMS. 
 
 The throng of her lovers, is poured in a tide 
 Of dazzling soul-beams, disarming the pride 
 Of strangers, and foes to her rest. 
 
 Ah ! many have drooped for a glance of her 
 eye; 
 
 And many, sore wounded, have left — with a 
 sigh — 
 Fair Maggie, when waking her heart : 
 
 That glance is to slay — that lily-white hand 
 
 None clasp save in friendship, for such her 
 command : 
 
 Tho' suitors have offered what few can with- 
 stand, 
 Love-baffled is love's every dart. 
 
 Far away ! Far away ! in the clime of the South 
 Where bright stars sprinkle rays on the gor- 
 geous Earth 
 And songs ever gladden the hour, 
 
BALLAD. 1G7 
 
 Roams the youtli of her choice : that youth, 
 
 who alone — 
 Far away tho' he be — can awaken the tone 
 Of affection, soft welling from lyre of stone, 
 As incense exhales from a flower. 
 
168 • roEMs. 
 
 TO THE EXILES OF ITALY. 
 
 Exiles from a bleeding land — 
 Welcome ! Welcome ! 
 Tho' no jostling crowds be nigh 
 When the bright keels kiss the strand, 
 Myriad-hosts should raise the cry : 
 "Welcome ! Welcome !" 
 Waving flags of liberty — 
 Shouting — " Hail the victor-l)and ! 
 Welcome ! Welcome !" 
 
 Have ye failed, ye steadfast few ? 
 Never ! Never ! 
 Ne'er a blow is struck in vain ! 
 Once our fathers bled like you ! 
 Life-drops rust oppression's chain 
 Ever ! Ever ! 
 
TO THE EXILES OF ITALY. 169 
 
 Gallant hearts will share your pain ! 
 Tyrants shall this welcome rue, 
 Ever ! Ever ! 
 
 God bless bleeding Italy 
 Ever ! Ever ! 
 When we grasp her fevered hand, 
 Nations ! hearken to her sigh ! 
 Noble souls! our homes command 
 Ever ! Ever ! 
 Can we an appeal withstand 
 In behalf of liberty ? 
 
 Never ! Never ! 
 
 15* 
 
1711 POEMS. 
 
 LINES ON UNFOETUNATE LOVE. 
 
 I loved too young ! 
 My eyes revealed my pain — 
 Alas ! alas ! in vain — 
 
 Before my tongue ! 
 
 Still shall they rove! 
 My heart by impulse swayed, 
 Ne'er, ne'er shall be allayed, 
 
 Save thro' sweet love ! 
 
 Deepens my thought ! 
 Confined within a breast 
 That knows no joy nor rest, 
 
 Tho' hourly sought ! 
 
 Could beauty ease, 
 Here are an hundred eyes 
 
LINES ON UNFORTUNATE LOVE. 171 
 
 That sprinkle love with sighs, 
 Whispering — '' Cease, 
 
 " Cease wandering free ! 
 Where spirit- waters gush, 
 There let weak'ning passion hush 
 
 Its boisterous sea !" 
 
 When laid in calm, 
 May Will her vigils keep 
 O'er demons, lulled to sleep 
 
 In slumber's balm! 
 
 Health's rosy glow 
 Upon a dimpled cheek — 
 Is 't this which thou dost seek 
 
 My soul ? Ah, no ! 
 
 A kindred heart ? 
 Yes! yes! I mark it well, 
 
172 POEMS 
 
 For thee, there is a hell 
 Deep-hewn, apart ! 
 
 Others can choose 
 A brighter, lovelier dream, 
 And in another's theme 
 
 Their sorrows lose ! 
 
 Sad is his fate, 
 Whom loving maids despise ! 
 Who wakens tears with sighs 
 
 To win Lut hate ! 
 
LINES ON GENIUS. 173 
 
 LINES ON GENIUS. 
 
 DEDICATED TO DR. C. J. 
 
 How thankful he should be, 
 
 Whoe'er hath chanced to see 
 A genius rear the god within his breast ; 
 
 Who viewed the raging fire 
 
 Of uncontrolled desire 
 To act high deeds, invade a spirit-rest ! 
 
 When by a great thought tossed, 
 
 All consciousness is lost 
 Of sun, and moon, and stars — of death and life, 
 
 Rapt fairy-realms of soul 
 
 His every sense control, 
 Till wearied Will again renews the strife ; 
 Who living, but would willingly give o'er 
 Hls fairest dream, and with that spirit soar! 
 
174 POEMS. 
 
 Spontaneous thrills of heart, 
 
 Serenest thoughts impart, 
 As sparkling crests ride waves of softest light; 
 
 Reason supreme attends, 
 
 And when commanded, bends. 
 Moulding to beauty, forms which blind the 
 sight.. 
 
 Thus from the realms of nought, 
 
 Mild shapes are hourly brought. 
 Whilst varied raptures fair, enchant the view ; 
 
 Mind riveted to mind. 
 
 Heart's greatest wealth shall find. 
 In probing Nature for the bright and true ! 
 May genius, as its works, for aye endure, 
 That man may cherish still, the chaste and 
 pure ! 
 
TO AMORET. 175 
 
 TO -AMORET. 
 
 Say, lovely maiden, say ! 
 
 Why flee the light ? 
 Mild charms should woo the day ; 
 
 Few are so bright : 
 Cupid, in golden chains, 
 Prays thee to ease his pains ! 
 
 Dost yet in freedom hold 
 
 Maidenly thought? 
 Fear, lest that over bold, 
 
 Thou mayest be brought — 
 Proud tho' thou be — so low 
 All may deride thy woe ! 
 
 Hearts lost and won on Earth, 
 
 Oft lose their power, 
 Waked to a noliler birth 
 
] 76 POEMS. 
 
 Love rules the hour; 
 Fear, lest unknown to thee 
 Thy heart may vanquished be ! 
 
 Shouldst thou refuse my prayer — 
 
 Still hear my sigh; 
 When hope dissolves in air 
 
 Sorrow is nigh ; 
 Oh! soothe the galling pain, 
 E'en whilst you forge the chain ! 
 
 Waft back the dreams of youth — 
 
 Recall the hour 
 Light sighs were wed to truth 
 
 Thro' Beauty's j^ower : 
 Then, weave in, fair and free, 
 Visions and dreams of thee ! 
 
 Thus tho' my heart may mourn 
 
 Laden with sorrow. 
 New dreams shall bid me turn 
 
TO AMORET. IJ\ 
 
 Hope to the morrow : 
 E'en pain will rapture prove, 
 When wed to those we love ! 
 
 16 
 
178 POEMS. 
 
 TO MIRIAM. 
 
 I KNOW thee, lovely Miriam, wliat thou art — 
 A cold, insensate form, without a heart ! 
 
 The moon-beam loves to nestle in thy hair; 
 The fainting Zephyrs whisper, thou art foir : — 
 
 Yet Earth is all too warm a home for thee : 
 Thou canst not feel the throbbing of the sea ! 
 
 The delicate tendrils, as they branching twine 
 Around the oak, suggest no love divine ! 
 
 The joyous smile which lights the fields of air, 
 Speaks not of God, nor whispers he is there ! 
 
 When thro' thy lattice, laughing Morn would 
 
 take 
 A peep at thee, and thy soft slumbers break ; 
 
TO MIRIAM. 179 
 
 Aurora blushes that she must behold 
 Such breathless beauty cast in icy mould ! 
 
 Oh ! learn to view the hand of God, endued 
 With matchless power to work thee harm or 
 good; 
 
 A power displayed in myriad worlds, up hung 
 In boundless space, fair on their centres 
 swung ; 
 
 A mind applied to form the insect's wing; 
 A hand that mingles odors of the Spring ! 
 
 And if thou wouldst a living joy impart, 
 Pray God to gift thee with a human heart : 
 
 Thus mayest thou learn, how love is holier still 
 Than heartless beauty, paining by its thrill ! 
 
180 POEMS. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO MY IMPULSE. 
 
 Wilt thou ne'er prove false to me 
 Heart-awakened melody ? 
 Tliro' the dim revolving years 
 Thickly strewn with hopes and fears, 
 Wilt thou still remain by me 
 Heart-awakened melody ? 
 
 Ah ! I feel, when youth is past. 
 And the brow is overcast. 
 Blackened with the blows of life 
 Driven in amid the strife, 
 Thou— with other friends — slialt ilee, 
 Heart-awakened melody ! 
 Yet, tho' then my soul shall bow, 
 I will glory in thee now ! 
 
 Tell me — if 'tis given to tell — 
 Whence pure springs of rapture well ? 
 
AN ADDRESS TO MY IMPULSE. 181 
 
 Mellows love in woman's voice, 
 
 Or the gentle, rustling noise 
 
 When the Zephyr longing breathes 
 
 Thro' myriad-hosts of leaves ! 
 
 Whisper of the purple West, 
 
 And the landscapes crowned with rest ! 
 
 Tell me — if 'tis given to tell 
 
 Whence pure springs of rapture well — 
 
 Why thou comest like a sigh 
 
 Forced to wander listlessly ? 
 
 Why thou dost to pleasure wake 
 
 Hearts thou leavest soon to break ? 
 
 Whether Love or Poesy 
 
 Is the name most dear to thee ! 
 
 I would know thee, what thou art. 
 
 For I feel thou rul'st my heart ! 
 
 Art thou Thought — or art thou Feelino;? 
 Art thou but a ray, revealing 
 
 16» 
 
1S2 POEMS, 
 
 Hidden jewels of the mind, 
 
 Thought without thee ne'er could find ? 
 
 Art thou Intuition's self? 
 Or a prank of that wild elf, 
 Whispering to ingenuous souls : 
 " Here the tide of treason rolls, 
 Hidden deep in dastard breast, 
 Which forever lost to rest. 
 Hates to view the sacred peace 
 Of another soul at ease !" 
 Tell me, for thou rul'st my heart — 
 I would know thee as thou art ? 
 
 Tho' thou wert a misery — 
 Tho' thou wert an open lie 
 Given to this end — deceiving 
 All who must go on believing, 
 Whilst thou pourest out thy sigh 
 On the spirit, seemingly 
 
AN ADDEESS TO MY IMPULSE. 183 
 
 Urging to a noble end; 
 Tho' I knew thee for a fiend — 
 Yet my spirit loves thee so 
 I'd thy every bidding do ! 
 
 Is the culture of the heart 
 Madness ? Dost thou e'er impart 
 Glories of the soul, to those 
 Who are idiots from repose ? 
 
 Tell me ! Is this restlessness 
 But the shadow of the bliss, 
 Spirit-calm, and rest of heaven, 
 To the sainted heroes given — 
 Such as, 'mid the battle's din, 
 Warred for God, and vanquished sin ? 
 
 Yet, and if thou answerest not 
 These, the questionings of heart, 
 May thy sweet tones v/hisper me 
 Thro' a love-eternitv ! 
 
184 roEMS. 
 
 AMBITION. 
 
 It is a sad, disheart'ning lot, 
 
 To feel that other minds can soar 
 
 To airy heights, which we dare not 
 Attempt to clamber o'er ! 
 
 That brethren and companions dear, 
 Tho' bound to us by social ties, 
 
 Will not by our suggestions steer 
 Their courses for the skies ! 
 
 Ambitious souls which feel the weight 
 Of glory every mind can bear, 
 
 Are even fain to underrate 
 The genius that they fear ! 
 
 When cured of envy's sting, the heart 
 Is guided of pure love again, 
 
 Time — time alone, will heal that smart 
 AVhich pierces every vein ! 
 
AMBITION. 185 
 
 Let eacli true man contentment find, 
 In that he bears an image bright, 
 
 Stamped lastingly wpon the mind, 
 And traced in living light ! 
 
 Great hearts are but weak tools within 
 The iron grasp of Nature's Lord, 
 
 And when reclaimed from pride and sin, 
 Yield praise alone to God ! 
 
 No honor claim they as their due; 
 
 No thought original; no way 
 Can they point out as sure and true. 
 
 To lead men to the day ! 
 
 Less honored souls should e'en rejoice 
 That God can sometimes use frail man- 
 
 A clarion to resound his voice — 
 And tell us all He can ! 
 
 ^ 
 
186 POEMS. 
 
 AMELIA. 
 
 A FRAGMENT, 
 
 The following lines are fragmentary — connected only 
 by the Author's private knowledge of plan, and future 
 development. Fearing lest his little book — from want 
 of patronage — ^may be the only one he will be enabled to 
 give to the world, he thinks it appropriate to publish in 
 this crude form that, which at some future date may 
 possibly take a more decided mould and character. 
 
 Fair is the smile of the Earth, for Morning 
 has sprinkled the sunshine 
 
 Veiled in the globules of rain that noiselessly 
 dripped from the heavens, 
 
 Far over meadow and lea, bathing the land- 
 scape in glory ! 
 
 Long white peninsular clouds lose their caj^es 
 in the still blue water 
 
 Arched far above — a measureless sea — an 
 ocean of laughter ! 
 
AMELIA. 1S7 
 
 Fair is the smile of the Earth, tho' Evening 
 
 had witnessed the gray mists 
 Cover the deep-souled sky as the foam hangs 
 
 over the billows, 
 Mingling shadowy forms — scattering the 
 
 spray of the snow-flakes 
 Meltine; for love of the first warm kiss Earth 
 
 gave them as greeting ! 
 Warm is the smile of the Earth, but milder 
 
 the glance of Amelia 
 Plays o'er the fair-haired boy she leads by 
 
 the hand to the cottage. 
 Softly uplifting the latch which fastened the 
 
 door of their dwelling, 
 As tho' afraid of disturbing the rest which 
 
 had fallen from heaven — 
 Slumber of peace — on the tremulous limbs 
 
 of her blind old father. 
 Gently they pass thro' the door — the boy and 
 
 the iTiaiden too*ether : 
 
1-88 POEMS. 
 
 Nearer and nearer tliey glide towards the 
 
 chair with the tread of a shadow, 
 Kissing the floor of the room — their feet — 
 
 with as noiseless a blessing. 
 Wed to the sorrows of age, the music of 
 
 youth's deathless longings 
 'Wilders the old man's brain, — as the wind 
 
 sweeps over the wind harp 
 Swung midway from a branch of a tree 'twixt 
 
 Earth and the Heavens — 
 Mingling sighs for the past, with the sadden- 
 ing tones of the present. 
 They, seated near him in love, mark with 
 
 pleasure the smile of the Spirit 
 Smoothing the wrinkles of age, lightening the 
 
 sternness of nature : 
 When, as a new-born joy, it wanders, they 
 
 whisper " he slumbers; 
 Dreams of the dear old times — the dreams of 
 
 his earliest childhood 
 
amj:lia. 189 
 
 Come once again — an earnest of peace— a 
 
 balm for his sorrow, 
 Lifting the weight of his years, off from the 
 
 spirit of Malthas !" 
 Dreams of the dear old times — now he follows 
 
 the bend of the river 
 Winding its devious course thro' the meadow 
 
 once owned of his father, 
 Skirted with copse — a thick undergrowth of 
 
 hazel and dogwood ; 
 Listlessly wandering on, musing of Life and 
 
 the Spirit, 
 Losing his Soul in a thought so deep it swal- 
 lows his Being ! 
 Mindless of Earth and the sky, with the 
 
 rippling flow of the waters — 
 Mindless of mother and home, of sister, 
 
 brother, and father- 
 Winged of its joy, his Spirit has flown to the 
 
 regions of dreamland ! 
 17 
 
190 POEMS. 
 
 There, of the gorgeous clouds, it rears a 
 
 temple of glory- 
 Piercing the dark blue vault : glisten the 
 
 myriad spires 
 Pale as the liorht of the moon, chano-ino; from 
 
 amber to silver, 
 Shifting their dazzling hues like the glittering 
 
 mass of the iceberg 
 Jewelled with stars, imprisoned within that 
 
 casket of crystal, 
 Flashing the pale white light of its radiance 
 
 over the Ocean ! 
 
 Sad would it be for the Earth were the visions 
 of longing eternal ; 
 
 Closed were her eyes to the measure of time, 
 the glories of action. 
 
 Soothed by the languishing tones ever whis- 
 pering rest to the weary, — 
 
AMELIA. 191 
 
 Lulled by tlic soft laugliiug flow of raptures, 
 
 deliciously welling 
 Free from the springs of tlie heart, weaving 
 
 harmonious numbers, 
 Winging their way to the regions above, a 
 
 choir of languor. 
 Up thro' the chasms of night, burdening air 
 
 with their sweetness, — 
 Closed were the ears of the Soul, to the loftier 
 
 aims of her Being ! 
 
 Just as a bird of the morn, when aroused by 
 the blush of Aurora 
 
 Springs from the grass on aerial wings, beat- 
 ing music to nature. 
 
 Stemming the currents of air, and rising 
 hicchcr and hio;her 
 
 Borne far aloft by the wandering gusts which 
 buffet his pinions ; 
 
192 POEMS. 
 
 Drinking the colorless light of the morning, 
 
 and steadfastly gazing 
 Being away, with love for his mate, and her 
 
 delicate plumage ; — 
 Yet, in his 'wildering course, a sense of his 
 
 love, and her nurslings, 
 Steals like a vision of future into a bosom of 
 
 longing — 
 Suddenly wheeling about, he beholds the 
 
 stream, and the green sward. 
 This, a mirror of sky reflecting the brighten- 
 ing azure. 
 That, an emerald mould, and glistening fresh 
 
 with the dew drops, 
 Laved with the same fair light he sought in 
 
 the regions of cloudland : 
 Swift as a glance of the Sun, he drops from 
 
 the sky to the meadow — 
 Thus, from the castles of air, falls to Earth 
 
 the musimj-s of Malthus ! 
 
AMELIA. 193 
 
 Turning his pale wan cheek to the stream of 
 the light, which, denied him, 
 
 Floated a gauze-like veil o'er the shadowy- 
 Earth and the Heavens, 
 
 Sweeping the land and the Sea with its deep- 
 ening fringe as of amber, 
 
 Trailed by the ministering cloud thro' the 
 dust of the ground, and the white mists, 
 
 Malthus awakes to the sense of his love, and 
 the hope of his blindness ! 
 
 Wakening thrills of delight in the breast of 
 
 the youth and the maiden, 
 Softy he calls to the boy and the girl with 
 
 the voice of affection : 
 " Come to the knees of my age, and ponder 
 
 the words of your father ; 
 Maltlius, the lilind old man, lias somotliing of 
 
 interest to tell you : 
 
194 roEMS. 
 
 Fly to the arms of my age, for I feel you are 
 
 near to my lieart's love, — 
 Ye ! ye ! alone remain to these arms from the 
 
 forms they have cherished — 
 Mother and father, with sister and wife — all ! 
 
 all ! They have left me — 
 Snatched from the loving embrace, and chilled 
 
 by the breath of the death-fiend ! 
 Daughter — with speed, — in the blush of your 
 
 youth — I long to encircle 
 Charms which shall draw forth the sigh from 
 
 the languishing breasts of the young 
 
 men, 
 Youths all alive to the beauties of form in the 
 
 future of Being, 
 Warmed by the glance of an eye, and thrilled 
 
 by the echoing soft laugh. 
 Magical, musical — breathing of treasures re- 
 served for the loved ones, 
 
AMELIA. 195 
 
 Guarded with care by the critical eye of the 
 cynical mother ! 
 
 Such were the years in the past, and I doubt 
 
 not such is the future ! 
 Each age is but to show that the world, with 
 
 its forms, shall continue ; 
 Earth has her robe— the ocean his tides — the 
 
 heart its emotions, 
 Shifting and surging, and falling perchance, 
 
 but in melody turning 
 Back to the same old phase that delighted 
 
 the hearts of the Fathers ! 
 
 Soft is the glance of the Sky to a heart in the 
 
 morning of Being, 
 Fresh from the hands of the Lord, wakening 
 
 hopes for the future — 
 Mellow the hum of insect-wing in the trcrnblo 
 
 of motion — 
 
196 POEMS. 
 
 Golden the haze of the dust, deep-tinged with 
 
 the pencil of sunlight ; 
 Yet, in the end, 'tis the will of the Lord — an 
 
 end never failing. 
 Time drags heavily on, till the hope of the 
 
 future, accomplished. 
 Dies on the heart of the man, as the leaf on 
 
 the heart of the forest ! 
 
 As they return from the burial ground, the 
 
 home of the friendless. 
 See the clouds break up like the mass of ice 
 
 that covers a river, 
 Floating in huge-hewn blocks, whilst the still 
 
 water darkens between them. 
 Far thro' their cavernous depths behold you 
 
 the long lost Ether ! 
 Is it the eye of the Lord which brightens and 
 
 gladdens the landscape ? 
 
AMELIA. 197 
 
 Circles of blue look down with the })assionless 
 love-gaze of childhood ! 
 
 Far over meadow and lea the swift-flitting 
 
 shadows are playing, 
 Dancing a shadowy-dance — chasing the sun- 
 
 liojlit before them. 
 Now the Sun marshals his rays behind the 
 
 dark thunder-cloud, loomins; 
 Black w^ith impetuous fate, portending tem- 
 
 j^sstuous ruin : 
 Ever and anon from behind, peep the glitter- 
 ing points of the spear-heads — 
 Level their shafts — like the glance of an eye 
 
 they haste to the Ijattle ! 
 Heaven's artillery thunders its rage in the 
 
 crash o'er the mountains ! 
 God hurleth his spear in the lightning-dart 
 
 that rendeth the pine trees, 
 
198 POEMS. 
 
 Whilst that from chasm and peak, wild with 
 fright, leap the heart-quelling echoes ! 
 
 Sigheth the Wind of the West, in languish- 
 ing numbers and accents : 
 
 " I must away, to shepherd the clouds thro' 
 the infinite void !" 
 
 Like a heart-sigh, it wasteth its life in the 
 useless endeavor 
 
 By one fell swoop, to sweep from the sky its 
 burden of sorrow ! 
 
 Tho' they move, the dark clouds, tlio' they 
 lessen and lessen, and fade in the dis- 
 tance — 
 
 Tho' they curl and divide, and in airy shapes 
 lighten the landscape — 
 
 The boundless horizon still fleeth and fleetli 
 before them ; 
 
AMELIA. 190 
 
 Thus the heart, tho' relieved, still nurseth its 
 burden of anguish ! 
 
 " Surely her face is divine, for a spirit-sweet- 
 ness descending 
 
 Swift from the musical spheres, in its joy has 
 fallen upon her. 
 
 Gladdening Earth with an angel-smile — a 
 power of beauty 
 
 "Winning the soul unto wisdom, and moving 
 the hearts of beholders ! 
 
 See where she gracefully glides, the perfect 
 mould of a woman. 
 
 Maidenly veiling her face — fearing the sun- 
 light should kiss her ! 
 
 Panting for bliss, the Wind of the West, 
 with the hand of a lover 
 
 Gently uptossed the deep-craped veil, disclos- 
 ino- the features 
 
200 POEMS. 
 
 Homer had sung, as they shone revealed in 
 
 the light of his blindness ! 
 For, when Nature is haze, and eyes formed 
 
 of clay gather blackness, 
 So that the Sun is an orb of gloom, and the 
 
 tides of the sunbeams 
 Play o'er the motionless balls upraised to their 
 
 shower of darkness, 
 Light wells free from the Soul, like a golden 
 
 mist, which, dispersing. 
 Gladdens the view with emeral'd meads, and 
 
 vistas of azure 
 Blending their various tints, to form a glori- 
 ous union. 
 Milder by far than the natural eye in its 
 
 vision hath bounded ! 
 Such are the landscapes of mind, and such 
 
 the raptures eternal, — 
 These are the forms Maeonides saw in peo- 
 pling Elysium !" 
 
AMELIA. 201 
 
 Thus sang tho youtli in his heart, and these 
 
 are the words which he uttered, 
 Praising the grace of Amelia, and blessing 
 
 the turf which she trod on, 
 Whispering low to his friend, " vera incessu 
 
 patuit dea," — • 
 Venus herself, the praise of the gods, the 
 
 spouse of Hephaistos, 
 Wandering free in the groves, and suddenly 
 
 chancing upon her, 
 Paused in the walk, in wonder to gaze on the 
 
 grace of the maiden, — 
 Staying the step which awakens a thrill in the 
 
 souls of Immortals ! 
 
 Is it the Air that is whispering thus, on the 
 
 heart of the waters 
 Sighing, and laughing, and sighing again, as 
 
 they wander forever 
 
 18 
 
202 POEMS. 
 
 Homeless, companionless, rolling in melody 
 
 over the smooth stones — 
 Such as that shepherd of old had chosen to 
 
 fight witih Goliath — 
 Never to rest, ever losing their stream in the 
 
 gorge of the mountains : 
 Now reappearing again, and shaping its flight, 
 
 for the Ocean, 
 Eager, insatiate, longing to swallow Earth, 
 
 Air, and the Heavens ; — 
 Winging its way like a great white bird thro' 
 
 the mists of the forest ! 
 
 Is it the voice of the Wind, or the pulse of the 
 
 sparkling streamlet 
 Throbbing in sympathy wild to the call of the 
 
 Sea in the distance, 
 Murmuring — "Lo, I come!" Singing, "Soon 
 
 and T shall ho with you." 
 
AMELIA. 203 
 
 Lost ill your trotli-c;i])})ed waves, or spread 
 as the foam on the lona; strand. 
 
 Or as the wind-tossed spray, showering light 
 on the head of the sailor, 
 
 Crowning the slave of his own wild thought 
 with the jewels of fi-eedom ] 
 
204 roEMs., 
 
 SPEING. 
 
 In the Spring ! In the Spring ! 
 
 Earth blushing, renewed, 
 
 In her glories renewed, 
 
 Caresses her flowers ! 
 
 They drooped 'neath the rage 
 
 Of the pitiless Ijlast ; 
 
 But the voice of the Wind, 
 
 Of the low summer Wind 
 
 In melody sighing: 
 
 " Awake .'"—Whilst the Hours, 
 
 Bedecking the bowers, 
 
 Responded in soft winning accents : 
 
 " Awake ! Loved of Heaven, awake ! 
 
 Eemember the past," — 
 
 Has raised Winter's siege ! 
 
SPUING. 2(J5 
 
 In the Spring ! In tlio Spring ! 
 
 Light thoughts sparkle up, 
 
 Leap up, — bubble up 
 
 From the wells of the heart I 
 
 They hang in their lightness 
 
 O'er the glass of the stream ; 
 
 In their rising and falling, 
 
 Wakened Memories are calling 
 
 To Memories dead — • 
 
 " Awake joys of heart ! 
 
 To rha|)sody start ! 
 
 Earth and Heaven are whispering ever : 
 
 Awake ! Sleep no more !" 
 
 Then melt as a dream 
 
 That is veiled of its In'io'htness ! 
 
 18' 
 
•200 roEMS. 
 
 ONE'S OWN DAYDREAM. 
 
 In the wanderings of Spirit 
 Isles of beauty, undiscovered 
 Heretofore by kindred natures, 
 Greet the eye : 
 
 Clad in robe of waving velvet, 
 'Chased with violets and roses, 
 How such tenderilesses make us 
 Heave the sigh ! 
 
 Other dream may be for other. 
 Fair and beautiful as ours — 
 Sunny lake, and laughing shower ; 
 
 AVaves of light 
 Oft in silence lave the long strand 
 Pvuby-red with rolling jewels. 
 
one'8 own daydream. 207 
 
 Flashing as the giddy moon-heani 
 Reels thro' night ! 
 
 Other dream may be for other, — 
 Dream as beautiful as ours — 
 Losing rhapsody in langour 
 Of the soul; 
 
 Yet each Spirit loves its own dream, 
 Calmly moulding its ideal 
 Pulseless, where the tides of glory 
 Ceaseless roll ! 
 
 Is it that discerning Fancy 
 Marshals up from heart remembrance 
 Forms of Being, which to move us 
 
 Crowd each scene, 
 Thick with wild youth's deathless longings! — 
 Lost to Spirit, save that visions 
 Waked of memory 'mid Earth's trials, 
 
 Litervene ! — 
 
208 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 As the dewy cloud of Evening- 
 Hangs, a rapture, lightly curling 
 Into tint and smiling notice — 
 So with thought ! 
 
 Would that Soul could dwell forever 
 'Mid the gay creation floating. 
 Wafted on mild Music's pinions 
 Throuo-h the heart ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 irr: 
 
 i^:' J.r,, 18(111.