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Do not deface books by marks and writing, - Cornell University Library PR 5649.T68R2 The real and ideal; 3 1924 013 563 428 .-.^ ^j;'^^S^^/ THE REAL AND IDEAL. The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013563428 THE REAL AliD IDEAL. POEMS BY ARTHUR LLEWELLYNc^,..4^HV,J LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GEEAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1863. /\. ■^^\5*. ^ ^ LONDON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIJI HOUSE. C N T E N T S. PAGE THE SPIBIT OF POESY 1 NIGHT 30 SPEING TIME 33 0, THEEE AEE SOUNDS OP MYSTIC MELODY 52 THE AWAKENING OF LIBEETY o4 THE DEATH OF DAY .59 MEMOBIES 61 THE CHILD'S GRAVE 65 THE BEAUTIFUL GO NEW YEAE'S DAY IN DREAMLAND 73 THE MEBRY HEAET OF CHILDHOOD 77 OHEISTMAS IS COMING 80 THIS IS DEATH 83 MOVE ON 86 THE EDEN OF LOVE 8!) LIGHT IN DAEKNESS 91 BEAUTY AND JOY 93 THE SUN 'S BEHIND THE HILLS 96 A FAEBWELL TO THE YEAE 1857 98 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH 101 THE "VVOELD'S FAVORITE 106 AUTUMN ;.. 107 EVENING 110 THE WILD, WILD WAVES 112 ODE TO SLEEP 115 STOEM AND CALM 117 THE BEAVE LIVE OX 120, CONTENTS. I'AGK BLIGHTED m CALM SUMMER NIGHT 125 WOEDS 127 VIOO 130 DEEAMLAND 133 CAMBEIA 135 SUNGLINTS AND SHADOWS 138 HOW OFT IN THE DIM NIGHT 143 LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE 144 SHALL MT SOUL MEET THINE ? 140 SOBBOW 149 HAPPINESS 154 ICONOCLAST 160 FOUND DROWNED 159 ASUMMEE STOEM 162 THE NIGHT IS DAEK AND COLD 164 IT COMES NOT AGAIN 167 WAE 168 LOST! LOST! Ili9 LIFE'S PATHWAY 171 BLIGHTED HOPES 172 A STORMY DAY 175 WE WILL NOT WEEP FOR HIM 177 PLEASURE 179 AN AUTUMN THOUGHT 180 SONG TO DEJECTION 182 ROLL ON, CLEAR STREAM 184 THE LOVE OF LIFE 188 LINES TO 191 A CHILD'S GRIEF 194 STAY, STAY 190 A DREAM 197 BLOW, BLOW, WILD WINDS 200 ELIZA 201 A BROTHER BORN FOR ADVERSITY 204 BOOKS 208 THE REAL AND IDEAL THE SPIRIT OF POESL Part I. Spirit, that when the world was young, Didst wander o'er the plains of Earth, And waken into tones of mirth Her dull grey heart; like harp new-strung. Of land, sea, sky, not one was mute, Naiads along the rills divine Laughed lightly, and the happy Nine Sang to Apollo's silver lute. THE SPIRIT OF POEST. Oh, thou wert ever hovering o'er The minds of mortals, in the days When cloudlets beamed with Iris' rays. And Neptune moaned on every shore ; — When Flora strewed the way with flowers. Though 'neath lurked Hades' gloomy bed ; And hurling thunderbolts o'erhead Sate Jove august, supreme of powers ; — Imagination dimmed the Real; And thou wert seen in calm and storm — No idle tuk', but living form ; Man's spirit dwelt in the Ideal ! II. We sec not Iris in the cloud, Nor Gods to old Parnassus climb ; They've passed away from Earth — and Time Hath wrapped Age round them like a shroud. The world is no more young — '■'■It seems" Is changed into " It is" — The Life, That pants and throbs in weary strife, Will never more be lulled by dreams. THE SPIEIT OF POESY. Dwellest thou, Spiiit, with the cold Stern Present, this, we call our own / Or by the grey sepulchral stone Still watchest at the grave of Old ? III. Thou that didst open to the Blind The gates of Paradise, where he Saw in the Past the bright " To be" Glassed there in glory undefined ! Like to the softened light of Even, When winds have ceased to vex the sea. Came o'er my soul the thought of thee ; — • A calm — which seemed a dream of Heaven : I sought thee through green wood and glen. And mountain crag, a joyous child ; And in late years through mazes wild Amid the noisy haunts of Men. Among the opening buds of Spring, I saw the light prints of thy feet, — Heard lingering echoes, rich and sweet. As of thy voice through forests ring : — THE SPIRIT OP POESY. IV. Have watclied from noon to even's vs^ane, On summer's waving sea of grass, The shadows, lengthening as they pass, Till lost in gloom along the plain : — "When rich old Autumn, crowned King, Laughed at the yellow-tasselled grain Fighting and battling vrith the rain ; "While warrior winds roared wondering; The merry old King, laughing, died ; And treacherous blithe wily Day Became the sworn friend of Decay, And like tiger-whelps at play They gambolled on the mountain's side. "When Death's keen terror-spreading gale Swept the tall trees, and brown leaves fell ; Cold tear-drops through the tangled dell Trickled adown the branches pale ; — And flowers dare not venture forth. For far and near along the wold, In swift cloud-chariot dark and cold. Rode the strong Tyrant of the North. THE SPIRIT OF POEST. From the rose-blush to frosty rime, With Hope, my guardian Angel still, 1 waited for thy Spirit-thrill While added years were lost to Time. V. 'Twas pleasant through Night's pathless way To watch the moon glide forth alone ; When nought was heard save owl's sad tone, Or through the mist the watch-dog's bay, — Or hail the light in Eastern sky, The first faint streak of rising day Tinge the horizon's line of grey, And morning ope its dazzling eye, — Or con the page of bardic lore. At noon beside some pebbly brook. In a sequestered shady nook. And think of Spirits gone before. Often, while wandering in the bright Warm Summer, on the tawny sands, I thought thy home in other lands Must be beyond my bounded sight ; — THE SPIRIT OF POESY. TI. Youth loves the far off— yes, 'tis strange That it should love a foreign shore, Ever see sunlight playing o'er The distant hills, and long for change : — And roving Fancy's home for thee Was in some tranquil fairy grove. Sacred to Liberty and Love, VHiere shades of Genius hover free. Perchance where from the heaving blue Green isles make glad the seaman's sight ; "Where night seems but a paler light. And Fragrance wakes to drink the dew. ( )y o"er the crested azure wave, Where low the sun sinks in the west. Whore rich-hucd cloudlets brood, and rest Above the spot Daj- finds a gi'ave. VII. What words shall paint the Infant's joy When first, in wonder and delight, It hails Earth's blossoms bathed in light. Earth's roses, ere the thorns alloy? THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Oh, mark it gaily trip along ; — Treading the spangled grassy sod, Fairest of all the works of God, Music each sound, each thought a song. As mind expands — reflection grows, — "Who made that bud with dew-gems wet?" "Yon flaming sun above who set?" — Such questions break the Soul's repose. Sing on, ye birds ! — wave, ye green leaves ! — Each breeze that blows its influence spreads, Oh, world, mar not the beauteous threads, That web of thought, the infant weaves ! vm. When mocking Doubt hath spread its snare, And Unbelief approving smiles. Haste to the spot beloved erewhiles. Where first thy young lips lisped a prayer ; — Retrace in thought the winding way That led thee from a mother's knee, The lingering beams of Infancy Will serve to light the darksome way; — THE SPIRIT OF POEST. And thou shalt list and hear again Music that through the wide air floats, Sweet as some quiring Angel's notes ; — Though Reason cold may sneer as vain : With Faith the soul shall wing its flight, — Barriers Philosophy hath taught, Like frost-work, beautifully wrought, Shall melt 'neath rays of Heavenly light. IX. As on a mountain's topmost height Some tiny pool, with silver eye, Mirrors the planet vast on high. Far up the deep dark arch of Night ; The Soul that spurns timidity. Above the chance and change of Time, Merges all in the great, sublime. And mirrors the Infinity ; — The Man whose childish feet have trod With fearless step the mountain path, And made high rocks his play-place, hath Some grand conception of a God! THE SPIRIT OF POESY. The memory of wood-draped hills, — The distant tinkling of sheep-bell — In after-years, as in the shell Its glad home music — the heart fills. When eyes are closed to outward forms, — When Care's tide ebbs, and rest is given, The Spirit, lark -like, soars to Heaven, And sings above the warring storms. (Alone we delve into our minds. Learn what we were, and what we are. Recount each victory — each scar, Each wound that time with healing binds ; Each joy — ^but can we be alone ? Tliose we call dead — are they not near ? "AloneJ" oh, word dreaded or dear. Still with a sadness in its tone !) 'Twas night — still Thought its vigils kept. While, like a ship by breezes fanned, That far behind her leaves the land. All, all things faded, and I slept. THE SPIRIT OP POESY. Oh, but it was a glorious dream ! The spirit-forms of ancient days Rose up before me ; and the lays Of seers and prophets — ^like a stream Borne by the breath of aU the years, That backward rolled the heaving tide ; Until its surges, echoing wide, Rang holy music in mine ears. As though, in an Enchanter's glass, Araby's wilderness I saw ; And, trembling, heai'd with soul-filled awe Old Sinai quake, Jehovah pass ; Beheld the remnant warriors flee — Heard blend the shouts on Gideon's plain With wail of mourners o'er the slain, " The smile of God was victory." Lebanon's groves with praises rang ; The flocks upon the mountain's side Browse peacefully — young fingers glide O'er tuneful harp-chords — David sang. 10 THE sriRiT OP roESY. Beheld descend through parted sky Fire-chariots, and Elijah rose Deathless to Heaven — the blue veil close And tranquil clouds go sailing by. Then heard resounding through the years Voices on Zion's crumbling wall ; Isaiah to repentance call — And Jeremiah wet with tears. XII. Another scene — a placid sea — A fisher's boat — with cheerful will The nets are cast, the winds are still, The stars look down on Galilee. A voice floats on the air of night, It is the Teacher's — there sits He, The Christ that was, is, is to be. The link where God and man unite. Softly the vision passed away, Shining amid the waters blue : It glided, glided from my view — Still glowing like the sun's last ray. 11 THE SPIRIT or POEST. XIII. Then I was in a noisome court, Where pain and festering disease, In a mazy dance that did not cease. Went round with human life to sport. And one came forth, and bade them look At the yawning gulf beneath, Ere Death drew from its reeking sheath The keen-edged sword which o'er them shook ; And one led a child, pale and wan, From out the shadow dark, to see The light that shone o'er grass and tree, And smiled in love on fallen man. And Poesy seemed whispering there — The child was taught, at even-lime, To list the old Cathedral chime Peal through the murky atmosphere. XIV. And tliere was a mother — a widowed one — She rocked her sickly babe to sleep With strains of woe so wild and deep, As though she wished Life's sands were run. 12 THE SPIRIT OF POEST. I looked where Misery had wrought Such fearful havoc, leagued with wrong, Where Right was trampled by the throng, And Truth had left the human thought. Then, with a loud and sudden rush, A flood was sweeping all away — When, climbing up a rocky way, A faintness and a dreamy hush Crept o'er my spirit — I awoke ; Not in the pleasant eastern clime, Nor on the hills of Childhood's time, But mid a City's noise and smoke. Part II. Faith, Hope, and Love, a glorious three Or one — whose talismanic power Saves the possessor in the hour — The evil hour of Misery ! 13 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Faith, Hope, and Love, when storm-winds hurled Destruction, like a mighty foe, Sweeping the beauteous earth below — A Deluge rolled above the world ; Safe from the waves, within the Ark, Ye rested with old Noah's soul, Until he reached Ararat's goal. Then glowed amid the cloudlet dark. And yet ye are ideal — oh, high Bright rainbow ladder, richly given For us to reach and climb to Heaven, Evanish never from our sky ! Why hopeless tread the shades of Life ? Why walk as though among the dead ? Why give the hungry stones for bread, With cruel words that stir up strife ? There is more poetry in one Poor heart ; in one hot scalding tear — One withered smile, though cold and sere, Than all 'neath Heaven the glorious Sun 14 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Beholds of earth, mount, waterfall — Ocean's wide wealth of isles o'ercast With time-strewn records of the Past — One human life outweighs them all. Life ! with its meed of hopes and cares, Its crown of thorns, or wreath of flowers, That, borne by the light-footed hours, O'ertake and leave us unawares. Life, with awakened conscience stings — Life, with remorse and vain regrets ; Duty, with its uncancelled debts — All that Man's tortured bosom -svrings ! Mistrust, the Sceptic's stumbling-block — Dark Vice, with all its liideous brood ; Evil contrasted with the Good — Life's shoals and quicksands, with the rock ; Vice's wintry desolation — and The summer freshness goodness spreads Through the warm heart, like gUttering threads Of streams meandering through green land ; 15 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Valour, with manly bravery Bearing its cross, and ne'er cast down ; Victory with its glossy crown ; And sinking shackled Slavery. Indifference, with its poppy wreath, Enthusiasm's glowing ray — ■ Wild Speculation's shadow play — Hypocrisy, with tainted breath. Love, Mirth, and Joy — a happy group ; Mild Pity, furious bitter Hate ; And Envy, hissing at the gate — Where rest gay Pleasure's merry troop. Or holy Faith's seraphic wings, Soaring beyond Time's busy hours — These are the strong and lofty powers Which now must strike the Idalian strings. Whate'er the heart may feel or know Of grief, or pain's deep piercing dart ; Or anguish's self-consuming smart, Whate'er of joy, or blackest woe. 16 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. III. " The Shades of Life," — the people throng Together, questioning if above Still dwelleth He, the God of Love ? Trembling, they grope through blackest wrong. The holy mountain, cloaked ivith mist, May straight before their vision rise ; But still the legate of the skies Comes not with comfort to the midst. Those wanderers in a thirsty land Of old beheld the stubborn rock Tremble, and yield beneath the shock Of a frail rod in Moses' hand. Lo ! sparkling gushed a Hving rill Of crystal waters cool and free ; The Moses-rod of Sympathy We have — ay, use it as we will. IV. From the rose-blush to frosty rime — O Poesy ! I sought thee still ; Sought thee o'er glen, and copse, and hill. While added years were lost to time ! 17 c THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Nor knew that thou wert here alway ; While yet my truant steps would roam, Thou, like an Angel in our home, Hallowest the common Everyday. A presence felt, although vnseen ; Nor missed, until its upward flight Sinks on the soul in gloom and night. And sadness gathers o'er the scene. Like to a sun, in Winter's sky. Hidden by many a fold of cloud, Though mists our feeble sight o'ershroud- Still brightly burns the sun on high ! V. Yes, though the World is growing old. With brow austere, and heart unkind, And breath harsh as the wintry wind That blows along the barren wold. The Beautiful is living still, Undimmed the clear cerulean blue ; Unpaled the soft sweet verdant hue That vvreathes the plain, and robes the hill. 18 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Grandly the woods wave to and fro, Their ancient anthems in the trees ; Chant those wild minstrels, winds and leave As in the ages long ago, — In glorious lustre as of yore, Bright stars be-gem the swarthy night, From orient seas Day rises bright, Prism-hued waves leap on the shore. And ever in the murkiest gloom Some gleam of light breaks on our way ; Still beaming o'er the dim life-day. Gilding the death-night of the tomb. Ever remains some joy to bless The sorrow of the darkest grief ; Ever some angel of relief. Oases in each wilderness. VI. The presence of th' Immortal God Hallows each spot of this gi'een earth ; And Soul, a gem of priceless worth. Glitters in radiance through its clod. 13 2 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. If that which Thou hast made t' outlive The oldest star, with prying eyes, Seek glimpses of that Paradise, Veiled o'er by Thee — O God forgive ! If the weak, the diminutive — The Atom rise and seek to scan Thy wondrous law, thy mighty plan — Question the All-wise — God forgive ! All fabled glory, howe'er bright. Fades in the lustre of Truth's day ; Extinguished, like a taper's ray In summer's golden blaze of light. VII. Could we with noble energy, And with a watch-man's practised eye, Survey wild Being surging by. The quivering of that human sea ; In thunder-tones would bid us rise- — And ever linger not amid Dead sapless leaves, by blossoms hid. Where Beauties tattered Truths despise. 20 THE SPIRIT OP POESY. Tempests may lour upon the hill — Billows convulsed roar in the storm ; Hearts bleed, cheeks blanch, Poesy's form, Christ-like, through tumult, cries, "Be still!" The Heaven-born binds around the brow The glossy leaves, the laurel wreath. And from all future thunders safe. It rests, unharmed by ills below. VIII. Is Life not bliss ? We dare not tell The sorrow-stricken that it is, — To him in Misery's abyss, 'Twere mockery to say — " All's well." Yet "Life is bliss/' and Death alone Is the all dark, all sad, all drear ; Then what is that men call "Despair," That blank from which all hope is gone '? We know not — but this know, scenes near, That crushed, appalled us — distant, have A pleasant hue — beyond the grave — Dark "now," perchance, will bright appear. 21 THE SPIKIT OF POESY. Spirit of Poesy ! sweep the lyre With gentle touch — as breezes wake The iEolian strings, and music make — AVith words touch as with holy fire The lips of those who, Jacob-like, Would win a blessing from thee here — Whose hero-hearts, unchained by fear, In moral warfare pant to strike ! Who go from Happiness, and mark The never-happy — ay, whose lips Breathe comfort through the dire eclipse — Wing thoughts, like lightning, through the dark ! X. The spirit Poesy moves and dwells. Not only on the purple heath, AU fragrant with the broom-trees' breath — Or in old woods, whose rise and swells Make noon-day twilight ;• — (earthly things Though all magnificent) to mould A brother-tie (not one of gold) 'Twixt Man and Man, her flight she wings, 22 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. And calls to aid her all the Powers ; And weaves bright links of love, to bind In harmony all, all mankind ; And scatters o'er this world of ours Blossoms of joy unknown before : Noblest of creeds — whose creed is this, " The law of Kindness," Law of Bliss — Faith, Hope, and Love for evermore. XI. 'Tis not alone where Beauty reigns. And, blissful as a lark in June, Joy ever sings his sweetest tune. Where no sad echoes mock the strains ; — 'Tis not alone where all is fair. Where flowers of richest hues are found— And fountains flash with ringing sound, Amid the glad, the light, and rare. The strains of Poesy should be, — But in the homes of Poor and Low, Whispering hope and soothing woe, Setting Sin's abject bondsmen free— 23 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Smoothing the wrinkled brow of Care ; Smiling with Splendour and with Wealth, The couch of Sickness — glow of Health ; Ay, breeze-like, floating everywhere! Where Ignorance broods, cloud-like, oer — And Gloom and Superstition blind. Torture and haunt the fear-tost mind — A chaos wild without a shore; Where Want and Sin, companions old — (Want goeth first) knock at the heart, And enter in to gall and smart — Till Love's last embers e'en grow cold ; Where Crime and Ruin, 'neath their ban. Shadow the few faint rays of light ; Like evil angels of the night, Wrestle and grapple with the Man ; The claims of Human brotherhood, And Charity, with sov'reign string. Mild Poesy should teach and sing— The harbinger of endless good — 24 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. XIII. To Misery bringing fortitude — Kind hope unto the branded name — Mercy to Guilt in chains and shame — Peopling the loneliest solitude With angel-forms — a glorious throng ! The freshness of primeval youth To Man returns again ; and Truth, With music, leads the soul along ; Dropping like showers of summer rain On the parched, sterile, arid clay : All light, all hope — welcome as day ; All joy — and all that these contain. XIV. No cold majestic pyramid ; Ancient, imposing, vast, and bold ; Bearing the bones of monarchs old — Or where old relics rich are hid ; No sculptured marble's stately air To startle the deep-wondering sense- Standing in calm magnificence, Deathly serene— placidly fair — 25 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Poesy needs : — but Life, true Life — With quick vibrations of heart-chords ThriUing through glowing thoughts and words, Where Sympathy and Love are rife. XV. Sweet words, that seem like bells to chime. Through the old halls of Memory — And waken echoing melody, Linking eternity to time ! The flowers that bloom ; the birds that sing ; The tranquil nights and happy days — The halo-light of love which plays Around Home's hallowed fairy ring ; — Warm breathing, feeling, flesh and blood — Still hoping for a better land, With which each man may clasp a hand, And claim a cordial brotherhood. We need no ghosts of other years — No hero-myth or demi-god — No bolt at a celestial nod, To thunder through the rolling spheres. 26 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. No mighty giant of the North, Hammer to wield or strike a blow ; No Jotun swift from land of snow, In his ice-ship to wander forth. The ghosts of other years may sleep — The Present, with a step sublime, Stalks o'er their graves : the while old Time Rocks them in slumber still more deep. Spirit, that when the world was young. Didst wander o'er the plains of Earth, And waken into tones of mirth Her dull grey heart, like harp new-strung, - The living Immortality, Radiant with untold glory bright, Robed round with a celestial light — We, being mortal, cannot see. Come, Spirit, viewless as the wind. Lead us, and we will soar with thee. Away through far Immensity, On the light pinions of the Mind — 27 THE SPIHIT OF POESY. Soar e'en to where Heaven's portals shine ; Hear echoes of the anthem high Eing through the wide arch of the sky — Some measure of the life divine ! Seer, that with divinest art, See'st merit thro' rags torn and old ; And vileness oft thro' silken fold — And beauty in a dull weed's heart ! Teach me, amid the giddy whirl, Foam-waves have hid from happier eyes. To dive and seize the glorious prize In Life's deep tide, and find the pearl ; With patient faith, e'en from our youth. The thrones of Ignorance and Night Ever to assail with arms of Right, And the bare sword of mighty Truth. O'ermastered by no passing storm — Still walk abreast with the glad years, With no vain unavailing fears ; — Unshackled by dead creeds and forms, 28 THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Tread the rough path — where Wrong and Strife, Like lions fierce, block up the way, And Joy's warm sunbeams seldom play. And learn the mystery of Life ! 29 NIGHT. High up the eastern heavens, great flocks of clouds, Like swarthy birds that herald darkness, flap Their broad and dusky wings : — Deep silence rests On Earth ; while Nature waits the approach of night. Shadowy, solemn Night ! With mystic touch Waking the slumbering chords of melody Within my soul ; My very pulses throb With fervent adoration to my God ; When thou, Night ! from thy far wanderings In ether's wilderness, returnest here — Returnest, like an exiled king, to claim Again thy glittering crown of stars. 30 NIGHT. The distant hum hath died away ; The trampling turmoil and wild strife of life Forgotten for awhile, in peaceful rest The million-peopled City sleeps ; — and, save A few who will or dare not sleep — all rest. Sweet sleep ! Foretaste of that long tranquil night, The tired clay shall slumber through, when Soul, Untrammelled with the things of Time, Shall mount to heavenly regions, known alone To God, his angels, and redeemed saints — Shall mount aloft — or sink ! Oh, happy Sleep ! calm counterfeit of Death — Silence protects thee from the strife of tongues ; Twin Charity and Hope thy guardians are. While meek-eyed Peace lays her smooth cheek on thine. Her cooling palm upon thy feverish brow — And stills the throbbings of the o'erburdened brain. Daylight is gone — The landscape fades away — Oblivion closes over outward things ; Chains all the Man, except his chainlcss mind — Mind, Heart, Will, Soul, ay, call it what thou wilt. Active as the eternal universe — Yokefellow to the body — Oh, how strong ! 31 KIGI-IT. How lofty, how sublime when free ! Running wild riot in the spacious halls That ope upon Infinitude ! Imagination revels there, amid The cloud-fields of Dream-land — Enchanted ground ; Where clam'rous Care is dumb — and even Grief Forgets to weep ; — "Where Doubt is Certainty ; Hope, Realisation — Poverty, Wealth. — Whose soothing air can calm the bursting pangs Of wild Despair, and change Captivity To Freedom — There, ay, and there alone. Past, Present, Future meet — Where the Hours pause In their gay circling dance — and Time itself Is an Eternity. Fame, Honour, Love, Power — each, and all, gladden the Dreamer's soul. As some sea-swell the parched and thirsty sand. Waves have long left. The moonlight glimmers on the sward ; A holy radiance— Circling the dim night. Like mercy o'er the darkened path of Life — Pale Cynthia ! blest by many a heart, That in unrest, like the foam-crested surge, Panting for peace along the dreary beach, 33 NIGHT. Looks up to her — Kind Moon ! she bringeth to The Seaman's mind, in midnight's lonely watch, A pleasant picture — Waving trees, through which The pale light gleams upon a little cot — The one poor cot in all the wealthy world. The wanderer may call '■'■Home" — The Invahd Smiles a wan welcome as the cheering rays Stream through the lattice-pane; — And to the eyes Of the fast-sinking dying one it comes, Peopled with Light-tiared angel-bands — Heaven's convoy, that shall lead him to a land Needing nor Sun, nor Moon, nor Star. It is the dead of night ; Huge Evil rears his giant form ; summons His scattered hosts again ; and, brandishing His deadly weapons o'er th' unconscious world. Vows endless war with Good — omnipotent, Eternal Good ! — See, sweeping through the air Methinks they come (or is it fantasy ?) : Swifter than tempest's wing, tumultuously They come ! — Murder, with pale ghosts at his side : Pride, furious Revenge, Wrong, Avarice, Base Perfidy, snake-hke hissing Envy, — KIGIIT. With all their trains ; — what frenzied shrieks, what yells ! Was e'er such discord ? Earth, O Earth ! and wilt ? And canst thou harbour monsters foul as these ? Thou, the Immortal one of old pronounced To be, ay, "very good" — ^And angels, through Eternity's bi-ight portal, smiled upon With joy, to see thee roll through space, and take Thy place among the worlds ; and chorus with The morning stars the glorious song that broke The bonds of captive Silence. Earth, Earth ! Has Evil fixed his throne on thy green hills ? And made thy woods and vales his dwelling-place ? And drowned with his loud roar thy chant of joy? — Ha ! there they go — a legion, his fierce band ; Skeleton Death goes hurrying after — Kuin following closely in his track ; — They've passed, lost in the distant gloom ; they've passed ; And yet their hateful voices ring, and rend The silence of the dark concave of Night ! But there's more Good than Evil in the world ; Ay, laugh, ye fiends ! and sneer, ye infidels ! But there're less thorns than flowers — The Enemy Sows tares ; but Oh ! a rich ripe harvest will 34 NIGHT. The Angel reapers garner up in Heaven ! All silently, The sullen clouds are driven by ruthless Blasts across the midnight sky — ^As sere leaves Before the desolating autumn winds ; The half-formed Moon hastens upon her way, Like a fond parent, leading by the hand Her favourite little star. — How still ! how calm ! no sound is heard, No sound save distant roar of waters far, In the shell-paved deep caverns of the sea, Rousing faint Echo on the dreary shore ; — There stand the hoary patriarchal rocks. As they have stood for ages, listening To the sweet prattle of bright infant waves, That play with their long grey locks of sea-weed : They seem to smile now, in the dim moonlight, — But when the vexed surge leaps and foams with ragf, Fearful the frowns on those time-furrowed brows ! The waves are rocked to sleep — the winds Have sung their lullaby — they, too, have slept — But yonder lingers still some Zephyr lone. Wea^•ing its fingers soothingly, amid The sombre trellis of the ivy leaves But, hark ! the Winds Arc sighing heavily — they have gone dovra The beach — and whispered something to the waves, ,See ! one by one they start from sleep — and now Arc dancing to and fro ; — Above, the wan, Pale terror-stricken Moon, stUl paler grown, With that lone star, flees from the storm— closely Pursued by mnged lightnings swift — and from Yon mighty ebon cloud I hear the sound Of muttered thunder ! Louder it roars ! rocking The earth as 'twould vinrest the sleeping Dead Of ages. Deep hollow groans, from moaning Winds, convulse the gulfs and chasms where broodinj! Silence dwells ; The fluttering sea-gulls shriek, And, blind with terror, dash against the rocks ! Fiercer, and fierctr, The wild storm rages on — as if it fain Would pierce the inmost depths of this dark globe ; A sheet of living fire lights up the skies ! 36 NIGHT. The lightning quivers tangled in the clouds, Ghastly the glare reflected on the waves ! The air above gleams like a glassy sea, Burning with sunset's gold and crimson glow ; The rumbling Thunder-car rolls on, and on — Showering down darkness : deep, deeper, now Profound as an eclipse through space Ha ! there's another flash ! 37 SPRING TIME. Part I. I. Soft as the breath of Love, Spring, thou dost ever move Among the churchyard trees ; — Bending above the silent bed, Shaking thy crown of leaves ; — Canst smile where sleep the Dead ? The yew weeps tears of blood, Ever in sorrowing mood ; But thou, in sportive glee, Wilt wreathe gay flowers above the sod, And bring to the dull Clay Smiles from the bright Day-god ;- 38 SPRING TIME. Oh, sure the spirit comes to view This spot ; then set the violet, And all that's sweet above the grave ; Why plant the yew? II. With a leafy mantle clad. Thou makest old Earth glad ; — Zephyrs the blossoms fan, And all, in joy and wild delight. Mock the dark gloom of Man — All else is blissful, bright ; He, he alone beneath the sky, From thee can borrow thoughts of sorrow — Spring, even thou canst bring the moisture to his eye. III. Memory, from her caves, Goeth amid the graves Of the Past abysmal; And readeth on the gleaming stones, That ghostly and dismal Stand 'bove the buried bones ; 39 SPRING TIME. That Winter, dark and cold, Hath hidden 'neath the mould The ones I loved, from me ; Autumn hath brought me many a grief — But, sweet Spring, I love thee ! Thou com'st to my relief; Attuning wild Despair to mirth — And telling me from each green tree, That there is Happiness and joy yet left on earth. Thou art the same old Spring That used to chirp and sing, As if for very bliss. That a thing like thee, so fresh and fair, Lived in a world like this. Harassed by pain and care ; Blithe as Day, the same old Spring, With sunny ray, and lightsome play. That to my ear, in Childhood, used to chirp and sing ! V. Sad is it with the Blind, In prison dark confined — 40 SPRING TIME. Sight cannot rove where leaves Weave robes, in which bare woods are drest, Nor where the blue sky heaves Through clouds that will not rest ; — The daisied path along the hill He cannot find, — Sad to be blind ! But the Mind with clouded vision, oh, sadder still ! VI. There are who never know The purifying glow. The freshness thou canst bring — Whose iron hearts corrode with rust ; Life's tree, unblossoming. Is thick with Traffic's dust : The parched, lone wayside flower Awaits a welcome hour, When the awakening rain Will sing along the meadow grass, And o'er the dusky plain, — But for those, alas ! alas ! What gentle showers shall lave Hearts hard and cold with the blight of Gold ' Awake the dull ear, earthy, earthy as the Grave ! 41 SPRING TIME. Oh, how I thank the Powers, That in Life's morning hours, Guided my soul to love Beauty and Good ; — Twin Genii they, Bright guardians from above ; Moving amid the day ; Haunting the Twilight stilly, — Calm and fair, floating everywhere ; O'er tree-top high, and low beside the water-lily. Part II. What is the World ? — Its islands and its oceans, Its mountains crowned ^\'ith everlasting snow, Its rushing cataracts, wakening emotions Ecstatic as they flow 1 Are they realities? — Flower-spangled Meads, and thickets tangled — And all the gorgeous pictures Nature hath To deck our darksome path — 42 SPRING TIMK. Lighting us through the days of Infancy, Moving about us in eternal joy ; Till dreams of mystic glory Halo our spirits ; — ^Nothing can destroy Those raptures visionary, That haunt us as we go ; Still questioning Truth of each bright created thing ; The Why ? the Wherefore ? Whither ? The answer ever — "Thither." The fiery spark, The Intellectual gleam Within us, whispers, — " Life is not a dream." II. On, on perpetually, the Seasons urge Young Spring; mild Summer; weary Autumn pale; — Then we hear midnight moan the dead year's dirge. Year, dead in Winter's Vale, — Ever changing ; yet changeless ever ; — Like some broad rolling river, Or as the varying cloudlets fleet In passing, stiU repeat The vanished forms and hues of yesterday ; Thus still/ the Past, Sunshine, and foliage green, Hours swept away, 43 SPRING TIME. Return again — Splendouf and light to dance Upon the Present's way. — The last year's music — distant strain, Through leafy woods echoes again ; Skies, that erst wore leaden hue. Now robed in ethereal blue — The same tints glowing in the waving flowers ; Our hearts exclaim — Lo ! these are last year's bowers ! in. How came they here, with fragrant breath Wafting sweet incense o'er the dewy leas ? Methought they passed the gloomy porch of Death, Crossing Oblivion's seas Into the tomb of Being — Far, far beyond all seeing ; And there, safe from the tempest's sullen roar. Rested for evermore ; — I marked the clouds drop many a tear, As each bright blossom drooped its weary head ; And o'er its chilly bier, — Like some old Minstrel over Chieftain dead, The "Wind through forests drear, 44 SPRING TIME. Struck its wild harp ; oft uttering a groan — Wandering o'er cheerless moor and fell alone; — Lorn fountains, hills, and groves. Once more behold your loves ! Wreathed with gay smiles the sunlight plays upon, Ye dreamed of anguish — See ! they are not gone : — IT. But ah! 'mid the returning joys of Earth, So beautiful! 'mid brooklet's rippling song, I miss loved voices, silvery tones of mirth. That ever gladsome throng ! Why come they not ? Earth, call them back ; Bid them return from last year's track ; Lost Friends, clear stars of purity, love-bright ; Gone down in trackless gloom ; — Vain man! Why mourn? Soon shall thy Reason's might Depart ; — Such our sad doom ! V. Beneath yon eaves there was a vacant nest ; The bird had taken wing — Flown, none knew whither; — Now, with panting breast, 45 SPRING TIME. I hear him twittering, His home new-tenanting; — But long shall wait the desolated home, Of him who passed the undiscovered bourne ! VI. Blessed Word of Life ! Hope of the life to be ! Saviour, thrice glorified ! Erring Soul's Friend ! Who taught dark wondering Humanity Death's waking knows no end ; — Ever revivifying Earth Might teU dead Winter's vernal birth ; Ten thousand ages see that glorious sun Its heavenly journey run; Yet leave Man's hungering soul forlorn. Existence tell him he was mortal — But show no dawning morn — Point to no hand could ope the prison's portal. And raise the mouldered form ; Had not the holy Word breathed from on high, Proclaimed a Spring-time nigh — When, like yon budding tree, Man second birth shall see ; And, flower-like, burst the Grave's dull shadow deep ; For Death, with all its terrors, is but Sleep. • 40 SPRING TIME. Part III. It is a noble thought, to feel, to view Each atom of the Universe, each fail- Expanding tree ; blossoms of mantling hue, Wafting their perfumed air O'er Earth and sky ; each living thing — From fluttering butterfly of Spring, To the wild Eagle, with keen steadfast gaze Eyeing the sun's bright blaze; — Through wide Intelligence's vast, wondrous scale ; From Instinct to the lofty heights of Soul, And Immortality — Each one a link of that great whole, Being's mysterious chain — Vibrating from the cloud-veiled dazzling throne. Glory's meridian, — To feel through Day's delight. And the deep silent Night, Throughout Nature's greatest and minutest part, Soul, like the throbbing pulse of a great heart! 47 SPRING TIME. II. But Nature, to me, is one vast Poem ; — Sublime Ideas of the Godhood ; brightly woven Throughout Creation, in harmonious prime Of unity — Given In light resplendent, to illume With glory, the Soul's darksome gloom ; — And blest ! is the unclouded mental sight Can read its page aiight — Guide the exulting Spirit's soaring ynng Through the deep boundless space ; With sacred power, Sweep the impassioned string Of Inspiration's harp ; and tower To Truth's majestic Spring ! Lift subtle thought, and joyous roll away The haze that dims our noontide ray ; — Awhile forget that tears E'er dimmed the shrouded Years ; Forget it is the whispering breeze you hear. Think 'tis the echo of the Angel quire ! III. The waving pines, on yonder mountain high. Seem listening to the Zephyr's holy psalm ; 48 SPRING TIME. Now bending to the vale, now to the sky "With its eternal calm, Uplifting their green arms — Silence, each leaflet charms ; As though that cloudless firmament above, Intensely blue, smiling in love. Bade them be stUl. Look up, thou soul of mine ; See, though wild winds hurled many a frowning cloud O'er that clear sky — whUe through Time Each young year fluttered ; — Darkness, like a shroud Hath gathered ; yet doth it shine Unruffled as when Adam's wondering eyes Oped in the bowers of Paradise ; And thus, though troubles may Obscure the Heart's bright day. Dark shadows overhang Hope's glorious portal, Soul, calm be thou ! — ^Thou art Immortal ! I IV. When one by one the stars put out their light. And Morning drew the curtain of the skies ; Startling that lingering dreamer, ebon Night — I saw the Lark arise. 49 SPRING TIME. Brush his dewy wing, and go From bed of king-cups yellow, To welcome in the richness Spring discloses ; Violets, cowslips, pale primroses, — Earth's sparkling stars of hope ; The blythe lark sang Carolling music, showering peal on peal. Throughout the wide air rang A thrill of joy ; methought 'twas an appeal To the mute heart of man. Birds, insects, bees, God's meanest works rejoice — Fountains, rills, flowerets, find a voice, — That cloud-lost speck pours forth his happiness. As though he never could express The bliss he feels ; soaring and singing there. Seeking for heaven throughout the fields of air. Here, deep within this foliage-shaded glen, The Heart re-treads the pathway of the years Towards sweet hallowed days ; Gladness again Chases away all tears, — Joy smiles upon the death of Sorrow ; Gilding the sunnier morrow 50 SPKING TIME. "With the golden tints of glowing youth — Radiant as Truth ! — The Angel, Peace, is smiling on me now, Sweet smUes of beauty — Spirits in the flowers. As the cool breezes kiss my brow, "Waft me to other scenes, to bygone hours ! — The suns, moons, stars, of " long ago," Are ever bright, its seasons ever vernal — Its worship, thoughts of the Eternal — The faces there are ever young ; Its friends still fond, its songs still sung ; — There, fadeless the bright wreath Affection wove ; One serene Day ! — One holy dream of Love ! 51 Js2 0, THERE ARE SOUNDS OF MYSTIC MELODY. O, there are sounds of mystic melody By unseen voices softly breathed from heaven, When twilight faintly sighs his last "good even," As on its stem each flower hangs heavily : — It soothes the musing Poet's pensive heart ; Cold disappointment, and keen sorrow's smart No more are felt ; while round, above him, hover A busy brood of thoughts ; With silken wings Fanning the mind's deep silence : As on Spring's AVarm days, when butterflies would fain discover The violet's eye — bright hue of sky and ocean — Its balmy odour guides their fluttering motion — The Poet's spirit, fancy-led, pursues The fairy path that leads him to the Muse. O, THERE ARE SOUNDS OP MYSTIC MELODY. Wan, pale-browed Sorrow may sit by him oft — Twining with fingers soft her cypress wreath ; But clouds that shadow the dark world beneath, Show silver linings when he soars aloft ; — Envy may tempt him with the bauble gold. And Want, with feeble voice so faint and cold. Whisper of woes unnumbered — say he must Fetter that ever-roving heaven-born mind ; Bind that proud spirit — subtle as the wind, And grind that magic Thought to useful dust. But oh, those voices, breathing through the night. Waft him to Paradise on pinions light I His is a noble heritage — Kind Fate Smile on him ! — Guardian Genii round him wait ! 53 THE AWAKENING OF LIBERTY. Light 'mid the world's dark shadows ! Through the clouds Outbursting with a rosy halo; as when Mom Peers from the folds of her Night-Mother's shroud — Smiling through darkness on the day new-born. Thou comest, like some Bird of Paradise, Fluttering its sunny wings so tenderly, Stirring the rapt soul with thy loveliness, Spirit of Liberty ! AVeary Earth hails thy coming ; — With what might Rolls the deep tide of being at thy feet ! Its heaving billows panting at the sight In bright foam circles — passionate to greet 54 THE AWAKKNING OF LIBERTY. Thy regal presence — Labor's peerless Queen ! Restore the Eden of Humanity Unto the World's sere heart — with joy serene, Celestial Liberty ! Poland awaits thee ; Sad, ill-fated land ! Ah ! not extinguished yet, its hero flame ; And Hungary, tomb of a martyr band — Brave I-Iungary ! glory-gemmed gallant name : — Old Rome looks up to her Italian sky, Her lofty domes outstretched to welcome thee : Oh, Hearts expand, like flowers when summer 's nigli, 'Neath thy light, Liberty ! From his high throne proud Jura looks and smiles O'er the land hallowed by the name of Tell ; The bright dawn, of which Patriots dreamt erewhiles, Will glow in radiance where they bled and fell. Greece — home of Science, cradle-place of Song, Nurse of the Spartan hearts, fearless and free, Strains her old eyes to view, through turgid Wrong, Thy lost light. Liberty ! The far-off West hath heard a cheering cry, And dried her tears amid her sore distress ; 53 THE AWAKENING OF LIBERTY. Mild Hope went, lark -like, singing up the sky, From the dire swamp of Slavery's wilderness ; — The echoing air bore surges of the song, The shackled trembling Captive bent his knee, For, Christ-like, walking o'er the waves of Wrong, He saw thee. Liberty ! Gladness shall thrill throughout the Earth — East, West, Shall blend their praise, in one exultant voice ; Quickly will beat the pulses of the oppressed — How will the Slave, long trodden, crushed, rejoice ! The sad Old-World cast off" her mourning robes, Wave her glad banners proudly o'er the sea, — Sparkle the New- World's eyes, like Morn's dew-globes, In the sun, Liberty ! The muffled music of the Heart's mute strings Shall startle Silence at thy magic touch ; And Heaven-ward waft Elysian melodies To the bright throne of Him, who formed thee such. The exile, Soul regain its palace-home — Life's tree long flowerless bloom immortally — God's thoughts smile upward thro' the bursting gloom, Revealing Liberty ! THE AWAKENING OF LIBERTY. Wrecked hoary Tyranny in dust shall ret — That once despotic monarch of the World, — The power that dealt such cruel blows forgot, His sword of flame to far oblivion hurled ; Unshackled now the Bondsmen of his wrath, (Stirring within each spirit, Deity), Shall write the words "No more!" his epitaph, By thy light, Liberty ! " No more " the powerless man, despised and weak, — Shall quench the glowing seraph-fire in tears, Wringthe Heart's life-blood, blanch the withered cheek, And wear the sinews out in servile fears ; No more a crouching drudge in Mammon's mine — Thy glorious light dawns from Eternity ; He'll rise, the Poor man. Manly at thy shrine. Goddess of Liberty ! From the dull ashes of the valiant hearts Who proudly leapt to death through gory seas. Fresh flowers, a coronal for Truth, upstarts. Like bursting buds, when Spring-days warm the leas. Our Father-land shall greater, nobler, rise ; As, after Winter's sleep, earth's greenery, — The echoing shout awake the startled skies. Hail, Heaven-born Liberty ! 57 THE AWAKENING OF LIBERTY. The clarion voice arouse the slumbering worid, And re-assure faint drooping Adam's sons, — Freedom's white banner, o'er the Earth unfurled. Proclaims bright Liberty — She comes ! She comes ! Plants from the clod up-shoot of Sovereign Truth, In the waste places, let them blossoiti free, — Tour hearts shall summer in eternal Youth, Children of Liberty ! Light 'mid the world's dark shadows; — Mightily Strike the cold darkling sod ; Break Beauty's calm, Burst into myriad ripples Life's dull sea, Attune the silent hills to a sweet psalm ; The resurrect! on -morn of buried hopes Soon through the misty clouds beam gloriously ; Breathe on the dry-bones — Renovate the clay. Spirit of Liberty ! 58 THE DEATH OF DAY. Hush ! roving Winds, breathe softly — Day is dead! To wrap him in his shroud, dark solemn Night Leading back Silence ; with slow stealthy tread Descendeth from her lofty "Watch-tower's height. And all is still — Nature's bright transport fled — All still, save tremblings faint of forest leaves — Earth's winsome smiles are flown ; for Day is dead, - All still, save the deep sighs old Ocean heaves. The thronging Shadows, through the heavenly clime, Followed by Stars — a train of brilliancy — Are bearing him away beyond Time's bounds, To his lone tomb, in far Eternity. 59 THE DEATH OP DAY. Methinks from flowerets pale, from hoary oaks, The mournful words, grief-stricken, David's wail, " Thou'lt not return to me ! " — comes low but clear, Like dying music, sighed upon the gale. It was a Sabbath ! God's free day of love ! Who dared, with vice, its purity to stain ? Whose heart-prayer echoed to the realms above ? The day is past — its deeds will yet remain. Oh, holy hour ! Thought-loving hour sublime ! The Spirit breathes on our rebellious will ; Each breeze seems Angels' soundingwings through Time, Lifting our souls to Heaven ; deep, calm, and still ! Yet morn will dawn ; Waking Earth joyous look — With smiles forget the yester-morn's bright ray ; Will Man forget ? On the recording Book The Angel noted down, " The Death of Day." 60 MEMORIES. Oh! memories of Childhood's friends are twined around my heart ; Wreathed in a chain whose sparkling links after-years cannot part; — ■ Sharers of little griefs and joys, all through the chequered day, Loved thoughts of you — Oblivion's vnng can never sweep away ! Companions of my childish games, whose friendship knew no doubt. Oft have our voices mingled in school-day's merry shout ; We've wandered the meads together, we've culled the water-flower, — Heard the wild song-birds in the glen chant from their leafy bower ; With thoughts pure as the morning dew, and hearts as fuU of joy As the singing lark that hymns his praise to God in yon bright sky ; — Much-loved light-hearted school -fellows; Where, oh! where are ye nowf Some in far lands, I ween, and some on ocean's rugged brow ; Some, ah ! mani/ in Spirit-land, that realm of lasting light. Concealed from us by Time's dark veil, andDeath's mysterious night ! 61 MEMOniES. Voices are ringing in my ears, loving hands are clasped in mine, — Shadows rise before me, the ghosts of olden time ! I'm bounding o'er the smooth green sward, with spirits free and wild, My comrades shout, and dear old friends hail me once more a child! — But no, no, it was all a dream! the vision passed away, — Sorrow and change have been with me, since the bright golden day When earth, and sea, and sky looked glad, all nature smiled on me, — The tall old trees in waving woods, and flowerets on the lea ; The feathered choristers, that seem to feel the joy they give, All sang, "To live is blessedness, 'tis blessedness to live !" And / could but echo back the song of a happy world like this, (Childhood's heart leaps with some innate, glad consciousness of bliss.) — The illusion fled : Youth's bright hours came trooping gaily on — With vague regrets, that ever blend with hopes of the To-come.: Fluttering Thought said, "Live to what end ? to sweat and toil for gold ?— Or waste a life in useless dreams, wake, find yourself grown old ?" And Conscience whispered, "Ah ! take heed, or thou wilt starve the Strnl!" Alas ! I saw the World forgot, "the grave was not life's goal;" But wandered darkling over Earth, smit with the plague of gold; — Whose rank pestilential breath breeds Avarice dank and cold ; G2 MEMOKIES. Freezing the fountains of the heart, hard as droar Autumn's bier, Binding, with adamantine chains, the Angel-Stranger here. Nature yet speaks ; Lo ! Night hath thrown her mantle over Earth ; — Loud Trade is hushed, and Silence creeps into the halls of Mirth : While seated on her throne, Night tells the universe of stars, Of awful things which she hath seen — of Wrong, of Pride, of Wars ! Uncrowned she sitteth now, robed in a sable garb of woe, And speaketh of a world where Sin hath hidden Truth's bright glow ;— The pale Moon came forth to listen ; and all the orbs above Heard Night say, "Your poor Sister Earth hath lost the name of Love :" Her children, full of hate, crush and jar against each other — There's little of thatfeeling left which says, "I'll help thee, brother! " Heaven oped her trembling eye-lids, and looked down where old Earth slept ; Night said, "Oh ! Truth and Love may call, she'll list not," — here Night wept. To me trees clap their leafy hands, and wave in joy no more ; Honeysuckled hedgerows are not so fragrant as of yore; Why, why ? I ask this heart of mine, the sunbeams are as bright, Though clouds oft gather o'er the sky, they stiU are fringed with light ;- G3 IJEMOEIES. Oh ! wreath of Memory still fair, still beautiful thou art, Thou shalt not wither like pale flowers, that bloom but to depart ; My early friends, Thought's mirror still reflects ye as ye wei-e, Careless as the wild mountain breeze, free as the mountain air ! But much I fear me that on each, erst candid, cloudless brow. The World hath set its signet-mark — distrust, doubt, cold scorn, now ; — The lights of smiles dance o'er those eyes, like wild-fire o'er a bog, Truth beams but dimly, as a star obscured by mist and fog ; — Then let me cherish memories, all glad, and fresh, and bright. As waves of laughing streams that dance in summer's noon-day light. Come, Brothers, Sisters, trim anew Love's lamp, ere its last ray Goes out on Earth, and we have slept the dreamless sleep in Clay ; — That which aspires grows brighter, — Smoke poured forth of murky hue, Rises clear and silv'iy in air, then melts into the blue ; — Thus, Brothers, let the Earth-stained soul soar from the clammysod. Ascend, still brighten, till at last it meets its glorious God ! Wipe the gold-dust from our blinded eyes, and, like eaglets to the sun. With steadfast gaze, soar upwards, till Heaven's blissful shores are won ! M THE CHILD'S GRAVE. Loud roared the ruthless tempest-king Across the dreary wold, While from the lonely ivied tower The solemn death-knell tolled : — Where darkly o'er the coffined dead The old yew, like a pall, Its sombre branches widely spreads, Close to the church-yard wall — The little one was laid to rest In slumber long and deep — The burial train dispersed ; to homes Of joy went some, and some to weep ; Little Willie, merry play-feUow ! They left amid the graves ; 63 THE CHILD S GRAVE. To sleep where winds loud wailings blend With music of the waves ; — Sorrow that chiUs the heart's warm blood And drains tear-fountains dry ; — Wild Woe, that blows our hopes to shreds, Like clouds through Autumn's sky ; — Death's frost, that nips the tender bud, And spares the shiv'ring leaf ; Ye are the sternest foes of Man, Chequering Life with grief ! — Oh ! little Willie, beauteous child, The fondest, youngest born. We listen for thy silvery voice. Noon, eve, and dewy morn — We are waiting for thee, Willie, ^Vnd wilt thou never come ? Like broken harp-strings, must our hearts For ever more be dumb ? — The snow had left the mountain side To its bright robe of green ; — And here and there a speck of blue Through the grey clouds was seen — GG THE CHILD S GRAVE. It was the time when copse and glade, And sunny slanting hills, Echo the prattling babble of A thousand tiny rills ; — We stood beside the little grave, And wept, and called the child— ^ The sunshine gleaming through the yew's Broad arms, gleamed on, and smiled — Winds sweeping through the winking boughs, Shaking away each tear — Like the Angel at the grave of old, Wliispered, "He is not here !" — There was a glory everywhere : — Hawthorn trees were budding. And all the giant forest oaks Leafy garlands weaving, To crown the sweet young virgin May, When from eastern bowers The sunny Hours would lead her ; Earth Strew her pathway with flowers ; And golden king-cups on the leas The merry fairies find, 67 THE CHILD S GKAVE. And spangled threads of gossamer "Wave in the gentle wind. Once more from Afric's sunny clime Returned the wandering swallow ; — Resounding through the deU was heard The cuckoo's music mellow : The meadow-plains were wildly gay, Fresh touched with Flora's wand — And a blissful living Eden, Seemed all the smiling land — And on our little WiUie's grave The lily's tiny bells, And daisy, with its crimson crown, Waved in the zephyr's swells; The daisy shook its little head, And from the lily's breath A voice arose, or seemed to rise, " ye of little faith !" 68 THE BEAUTIFUL. A SPIRIT wanders through the world, Lingering 'mid the Hours, Wafting light odours, as of old, In Paradise' green bowers ; — With the same beaming smile that shone On morn of Nature's birth ; 'Tis the spirit of the Beautiful, Bright Angel of the Earth ! It hovers o'er the hiUside slopes. It wakes the streams to song. And leads the Nymphs and Muses The forest-shades among ; The floating cloud o'er summer's sky To silvery shreds is riven, 60 THE BEAUTIFUL. And the Spirit passes softly, As a still dream of Heaven. Even now I mark its presence — Hark ! the wood-songsters sing ; Mountain-echoes start, and listen To the merry laugh of Spring ; As with light footsteps, fairy-like, She treads the gloomy hours. And culls from Winter's cold turf -tomb A coronal of flowers ! The proud leaf bursts the yielding stem ; The rose and hawthorn bloom ; Old ocean on its rocky beach Murmurs a softer tune ; Blithesome children come to gather Flowers, " Stars " of the soil; And with joy bound homeward, laden With the fast-fading spoil ; — Man — ^the rich — may gaze in rapture, Type of all loveliness ! At thy ever-varying grandeur, Forgetful of distress ; 70 THE BEAUTIFUL. Of all gloom and sorrow heedless, 'Mid the sunshine and the light, Me revels in the Beautiful, And basks in pure delight ; — But Man, the pallid toiler — In City dark and dun, Where smoke shuts out the cooling breeze, Obscures God's brilliant Sun ; — As ceaseless toiling morn and eve. The life-tide in his veins. Pants for the Beautiful to burst Dull Labor's weary chains — The Sabbath dawns — "the poor man's day With glad heart forth he hies Where Nature's hoary turrets tower To the deep azure skies ; Where gurgling rills wind to the main, Where woods are waving free, God of the Beautiful ! he comes, T' adore and worship Thee. The purple-tinted clouds of eve — Soft twilight's misty hue, — 71 THE BEAUTIFUL. Night, when the sparkling starry orbs Peep through the spotless blue ; Earth's glories, countless as the shells On ocean's pebbly strand — All, all display thy magic power, The Beautiful, the Grand ! 72 NEW YEAE'S DAY IN DREAILAID. Like mournful watchers round the bed Of one whose life wanes fast ; The taU old trees stood mute and still — Breath-like, the old year passed — Amid the silence of the night, When winds had sobbed their last. With wreaths of sparkling frost-work crowned, Came in the crisping morn ; — Ere the star-lamps paled in the sky, Another year was born ; Joys budded in the heart, like May's Rich blossoms on the thorn. 73 NEW YEAR S DAT IN DREAMLAND. Oh, with what ecstasy we hailed This happy New Year's day ! Beside our hearth Pain should not come, And Sorrow dared not stay — It was the time our absent one Would come from far away ! — Sounds floated through the misty air, Sweet sounds of merry chimes — Stole softly on my listening ear, Like long-forgotten rhymes, By unseen mystic voices sung — Murmurs of other times. Morn waxed to noon, and noon to eve — Pale eve, so calm and fair — Up the dim valley twilight came. And thou wert with me there — Thou, with thy speaking sea-blue eyes, And sunny clustering hair : — As ivy-plant enrooted in Some dark and crumbling pile. Expands its leaves unto the light, And greener grows the while, — 74 NEAV year's day IN DREAMLAND. I turned to thee, and sunned me in The radiance of thy smile. Thine eyes, so full of love and faith, Beamed on me as of yore ; And thou wouldst rest thyself, and stay. And leave us never more ! — Alas ! such rest the weary wave Finds on the sandy shore : — 'Twas Dream-land ; Time and Space are lost. Those realms own not their sway, — The Eden-gates of Sleep were closed, And ah ! I must not stay — Reality's stern New- Year's morn Rose, misty, cold, and grey. Like Penitence, with bitter tears. Bewailing mis-spent hours ; — A cloud which darkened all the sky, By fits wept drizzling showers ; "Wild gusts of wind, like angry ghosts. Shrieked through the ruined bowers ; 75 NEW year's day in dreajiland. And thou wert, — where ? 'mid fragrant groves Of a far stranger-land — Will no kind greeting reach thee there, Nor clasp of friendly hand ? — And shall we never welcome thee Back to our household band ? — Perchance, dear friend, 'neath foreign skies' Calm and unclouded dome ; Through Night's deep hush, the unsleeping Soul, Mem'ry, and Fancy roam On dreamy wings to this old land, And New- Year's day at home ! 76 THE MERRY HEART OF CHILDHOOD. Oh ! what a blissful thing Is the merry heart of Childhood ; — Free as the lightsome breeze Playing in leafy wildwood — Glad as the leaping waves 'Mong the tangled sea-weed locks — Wild as the fearless bird That nestles amid the rocks. Oh ! what a sunny thing Is bright Childhood's love-lit smile ! Bright as sun-rays that gild The banks of some beauteous isle, — 77 THE MERRY HEART OF CHILDHOOD. Bright as the Visions of sleep That hallow infant eyes ; Bright as the blooming flowers, Or the dews of Paradise ; — Oh, what a joyous thing Is Childhood's heartsome laughter ! Brimful of music sweet, As silv'ry rippling water ; — List to the ringing tones — Ringing like clear-sounding bells, Elysian carolling bliss, Through their rising cadence swells. And oh ! in Childhood's day With what thoughts the soul is stirred ! What mystic voices speak, In rapturous tones, — unheard Save by the infant-soul — Of old primeval Eden — Thoughts come softly whispering Of God, of Home, of Heaven ! Why should that heart grow sere ? Why should fade that sunny smile ! THE MERKY HEART OF CHILDHOOD. Why die with the Years, the laugh '? Oh ! why should the World beguile / While the soul, with weary wings, Child, loves not joys of thine, — The erring spirit sees The gathering shades of Time. Oh ! but to feel again Like yon gladsome child at play, — Watching the restless birds, Restless and gay as they — To think pure Childhood's thoughts, To feel its spirit-glow ; Ere, heaving parting sighs, I fade from the life below ! 7!) CHRISTMAS IS COMING ! Christmas is coming ! and beauteous as morning Brightly to Dreamer's wan eye-lids unfolden ; It comes to the free heart ; The glorious adorning, Crown of the merry old year, glad and golden ; Then weave we the green box, and twine up the holly ; Once more its red berries hang over the hearth ; Dear homely old custom, deride not as folly — Old Christmas is coming, with joyance and mirth ! Ay, "Christmas is coming!" When last it was uttered Shrill war trumpets woke the black eagle's fierce cry — Thund'ring destruction, the hoarse cannon muttered ; Arms clanking, swords clashing, rang thro' the far sky ; 80 ' CHRISTMAS IS COMING ! While sons, friends, and brothers, Death's dark tide were breasting — Who then could be merry 1 while gallant ones bled ! God be thanked ! the stained sword in its scabbard is resting, Peace smUes, now grass waves o'er the graves of the dead. Old Christmas is coming ! But dimly the fire-light, Fantastic and ghostlike plays on the wall, In full many a home, where faded the love-hght. Grim Sorrow broods over the hearth like a pall ; The sweet-toned Bird of Happiness never-more sings ; Sighs from soul-depths are heaved, and bitter tears shed, — Young Gladness hath flown, and Peace folded its wings ; Ah ! though Christmas is coming, it brings not the Dead ! Bleak Christmas is coming ! Cold hooded and darkling, The long hours creep slowly where stricken ones pine ;• — Gay Christmas is coming ! and bright eyes are sparkling Where Wit peals its jokes o'er the clear ruby wine ; There Childhood is happy ; Youth joyous, and quicker. Through theAged one's blue veins, now courses the blood; — - While the Children of Poverty listen, and wonder. Through the dull wintry night, if there can be a God ! 81 6 CHKISTMAS IS COMING ! Old Christmas is coming ! Forget not the homeless, 'Mid music and pleasure, and revelry's did ; — Those wandering ones, lonely, life-weary, and loveless, Who, Arab-like, traverse the desert of Sin ; — While Wealth's board is creaking, say, say, shall these perish? Shall Hunger's cold fingers their life-fountain freeze ? Forget not the homeless, the fainting one clierish ; Oh, Christmas is coming ; but sadly to these ! Blithe Christmas is coming ! May joy in our bosoms Bid Care's brooding shadows, and dim fears depart — And hopes, glad and pure, wave in bright cluster blossoms. Like snow-drops of ■n-inter, 'neath sunshine of heart — Oh, joy ! though the Old Year is waning and dying, And outside, the angry Winds drive the cold sleet. Warm Friendship shall live, the World's I'ude blasts defying — Old Christmas is coming ! And loved ones shall meet. 185G. 82 THIS IS DEATH. Close the dim glassy eyes, They will beam on us no more ! The sUghtly-parted lips still wear the smile they woi-e When rich carnation'd with the hue of Life ; — But from a world, where storms are rife, God bade the spirit soar Away beyond the skies ; — No more the light warm breath Shall, surge-like, come and go ! What wouldst thou to thy much-loved Sister speak f Bend low, Whisper thy words, or thunder in her ear ; Ah ! motionless, she will not hear — 83 (i-2 THIS IS DEATH. Deaf, deaf to friend or foe, Sorrow or joy beneath ! — What mortal tongue shall say, "WTiat course upon its flight Tlie unfettered Spirit took ? Through realms of night, By flaming Seraphs led upon its way, And strains angelic — Did it leave its Clay Welcomed by smiles of Light, To bliss and endless Day ? — Silent ; nor sign nor word Hath reached us from that land; — Nor of the myriads, countless as the sand. That left Time's shores for the Eternity, Hath one returned, to tell the mystery Of Doom — or of that band In presence of the Lord : This is a rest that waits Th' Archangel's note — A sleep AU dreamless — Storms may sweep Creation's depths ; but this they cannot wake ; — Nor Earth, although her mountains quake. Rouse ; till the last dawn peep Through Heaven's bright gates ! 84 THIS IS DEATH, Freedom from pain and grief ; — All crosses — ^sprrows cease ; Nor ever dare to mar this last, calm peace ! The Monarch of Fears ! King of the world beneath Reigns here — tread softly — this is Death ! — A Vict'ry — the release Endless — the struggle brief ! We too hasten onward : — Life, that like streamlet mild Rippled at first, at length will roar, a torrent wild. And bear us swiftly on its foaming wave, Until we sink in the deep caverned Grave ; — After Time's storms — the tomb be rest ! And the Soul's unknown flight Be God -ward — Heavenward ! 85 MOVE ON. The murm'ring river hastens on, Seeking its ocean-home; Tides, ever-surging, ebb and flow, "Winds o'er earth ceaseless roam ; Winter scarce leaves our sea-girt isle, Ere the life-giving Sun Beholds the smiling infant Spring ; — Untiring — All move on. Move on ! Fair Summer quickly flies — Autumn, with sere decay Spreads over all — Night soon enshrouds The longest, brightest day. 86 MOVE ON. Along the wondrous chain of Time — Links added one by one, A bridge from Earth to Spirit-]and, We soon must pass — ^Move on ! The mighty mission of the Soul — Oh, were it understood ! Then would our dreary world appear Like Paradise the Good. Blest be the man! that can uplift The plodding weary one From earth — point out his heritage — Shall we not try — Move on ! Friends, let us the blinding gold-dust "Wipe from our care-worn eyes ; — Waken the Soul from trance-like sleep, For much within us lies ; The highest rank Earth can bestow, Fame, Glory, to be won, Is far beneath the loftt/ Soul — Earth is not Home — Move on ! The God-like, King-souls of all Time Hover above us now, 87 MOVE ON. Beckoning us on to twine a -wreath For Freedom's noble brow : The eternal flashing star of Truth, O'er darkling Earth shines on — Bidding us follow in the track Of mighty spirits gone ! Ah ! from afar I see the dawn Of a bright glorious time, When earth shall smile in radiance Unmarr'd by sin and crime ; When Strife and Hate shall pass away, Li lie mists 'fore morning's sun ; The Immortal Principle of Eight Rule over all — ^Move on ! For that good time the clarion cry Calls us, " Uprouse ye, then!" With lightning-thoughts, with thunder-deeds, Labor with Press and Pen I'ntiringly — there's rest in Heaven When the bright goal is won : The watch-word of the Brave and Free Should ever be — " Move on !" THE EDEN OF LOVE. Where is Love's Eden ? On what spot of Earth ?- In the East, the bright land of morning's birth ? Or the golden climes, where the setting sun Sinks to rest when his brilliant goal is won "? — Is it far away in some happy isle, Where roses of summer for ever smile — 'Neath the soothing shade of the lofty palm, Where breezes blow laden with sweetest balm. Where the glad leaping billows with murmur deep Are lulling the calm leafy shores to sleep ? — Ay, all may be bright, 'neath that azure dome, Yet that is not Eden — ^Love's blessed home ! The lark soareth high in the morning air. Far, far 'bove the snowy-white cloudlets fair ; 89 THE EDEN OF LOVE. He is singing now, lost to mortal view, In some nook in yon heavenly arch of blue — Scattering musical snatches of bliss, O'er climes a thousand times fairer than this ; But, list ! for the sweet sounds are floating near, 'Tis the bird of the sky, hastening here ; He descendeth now to his grassy nest, To his birdie blithe — loveliest and best ; And the lark retumeth e'en from above. For this is his home — Ms Eden of Love! Love calls no clime his own, — To him as bright Dark Laplandian hills, as Persian vales light, If there a warm heart vibrates to his own, He heedeth not — feeleth not, in what zone ; — He may rove o'er the wide, far fields of life. Be lost awhile, 'mid Trade's turmoil and strife ; 'Mid the crash and the clanking of War — Be hurled O'er the waves of the ever-surging world ; — But see the all-potent magical art Of the pure ark of home ! To one loved heart He retumeth, like Noah's wing-weary dove ; For the heart is the home, and the Eden of Love. 90 LIGHT IN DARKNESS. " Sorrow not as those witliout hope." Sorrow not overmuch, Children of grief However darksome, and however sore, — Though Time bring no kind cordial of relief. If gentle Hope be thine — Hope silvers o'er, With holy light, the flooding tide of Woe ; — And as some troubled river's rapid waves Reflect a radiance from the crescent bow Of Night's fair Queen — though 'round the storm- wind raves, And sullen Desolation resteth there, Throned in deep gloom — Yet Ether's fields afar 91 LIGHT rS DARKNESS. Bear on their azure front a happy star, That gleaming on the ebon crest of Night, Tells doubting, cloud-veiled worlds, their " God is Lisht!" BEAUTY AND JOY. Ye linger not here on this earth, I ween ; But ye garnish woods with silvery sheen, And ye light up the wolds with a rosy glow. When sunbeams glisten o'er "Winter's snow ; — Yet while Eve decks her tresses with pearly dew, Joy is waving his hand in a fond adieu ; And Beauty is gone on a western cloud, While Change foldeth hiUs in a misty shroud. Ah ! Beauty and Joy, far in leafy bowers Shall we seek you ; amidst the sweets of flowers ? Or in tangled wild-woods of forest shades — Or walking the valley's pleasant glades ? 93 BEAUTY AND JOY. Or 'mong sea-weed, graceful as Nereid's hair, With pinky shells, 'broidering your pleasant lair, On some lone rocky pyramid, rising free From the dancing waves of a summer sea 1 Beauty and Joy, why haste ye away ? Like Iris' hues of an April day ; Or meteor's gleam, ye glance o'er the heart, And our faint eyes but see your forms depart. Ye have a home too, Twin-spirits bright — A soarin gfolnlw ff from mortal sight I thought had found it ; so blithe his lay, As he winged his flight on his trackless way — So full of joyance, greeting this morn ; — But, ah me ! he returned to wail forlorn, Back to earth 'mong the tasseUed corn O'er a nest despoiled, and young ones torn ! Thus ever here, — ^All must soon forego The gay notes of joy, for sounds of woe ; Yet, from Cotter's hut to Monarch's hall, 'Bove the world's din, somewhere, Joy singeth to all. 94 BEAUTY AND JOY. And ye have a home — oh, ye have a home ! Where sighing and sorrow can nevermore come : Blest bearers of hope, unto mortals given. Of the glory and light of Eternity's Heaven ! THE SUN 'S BEHIND THE HILLS. Though frost may bind in icy chains The surface of the stream — The restless under-current still Ripples with sparkling gleam : Hope on ! Again shall glow the spring-tide light, Whose fragrance balm distils ; Winter wiU quickly pass ; cheer up, The Sun 's behind the hills !— Let not despair o'ershadow thee ; Look at the gladsome lark, He, when the glorious evening fades, Still through the frowning dark Hopes on, 96 THE SUN S BEHIND THE HILLS. And ere the sleeping Dawn awakes, Ether's wide plain he fills With ringing carols ; telling Earth " The Sun 's behind the hills !" Oh, never yet was lonesome night But some meek kindly star, The Angel Hope's bright messenger. Shone silvery afar ; Hope on ! Though slow and long the dismal watch, Though fraught with countless ills ; Cheer up ! 'Twill all be over soon. The Sun 's behind the hills ! A FAREWELL TO THE YEAR 1857. Silence rests on earth below ; The midnight winds are sighing low — And we will out and see thee go — Watch thy departure ! Brave old Year ! Loved heretofore — Another comes ; thy course is o'er — And oh ! we fear, heart-sick and sore, That unknown future ! For-ever, take we leave of thee ? Or, somewhere in Eternity, Wilt thou — thoughts, feelings, actions — be Sweet Mem'ry's essence f A FAREWELL TO THE YEAR 1857. And disencumbered of the clay — All worldly woes long past away — We'll meet thee in the realm of Day, A living presence ? Fading Tear ! we hailed thy birth With gladsome hearts and happy mirth — Yes, and with thee in Sorrow's dearth, When fell Griefs banish Light from bright eyes ; — We've stood beside The bed of Sickness, there descried Friends struggling in Death's swelling tide, Swept down and vanish ! We may hail many a Winter's rime ; Spring, Summer's roses, Christmas chime — But " fifty-seven " (thy name in time) Will yet be dearer, Whene'er by chance it strikes my ear. Yes, though it start the sudden tear — Than to the leafless forests drear (Pale Autumn's cheerer) 99 u2 A FAEEWELL TO THE YEAE 1857. The red-breast's gay and sprightly note — . Gurgles of brooklets learnt by rote, Stirring amid that tiny throat A faint remembrance Of rosy morns, and purple eves, — Of flower-clad meads and nodding leaves — With harvest-homes, and golden sheaves, And old acquaintance! — But ah ! 'tis tvp^elve — and sad and slow The old clock warns us ; — to and fro Trees wave good-bye to " long-ago," The dismal death-knell Startles the midnight's frosty air, — Whilst thou, past the last starry stair. Old Year, ascendest up, up there — Farewell, a long farewell! 100 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. ' How wilt thou do in the swellings of Jordan ?" Holt Wkit. He stood upon the confines of a world Of care, and doubt, and pain — O'er the half Earth Lay spread the sable covering of deep Night — The Wind — Spirit's sublimest emblem — roared Through the woods; hoarsely and furiously Swept o'er the plain, where huddled lay in flocks The timid sheep, and frighted droves of kine — •■ And speeding up the lone deserted road, Whirled the wild hedge-row blossoms from their stems,- Rattling with fitful gusts old crazy huts, Whose wattled chimneys long had borne the brunt 101 THE CIIEISTIAN S DEATH. Of savage storms — ^Wild wind ! — away it went, Stirring to mimic waves the stagnant pools ; Rounding the hill, careering through the dale. Up the green shady lane 'tween hazel trees ; — Muttering fiercely at the Poor man's door. 'Twas midnight, girt around with frowning clouds- With scarce a star to cheer the saddened earth. A narrow casement shows a light within, A feeble taper struggles to chase back The looming darkness of the humble room, Where, on a lowly pallet stretched, Disease AVorked hard to break the precious silver cord Of Life's warm fountain. — Deep was the valley, shadowed o'er By feai-ful darkness — Silent, deep, and dark ; But hark ! there is a rushing sound Of waters, dashing, surging, somewhere down The dismal cold ravine — ^Listen ! that vale Is called "The valley of the shadow, Death" And that loud river there "The swelling Jordan." And he, a human spirit, must pass down The awful vale, pass through the gate of Fears, 102 THE CHRISTIAN S DEATH. And lo ! he falters not ; but with a smile, A happy smile upon his pallid face, A heavenly brightness lighting up his eyes — He casts a farewell glance on earthly things: — And he hath passed adown the murky path ; Louder and louder in his ear resounds The rushing waters ; — Still the shadow broods And circles all around — but as his feet Touch the deep river's edge, a glorious light Enkindles from beyond — Now he can see The foaming waves, and, with his rod of Faith, Feel the unfailing rock beneath — ^Brighter Grows the Light — glows — ^broadens into Day — As blissful echoes of Angelic strains Deafen the roar of waters ! And he hath passed into a land of light — Passed through where mortal dare not follow. 'Twas Morn on Earth ; and perfumes, sweet As spice of Araby, were breathed around — The silent sighs of myriad flowery plants Made odorous the air of tender Spring ; — And sparkling dew-drops were exhaled to Heaven, 103 THE CHEISTIAN S DEATH. To glitter there in cloudlets snowy white, Or rich-hued rainbows beautiful. "Iwas Morning in the busy bustling world — That tiny drop of great Humanity; The poor old man ; the Christian Kingly Soul — Was lost to earth ; and neighbours gathered round The Clay, and in full-hearted sympathy Cried, "Oh ! our Friend, our Brother ! Ah, And did he die!" 104 THE WORLD'S FAVORITE. "A poor wise man is like a sacred book that's never read" Deckek. In this hard slippery world It is not he — the kind good man, whose Soul Is lit with wisdom from the heavenly heights, — Who lends a helping hand unto the weak, And, like the good Samaritan, pours oil Into the wounds of the unfortunate — That's lauded most — The Worldling vieweth such With the same admiration as some star He sees there twinkling in the blue remote ; — " All well to look upon, and bright,'' saith he, " But then for use — stars, — Stars are too nigh heav'n, So give me gaslight " — ^Nor yet is it he, 105 THE WORLD S FAVOIilTE. Who creeps unnoticed, calmly, meekly on With sweetest smile serenely down to Death ; — But he — the cat-like, velvety-paced man, Who climbs and climbs — and falls — and climbs again — Clinging to anything within his reach, — And though he fall, falls ever on his feet — Still ready for another start, — For Mm There's nought too low, or long, or tedious — Cat-like ; yes, the analogy is clear — A long dark night of unremitting watch Tires not his patience, — ^with a mouse in view — Many-lived Man !— Though battered oft — ne'er killed. Till the last stern strong Tyrant drags away, — Ere he hath time with equity to deal Unto his anxious heirs his weight of wealth — And warn them not like thankless dogs to snarl, And let Law cudgel them to peace again ; — Death drags away the Rich, Successful man ; The Idol of this happy, gifted age. 106 AUTUM. The Autumn mists hang over wood and wold ; — Songsters seem dreaming in tlie dripping brake ; While Morning ushers in, through damp and cold, Day's half -veiled chariot ; O'er the glassy lake The listless flags droop wearily ; — Old orchard trees Are gay, while peeping through the mottled leaves Are red-cheeked apples, waiting for a breeze ; — Plenty reigns everywhere — The golden sheaves Safe garnered — Autumn laughs, while round his head The Hours twine poppy-flowers, white and red. 107 AUTUMN. T turn to watch a swallow leave its nest — Its mud-built home beneath our granary eaves, It grieves to bid adieu — ^but on the crest Of yon dark sky it reads of storms ; dead leaves Rustle a tale of forests tempest-tost — Of wintry days, with blackening clouds and rain ; Of hail, and snows, of sleet, and biting frost — Of blank decay— famine, and woe, and pain ! Ha ! little swallow, I must see thee go — Thou leav'st our humble homestead, for a clime More sunny than these lands, where winds oft blow : Thou seek'st the land of myrtle, palm, and lime, — But many are the dangers of the deep — Wild ^olus rough, may there in madness rave ; — Ocean is terrible, e'en when lulled to sleep ; — How dreadful then in fury 1 — Many a cave Of gloom and death it hath — Thy cry of pain. Or faint sweet tone of joy, when far away Will ne'er be heard — On the deep-sounding main The petrel's shriek, or sea-mew's note when Day 108 AUTUMN. Breaks from the East, will echo on thy track ; — But thou art flown ! adieu, poor Bird ! Some morn when Spring's sweet music 's heard, And blossoms scent the gale, I'll hope to see thee back. 109 EVENING. Beautiful is Eve ! Fairer than Noon or Night ; She cometh from the burnished halls Where the sun sinks to rest ; Her footsteps leave a purple glow Upon the feath'ry clouds ; — Beautiful is Eve ! Beautiful is Eve ! The patriarchal hills Smile as they watch, through rain-bowed mists, Her queenly form ascend the pathless skies i Smiling benignly on the ebon King, 110 EVENING. Who lays his bright star-treasures at her feet, And calls the young Moon from her azure couch, To light her to her rest in heaven ; — After Life's weary day Tranquillity like this, Spread o'er the even of my years, When Night is creeping on ! Herald a dawn more glorious — And leave a holy glow, Beautiful as Eve ! Ill THE WILD, WILD WAVES. Oh, a gladsome song, the wild, wild waves Chant to the glistening shore, As they gaily dance from their ocean caves While the sunlight flashes o'er ; — They have laughed round many a green-robed isle ; And grey rock where sea-weed grew — Whispered their joy to each coral reef That rose from the waste of blue ; — They have mingled those tones, for the song is old. With sounds of each onward Age Hast'ning, ere Death's clouds o'er it rolled. To the goal of its pilgrimage — 112 THE WILD, AYILD WAVES. Years — a thousand past, its cadence clear Was heard by the hosts of Time ; Still will it strike on the Future's ear, When the dust has deafened mine ! In the sun the restless billows play, — And leap from their ocean lair — Away they speed on their joyous way, Tossing sparkling spray in the air ! — But a wailing strain, the wild, wild waves Chant to the listening shore. As echoes shriek from their rocky caves. And the sullen storm-winds roar ; — The heart-felt prayer of the sailor-lad, As he clings to the sea- washed deck ; — With cries of the drowning one ; and sad Deep groans from the shattered wreck ; Half stifled moans, and many a sigh — With some weakened svnmmer's gasp. As he faints, he faints though shore is nigh, He sinks in the ocean's grasp ! 113 THE WILD, WILD WAVES. All seem to blend in the woful dirge, The wild waves wail on the strand ; "With loud shouts and songs the dashing surge Hath b9me from some distant land ; — Yet, a glad, glad strain the mimic waves Bear to the summer light ; As though they wist not of myriad graves Deep fathoms below in night ! n+ ODE TO SLEEP Come, Somnus ; come, thou miglity god, And bear me on the smooth bright road Which leads to the enchanted palaces Where Morpheus reigns, with all his fallacies ; — Where the World's friendship is a firm-wrought link, Which from cold Poverty doth never shrink ; — Where Gold is not omnipotent — ^where Life With generous acts and kindnesses is rife — Where favors do not burn like living emberi;, The donor's glance shows ever he remembers — WTiere Might, with shaggy eye-brows, cannot frown The Right to black annihilation down — Where man forgets deceit ; and woman vanity ; — Where piety and " muscular Christianity" 115 I 'I ODE TO SLEEP. Are one — Bring poppy-buds, and let me slake My thirst a moment at the Lethean lake : — Then Morpheus kind, come meet me on the road To thy enchanted and grotesque abode, "\^'here Fancy dwells, amid thy train of fallacies, Thy Queen supreme in rich fantastic palaces. IIG STORM AND CALM. All through the livelong night The lightning flashes bright, Like winkings of an eye of fire, shot o'er the frowning sky;- Quivered athwart the gloom, WMle many an angry boom Rolled thundering from the grand artillery on high : — The stricken earth beneath, Like a child, with stifled breath, That trembling fears to meet an angry father's frown, Scarce stirs her forest trees, While pattering through the leaves In heavy showers the rain-drops hurriedly roll down — At the strange light watch-dogs howl — From yon hollow tree -the owl 117 STORM AND CALM. Hoots slirilly out ; The frightened kine start lowing from their sleep, — While echoes from dark caves "Waken tranquil waves, And lo ! they foam and dash along the midnight deep ! Swiftly the thunder car Pursues its course ; now far In distance dies the sound, — Dark clouds move on their way, But winds in angry strife Rise, and the air is rife AVith sighs, and moans, and spirit-wails, and ere the break of day Many, many a gallant bark, Fai- on the billows dark Floats in broken spars and splinters, — and oh ! beneath the wave, Many a noble head is laid — Many fond hearts' beatings staid, — The loved and loving tossed in a cold unquiet grave ; — And the cheering morning sun, O'er the dreadful havoc done, S|)reads silvery beams of light to gild the dismal scene ; — 118 STORM AND CALM. The winds are hushed to rest, Old Ocean's panting breast Bears but the shattered wrecks tg show where man hath been ! And calm, calm, calm Rises morning, with its balm Of perfumed flowers, and shrubs, and pearly drops of dew ; The bees with merry hum To their honied labour come. And all is gay and bright, as though earth were glad and new. Scarce a trace remains of night, With its terrors and aifright, — While song-birds chant their matin hymn on every budding thorn ; — Thus, Life's loud thunders o'er. The surges on Time's shore Shall still their restless beatings, on a glorious happy morn— And the calm unclouded sky Of the blissful heaven on high Be hailed by Souls immortal, to lasting glory borne, — When earth, and care, and pain, Its tempests, storms, and rain — Shall be changed for climes where flowers bloom for aye, and bear no thorn. 119 THE BRAVE LIVE ON. Wealth often taketh wings and flieth far away, And fluttering gaudy butterflies, the insects of a day — Those flatterers, called friends, with summer flowers are gone. And " the coward sneaks to death, — the brave lives on !" Fell Disappointment cometh, like leaves before the blast, Loved hopes, and schemes, and plans are whii'led into the past, — While the future stretcheth gloomily ; a sea without a sun, " The coward sneaks to death, — the brave lives on !" All along the dreary dark — wild Ruin and pale Fear Awe the poor heart that vainly lists for tones it cannot hear, — For kind voices that might whisper hope have passed him one by one, — And " the coward sneaks to death, — the brave lives on," 120 THE BRAVE LIVE ON. At the humble door stand waiting, with faces grim and bold, Those weird sisters two — Hunger and pallid Cold : — And the palsied heart grows still at thought of what they've done; Then " the coward sneaks to death — the brave lives on !" Crushed Poverty may point from weary years of toil. And show the wicked reveller amid his corn and oil. While icy-handed, blank Despair graspeth pale Misery's son, " The coward sneaks to death, — the brave lives on !" Though with wings swift as an eagle's, when he eyes the god of Day, — "Wealth bear honor, fame, and friends far from his reach away, — Euin and Want affright — ^the victory may be won, For God is with the brave, — ^he labors, and lives on ! 121 BLIGHTED. 'Twas Winter, — Softly and silently the feathery Snow-flakes fell ; as if some spirit bade them Forth with noiseless wing ; — Earth bared her ^vrinkled Brow in reverence ; the grey old trees bowed Low their ancient heads in grave humility ; And holy silence reigned o'er all around ; — In that cold chilly time, A flower, a fragile flower of a pale Pinky hue, half hidden in the snow-drift, Vainly strove to uplift its tiny head Above the ground ; the timid snow-drop weak. And hardy crocus braved the icy breath ; And nestled closer in their milk-white garb ; — 122 BLIGHTED. But that sweet bud, in uncongenial ground, Shrunk from the bitter blast — 'Twas a rare plant ! Had it been fed with Summer's gentle dew, Cheered by warm sun-beams and soft zephyrs mild, It now had blossomed fair, and breathed its Fragrant perfume over all aroimd. A human bud of promise bright, — Born in the cold bleak clime of Poverty ; Breathing the wintry atmosphere of Want, Uprose amid a hard and barren world — A rare exotic from some happy land, A precious seed it seemed, dropped from the hand Of radiant Angel on its homeward flight ; — Like plant which meets the Seaman's wond'ring eye, Up-springing on a lone and rugged rock Amid the wild waste of a heaving sea — It rose aU pure, unsuUied by the gloom, The murky gloom around, with scarce a trace Of the dark weary Earth it journeyed through, — It grew with music ever echoing Around, the sweet-toned music of its home, — The sullen tempest-roar of crime swept by, And other sounds save those of wickedness 123 BLIGHTED. And misery, were ne'er, or seldom heard ; — It rose a glorious thing, although unsunned By smiles of Fortune, or of dazzling "Wealth ; Encircled with a halo from above, Brave in the alien land, its beauteous head It lifted high, and through the dismal clouds Saw kindred forms serenely smiling there ; — And like those flowerets gazing at the sun, That ever as they gaze expand and grow, — Higher it rose, fresher and brighter waved — But oh ! rude blasts of cold Unkindness, keen Satire, cutting Neglect, bitter, biting Calumny, blighted its radiant hue — It withered, drooped, and died. — Oft, oft is Genius nipp'd by words More freezing than frost, by looks colder than Ice, and keener than the sword ! 124 CALM SUMMER NIGHT. Caui Summer night ! God's blessing hovers o'er, — Tired of the Day, Toil's weary watches cease ; Care finds repose, his throbbing fevered brow Fanned by the spirit-wings of holy Peace ; — Flowers have folded their bright glossy cups, — As by a spell from some enchanter's wand Their heads they droop ; and welcome silence creeps With noiseless footfall over all the land ; The clear young Moon is smiling o'er the earth, — - The wavy clouds are white as ocean foam, — The stars look down so bright and tenderly, — Glimpses of glory from th' Eternal home, — 125 CALM SUMMER NIGHT. The aspen leaves move — ^move as in a dream — The lake is sleeping in its pebbly bed ; The moon-rays gleam adown the village street, Gleam on the church, and where repose the Dead ; Silent as thought the gentle dew descends, As in olden time did manna from above ; — Earth seems dreaming of a happier clime Holy and beautiful, where all is love ; — Rest weary world ! Heaven is watching o'er thee, Oblivious of all sorrow, rest in bliss ! Dream till the Hours gild the orient oceans, And ruddy Morning wakes thee with a kiss. 126 WORDS. Oh, Woeds are mighty ! — Links of love that years Have formed into a bright and firm-wrought chain, Which Time, nor Chance, could neither rust nor break, Are riven oft by words, which some call vain — Feelings that with the buried dead would rest Till the Archangel's rousing note is heard. Have started back, swift as the lightning's wing. And lived again, at breathing Of a Word! — Oh, Words are mighty ! — fiery burning thoughts Go forth from out the mind, and form a stair Up which the soul goes journeying back to God, The noblest aspirations, Man calls prayer — 127 WORDS. Words, sighing words, — Heart- words may give us life, And kindle hope full oft in dying eyes — When the poor Thief hung bleeding on the Cross, They oped for him the Gates of Paradise. Oh, Words are mighty ! — The high pomp of state, And regal thrones — though guarded round with swords — Have tottered to the ground 'neath Ruin's lire. Lit at the flaming torch of angry words — And blood hath deluged many a smiling land, Where death lurked watching like a bird of prey, When thoughts unuttered rankled at the heart, And Right and Wrong have stood like beasts at bay. Words are not idle ; no ! — the ruddy cheek Will, at a word, turn wliite as driven snow ; — And oftentimes hot mantling blood will rush And crimson the pale face from neck to brow. Words, call dark horror from its hidden deeps— Words, wake sweet music from the heart's mute chords ; Bring back old tones of by-gone melody To soothe us— Speak not then of idle words ; 128 WORDS. Oh, they are mighty ! — for they own a power Unfathomed, fathomless, as ocean caves — Associations strong as rushing tides, — Happiness clear and bright as sun-kissed waves ; Remember ever, words can deeply wound, Can cleave firm hearts like sharp keen-edged swords ; Can forge a dagger, or a bond of love — Pause, pause then, ere you utter "idle words ! " 129 VI CO. Great soul ! What seekest thou through the long night, Bending in rapt attention o'er the page "Wliich hollows thy dark eye, and dims thy sight, And gives unto thy youth the form of age ? Dost hope from thy lone, humble garret room To trace a name on History's mighty scroll ? To rend the veil of hoodwinked custom's gloom, And the fair characters of Truth t' unrol ? Foreseeing days thy thought high honour wins, — Days when the noble shall explore the mine Of Knowledge — Though thy feeble body thins. And the keen eye grows keener — The divine Soul still grows stronger, — and the thoughts which spring, And startle those around to sudden awe — 130 VICO. Seers shall see ; and future poets sing, Thy words and systems an acknowledged law. Ah me ! To think the petty cares of life Should vex and mar a spirit sucli as thine ; To think, when Ignorance and "Wrong were rife, E'en thou shouldst bow to men whose corn and wine O'erflowed their garners — For thy loved at home, Thy wife and little ones, perforce might pine And find no friend but thee 'neath Heaven's bleak dome Would give them succour — Yes, thy mental power. Thy subtlety of vision, in that hour Must needs be bartered oft, rich thoughts be led, And wrested, ay, and sold for daily bread. And all for Knowledge — Knowledge was, I ween, The ladder which the Patriarch beheld — Its base on the cold, common earth was seen. Its crest by Heaven's own bright arch upheld — ■ Angels ascending, and descending thence, — The marvellous inspirations which oft come ; Prophetic wisdom, songs, and visions, whence The soul holds commune with its spirit-home. Footsore and weary thou didst travel on ; — - No leisure had thy life in lands unkind ; 131 k2 VICO. Footsore and weary — yet, when thou wert gone, Thy guiding words still led ai'ight the blind Dark erring world — Though pillowed on a stone, The active brain beheld, through murkiest night, The gloiious ray of knowledge, all thine own — Claimed kindred with the great, the brave, and free, Then backward sped to the Eternity ! 132 DREAMLAND. The firelight dances on the wall — Sitting in this familiar room, I sadly lift dark memory's pall, And strive upon the gathering gloom, Through mists of tears, once more to trace The features of a much-loved face. Often I try that voice to hear ; That musical, low, pleasant tone — But painfully upon mine ear The silence falls — alone, alone ! No sound throughout the long, blank day Tells me she hovers o'er my way. 133 DREAMLAND. Last night, in sleep, I saw her stand Within our honeysuckle bower — A pale white lily in her hand ; It seemed the tranquil evening hour — So calm, as though to earth were given A foretaste of the bliss of Heaven. Sweet land of Dreams ! no clouds, no tears Bedim the brightness of thy sky — The lingering shadow of the years Unknown, unheeded, pass thee by — Time hath no power to destroy Thy denizens, or blight their joy ! There, the long-lost, beloved ones come — There, clasp we many a vanished hand, — There, gathered i-ound the hearth of home, Meet once again its parted band ; — Oh ! sad to break sleep's magic chain, To leave that hallowed spot. Never to meet those forms again. But roaming o'er Life's stormy main, Find one thought ever haunt the brain, The thought that they are not ! 134 CAMBRIA. '^Breathes tliere tlie man witli bouI so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land !" (Lay of the Last Minstrel.) Awake, harp, for Britain ! Blest isle of the ocean ! Lulled by the waves' never-ceasing commotion, Still chanting of Freedom ; — The theme Of the lone Harper, Wind, as his trembling hands smite The forest-oak harp on a wild wintry night — Thy glistening leaves, and birds through the grove. Exult in the chorus of Freedom and Love Echoed forth by each sea-bound stream. Thy cliffs, as if touched by a silvery wand, Rise white as bright light ; thy strong bulwarks so grand, Albion, fair land of the Free ! — 135 CAMBRIA. Thy fertile green valleys ; thy mountains sublime That rise to the clouds unmouldered by Time, — Thy cascades and streams ; all these I love well, But my spiiit is linked by a rapturous spell To thee, ancient land of Cymru ! Thou once home of Bards ! mighty, noble, and bold, AVho sang of enchantments and legends of old ; Of chivalry, heroes, and v^ar — May thy osiered vales be free from all ills, As the untrodden snov? on the brow of thy hills : Romance stands inscribed on each flowery dell. Tranquillity breathed from each bud's drooping bell ; May nought this tranquillity mar ; Hut Religion with Peace and Science combine, And Wisdom, and Honor, and Justice entwine A wreath that shall evermore shed Its influence o'er valleys and mountains sublime That triumphantly rise, unmouldered by Time — Though all Britain be dear — at Cambria's name i\Iy bosom is kindled with patriot flame. Thou land of the glorious Dead ! Bright cradle of Song ! Dear old country, thy name Emblazoned for ever, exalted by Fame, 136 CAMBRIA. On History's page shall remain ; — How thy dauntless bold heroes, of old, bravely fell For their country and Freedom ; Renown their deeds tell,- Let each child of Cymru adore and revere His ancestors' spirit ; and valiantly rear His banner in Liberty's fane : — For his own " Cymraeg" tongue, as his cheek burns with pride, May each son sweetly blend affection's deep tide With zeal for the land of " Gwalia ;" Brave valiant dead Cymry ! Bards ! Shades of our Sires ! May your faithful, your firm, your unsubdued fires, Your lofty wild spirits, your magical muse. Still glow in our souls, their influence diffuse Inspiration's wand over Cambria ! 137 SUNGLINTS AND SHADOWS. Like soothing sounds of balmy winds, Or wavelets of a river, Thought steals softly o'er the mind, Still moving, moving ever — Bright day of June, in musing mood I sat in that antique room, While the old clock ticked the moments Of a sunny afternoon — Outside, tall poplars' trembling leaves Danced lightly in the breeze, — The grass, like mimic billows, stirred 'Neath those rich-foliaged trees — I watched the restless shadows Flit o'er the chequered floor. Bright and joyous sunlight With shadows dancing o'er ! 138 SUXGI.INTS AND SHADOWS. And thought how upon History's page Recorded acts of Life — Scowled on by the grim foes of man, Famine, Death, War, and Strife Move, darkling night-spots chasing back The glory-lights of Truth — Still they appear, and disappear Like waking dreams of Youth — Sunglints of Peace, Prosperity, — Joy-dancing, radiant gleams, When swords are sheathed, and frowning brows Grow bright as Morning's beams — And thought returned and rested On that polished oaken floor Where the shadow chased the sunglint. Light and shadow o'er and o'er — Old Time, where are the monuments, The temples rich and rare AVhich ancient nations proudly saw Piercing the viewless air ? Are they those hoary shattered heaps Where Chaos fixed his throne — Gaunt Euin and Oblivion laugh Among, and claim their own ? — 139 SUNGLINTS AND SHADOWS. But see, new structures stately rise, And Builders build, and Peace smiles on, And in magnificence arrayed, The New stands where the Old is gone — The Jackall howls o'er a dreary waste, But Cities rise afar — Where forest wildernesses waved. Rolls Trade's triumphal car ; — StUl the poplar shadows gaily waved Across the oaken floor — Bright and joyous sunglints. With darkness dancing o'er. Oil ! summer of the human mind ; The Intellectual sun Shines o'er a land, and mighty thoughts, Soul's heaving waves, roll on — Poet, Statesman, Orator, Philosopher, and Sage Arise, like Stars in Heaven's blue, Lighting the happy age — But stealthily the shadow creeps — The glorious Sun goes down ; Another Age in other lands Soon hails the light its own ; — UO SDNGLINTS AKD SHADOWS. And o'er the great Humanity, As on that oaken floor, — Chasing beamy sunglints, Are shadows dancing o'er. From the first dawn of infant Life, That like a tiny stream Flashes and sparkles onward to Bright Childhood's happy gleam, — To the rushing Life, that river-like Still gathers in its course Th' experience of the weary years ; The strong, soul-powerful force — That tide of Being, surging tide, — That flowing, ebbing sea, Now heaving, ever heaving back To the Eternity— The shadow with the sunshine Flashes, plays, and flashes o'er, Like the shadow of the poplar leaves On the antique oaken floor. Life! Life Past! Life Present! Hope, Despair, Love, Hate, Are the sunshine and the shadow That dance above thy gate ; — 141 SUNGLINTS AND SHADOWS. While the blithe Bird of Joy yet sings Somewhere up in Life's tree, Through darkness and discord listen To the distant melody — On, on the Eternal ages glide, And Sin, in dismal dearth. Chequers the golden light of Truth, As it smiles o'er the fallen Earth. — Still waved the glistening leaves, and oh, Not an idle tale they told. But a type they seemed of the Right and Wrong ; The War, ever new, ever eld — Then wave ye leaves in your wildering dance O'er the polished oaken floor; Smile on, smile on ye sunglints Chase the shadows o'er and o'er ! 142 How oft in the dim night, when tired and worn With multifarious petty cares which make The sum of many a daily life, I wake Ere the glad East shows one bright streak of morn, To hear thy voice in Fancy's musing ear Repeat some happy strain of love and hope, Calming each anxious palpitating fear — While the lorn heart expands, as flowers ope Their eyelids to the day — An Orphic song Is that sweet voice — which wakes to joy the tlirong Of shapeless shadowy thoughts, and words which fain Would make a chaos of the weary brain. 143 LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE. Over thy mouldering walls Hath crept the silent shadow of Old Time ; — Where the harp of old awoke the bardic rhyme, Whistles the wind through desolated halls ; — Proud of its might it shakes the crumbling stone Where the green ivy-plant hath taken root ; And a few lone tufts of wall-flowers shoot To deck the pile ; and wafting o'er the bed Where sunk to rest the crowd of nameless Dead, Each wild breeze scatters 'round the fragrant bloom, Like sweetest incense 'bove the heroes' tomb ; — Hast thou no tale, old Ruin hoary, To tell th' inquiring children of To-day — Recalling ancient years, ere thou wert grey. 144 LLAXSTEPHAN CASTLE. Heroic song or legendary story ? — Or deeds remembered by thy ramparts high When Meredith withstood the Norman train ? — Canst show no trophy of those days gone by ? The A'ictor's shout ; the Vanquished's cry of pain Kecall ? — ^Who reared upon the hill's steep brow The frowning battlements I stand on now, "Where from the turret's height the watchman's eye Descried the rolling bay, the land, the sky ; Saw the Invader's dreaded vessels sweep Like white winged birds across the foaming deep ?- The years have fled — -and trackless as the Sea The course the ages took to Eternity — The Past is dumb — and dim as the To-Be ; — That thou art here, a ruin — all we know ; Builder, Bard, Warrior, dust to dust ere now. 145 SHALL MY SOUL MEET THINE? In the twilight grey I watched for thee — And mused, and sadly mused On what must be ; — Lamp-lit streets grew gay, Glad ones passed along — But my thoughts were far From the throng. A dark day will come, It cometh soon ; My soul shall soar away Beyond the moon ; 146 SHALL MY SOUL MEET THINE ? Beyond the moon and stars Heaven's portals shine — My heart for ever asks, Shall my soul meet thine ? Time's glad years shall pass — Earth will ring With music — Seasons come, Winter — Spring ; When my head rests low 'Neath the mould, Wilt thou laugh, and sing As of old?— Canst thou bring to mind May-day eves, When birdlets chirped and sung 'Neath the eaves ? — When thou wouldst fondly look Heart-love untold — Canst thou bring to mind Eves of old? Shall my soul meet thine ? To leave thee here 147 SHALL MY SOUL MEET THINE "? 'Mid sin, and pain, and woe, And sorrow drear — "Tis sad ! — 'tis sad ! Oh, think When on thy way, I'm watching still for thee At twilight grey ! US SORROW. Is there no shelter in Sahara vast ; No shadow of a rock along Life's way, Where man may rest him in the evil day Until the storm be spent, the Simoom past ? Must devastating tempests wild sweep o'er The crushed heart — that never blossoms more ?- Whirled, like a leaf before the Autumn wind, Man, man, poor atom ! seems of Circumstance The sport — ^his plans, playthings for Fortune blind,- His holiest feelings blighted by the glance Of withering change ; — His treasures dear G-arnered by the Great Reaper, where he may Nor see, nor follow ; — Oh ! along the way 149 SORKOW. Is there no place to fly to from despair ? There must be shelter — God hath told us where. "With thoughtful brow he stood alone, But not to muse of fame — Philosophy with subtle tone His thoughts no more could claim ; Often, of old, the starry skies. With all their silent mysteries, Had been a charmed book, Upon whose page he loved to look ; — But now — but now, With throbbing brow He stands in speechless grief alone ; Pale as a form of sculptured stone — For him the stars might cease to shine, The sun remain unrisen — Nature unheeded droop and pine — Earth had become a prison, And Time the chain to bind him here. From all he valued and held dear. A day had worn — as days will wear, However dark or bright — 150 SOEROW. The first day since Ms Mary's eyes Had quenched their living light ; — The strong man trembled, all his heart Seemed melted into tears ; That summer day had heaped on him The agony of years ! Yet it had been bright to the world, As other days of old — Sunset crept up a western cloud And tipped its edge with gold ; — Through the open window breathed Rich fragrant garden flowers, And wandering humming bees were heard Returning through the bowers ; But, ah ! without, though all was fair, And tranquil in the calm soft air, And that was a mansion rich and rare, "Where the lone one stood with sobbing breatli,- Let him weep ! Let him weep ! For the one he lov'd, hard by doth sleep In the icy arms of Death ! What are pyramids of roses. And all the joys which earth discloses — 151 SORROW. All summer's golden smiles, That with beams light up the isles — When the keen, sure-pointed dart Of sorrow strikes the heart, With stifling breath From the stringed bow of Death ? More welcome now would be The barren blasted tree — The rude north-eastern wifd-wind with its roar. Lashing in fury the forest oak, Whose branches writhe 'neath the cruel stroke ; And blustering along the shore — Anything but the southern breeze, — Anything but the balm Of odorous flowers, in the garden bowers — Anything but the calm ! Ah ! Sorrow, why wilt thou enter in At the gorgeous palace door ? Why wilt thou not seek some pallid wretch. Stretched on straw on his cold mud floor ? No joys hath he, for thee to hide In thy wuding sheet of snow ; Stern Poverty hath been there, and laid 152 SOEROW. The pensive feelings low : — Ah ! Sorrow, art thou the same to all ? Dost thou come with the shroud and sombre pall? Yes, whether the inmates be rich or poor — Lofty or lowly, in cabin or hall. Thou enterest at the door — All pleasure, and all treasure, Becometh worthless, vain — The heart must bleed, for care and clouds Return still after rain. And that manly form -with tearful eyes, Where in smiles he stood of old — Looks with bursting heart to the azure skies, While the blood at his heart grows cold ; And cries, in the depth of his deep despair,^ — " Anything, Lord, but this scene so fair, Anything but this southern breeze ; " As he pressed his brow with feverish palm,— " Wild storm and tempest and foaming seas — Something that will accord with pain- Lord, help me ! — my words are mad and vain — Oh ! anything but this calm !" 153 HAPPINESS. The sunshine on the distant hill To which the mind oft turns with longing gaze ; The ignus-fatuus that deludes the weak Unwary one to danger, gloom, and death ; — Imagination's fairy-land of joy ; — The silver lining hidden in the cloud — The precious pearl in Life's rough troubled sea. For which age after age dives deep — Alas ! But finds not ; — The dazzling light-winged butterfly Of Childhood's day, o'er Freedom's flower-wreathed Hedge-rows, flitting still, away, away ; — The glorious Future — ever a To-morrow ; — Oh, Happiness ! Sister of Peace and Rest, Oh ! Angel Happiness ! Like tired Hagar 15i HAPPINESS. In the days of old, we are athirst, "We faint amid this thorny wilderness, "We die ; — oh. Happiness ! Oh, Angel Happiness, Let fall one drop from thy rich brimming chalice To cool our parched Souls — ^Be still, poor heart, "Waste not thy sighs in empty air, be still ! 'Tis but a ghost thou pleadest to, the pale Ghost of Joy, that walks this twilight world ; Happiness is not here ; beyond, beyond. It dwelleth evermore — Awake ! it is The dream of Earth — The atmosphere of Heaven. 155 ICONOCLAST. Why didst thou come, When everything around was calm and sweet — With scornful eye and sacrilegious feet Those blossoms rich to trample ; and with hands So fell and cruel, snap the silvery bands In the warm heart's own home ? Too high for mortal worth, On a bright pedestal the idol stood ; Slie reared the symbols of the great and good Around him ; and his love like some clear star Guided her very soul — and from afar Led the affections, like the Magi old, To offer gifts, and adorations manifold— And hail him blest among the sons of earth. 156 ICONOCLAST. Then thou didst come — With weird visage, and dark hints, and doubt, Until the lamp of faith slowly paled out : — The inward vision never more could mark Kindness, or purity, or joy ; — The sun Of Hope eclipsed ; — ^Life's future sands might run Down unto Death ; and Lethe-ward with might The heart might drift, and sink far out of sight. Hast seen the mountain snow. All white and beautiful — flake upon flake, . Forming a fairy pyramid ; until the storm awake And the rash fury of the north-wind blow, — And all the splendid structure downward throw, Deep, deep into the valley, over-cast, Trodden and soiled ; until, dissolved at last, It sinks into the earth below ? Thus fell the Idol, 'round whose head once shone The halo bright of goodness — one by one, Love's hopes congealed ; — Thy face so cold and keen. Caused icicles to form where flowers had been. It was a dream perhaps — but it shall be Not lost, but treasured up eternally ; 157 ICONOCLAST. The Ideal of the heart, strong, bold, and free ! Standing still firm — Each fluctuating wave Of error rolling from it — All joy, all truth, Nestling within its tranquil bosom — Youth, Innocence, and Joy lighting the eyes — Relic of Man's primeval Paradise ! 158 FOUND DROWNED. Would the restless briny billow Never, never let tbee rest ? Tossing on the sea's dark breast, Or rocky cave — Sea-weed, shells, and sand thy pillow ; While loud storm-winds hoarsely rave Above thy grave. II. On the tawny shore at last, 'Neath the glaring eye of Day Thrown ; Corruption's ghastly prey — 159 FOUND DRO"\VNED. Not a trace Left to tell of what hath passed, — All unknown thy kindred, place, Form and face. in. Did the fury of the storm Sweep thee from the reeling bark ? Hurling thee through frowning dark- And in the foam Of surges deep engulph thy form, — Bearing thee where'er they roam. Far from home ? Hast thou friends ? They'll oft bewail Thy long, long absence — tears will start, When thunders roar, and lightnings dart- Anxious eyes At morn, and eve, watch many a sail Gleaming 'twixt the sea and skies, Till e'en hope dies ! V. Haply oppressed by care and strife, 160 FOUND DROWSED. Wlien seen but by the evening star, Where rivers .wind through lands afar — And willows dank Droop o'er, — Thou mightst have bartered life For death, beneath the echoing bank — And thither sank : — Thy Life-tale never will be told — Strangers wrap thee in thy shroud, And thou shalt rest, far from the crowd. Where bird and bee Make music in green churchyard old — Unknown to all, thy bliss or misery, Save God, and thee ! 161 A SUMMER STORM. The Lark drops down to the waving corn, As tired of its journey skyward — Dark gather the shadows, thick and fast ; The cawing rooks fly homeward ; — Shrilly pipes the wind o'er the dusky moor, While adown the mountain side Lowing kine seek some sheltered bank Where the forest songsters hide — The frightened thrush to the covert hastes And drops the struggling worm ;— In passive silence Nature stands T' await the coming storm. Now all is stillness, far and near ; — But hark ! from yonder thorn I hear A low and trilling sound, — ](i2 A SUMMER STORM. Hoarsely murmurs tlic rising blast, And the rain comes pattering thick and fast. In music on the ground ! — Again from the thorn, the leaf-clad thorn. Come those sweet strains — not low and lorn, But a loud and happy song, — Mysterious Bird, what is it wakes Thy heart to joy, while dripping brakes Shelter a tuneless throng f — Still with the Tempest-spirit's wail, With the rain-drop's beat and the thickening liail, Blends the voice of that tiny form — And louder swells the gladsome song As echoes still the notes prolong. Till lost amid the storm. — O happy Bird ! would I like thee. From fears and from dismal terror free, Untouched by cares and ills of Life, In the wild tempest's raging strife, Though clouds my sky deform ; When the golden light of Day Is ebbing fast away. Could sing amid the storm ! 163 m2 THE NIGHT IS DARK MD COLD. Through heavy mist the old tower bell Swung slowly to and fro ; Its iron tongue told the midnight hour To the silent street below — No star looked out on the realms of sleep, Oh, the night was dark and cold ! When a Soul wandered here, to live awhile On earth in human mould. ]\Iany a dawn was ushered in, Long nights closed over day ; — Not 'mong the children's noise and jest In careless mirth and play ; 164 THE NIGHT IS DARK AND COLD. With boyhood's artless ringing laugh, And boyhood's sparkling eye, Was that child-soul found ; but taught, alas ! To beg, or steal, and lie. Roaming the busy crowded streets. Neglected and alone ; Hearing no voice of sympathy. No guiding, warning tone — For the callous Boy, Philanthropy, Methinks thine eye was dry — And pious people stepped aside, With faint half -prayer, half-sigh. Many a dawn was ushered in — Winter's cold, Summer's heat; And the Man had grown, hard Cunning's own. 'Mid the tramp of busy feet — That sullied Soul, begrimed, besoiled. Scarce bore trace of heavenly mould — Oh ! must, must it perish, wand'ring there In the night so dark and cold? Those Evil-genii — Misery, Want — WiU they not let him rest ? 165 THE NIGHT IS DARK AND COLD. And that fearful demon, love of Gold, Burning within his breast ; — Law, that ne'er succoured him, what heeds he 1 Fears no crime, howe'er fell — Hunted, condemned, that wandering Soul Lies doomed in a felon's cell. And the years have fled like winged birds With vride-spread pinions fleet — The old bell telleth the hour still Above the silent street. — A wail is borne on the midnight vyind, Like a solemn anthem rolled — Mercy hath winged her way to Heavoii. Oh, the night is dark and cold ! 166 IT COMES NOT AGAIN. It comes not again ! tliat thrill of love, Like gladsome meeting of biUowy streams ; — Never wDl dawn on the aching heart Lost joy-light, that faded like evening's beams ; — Yon Sun goeth down o'er the purple hill. But a halo-promise will stiU remain ; 'Twill greet us to-morrow — our farewell had hope, But its morrow is past, and it comes not again ! It comes not again — ^I cannot meet Thy form 'mong the living ; — Thy household hearth Marks a vacant seat, — and yet I seem To dream of thee, still, a being of earth ; As tear-blind I grope through the ruined Past — I seek thee, loved, vanished one, and fain Would linger and live the olden time. But it comes not again ! it comes not again ! 167 WAR. How long, how long, shall War with all its brood Of hideous evils, Famine, Sword, and Flame, Scatter Humanity's great brotherhood, Despoil and Waste, for glory's empty name ? Spreading dark Ruin o'er once fertile lands Where Plenty waved in golden aiSuence — While sturdy Labor droops with listless hands, Pining in want beneath its influence — And Art bows down its head, and Poesy grieves, And Commerce' busy wheels are hushed and still While Trade decays — War, cruel War, it leaves The land its rude breath sweeps, cheerless and chill — Well may the Nations groan and islands dread The scourge which strews their shores with countless Dead. 168 LOST! LOST! Bright, bright Gleam the waves in the wan Moon's silver light, "While the stars look down from the fields of night ; Not a sound is heard the deep calm to break, — Save by fits, some wandering -sea-gull's shriek : On Sea, A trim ship rides the billows merrily, The bluff helmsman is whistling cheerily, And the home-bound crew speak of bliss on shore, But ah ! land shall their eyes meet never-more ; Mark, mark That spiral flame like a meteor — Hark ! Comes that wildering cry from yon swanlike bark? 169 lost! lost! " Fire! fire!" shouts the boatswain, '• Fire !" echo the crew, — Calm looks the Moon in her sea-mirror blue — A wail Floats on the breath of the sorrowing gale, That is gently fanning the snow-white sail ; — What fear ! what confusion ! what terror wild! To the hissing deep waves, leap sire and child! A plunge ! Crash ! — the fire-lit vessel sinks. Hear echoing groans from her falling brinks : The waters close over ; the sea rolls on — And the last of that gallant crew is gone ! Weep ! Weep ! The morning dawns, but the mariners sleep 'Mong the weeds and the shells of the briny deep — The loved and the loving have found a grave, A dreamless rest in the shade of the wave ! 170. LIFE'S PATHWAY. Clouds lioyer over Earth's sunniest spot, Ever 'mid greenest bowers, Cypress is twined with the roses of joy — Thorns amid brightest flowers. Sunshine and gladness shimmering o'er The darksome passes of life, — Aching hearts veiled with smiling lips — Calm eyes o'er inward strife. Stony and rough for the pilgrim's feet Is the pathway everywhere ; — Care haunteth city, forest, and field. E'en the solemn house of prayer. Oh, have ye friendship ? Have ye heart-homes ' Guard them with thoughts, deeds, words — For truly o'er Earth's fairest Paradise hangs The shadow of gleaming swords. 171 BLIGHTED HOPES. As blossoms through the summer air Ambrosial odours shed, When fairy-footed Morning starts From her billowy bed ; — As sparkling stars through midnight gleam, When aome dark cloudlet opes. Around his pathway clustering Came bright delusive hopes ; — Like dew-drops on the vernal grass, Like foam-bells on a stream — Transient as they — alas ! to fade. The glories of a dream— A dream, no, that will calmly rest 'Neath the Lethean wave, But grisly phantoms, blighted hopes Rise from the Past's deep grave: — 172 BLIGHTED HOPES. Oh, Disappointment's sullen blast Scattered his joys apart, And sere they lay beneath that wild Tornado of the Heart ; Loud did the hoUow Past resound. Sad as the Night-wind's shriek Above the shattered wreck, o'er which The waves their vengeance wreak. 'Twas sad to watch the gathering storm, Its clouds, and sorrow dark, Low'ring, and all his hopes and joys Freighted in one frail bark ! — That little bark, to him more dear Than a rich argosy. Fade from his sight amid the gloom Of dismal Destiny ! Ah ! tempest-tost and rudderless The heart, once gay and fair, Plunges adown the abysmal depths Of desolate Despair ; — Wan Reason like the Moon's pale light Glimmering o'er the scene ; 173 BLIGHTED HOPES. A fragmentary ruin left, To show where joy hath been ! The bruised and storm-beaten pine May burst to bud again ; But the fierce-riven, lightning scathed, Blasted will aye remain ; Though healing showers and dews descend, Mild gentle zephyrs sigh Above the branches, withering They bend, and bending die. Thus to the stricken spirit, dews Of sympathy may come, — Alas ! the heart's soft music chords For evermore are dumb. The atmosphere of thought is dark. Earth, sky, below, above, A blank — Dim sight alone beholds The blighted hopes of Love. 17-1 A STORMY DAY. Bleak, bleak and cold ! ah, bitter cold ! What could more bitter be ? 'Neath the leaden sky of a wintry eve, Winds shrieking loud and hoarse, — Like a spirit lost, Loud wailing tost On the ocean of remorse : — Rough winds that make earth groan and grieve And heave the mighty Sea ! WUd ruthless Wind ! Ah, mighty Wind ! Like a giant iierce at play — Tossing huge oaks with thy unseen hand, — Scattering the forest's leafy band — 173 A STOEMY DAY. Then far away O'er bluff and bay ; Where the petrels shriek, and sea-mews flock, Shrouding the dark-ribbed rugged rock In clouds of foam and spray. Up the dim valley, adown the lane — Over the house-top high — Whistling, and rattling the window pane, Shaking with fury the church-tower vane. Careering through the sky. — Bleak, bleak and cold, ah ! bitter cold, When ruthless storm-winds blow, — Why waken the forests from wintry sleep ? Why rouse the dread rage of the briny deep ? Why make widows and orphans to wail and weep? The God of the Wind doth know. 176 WE WILL NOT WEEP FOR HIM. Away on the everlasting hills, In glory now He sitteth — Shall we weep that Death Hath stilled that throbbing brow ? "We will not heave deep sighs for him ; Yet he was one to love — One of the chosen pearls was he To deck Christ's crown above. We wiU not weep for him, — On earth He could not stay — Unto his glorious home he went, "While yet 'twas day ; — 177 WE WILL NOT WEEP FOE HIM. The leaves were green around his cot, And earth was fair ; Yet to the Heavens his spirit fled, — His God was there. Away on the everlasting hiUs — In glory now He rests — ^Let us not weep — A crown Decketh the Victor's brow ! ]78 PLEASURE. We are as children gazing up the height Of some steep mount beneath the eye of Day, Who fancy with wild feelings of delight, Heaven bends to touch the summit's hue of grcy- So upward climb, led on by Thought's pale ray — The azure sky no nearer ; — TUl with feet All torn and bleeding, — sinking in the way, They find their hope a vain delusive cheat : — Thus from the Present's plain, we see afar Th' untrodden Future rising with no frown Ruffling its calm ; and Pleasure's beaming star. With lustrous splendour sparkling in its crown. And so the dazzling meteor we pursue ; — Pleasure to grasp, o'er rugged pathways rove ;— Ah ! as we seek, it stiU recedes from view, Ever in mockery rising clear above. 179 s> 2 AN AUTUMN THOUGHT. Flowers droop, decay, and no one mourns ; No pity-breathing tone Stays the rude touch of Autumn's blast When the last Sun-ray 's gone, It whirls the pallid leaf to die Upon the plain alone ; And soon above the wintry grave Bloom the fresh buds of spring — Thus, in forgetfulness Man rests — While smiling forests ring With thrilling music — Friends beloved Grow calm ;— The senseless thing Sepulchred low — they mourn no more : — The dead leaf, let it lie, 180 AN AUTUMN THOUGHT. And wither 'neath the grass — 'Twere vain Longer to grieve and sigh ; — Yes, let it rest. — And thus we fall, Forgotten thus we die ! A frail dead flower — ^A withered leaf Shed from its parent tree, Lost 'mid the countless hosts of Death, Veiled in Eternity ; — Yet would we wish to live alway, In some fond memory. 181 SONG TO DEJECTION. Yes, 'tis an old, old tale of woe That " Man is bom to trouble," That "Death will be a bless'd release," That " Life 's a passing bubble " — But out, I say, upon the man Wlio, when misfortune meets him. Sits heaving sighs, with downcast eyes, And fluttering heart a-beating. Look up, look up with dauntless brow — Shall Circumstance affright thee 1 No ! make it but a stepping-stone, Experience soon will teach thee The world wiU frown upon a man Who lets it see his sorrow ; 182 SONG TO DEJECTION. Then work in hope of sunny skies, And prosp'rous gales to-morrow ! A sturdy tree, when adverse winds Sweep o'er the trembling forest, Will bend perhaps, but rise again And battle with the bravest ; — Dejection never saved a wreck, Or set a ship afloat — Will Grief build up a ruined house, Or change a thread-bare coat ? Fate, Chance, my friend, are dreams that lull. And stay the wheels of Motion ; Be Patient — ^Patience worketh Hope, And Hope incites to Action — Yes, out I say upon the man. Who, when misfortune meets him. Sits heaving sighs, with folded arms And flutterina; heart a-beating. 163 ROLL ON, CLEAR STREAM. Roll on, clear stream ! Thy ripples wake Old memories that have slumbered long ; Roll on, gay stream ! Thy singing wakes The echo of another song. — Old weary willows brooding there ; Old sedgy banks and rushes green — Know ye the child — ^yet child no more, Wlio comes to view this haunted scene ? Oft here, at stilly morn and eve I heard the holy Sabbath bell Borne softly over wood and vrild — Sighing amid this shady dell ! Long Summer days were far too short To list among the foliage fair. The blended sounds bird, bee, and brook Poured forth in music on the air. 184 ROLL OX, CLEAR STREAM. Bright golden Harvest-moons have set Beyond the hills ; and many a Spring Ripened to Summer, since I heard Thy brown veren chirp, and blackbird sing : As Silence wakens, when a voice Rouses her dim dark rocky caves, Thought rises, clothes itself with words, At bidding of thy magic waves. And merry voices of old friends Come from beyond the distant main, Where river-like the Years have flown, — And Childhood's Morning dawns again ! And ruddy health smiles on each cheek ; And roguish laughter lights each eye — A gladsome little band, with no Horizon to Joy's cloudless sky. — And far off clover-scented morns — With hum of insects in the flowers, Are borne back in that silvery strain Of thine, to cheat the passing Hours — 185 EOLL ON, CLEAR STEEAM. Ay, cheat the Hours — for know since then, Reahty with Argus-eyes Peeped o'er the hills — and showed us there The grey horizon of Joy's skies ; And now we turn, and gaze behind — (Time hath put out that inner light) And frighted by dim shadowy thoughts, "We vex and strain the aching sight To catch a glimpse, however faint. Of Future-land ; and tip-toe stand With sulking hearts : — Presumptuous Doubt Would tear the veil from Mercy's hand. "It was," and " Will be," those are words Which happy Childhood never needs — True, simple Gladness finds '' It is," Phrase rich enough, and nought else heeds. Oh, in this world of gloom and change. Where all of earthly mould Decay, thou seemest gay and bright Unchanging, never old ! 186 ROLL ON, CLEAR STREAM. Kounding the pebbles as they lie Within their crystal bed — In peaceful joy, while thunders rend The storm-clouds overhead. The stars smile from their azure heights At mirrored stars below ; And Luna's placid face is there Gleaming through Winter's snow — Or when the calm still Summer night Steals o'er the fragrant air ; And all is hushed in sleep, thou art The only watcher there. Thy lay like some prophetic voice, Back from the shades of death Can call the Past, — and perished forms Re-animate vdth breath. — Then roU, clear stream, and may my soul Mirror' the light of Truth As thou yon star ; — Roll on, gay stream, Type of perpetual Youth ! 187 THE LOVE OF LIFE. No silvery fringes edge the clouds to-night, A dull dead haze closed the pale gate of Day, And twilight merged to darkness unawares — The Earth, clothed in a thin grey robe of mist, Hears the low muffled music of the winds Breathing in sadness through the leafless woods — There is no gladness shimmering around — Nought grand or terrible sublimes the scene ; Yet Earth we love thee still ! Though seasons change, And dark Decay robs thee of leaves and flowers — Steals the bright foliage, leaving thee the thorns ; — And birds forget to cheer thy drooping heart — In Winter's snow, as in the Summer shine, O Earth, our mother, we have always lov'd thee ! 188 THE LOVE OF LIFE. "We cannot choose but drop a tear to think A dark hour cometh, when these eyes must look Their last on wood, and field, and flower ; and close, Never to open more! Dark hour! when trees shall wave, "Warm Autumn suns tinge the glad golden grain, And Winter nights grow radiant with stars. And other eyes behold their glory, while The clear cold moon smiles o'er our mould'ring graves. Then comes the wish to live On, on, and on ! Humanity dreads Death — Ay, and a thousand ills will brave t' evade That mighty one — Sorrow, and pain, and grief, May beat upon the Beggar's homeless head All desolate and cold — ^Like Winter's storm Howling around some lonely cot upon A barren heath ; each gust more fiercely wild. More ruthless than the last — Still threatening To cast it to the ground, a roofless ruin — But when th' exhausted tempest pei'ishes, And the bright Morning comes to paint anew The landscape with his variegated hues — We find the hut, though desolate, still there ; And thus in bitterness, the poor crushed heart Braves the keen withering blasts of Destiny — 189 THE LOVE OF LIFE. Clinging to life, as some poor drowning fly Clings to a blade of grass whirled round and round The eddy of a waterfall. — Misery, wandering homeless through the world, Would scarcely wish to-night, in the dim dark. To stretch his weaiy limbs and sleep, the last Long dreamless sleep, e'en though he knew next morn He'd wake to blissful glory ! 190 LINES TO Thou sayest thy pathway is often o'ershrouded, Clouds above and around thee portentously loom ; Thou canst not perceive that Goodness and Mercy, G-od's bright-beaming love-lights, aye fringe the darkgloom ; Thy soul can expand beneath Night's starry wonders. Ecstatic can list to yon thunder-toned sea ; And dost thou forget The Presence that formed them. Infinitude's King watcheth even o'er thee ?— Now Decay's burning fingers have touched the green branches, And clutched the fruit-crown from Autumn's hoar head. With wild frantic glee, as the old Year lay shivering, Despoiled of its riches, its garments — ^half dead ; And soon it will die, and its funeral dirge Shall be piped o'er the mountains by voices unkind ; 191 LINES TO But wrapped in its snow-shroud, 'twill hear not the surge Loud-leaping the rock, nor the cloud-driving wind; — Yet Earth from their trance shall wake frost-bound valleys, When joy-gleaming streamlets are ocean ward seen Gaily dancing through meadows, and deep in old shadows Of dim forests — boughs don their kirtles of green ; "When birds trill their glad notes, forgetful of dark days. And dead leaves by violets are hidden, — like Care Lost beneath Happiness — Heed thou their teachings, '• Rise, mourn not the Past, while the Present is fair ;" — Yes, the black night of trouble may close o'er the brightest And sunniest day that e'er gladdened the ground, — And o'er-head roll the Tempest-car, laden with lightning, — The Sky's grand artillery boom deafeningly 'round, — While Nature quakes awe-struck ; but Night dawns to Morning. — The eagle-like Clouds vidng their swift way above — O'er the distant horizon sweet sunbeams are gleaming. While the leaf -stirring breeze softly sighs — "God ia love." Oh, Riches may fly, and Fortune frown darkly. And, swallow-Hke, friends with summer depart ; 192 HXES TO Pleasure prove but a mirage — the World's smiles delude thee, — False lights, soon gone out in the midnight of heart ; — With the chill winds of Fate up-heaving Life's billows, Mayst thou yet find the gem — Truth, so precious and rare — And still thou hast some one to live for, and love thee ; — Hope on then — thank God — and never despair ; Life's sky may be darksome, but look, streaks of azure And bright tinted bows irradiate the gloom — • Life's path may be thorny ; but seek mid the hriars Sweet blossoms of kindness, in purity bloom ; — Oh, think then, when gazing on Night's deep world-wonders, Or Eternity's type — the broad boundless sea, — Looking up, full of faith, through the mist-clouds of Error ; The King of Infinitude careth for thee ! 193 A CHILD'S GRIEF. Sorrow touched a child's young heart And made the ready hot tears start ; And the little bosom heave with many a sob and moan, — For the night wore on to day, And the mother, still away, Came not to cheer and bless him with her loving tender tone. But grief stays not with youth — Sorrow, and pain, and ruth, But touch it as mth silken wings, then darkling pass away ; The Future bright and green, "With hopes and joys unseen — 194: A CHILD S GRIEF. Gilds the Present with bright haloes, that ever round it play ; — And ere the silvery glow Of another Moon's bright bow, Fringed chequered Autumn's cloudy sky with beaming rays of light ; Like the wind above the grave — Or light ripples on the wave — The memory of Death became a passing dream of night. 195 o 2 .Stay, stay, thoughts of bright blissful days, In all your golden sheen Gild the lone twilight of our after life, And keep our memories green ! Visions of Happiness, Visions of Joy and Truth, We grieve to see thee pass away like mist- O'er the hill-tops of youth ; — .Smile, smile, be with us yet awhile, Gladden our hearts, until Tlirough griefs, and cares, and worldly strife, We climb life's rugged hill. 196 A DREAM. Oh, what strange sights, Strange thoughts, mis-shapen deeds, and scenes uncouth, Old Morpheus twists into his vagaries When he unfolds a tale, and cheats the brain E'en to believe it true. — One night, 'twas in The Winter wild, when all the elements Seemed leagued with the grim Spirit of the storm, To laugh at human weakness : — When mine ear Was dulled with ceaseless pattering of rain, And roar of angry winds, I fell asleep — And soon beheld a temple huge and bold. More gorgeous than the fabled structure raised By Bagdad caliph in the olden time. Vast throngs of men, women, and children came 197 A DREAM. With eager faces pressing onward still Towards the gates — I entered with the rest, — And questioning old Morpheus of the name Of the great Deity they worshipped there, He told me 'twas the modern Moloch's fane ; And daily, hourly, evermore he drained His willing victim's life-blood : — There on high Rose in the midst an altar glorious, Grlowing with splendour like unto a Sun ; The people flocked around — some knelt Before it ; and some cut themselves with knives Of Crime and dark Ignominy ; and some Tortured the others ; — There were cries and groans, And muttered curses from the fallen too ; — Ground in the dust beneath Oppression's heel. Oh, fearful sight ! — -One poor crushed man I saw, f loaded to madness with the fearful doubt He'd never reach the Idol where it stood : — I saw one with firm step walk to the front And with hot irons sere his Conscience out. ( At this the Oracle seemed truly moved) A few there were who came, bared their pale brows, And gave the teeming brain as offerings — Some tender-hearted Fathers laid their sons 198 A DKEAM. Upon the altar, till the blood oozed out — And Mothers too, who gladly brought, with smiles, Their meek-eyed daughters to the sacrifice. I saw a stately lady, with white hands Pluck her own heart out, and with beaming eyes Present it to the Idol as its due : — But oh ! the crush, the shrieks, the yells Of myriad voices struggling onward still ! The groans of gasping wretches, yielding their Last breath in the great struggle at the shrine : Many were slaves ; I could distinctly hear The harsh loud clanking of their heavy chains. I asked my guide to tell me, in what land ? Beneath what sky ? — among what race of men, Such lavish gifts of brain, of heart and blood. Were given by such eager votaries ? Some word — But my Interpreter had flown, And Day had dawned ; and I was there alone — Thanking kind Fate my " lines had fallen " here, " In pleasant places," where fair Truth and Love, Mercy and G-oodness are the only shrines At which men bow and worship ; — ^Full of faith In God, and in each other — Blest indeed ! 199 Blow, blow, -wild winds! and spend the dreaij^ darkness In mournful wailings round the lonely shore — I lie awake and hear loud echoes float Through the wide air in many a deafening note "Which vex my restless spirit more and more. I could not bear this strife with unseen phantoms That mock the heart with whisperings of woe — Forebodings dark filling the dreary chasm Of distance ; haunting the still deep abysm, Did I not know that when the bright skies glow AVith June's soft warmth — and blossoming roses crown The year with blushing beauty glad and gay, Thou wouldst return again, and smile and makemeblest, And with sweet Hope I try to calm th' unquiet breast And while the weary, weary hours while thou art still away; 200 ELIZA. Oh, how sweet it was to linger With no care to cloud the brow, And watch the grey clouds kindle With evening's parting glow ! — Heaped pile on pile, and all alight Seemed Day's funereal pyre — While the round red Sun sunk slowly down, Like some great world on fire ! Or when like pious Priestess To some holy festal rite, The pale calm Moon ascended The azure vault of night ; — While the tall fir trees 'hove our heads Like waving banners gleamed, Rejoicing in the gentle light Which through their branches streamed ; 201 We stood, and watched star after star Come forth with twinkling beam — And converse held that sweetly touched On many a lofty theme ; — Our opening thoughts grew each like each, As on the self-same bough, Twin spring-buds bloom serenely — They've long been severed now ! But yet my soul would wish to hold Communion sweet with thine — Canst thou, bright Spirit, from the skies Still see and feel for mine ? Thou, glorified amid the Blest, I, a poor pilgrim here, Would fain believe, from that far, high. Unclouded, blissful sphere, The love which lighted earth for me With undiminished glow, Although unseen, sheds its pure light O'er my life-path below. The landscape now seems tinged with gloom From sorrow's dismal shade — 202 ELIZA. All that remains of thee on earth In one small spot is laid ! The Autumn leaves fall o'er it, And the pensive robin trills His latest song, as sunny days Are fleeting o'er the hills. Eliza, tender fragile bud ! It was the hand of love Removed thee from the alien land Unto thy home above ; ' Yet tears of grief were shed for thee — Bitter as falling showers, Bursting above the lowly grave Of summer's withered flowers. Still, still we mourn, but Faith discerns Beyond Death's starless night, The smiling beams of radiant dawn — The holy Land of Light ! And my heart will hush its murmurings, Still sorrow's rising swell ; Hope whispers we shall meet, when Time And I have bid farewell ! 203 "A BROTHER BORN FOR ADVERSITY." Honest, and learned, and liberal he was ; — With such a magnanimity of mind As in a great man would have made him greater, But he was poor, — And magnanimity In a poor man is seldom spoken of : — Many bright visions, many joyous dreams. Illumined each brightening morrow of his boyhood ; — The lore of ancient sages soon became Even as his daily food — ^The hunger Of the deep soul seemed never satisfied — The visible, the gross, the tangible, Tlie merely physical he could not take Into his warm affections, and his heart Still alway seemed Imagination's home ; — He was ambitious, but it was to ascend 204 " A BROTHEE BORN FOR ADVERSITY." Unto the heights where Science leads the mind To learn its secrets and its mysteries. — Ambitious too, that the kind Muse should come And smile and be the Angel of his home. — High sounding names and all the appendages Of rank were naught to him — He could have stood Before a King — a good King, unabashed, His equal — His keen eye beheld at once The Soul through outward Clay — And though a crown Glittered upon the forehead of a fool He could not bow to him, even outwardly — He never cringed, nor fawned, nor flattered. Meaner souls might climb the slippery stair Of social eminence and be applauded great By the unthinking crowd — He'd struggle on ! — The Upas-tree of evil never cast Its blighting shadow o'er his noble soul, Or cooled the kind warmth of his genial heart Which glowed with faith, and hope, and charity — Noxious and vile as Circe's were, he swore. The draughts poured forth from Pleasure's ready hand Which the gay giddy world drank, yea, and praised : — Sights wondrous, gaping multitudes applause, (Refinement and good taste apart) he held 205 " A BROTHEK BOKX FOll ADVERSITY. Were treason to tte faculty divine Which the Creator breathed into his last And noblest creature. — In the seat of scorn He never sate — True Piety, though poor And unadorned — Goodness wherever found, His inmost soul would rise to venerate ; But Cant, Deceit, and Falsehood — ^varnished lies, Though tricked in gorgeous trappings, he denounced With kindling cheek and unmistakeable Enthusiasm. — And the subtle arts — But ah ! why speak of him ? and of the ire Which shook a spirit long, long since at rest 1 Why speak of him indeed"? — He never ploughed The briny deep for gainful merchandise. Nor scattered grain in wide deep furrowed fields, Nor delved into the bowels of the earth, Nor took a place within Trade's busy mart — Nor with red hands hewed out a path to fame ; Speak not of him — Poor and unfortunate ! And yet he toiled ! And that most manfully 'Mid the great world of Science and of Art — On through the lengthening years without a pause, Toiling ivith firm endurance, while the cares And pains and woes of life fell drop by drop, 206 "a brother borx for adversitv." As fall light showers upon the waving tree ; But Winter came — And the cold storm and rain Beat wildly on him — Then — ah ! nevermore Could he hold up that poor defenceless head. He lived — 'Idealist, what did he get ? — Neglect, privation, sorrow, pain, and deht : — He died — no friend was nigh, no pitying tear Dropping above his cold unconscious bier — He died — Serenely sinking to repose From wan disease, the soul sublimely rose — Even to the last, with heart bowed, and bent knee, He still could praise the God who made him free ! 207 BOOKS. Books, the Past with all its treasures to the Present's eye unroll, And we see the mystic old world rising like an open scroll Whereon man hath traced the longing, grand aspirings of the soul. While Time, that mighty Despot, beneath its cruel sway Age after age, like crested waves, fast eddying hurls away — Yesterday's City vast becomes a ruined waste to-day. Noble works of ancient ages — Temples, towers of massive stone, Old Nineveh, Palmyra, Troy, have long been overthrown ; — But these monuments of ages are yet firm, are yet our own. How we love their sweet rich glory as it bursts upon our sight — Unshrouded by the gloomy years — Truth's ever-earnest light — Like those stars which gleam above us through the clouds of Winter's night ! 208 BOOKS. The conquering of Conquerors ! Noble and great were ye ! Who wielded Freedom's sword-like pen, who taught minds to be free — Who graved your high immortal thoughts upon Humanity ! Rich stores are here, rich relics, flowers and plants from every clime — And strains of Bards, who singing soared up Heaven's heights sublime — Ay, gems worthy the adorning of the jewelled crown of Time ! From the troubled tossing scenes of Earth those great King-souls have fled — Dissolved into its kindred dust, each busy throbbing head — Yet I can muse and commune with the distant and the Dead — Old books, in your diversity ye still speak of a whole — As though through the Eternal gates a ray of glory stole, — Shining on all, or faint, or bright, the One great human soul. Like mystic oracles ye speak ; — As when from some far height The rushing dash of waters strikes the deep still calm of Night — Ye wake the soul entranced that waits for spirit rays of Light. THE END. 20!t