' ■*! • ■** HEART-DROPS FROM MEMORY'S URN / MISS S. J. C. WHITTLESEY. 11 DEDICATED TO MY BROTHER, OSCAR C. W, Sumus soli duo. "It is the voice of years that are gone! They roll before me with all their deeds! I seize the tales as they pass, and pour them forth in song." — Ossian. Ihttt fork: A. S. BARNES & COMPANY 51 JOHN-STREET, 1852. .W\-i 51270 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by S. J. C. Whittlesey, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Columbia. George W. Wood, Printer, No. 2 Dntch-St., New York. /V •V \ (X -V -V ♦ With sensations peculiar to those who dip the pencil of Thought in Fancy's vase of hues, to portray the lineaments of the Heart and the phases of Life upon the silken leaf of Poesy, the Authoress of these pensive Heart-Drops unfurls the canvas of her frail barque, with a trembling hand, and launches out upon the precarious tide of public opinion. Freighted with gatherings from the parterre of the Past, and the blossom-crowned hills of an Ideal World, she commits it to the waves, trusting its unassuming caste may waft it peacefully onward in a quiet channel of feeling and affection, unbent by the blast, and unshattered by the storm that broods over the lake of Literature, folding in its dark bosom the lurid ire of merciless criticism ! The writer of the following work deprecates its wrath, claim- ing for her wreathings only what the heart may justly ask at the shrine of hearts, trusting the misty drapery that droops from the pale finger of Distrust, may be looped back by the golden cords of feeling, and the lightning be drawn from the cloud by the magnet of sympathetic influence. 4 PREFACE. On the sunny shores of by-gone years she has culled the snowy buds of Childhood, with a trembling hand, and heart quivering with early memories; from the fresh lawn of glad- some Girlhood she has stolen the dewy blossoms of Hope and Love, perfumed with the aroma of innocence; through the vale of Sorrow she has wandered, in the twilight of Dis- appointment, bearing from its shadows drooping blooms to whisper to a soul of sadness, that blossoms break amid the dimmest shade; and over the darkest abyss of Life she has leaned, with hushed heart and burning brow, and lifted from its gloom the pale, infant bud of " Hope in Despair," whose meek murmurs linger upon the spirit ear of Despondency : — "Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal." In the dreamy hours of twilight, when the foot-prints of angels tracked with gold the azure of the skies, and Fancy's wings unfolded in the sighing breezes of Memory, with the sensitive vine of the Heart she has woven a wreath of these gatherings — faded flowers from memory's waste — intermingled with tiny pearls from the silvery strand of a shadowless clime, and lays it down, "half fearless and yet half afraid" upon the altar of Mind, humbly hoping, as the spirits of the Future, linked to the chariot of the Present, sweep down the lane of years, she may glance back to a fair oasis in the desert of Life, where the white hand of Charity gently lifted it to the eye of favor, that embalmed it with the soft dew of feeling and affection. Alexandria, Va., May, 1852. € a n t t\xt b . Page Preface 3 A Tale of Dreams 9 To a Robin 20 Ezmerelda 22 Bridal Greetings ... 39 The Mariner 41 ' The Deserted Homestead 42 Mother 57 The Last Link is Broken 60 My Casket of Gems 62 A Star hath Set 64 In Heaven there's Rest 66 An Allegory 67 Love's Young Dream *73 When shall we All Meet Again ? 19 Sister 80 The Breath of Love 86 The Angel's Whisper 90 Home Affections 93 The Gathered Bloom 98 ► Sarah Elizabeth 100 " Escape for thy Life," 105 Whispering Spirits 107 Smile, aye Smile Ill To Annie 113 The Shadow 115 The Love of the Heart 119 Persevere 122 Heart- Dreamings 127 We are but Two 130 Thou Comest No More 134 I 6 CONTENTS. Page Passing Away 135 The Bride 137 Twilight Dreaniings 142 Hope 144 To Mary '. . . 145 Lines to a Miniature 148 And then? 150 The Three Gifts 152 Heart-Drops 156 To a Friend 158 ines 159 Memory 163 The Lily and the Rose 164 Come Back 16*7 When? 169 Song of Freedom 172 By-gone Hours 174 The Loved Ones — Where are they ? 178 Oh! Give me back my Heart again! 180 The Wanderer 181 To Mary ... 184 Far, far away 187 Stanzas 188 The Lost Gem 190 The Bridal Wreath 192 Lizzie 194 The Faded Flower 197 Why not ? 200 A Tribute 202 " How shall I give thee up !" . . . . ; 203 The Heart's Reply 205 Sympathy 207 Lay of the Heart 208 Thoughts of Death 210 Adolphus 212 Stanzas 214 Ode to the Past 215 Lines 217 To Kate, of Williamston, N. C 219 CONTENTS, 7 Page Ode to the Wild- Wood 221 Stanzas 222 To Ellen 223 The Early Grave 224 Faith, Hope, and Love 225 Learn to be Silent 221 To my Father 228 They Met 229 Why is it that I'm Sad and Lone ? 231 To Henry 232 Go, Forget Me 233 The Loved and Lost 23^ Thou art Gone to the Grave 235 Wealth and Worth 231 Stanzas 238 Brother 1 239 The Rose, Thorn, and Gem 241 We said Farewell 242 On the Death of an Infant 244 Stanzas 246 A Simile 249 To my Brother 251 The Orphan 253 Serenade 256 A Twilight Lay 261 To a Bouquet of Flowers • 259 Flights of Fancy 262 The Stranger's Whisper 264 Lines 2*56 Address to the Sons of Temperance 261 Annie ....... ...... 268 I love thee not 210 The Wanderer's Sigh 211 To a Violet 213 Affection's Tribute 215 A Call for Song 216 Love much 218 Lines (written in a stranger's album) 219 Yes, I will Sing 281 8 CONTENTS Page Midnight Musings 282 Dedicatory Hymn 283 Do you Remember ? . ■ 285 Lines (inscribed to my mother) 286 To an Anonymous Letter 288 " She is not Dead, but Sleepeth " . 289 The Time to Die 291 My Early Home 292 A Tribute 294 Remember Me 295 ^£>h, let us never meet again ! 296 ^To 297 " Whatever is, is Right " 298 Stanzas 300 The Heart's Farewell 301 May Queen's Address 302 The Severed Tress 304 The Breath of Spring 306 Impromptu Stanzas 307 The Human Heart 310 Stanzas 312 Nay, let me "Weep 313 Judge not the Heart 314 To a Bird Imprisoned 315 Faded and Gone 316 A Fragment 317 The Song of the Spirit 318 Sumus soli duo 320 Nothing True but Heaven 322 Do you Remember ? 323 The Philosophy of Love 325 Lines 329 Henry Clay 330 Elisabeth 333 Not Now 334 Broken Hopes 338 Lines (to the little author of " I love her ") 337 Come, Haste Thee 339 The Two Sisters 841 HEART.DROPS FROM MEMOBY'S URN % $itb nf Drntms. " The serpent of the field, by art And spells, is won from harming ; But that which coils around the heart, Oh, who hath power of charming ?" — Bykon. "I had a dream that was not all a dream"- A fair girl in the bnd of sunny years, Ere yet the leaflets of her girlish heart Unfolded to the wooings of Love's sighs. They called her beautiful, supremely fair, With her soft hazel eyes and auburn curls, That floated like a mist of twilight shade, Made faintly golden by the stars' pale beam, About her snowy breast and rounded cheek, Of ever- varying hue, blending in light, Like a wild-rose leaf in a lily's bell. 2 10 HEAET-DEOPS. An only daughter, lavish love was hers, From fond parental hearts, and every joy That sits enthroned beneath the kindling stars. Like a young lily-bud that folds its leaves From the gay sunshine of a golden day, Lay the fair maiden's heart hid from the gaze Of the great world's bold eye, and noble ones That bowed in homage at her beauty's shrine ; For when was Beauty void of worshipers ? "A change came o'er the spirit of my dream :" The maiden sat, in the hushed twilight hour, "With the soft night-winds tossing back the rings Of glossy hair that swept her blushing cheek. And a proud form was there, a stranger one, A wanderer from a northern clime away. They met beside a sparkling, limpid stream, That sang its music to the listening flowers, And wreathed the infant buds with crystal fringe, As the}?- bent down their red lips to its wave. They met but spake not then, save in language Eloquent though mute — and he watched her steps, And traced her to her home, her happy home, Made radiant with the sunlight of fond hearts. Short time sped on, and now they sat entwined, Beneath the scented vines that lightly swayed In music whispers o'er their youthful heads ; And the low breeze that stirred the leafy homes Of sleeping birds, nestling in twilight dreams, Bore on the warm breath of their plighted faith. And he gave a stainless bud, enfolding A TALE OF DEEA1IS. Fragrance in its hidden heart, as symbol Of her own, whiles the fair moon climbed the east, And peeped her pale eye in the maiden's heart, And read the sweet confession trembling there. " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream:" Before the holy altar stood the maid, Leaning in snowy robes, with roseless cheek, On the strong arm of him, the stranger one. And the great heart of life stood beating there — Beating in leaden numbers, low and deep. I know not how it was, but a dim veil Seemed mantling o'er the scene and stifling joy. 'Twas hushed as the deep calm of voiceless wo, All save anon a low sob from a heart That watched and wept, and yet it knew not why. The man of God that joined their clasping hands, Stood faint and breathless with conflicting fears, As he pronounced them one. 'Twas passing strange, And yet I know the heart of that girl-bride Seemed shrouded 'neath a pall of coming ills, E'en while her hazel eye looked smiling up In the deep blue of his — the trusted one. They did not know the " shadow cast before" Was type of darker hours and deeper dread ! "A change came o'er the spirit of my dream:'' The young wife sat among the blooming flowers, So faintly paling in the Autumn's breath, And dreamed how hearts must fade and droop and die, When the rich summer of young Love is gone. 12 HEART-DROPS. And be was there, the loving and the loved, With soft, deep azure eyes, and jetty hair Swept gently back from his fair, manly brow, By her small hands that looked, amid its mass Of shining darkness, like two white-winged doves Eeveling amid Despair. Then he spake, And whispered her of one whose youthful breast "Was darkened with her shadow" — one who laid The offering of his heart low at her shrine, And turned in anguish from the maddening tale, That she would be another's. Ah ! she knew His noble, faithful heart lay crushed and chill, In the cold cavern of a hopeless love ; For they had told her how he strove to hide His anguish in the deep of his own breast, From the sheer mockery of weak Pity's lip, In the dim chamber of Seclusion. Ah ! She felt the brightness of her own glad heart, Had shut out hope from his too-faithful breast, When days went on, and their eyes met again ; His the sad glance of patient resignation To His pure will who " doeth all things well " And a soft smile sat gently in the blue Of his warm glance, chiding with its faintness, And 3'et he blamed her not, for well be knew, "Love is not the growth of years nor gift of will." I know not how it was, but her young heart Grew sad in gazing on his high pale brow, Where hopelessness seemed written in its calm ; For she had not, save as a sister, loved. And now, when he, her own, her trusted one, A TALE OF DREAMS. 13 Called up his image to her vision-gaze, And his meek glance of sorrow smote her heart, A veil of paleness swept her rosy cheek, And dewy sympathy swam in her e}^e. Ah ! fatal hour, that dropped its soiling print Upon the snowy tablet of his sonl ! He saw the shade of hers, and his bright brow Grew dark and fearful with the spirit's grief. In vain she strove to twine her trembling arms Around his manly form — in vain she wept And told him all her love — he darkly frowned, And thrust her wildly from his heaving breast !• The low, sad Autumn winds went wailing on, Sighing deep dirges o'er her faded dreams, And opening to her wild, despairing e} T e, Dim visions of life's dark reality ! For 'tis the heart gives Nature all its caste, And beauty in its shade looks ever lorn. "A change came o'er the spirit of my dream:" Again she sat within her early home, And he was far away upon the deep. The pale moon, softly cradled in the sky, Looked sadly down, as if in sympathy, Upon the wreck of all her cherished hopes. He called her cold, in madness, and she fled From the wild ravings of a tortured heart, And he went forth a wanderer o'er the waves. They did not say "Farewell," for she was gone To the warm hearts she once resigned for him ; But now the dream was over, and she came, 14 HEART-DROPS. A fading, blighted bud, to droop and die Upon the bosoms true, that knew not change. The j did not say "Farewell," and he went forth From the sweet scenes of all their early love, To lone communion with the restless waves — They parted silently to meet no more. And so it is — Love is the shade of Jo} T ; It sleeps and smiles, and wakes to weep in sorrow ! " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream:" Fie had come back from his far mountain home, And humbly knelt confessing all his wrongs. They told her not to trust him, and she wept, And faintly turned from his low pleading voice, That wakened all the past, the happy past ; Bright till that fated eve that dashed the gems Of garnered hopes, on the projecting rock O'erhanging the deep gulf of dark Distrust ! " They told her not to love him," and she shrank And sought to fly, but her weak heart Melted and sank upon the breast of Love ; For when was Youth e'er wise to Reason's call ! And there were tears and sighings loud and deep, Beneath that dear old roof, her childhood's home, For she was far away, amidst the din Of a strange world's all cold and jostling mart. He bore her far away from clinging hearts, And whispered of a pure and changeless trust, When distance had shut out the light of eyes That beamed upon her in her sunny clime, Maddening his soul with strange, unholy thoughts. A TALE OF DREAMS. 15 And so the sequel proved that "Love is blind," Nor knows the shatters of a riven faith. " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream :" She had gone forth from the full heart of life, To the cool shadows of his mountain home. The rose was on her cheek, and in her eve The glad young soul looked out all joyously, As o'er the deep-green hills her merry foot Bounded, making soft music through the leaves That Autumn's early finger had swept down Upon the mossy turf that clad the hills. And she was happy in that far-off land, For stranger hearts smiled brightly on her there. I know not how it was, but hearts would ope, Where'er she strayed, and warmly welcome her ; And she was glad, for all her soul was Love. She could not live without its sunny sphere. But sometimes a faint shade would bind her brow — Sweet, holy memories of home and friends — ■ And he would chide her for a wandering thought Of some proud one within that stranger land, Who dared to smile upon a brother's bride ; And her soul sickened, "hoping against hope," Till Time had told she "worshiped but a shade." Within a chamber dim with twilight haze, She dwelleth now, far from his lovely home. And he is there; with deeply burning brow, And deathly lip, he taunts the stoic wife With an unholy passion cherished there. Silent she sits, and lists with tearless eye, 16 HEART-DROPS. For her heart's urn has long been drained of tears. Darkly he bends his deep eye on her own, And reads her calmness — madly raised his hand, And love's sweet chain is rent. Calmly she rose, And his wild eye bent down beneath her own, For the proud spirit of her fathers lurked Within its depth. Coldly she spake " Farewell" Low at her feet he knelt. She turned away, And yet she heard him curse his madness deep, For well he knew his home was hers no more. " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream :" A frail barque kissed the bright and laughing waves That made soft music in the ocean's cave. The great world's heart is pulsing far away, And all her hopes lie crushed amid its din. A white veil flutters in the morning breeze, And well she knows his heart is on the sea. Her dim eye lingered till the city fled, And melted in the distance, like a mist Of fleecy morning clouds circling the deep. Silent she turned and bent above the flood, And heart-drops mingled with the sea-green wave, Dreaming how peacefully a heart would sleep, Wrapped in the winding-sheet that ocean spreads ; But her faint eye looked up to the stars' home, And scanned the watery waste sleeping in light, And on the blue leaf of the ocean scroll, She saw and read — " Not all of Death to dieP 1 " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream :" A TALE OF DREAMS. 17 Again she trod the bright ways of her youth, And warm hearts sorrowed as they clasped her form, So frail, they thought she soon must pass away. She seemed a violet in the Autumn's blast, Bending in every breeze, ere long to fade, Or a pale lily bowed beneath the dew, Crushed with the weight of tears — and fond ones gazed Upon her pale, pale cheek and languid eye, And saw the blossoms breaking o'er her grave ! They bore her far away to " change of scene," Where no remembrance of her buried hopes Might be evoked by aught that linked the Past ; Bidding her smile for them, and her young soul Struggled to break the fetters that enslaved. Time's soothing finger strung her heart anew, And made, sometimes, low music with its strings, Uplifting the dark veil her spirit wreathed, Shading its light, and gemmed it with soft stars. They saw the rose again paint her fair cheek, And in the hazel of her eye the lustre sleep, And fond ones smiled and whispered — " She is saved !" I know not how it was, but proud ones came, And spake of " Love," and "Hope," and future "Time." But she shrank shuddering from the syren song That long ago had lured her on to wo ! I know not how it was, for she was not As she had been of yore, so beautiful They called her a bright spirit dropped from Heaven. Ah! they did not know, when she shrank trembling From the voice of Love, how her soul was stirred By a pale wand — the memory of the past. They saw her turn and smile, and called her " cold." 18 HEART-DROPS. " A change came o'er the spirit of my dream :" I saw the wealth of Love's outflowing tide, Turned back in fullness on her gushing heart, Moaning in anguish round the spirit's eaves, And she caught up the echo of its sighs, Weaving frail wreaths bound with her own heart-strings, And sent them forth to tell a listening world — "We learn in suffering what we teach in song !" She gathered faded flowers from Memory's waste, And laved them in the fountain of her tears ; They drank the briny flood, and ebbed its tide. The streamlet of her soul flowed on again, In an ideal clime, and peopled it With fancies and sweet dreams to revel in, And the dim visions of the shadowed past, Paled in the beams of Fancy's " brain-born " joys, And sated sorrow lulled in sorrow's sons:. And so it is — Wo has its own resource, And draws on Fancy, when all others fail. Years rolled away. They told her she was/ra? — That her one plea was granted — and she smiled. I know not how it was, but a strange smile Seemed settling on her lip, as her dark eye Bent o'er the semblance of her early love — The soft blue eyes, the dark and shining hair, The proud and manly form — even his name, To her lone ear was a forbidden word ; " So dies in human hearts" a dream of Love! She gazed and smiled, and turned the tiny shade From her sad eye, and sealed it with " Farewell ;" Speeding it onward to a distant land — A TALE OF DREAMS. 19 She said "Farewell:" they never met again. And then she took a long, long-cherished flower, He twined amid her curls in girlhood's morn, And gazed upon it — all her early hopes — Her starry dreams, and visions bathed in light, Had laded like it — and she bade it — go ! Lonely she sat in the dim twilight shade, And dreamed the past, the buried past all o'er — Buried in madness and its grave — her heart .' A monument of years o'ershaclowed it. Its epitaph, traced in tears, was — Memory. The dream was past — startled I awoke. And gazed around upon a world of change, "Wondering if it could be cdl a dream ; For a dim vision floated through my brain — Visions of tears and sisrhs and aching hearts, That I had seen and heard in distant lands ! And then I thought the destiny of some, I had linked up in this my darksome dream ; — Heaven help thee, maiden, if it shadow forth A cold, a dread reality for thee ! Death sleeps — Life slumbers on the edge of Time, And weaves a changing garland of strange dreams Around the heart of Love — fleeting as fair; ' But in the sleep of death what dreams may come — " Dreams ! in the grave is but reality : A long, unbroken, never-changing story : But Life, aye, " Life is hut a Talc of Dreams." 20 HEART-DROPS. $n n llnliiu. Sweet bird! how dotli thy music tone Kecall the days forever flown ; "When life was bright, and skies were clear, And blessings starred my pathway here! Thy kindred's tones had ever power To soothe me in the weariest hour — To lead my lonely thoughts above, And thrill my heart with holy love. When twilight beams fell faintly down, And deepening shadows stole around, Their cheerful songs 'woke silent eve, And bade expiring sunlight live. And then I loved to watch their flight, By the pale moonbeam's misty light, And ca L ch the last far-distant sound That floated on the air profound. Again, when rosy morn awoke, Their songs my peaceful slumber broke, Ana wooed me to the woods away, To greet with them the infant day. TO A ROBIN. 21 Light o'er the dewy mead I tripped, And deep from Nature's fountain sipped, And culled the brightest, fairest flowers, To decorate my youthful bowers. Back o'er the downy heath I'd fly, With ringing laugh and sunny eye, And bounding heart, and song as gay As their own silvery, soothing lay, And then at noontide's sultry hours, I watched them 'midst the leafy bowers, And longed to see departing clay. To list again their lovely lay. Ah ! thoughtless, sinless, careless child, In sweet content and joy I smiled Upon the close of that bright day, That bore my happiest hours awa} T ! Yet such is childhood, shadeless youth, Sweet innocence and guileless truth, But, ah! in after years of pain, We sigh for those sweet hours again ! Then chant thy lay, my favorite one, And let fond Memory backward run, To by-gone days, and scenes of yore, Scenes that I now may see no more ! And as I list thy tuneful lay, An innate sense of Truth will sa}- — " Though all thy happiest hours are passed, Beyond this vale — in Heaven there's rest!" 22 HEART-DROPS. € 3 nt it 1 11 ft n . PART FIRST. I. She museth here, Aurelia, Here Avhere the white stone tells The youthful Ezmerelkla, fair, In dreamless silence dwells ; The stranger ! who in years agone Sank gently down to rest, In all her early loveliness, Within earth's peaceful breast ! II. Here, while departing daylight hangs A fringe of golden light, Bestarred with ruby gems, around The robe of queenly Night — Where twilight mists come stealing on, With Autumn's sighing breath, That chants a lonely requiem Around this home of Death — EZMEEELLDA. III. She mournful bends, with silent heart, The story, sad, to tell, Of her whose spring-time buds of hope So early drooped and fell In sorrow's dust, ere yet their young And richest leaves unrolled From out their fresh and dewy case Of emerald and gold ! IV. Ah ! she is sad, Aurelia, Here in the evening hush, While low iEolian whisperings In plaintive numbers gush Around the snowy sentinels That guard the loved and lost, Soft sleeping in the arms of death, Chilled by untimely frost ! V. Here rest the lovely infant forms Of rosy Childhood, fair, Whose tiny brows were shrouded up Untainted by pale care ; Their sinless hearts lie moldcring here, Beneath the damp, cold sod, While life's immortal spark burns on Around the throne of God. 23 24 HEAET -DROPS. VI. It is a lovely thing to die In childhood's starry hours, To lay the infant bosom down Amid the opening flowers That mingle with the moaning breeze Their soothing lullaby ; Oh ! in life's innocence it were A blessed thins: to die. VII. And many a wan and furrowed cheek, And many a hoary head, So calmly lieth cradled here Beneath the night- wind's tread ; Bending beneath the weight of years And many a wintry blast, They buffeted old Jordan's tide, And anchored safe at last ! VIII. 'Tis beautiful, the fading light Upon the brow of Age, "When Time's faint hand is folding up Its thickly-lettered page ; But oh ! how joyful 'tis to know, When the last trace is given, The finished work has been revised And stereotyped for heaven ! EZMEEELLDA. IX. And some who sweetly slumber here, Came o'er Atlantic's foam, To rest within a stranger earth, Far from their early home ; Came from their childhood's clouded hearth, A long-oppressed band, To fold their weary wings within Our free and happy land ! Ah ! thus it is, the joys of youth, The home of infancy, Ne'er counterpoised the golden scale Of glorious Liberty ! For minds are of supernal birth, And scorn the tyrant's rod, And man was made to bend alone, In homage, to his God. XI. Oh ! blessed, ever blessed be My native land, my own ! Where crowned heads tyrannic sway No sceptre on its throne ; Where Freedom is the royal robe, Whose Monarch reigns above, And bondage is the golden links Of His eternal Love ! 3 26 HE ART -DROPS. XII. Low lie they now, these wanderers From thraldom-lands afar, Led o'er the dark blue ocean wave, By Freedom's Bethlehem-Star ! Enough for noble hearts like theirs, To worship at its feet, And find upon its sacred soil, A peaceful winding-sheet. XIII. Yet from these symbols of pale hopes And faded joys, I turn And bend in holier dreams around Fair Ezmerellda's urn ; The silent spot where sleeps a heart So early crushed and chilled ; "Where sweet affection's dew was ne'er In holy love distilled ! XIV. None wept above this lovely bud Of premature decay, Save he within whose blighting breath It early drooped away ! A beauteous blossom rudely torn From off the parent stem, And borne away, by Angel hands, To Heaven's diadem ! EZMEEELLDA. 27 PART SECOND. 'Twas in the blooming Summer time, And Evening's gentle sprite Stood waiting, with her purple robe, To deck the coming Night. While from the throne of ether, hung, Half-hid in lingering Day, A coronal of golden gems, A brilliant tiara. II. Bending above the buried form Of Ezmerellda, fair, A burning breath came o'er her cheek, And wailings of despair Gave out unto the murmuring breeze, Their wild and mocking tone ; And eyes of mad and flashing light, Burned down into her own ! in. " Away and leave me with my dead ! Away !" the mocker cried, " My dead ! ha ! ha ! I murdered her ! My own, my lovely bride ! My dead ! ha ! ha ! I murdered her ! For she was false as fair! I broke her false, false heart ! ha! ha! And hid it darkly there ! 28 HEART-DROPS. IV. " I wooed her from her happy home, And dreamed she loved me well, But she was very false, ha ! ha ! As where the demons dwell ! I stood beside her dying bed And saw her fade in death ; She could not mock me then, ha! ha! With her deceitful breath ! "I laughed beside her cold, cold form, And false, hushed heart, ha ! ha ! And then I laid her softly here, From all she loved afar ! But now her hand is on my heart, Her hot tears burn my brain ! She laughs to see me sink, ha ! ha ! Deep down to deathless pain ! VI. " Away ! away false one ! away ! I did not murder thee ! With thy bewitching eyes, ha! ha! Why dost thou torture me ? I did not wile thee from thy home, And laugh to hear thee sigh ! Thou didst not love me or thou hadst Not wept when I was by ! EZMERELLDA. VII. 29 " Away ! away, false one ! away ! I cannot bear thee now ! I hate thee in thy mouldy grave, For thy false, whispered vow ! Away ! away thou pleading one, And let me softly roam Where thy false eyes and mocking smile, In dreams may never come ! VIII. " I did not murder thee, ha ! ha !" And the mad laugh rang back Upon her startled ear, along The gloomy woodland track ; And then she fled, Aurelia, Unto the crowding mart, Where the wild murderer's mocking tone Could not congeal her heart. IX. But when the crimson foliage Of Autumn veiled her tomb, Sweet Edith knelt again, beside This early-blighted bloom ; And of the heart that slumbers here, She sadly whispered me; Come listen, young Aurelia, And I will tell it thee. 30 HEART-DROPS. PART THIRD. She was a fair and joyous thing Of sunny cheek and eye, Ere Love had taught her maiden heart, Its spirit- wings to try ; He poured into her youthful ear, A tale of winsome art, And from her early home she fled, To trust a stranger heart ! II. It is a fearful thing to love, To launch the spirit's barque, Without a beacon light to guide, Into the " unknown dark." Better to give the pulseless heart Into the arms of Death, Than hang it, throbbing with warm life, Upon an untried faith. in. 'Tis but a song of life I sing, A song of trust betrayed, When spirit-vines tenacious cling Around a worthless shade. Such was her fate who slumbers here, Borne from a distant strand, And shrouded in her loveliness, Within this stranger land. EZMEREL LDA. IV. 31 She sank into the misty tomb, With no sweet words of love, To hush her aching heart to rest, And soothe its mourning dove I She faded like a young wild rose "Within the summer time, And girding up her Seraph-wings, Passed to a peerless clime ! v. "To die! to sleep! to sleep! no morel And by a sleep to say We end the heart-ache," and the ills That crowd Life's narrow way ! Ah! fearful thought ! to be shut out From this bright world of ours, Of mirth and song and varied light, And gay, enameled flowers. VI. By Death's pale finger 1 lowly laid Within the voiceless tomb, Where no faint ray of dawn dispels The never-ending gloom ! Enfolded in a snowy shroud, Within a dusky home, Alone ! where no sweet echoings Of Love can ever come ! HEART-DROPS. VII. But ah ! to fall, with no fond one To close the weary eye, To breathe, far from our early home, The last, faint, yearning sigh ! To watch life's promise-buds decay, And moulder into dust, Death-blighted in the frozen gloom Of maddening distrust ! VIII. This, this is wo ; and this dark fate Was hers who sweetly sleeps Beneath the violet-turf that drinks The tears that nature weeps ; As if in tender sj^mpathy Her blue and brimming eye Begems this slender grave with pearls Flung from the azure sky. IX. Oh beauty ! rover from the skies, Thou art a fearful dower, A mighty talismanic wand, Charged with electric power ! A gem, a pearl, a fragil bud, For Passion's lip -caress ! The hapless victim of thine own Surpassing loveliness ! EZMERELLDA. X. Had she who slumbers here, possessed Less of thy magic art, What darts of bitter agony Had missed her guileless heart ! For he who culled the peerless bloom, Grew jealous of its ray, And, guarded with distrustful care, It sighed itself away. XL Distrust ! oh ! basest satellite From deepest gulf below ! Nursed in the arms of worthlessness ! Minion of mocking Wo ! Chief marshal of Satanic troops From Misery's burning clime ! Drilling recruits to people it, From out the ranks of time ! XII. And he went forth, the murderer, Into the world's great heart, To quell the surges of remorse, Amid its groaning mart; But Conscience marked him for her prey, From her insulted lair, And drove the raving wretch before Her lashings of despair! 33 34 HEART-DROPS. XIII. The silent monitor that slept, Ere her young heart was crushed, The resurrection trump hath waked, Now that her voice is hushed ! And thus it is, the darkling ills, The wrongs and rankling pain We measure out to other hearts, Conscience doth mete again. PART FOURTH. I. Alas ! how many hearts could tell This tale of early doom, Could their long silent voices speak Up from the dreary tomb ! How many trusting ones have sunk In silence dark and drear, Beneath the same cold weight that pressed This lovely sleeper here ! II. Ah ! some we know, Aurelia, In that far land of thine, Where Spring's first buds are breaking 'round That early home of mine ! That sweet home-place of light and bloom, Watched o'er by eyes so blue ; 'Tis lovelier now that " distance lends Enchantment to the view." EZMERELLDA, III. 35 Our early home ! — there is no sound More musical and free, No cord within a wanderer's heart, So full of melody ! The world may wake her golden harp, Before us as we roam, Yet sweeter, far, the symphony That murmurs " Home, sweet home !" IV. Long years have gone since last we stood Within that home afar, Yet in the horizon of Mind, It burns the brightest star ; And ever will the tender arms Of Memory caress her, And breathe around the throne of Love, "The Old North State, God bless her!" There is one silent sacred spot Within that land of love, To which a wayward Muse would turn, And, lingering, love to rove ; The hallowed spot where mouldereth The holy man of God, Who sank with shouts of victory Beneath the flowery sod ! 36 HEART-DROPS. VI. That early grave, where tiny buds Held up their cups of blue, And gracious Evening filled them up With drops of pearly dew ; And where the hand of Autumn spread Eose-covering around it, As though her heart was loth to leave, Less lovely than she found it. VII. Ah ! many an anguish-freighted tear Hath flowed and fallen there, From her the loving and beloved, The youthful, plighted fair ! Her pure and ardent heart to him Was unreserved given, Death clasped the living in the dead, And bore them both to heaven ! VIII. . Oh! when affection's spirit-vine Enlinks a kindred heart, Nor Life, nor white-winged angel Death The tendril e'er can part; Up through the spangled veil that hides The spirit-world away, It clambers o'er its ruined hopes, And blossoms on for aye ! EZMEEELLDA. 37 IX. Fain would we lift the icy shroud That veils another there, And breathe in wild Ambition's ear, A tale of Wealth's despair ; List, maiden, whose obsequious heart Is bowed before its throne ; The hapless fate of Eveline, May shadow forth thine own ! The spotless lily of the vale, The young and graceful vine, Were not more fair and delicate Than lovely Eveline ; The lordly suitor sought and won The humble, modest flower, And bore it in his arms of pride, Unto his brilliant bower. XI. She left her simple cottage home With calm and smiling brow, And breathed, with an unfettered heart, The solemn, bridal vow ; The golden glitter of the chain That wreathed the girlish bride, Fell dazzling on her beaming eyes, And soothed ambitious pride ! 38 HEART-DROPS. XII. But what is life when wanting love? And what are courtly halls, Divested of the sympathy That gladdens kindred souls? Fair maiden, fame and wealth and pride, May bend unto thy will, But there's a nook within the heart, That love alone can fill. XIII. Transplanted from its native shade, To gardens of sunlight, Without affection's cooling dew, To keep it fresh and bright. The yearning blossom lonely pined In sickening slow decay, And 'midst the splendor of its home, It darkly drooped away. XIV. Go where the sunlight drifteth down Among the blossomed trees, And where the soft Spring's perfumed breath, Comes floating on the breeze; Bend, maiden, o'er the dotted turf In that far land of thine, And timely learn to deprecate The fate of Eveline. BRIDAL GREETINGS. 39 XV. Come where the crimson-fringed clouds Hang out their fleecy folds, Come where the struggling infant leaf So stealthily unrolls Eound Ezmerellda's silent urn — A mourning spirit-voice Will whisper thee, "Pause, ponder, sift, Not easfer in the choice." $nkl d&rrrtings. TO " LELIA MORTIMER," SPRINGFIELD, MASS. Blessings be thine, fair bride, my sister-friend Since thou hast glided from the gentle stream, And sunny shores of sweet celibacy, Into abroad and ever-changing sea! Oh! may that ocean e'er unruffled be, Its surface smooth, and ever calm to thee ! May thy connubial barque, with blossoms decked, Of rich, perennial bloom, glide o'er its wave In one uninterrupted voyage of peace, And blest prosperity. Sunshine and skies 40 HEART-DROPS. Of cloudless azure and unfading light, Be ever o'er and round thee, sister dear; Joy in thy bosom dwell, profusely poured From the heart-urn that henceforth must mete out Thy all of earthly hope and happiness! Thou art no longer ours, thou hast gone forth, With bright dreams nestling in thy loving heart — Bright dreams of fadeless smiles, and changeless truth, Through starry years linked by affection's chain ; It may be so, fair bride, "yet who can tell?" It is not meet that one who loves thee well Should breathe a bridal song for thee, young wife; Perchance the shadow in her heart may fling Its twilight round thy own. A shade will steal Across her spirit, with the dream-like thought, Thou art another's now! — gone from the wealth Of loving hearts, that made this changing earth So bright and beautiful to thy glad e} T es ! Gone from the home-hearth, with thy young heart's wings. Folded in faith in one ! From the sweet shore Thy foot so lately pressed, in "fancy free," And where full many a tiny print is traced Upon the snowy sands, for memory To linger o'er, we watch thee from afar, And send a whispered prayer o'er the deep tide, That gladness e'er may freight thy bridal barque, Calm as the joys that blessed thee, single-hearted! THE MARINER. 41 $\i fflaxinit. A storm broodetli over, I hear the hoarse cry Of the "heavy-hoofed" thunder, that trampeth the sky In wrathful pursuit of the lightning's wild flight — Good Spirit, protect the poor sailor to-night ! There are hearts on the sea-swell, though sturdy, will quail At the shriek of the tempest, and ocean's loud wail, As the wind-harpies marshal their dark, howling train Through the storm-riven scoop of the turbulent main ! "We love the true hearts on the wild ocean wave, Where the red lightnings leap, and the foam-surges rave, And heaven's artillery goes bounding in glee Through the white splashing brine of the billowy sea! We love the true heart of the rough honest tar, That delves the wide waste of blue waters afar; And when the storm-drifts heap on heaven's dark brow, We whisper, " God help the poor mariner now !" I have watched the white dash of Atlantic's thick foam, As the gallant barque ploughed through her watery home, And I learned 'mid the rumbles of ocean's swift car, To love the kind heart of the rough honest tar. 4: 42 HEAET-DEOPS. I have heard the harsh creak of the quivering shroud As the wind-spirits swept from the gathering cloud, And tossed the white froth of the maniac wave, Eound the shivering form of the gallant ship, brave ! Methinks I }~et hear through the high-piping storm, As we crept to his side for a refuge from harm, A warm breath that hung in the dimness a star. From the comforting lip of the rough, honest tar. There's a heart in his bosom as noble and true, As throbs 'neath the glitter of heaven's dark blue ; A heart that though others rmxj tremble and fly, "Will shield thee, and save thee, in danger, or die ! Then bend with me, frail ones, whose weakness would start The full, gushing fount of the rough sailor's heart, While the loud thunders roll and the lightnings gleam bright, And breathe a warm pra} r er for the seamen to-night. (AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO THE REV. ROBERT J. CARSON, OF NORTH CAROLINA.) Sweet Lovelands, far away 'neath southern skies ; Where ruddy summer bends her azure eyes With loving smiles, and glances soft and mild, As the meek murmurs of a sinless child ; THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 43 And trembling wings of zephyrs waft perfume, From treasure-laden cups of coral bloom. There woodland chanteth day-long melody, To cooling winds that wanton sportively, And shake the bright dew from the quivering leaves, Upon the tangled maze and mossy eaves ; And birds of plumage fold their tired wings, At hush of eve, when parting daylight flings Its fading glory, from the crimsoned west, Around their tiny forms nestling to rest, And warble forth their last low requiem-lay, To the faint pulses of a dying day. There the far-stretching lawn of emerald sheen, Profuse of wild flowers nodding o'er the green, That lift their painted cheeks to the red lip Of wooing Nature, stooping down to sip, Then shrink aback in virgin purity, And veil their blushing brows in modesty. I do remember me the quiet nook Within the woodland shades, beside the brook, Where the light fawn would come at young twilight, When Evening blushed within the arms of Night, And timid drink the soft and silvery stream, Then startled, flee where Dryads love to dream. That singing fountain! — doth it murmur on, As in the days of infancy agone ? Do the thick clusters of the maple, shade The bright green slope where we in childhood played — And dip its willowy arms into the stream, Where long ago was wove Life's loveliest dream ? Perchance the winding path adown the hill, Unto the wavelets of the rippling rill — 44 HEAET-DROPS. That gently sloped from that, sweet cottage door, The thistle and wild-briar clambereth o'er. Perchance the fairy fountain now is dry, Where oft was mirrored childhood's laughing eye ; Time's hand, mayhap, hath filled the tiny scoop, Whose silver thread crept round the woody slope, Now catching beams that straggled through the glade, Now darkling, dimpling, in the purple shade, Then leaping lightly down a tinkling side, With whispers sweet and low as evening-tide. The maple leaves that hung, and quivered there, Flinging soft music on the breezy air — Do they still flutter in the fragrant breath That sweeps along the lightly bending heath ? Or has the woodman's sounding steel laid low The boughs that sheltered us in Ions: ago ? Nor heard a pleading tone with echoes free, Float from the past — " Oh woodman spare that treeM" It may be so — those arms may mouldering lie — The little fountain-urn be choked and dry ; 'Tis but a symbol of the dreams that smiled Within the bosom of that laughing child ! The promise-stem of joy fall early lay Upon the border of Affection's way ! The music of the dancing stream that gushed From out that trusting heart was early hushed ! Sweet Eva ! like the wavelets of the stream, Was ebbed the tide of thy delicious dream ! Love's lattice, o'er the lawn of Memorjr, Look through and sigh ; 'tis all that's left to thee ! Yet once again ; I would essaj'" to paint — Although the coloring; be thin and faint — THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 45 That little household band as once it drew Around the cheerful hearth, at fall of dew. The humble-minded farmer, college-bred, With warm free heart and knowledge-laden head; His mild blue eye and lip, 'mid great and small, Had placid smiles and pleasant words for all ; And much the wonder was that he should come, To plant amid the wilds a rural home ; Nursed in the lap of luxury and pride, Upon the whirring waves of life's full tide, He turned his barque from busy scenes of childhood, And anchored down amid a stranger wildwood, Content to watch the green and springing grain, And lead the tottering boy across the plain, Loud prattling as he plucked the violet blue, And shook its little leaflets wet with dew ; He breathed no sigh for life's far-distant mart, But veiled in calm retreat a peaceful heart. Yet much, they said, his calling he mistook In mooring up in this delightful nook To train the tender blade — the cause was plain, He better knew of lore than tending grain. All are adapted to a certain sphere, By Nature's laws — this truth is very clear ; The youthful Artist, with his brilliant eye, Untaught, in systematic art to dye The snowy canvas, steals a leaflet fair, And leaves the impress of his genius there ; The artful lawyer of consummate skill, Though without brief, will be a lawyer still. Thus with our farmer nobly delving there, Wasting his talents on the "desert air; " 46 HEART-DROPS. The truth of Nature's laws, I'll plainly show, For when he planted, nothing nice would grow ! Yet all unmoved he viewed the scanty store, "With grateful heart for that, nor sighed for more ; Beloved of all, he smoothly stemmed Life's tide, And if he erred it was on virtue's side. And then the housewife, with her midnight hair, In thick folds parted on her forehead fair, And eyes like ebon gems, in silver set, Half-hid behind a drooping fringe of jet. Brought up in town, she better loved to thread The busy mart, than where the elfins tread ; Amid the shadows of the dewy dell, She loved to roam awhile, but not to dwell : The blooming garden owned her nursing hand, But better far, the rose-exotic stand ; The golden jessamine, the red woodbine, Around the cottage eaves she taught to twine, Then 'mid their rich luxuriance look aroun' With calm content — then wish herself in town ! And if she would, she would, and that was all, If not, she would not, let what would befall ; And if she loved, no storm the tie could sever, But cling through summer's sun and wintry weather. And there the blue-eyed happy-hearted girl, With auburn tresses easy coaxed to curl, And round, plump form, and forehead broad and low, With fair, meek face and cheeks of softest glow ; A purer, truer heart ne'er owned a rest Within the parterre of a mortal breast; A frown ne'er settled on her sunny brow, But if you erred, she'd chide you sweet and low, THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 17 And at the beauty of her gentle tone, You shrank abashed, contrasted with your own. She was a soft south breeze, that steals along With soothing balm, and lowest whispered song, Eefreshing, cool, to heated, drooping flowers That bend beneath the beams of summer hours : Where'er she strayed, her pure and lovely mind, Would leave a thread of hopeful light behind. Swift as the young gazelle she bounded through The breezy woodlands fresh with early dew, And cropped the peeping buds that clustered there, To wreathe amid her flowing ringlets fair, Or danced beside the brooklet's pebbly bed, With step as airy as the young fawn's tread, And chased the unfledged nestling, tottering light, With little wings outspread to aid its flight Around the broad old meadow, glowing green. Where buttercups and sleepy daisies lean Their half-shut eyes ujDon the bolder blade, And lift their freshened lids, amid its shade, Or noiseless creep amid the vines entwined, From her who scampered with less speed behind, And breathless list, with throbbing heart, to greet The rain-like patter of her tiny feet, Then stuff her parted lips with russet gown, To keep the ill-suppressed titter down, As close she halted by her hiding-place, And scanned the premises with knowing face ; As through the parted leaves a shining eye Is peering down, she nimbly scrambles by, And gathering up her slender roe-like feet, O'er the bright meadow beats a quick retreat, 48 HEART-DROPS. With ringing laugh thrown on the summer wind, And leaves the little struggle! far behind. That mossy meadow — many a silver lay Hath floated there in childhood's halcj^on da}', As round the luscious berries clustering bright, "Were gathered busy fingers, black and white, To pick the rubies from the emerald sward, A dainty for the plain but plenteous board : And many a snowy tip grew red and gay, Tinged with the tide that slowly oozed away Beneath two hands, antagonistic, pressed, In haste to grasp the nicest and the best ; Yet far more ripe and tempting ones, I ween, Found home elsewhere, than on the board were seen ! And now I'll whisper of the dark-eyed boy, His father's pride, his mother's pet and joy ; Before his shout the panting rabbit sped, And in its burrow hid its throbbing head; The frisky squirrel from his height defied him, Securely lodged, and chattered as he eyed him. Ah, I remember when the Spring's first buds Began to blow upon the green hill sides, And lilies drooped within the golden beams, Upon the margin of the silver streams, How lightly his young foot the heather pressed, In surreptitious search of tiny nest Deep hid amid the fern and tangled hedge, Or peeping through the saturated sedge ; He'd count the globose treasures o'er, that crowned it, But leave the wiry nest-home as he found it, A.nd when, in Autumn, crowns of gold were laid Upon the forest brows, in tints arrayed — THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 49 When silken leaves, with Summer's life-tide red, In gorgeous drapery wove with sunlight-thread, Hung round the death-couch of the failing year, And Nature starred it with a farewell tear — The hushed old woods and rifled fields he'd scan, With dog and gun and think himself a man: Through the still hours the deep and sullen boom, Of hunter's gun to cottage home would loom, And in the mind of tiny girl at play, Awaken visions of the falling prey. And if by chance a fatal charge should launch A nimble quadruped from greenwood branch, With swelling soul he seized the wincing game, Proud as a poet of poetic fame ! Ga}' whistling to the snuffing, faithful scout, With most important air he'd wheel about, Fusee on shoulder, swinging precious store, And strike a line of march, nor wait for more — Lord of the wilds he strode the woodland drear, W ith stately pointer bringing up the rear, Until emerging into open ground, With gladsome whine, and ears erect, he'd bound Headlong adown the broad and sandy tr,aek, Full speed for cottage home — now looking back To see if youthful Nimrocl is in sight, Now plunging forward with renewed delight, Till gained the goal, he scales the trembling wall, And homeward march of Victor, tells to all. Upon the air there rings a merry shout, And in the breeze stray curls are floating out, As down the slight descent, with childish might, The little sister comes, like streak of light ; 50 HEART-DROPS. With well pleased smile he views her from afar, As on she flutters, like a shooting star, And at her, as she patters down the hill, He shakes the trophy of his wond'rous skill. Xow from the cottage door, a smile of joy Is gleaming, like a sunbeam, on her boy ; The good dame stands with ready heart and will, To pat his pate, and praise his manly skill ; Then snug ensconsed upon the shining floor, With much ado he " fights his battles o'er." Yet once again — I will essay to tell Of her, the wanderer wild o'er hill and dell ; The brown-haired, frail, and dreamy hazel-e} r ed, Who woodland's thickest barriers defied ; A sunny, tearful, visionary thing, With wayward fancy ever on the wing ; Close where the poplar lifts its leafy limbs, And the old casement with brown shadows dims, From morn till dewy eve she'd lie in trance, And drink the nectar of the last romance ! — Now creeping snail-like down the darkened stair, At farmer's bidding, to the waiting fare, Scarce touching it, yet dreaming all the while, Of Mortimer's or Sobieski's smile! Or picture an ideal, with delight, And fix her mind to love it at first sight! Poor child ! she drank the flavored beverage up, JSTor dreamed a serpent coiled within the cup ! Then back with springy step and brightened eye, Unto the treasured volume noiseless hie, Smooth back the leaf that marked the broken strain, Catch up the brilliant thread and wind again, THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. Scarce heeding the black eye and slender bill, That shine and clatter on the casement-sill, Of the red robm come from haunts remote, To pour out anthems from his tiny throat, Till startled by the turning of a page, With ruffled plumage would his might engage, And flit and perch upon the jessamine, Then stretch his little neck and look within, As though he wondered she should waste away The golden moments of so fair a clay. And when the gorgeous eve's last blushing ray, Crimsoned the brow of the departing day, With its warm kiss — and cloudlets, floating free, Like fairy barques skimming an azure sea, Lay calmly moored the golden stars amid, And the soft twilight's pale, dew-laden lid Drooped heavily upon night's misty cheek, And nature slumbered, like an infant meek, Down through the sighing grove, with silent tread, She'd wander off and linger 'mid the dead. That little graveyard, where the blue-box crept Above the form of him who early slept Beside that old brown church— and where the rose Its leaflets scattered at the summer's close, She'd roam around, till deeper shadows lay Above the jeweled moss of homeward way, Then startled by the low wind's plaintive moan, That seemed to her young ear a spirit tone, A furtive glance around the home of death, With whitened cheek and half-suspended breath, She'd doubtful cast, and conjure up a face, Sly peering from each silent resting place, 51 52 HEART-DROPS. Or fancy shadowy forms amid the leaves That swept, and rustled 'gainst the old church eaves !- With wild heart-throbs she'd fly like frightened dove, Through the dim haze of the ambrosial grove, Swift and more swift, as to her childish mind, Her echoes seemed like troopers close behind ! Till gained the cottage gate, then stand and peer Back through the gloom, and chide her idle fear. Ah me ! that little chapel, where the leaves Hung in thick clusters o'er the mossy eaves, And penciled purple patches o'er the sward, So smoothly spread around that silent yard, When from the open lattice of the east, A ruby hand drew up the cloud of mist That veiled the waking earth, and the bright eye Of Morn flew open with a languid sigh, And smiling Nature, meekly looking through Long lashes wet with drops of shining dew, Admired its own fair face, reflected bright, Within a broad, clear mirror of sunlight, Suspended by a golden cord on high, And let clown by Aurora from the sky— It was a blessed spot! Methinks I hear The drowsy murmurs of the waters clear, That washed along that wild-flower clotted base, Winding and flashing with bewitching grace, Leaving soft whispers as they crept from sight, Like silver serpent gliding through moonlight. Methinks I hear again, as long ago, The gifted preacher's deep and gushing flow Of holy sounds, as 'neath that sacred dome, He pointed upward to a heavenly home, THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 53 With, blue eyes beaming with intense delight, As beatific regions heaved in sight ; With form erect, and hand uplifted high, He'd paint the glorious home beyond the sky, Then in foreboding accents, low, portray The horrors of the retribution day, Delineating it with graphic zeal, And crown the consummation with a peal, From lifted hand upon the desk brought clown, To make you think 'twas the last trumpet's sound ! " An Israelite indeed," in whom no guile Lay hid beneath his warm and soul-felt smile; Hard by the cottage home, dim through the trees, That ofttimes shut it out, bent by the breeze, The good man had his home — a peaceful spot, Where cool recess and nook, and shady grot Uprose around that mammoth lawn of green, Where settling sunshine spread its silvery sheen, Faint struggling through the trembling foliage, down, To star with gold the sombre shades of brown ; And sloping gently to the wild waves' roar, The long lane leading to the good man's door, Swept round the angle, crossed 'by noisy rills, That rose beyond, and fell among the hills, So coolly trickling down the rugged side, You longed to stoop and drink the tempting tide, Now leaping edges 'mid the laurel leaves, And dripping like spring-rain from cottage-eaves, Then crawling lazily beneath a cloak Of velvet grass, into the dark Roanoke, Whose eddying waves climbed up the river's brink, In wreaths of spray, for infant buds to drink, 54 HEART-DROPS. That bend in groups, with half-closed eyes, and dream Upon the green edge of the dimpling stream, That softly sings a soothing lullaby, With bird-notes for a lingering symphony. Methinks I hear again the gleeful tone That echoed 'mid those hills in years agone, As o'er the crackling heath, the sounding beat, Went swelling onward, from the many feet That clambered up the wild and tangled height, Dragging "slow length along," with cheeks as bright As maple blossoms floating in a heap Of crimson, on the brook far down the steep — A happy group, ere yet the breath of years Had soiled the petals of the heart with tears ; A sister-band with girlish spirits free As the wild waves that walk the trackless sea. Where are they now — those fair unfettered ones, Whose bounding spirits gushed in ringing tones Around those dim old hills, as, side by side, They quit the summit for the glassy tide, Now clinging to the stems that kindly lent Support, to save them from too swift descent ; Half-pouting, laughing, as the wild-rose hedge They scrambled through clown to the water's edge — Where are they now — the group that gathered there? Goes dov/n the Past, and "echo answers — where?' See, yonder, crouched beneath a giant oak!^- That stretches out its long arms o'er Eoanoke, A form bespattered with its shiny tears, Whose head is silvered with the dust of years, Enticing hard the flirty, finny tribe, The writhing, dainty 'lurement to imbibe — THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD. 55 Offsprings a wilful one with streaming hair, To greet the well known angler dozing there, Looks coaxing in his face with pleading eye, And begs the good man "please to let her try.' 1 With kindly smile he yields the bending rod, And settles down into a quiet nod, Until arrested by a whispered sign, Bidding him wake and watch the bobbing line ; Good nature in his sleepy eye grows full, As o'er he leans, to teach her "when to pull ; With nervous swing she twirls her cottage hat, All heedless down upon the sobby plat, And firmly grasps the reed with both small hands, Awaiting with fixed gaze his wise commands; Off goes the taughtened line with sudden twirl, And round the sinking buoy the waters curl — Now comes the test — and with a meny peal, And mighty pull, out flirts a floundering — eel! Loud rose the cries, and off they scattered wide, Winding away along the dark hill-side With cautious tread, now peering through the brake, In search of rounded coil of dreaded snake. Fancy converting every harmless limb, Into like monster on the water's rim. The good man watches with a twinkling eye, And shakes his sides to see the young troop fly, Till round their forms the dusky hills are closing, Then dips the line, and sets again to dozing. Who of that girlish band that wandered free, Through the wild woods, or o'er the velvet lea, Or lingered, awed, around the vine-clad sod That rounded o'er the holy man of God, 56 HEART-DROPS. Or wove a brilliant wreath for years to come, Close by the beat of brooklet's drowzy drum, Or scrambled up the rough hill's dark defiles, Or bounded through the honeysuckle wilds, Dreamed that the future nursed a pensive lay, From far-off home, back to those scenes to stray, From one of that gay group whose trembling sigh Should waken up the slumbering years gone by, To whisper mournful to that parted train, Of joys departed ne'er to come again ? Yet so it was — of all, alone 'twas mine The fate to worship at the Muse's shrine — The dreamy Muse, that Solitude endears, Courted in smiles, yet oftener, far, in tears ! 1 deserted. Homestead ! none will ever know Delights surpassing those of long ago, When cozily around thy crackling fire, Was wheeled the "old arm-chair" of loving sire, Amid his little flock — while gathered snug, Poor Pussy purrs upon the warm hearth-rug, And softly patting at the window-pane Is heard the music of the drowsy rain — It was a happy hearth, but change hath come O'er all the scenes of that deserted home ! Sweet Lovelands, 'twas to thee I struck my lay, And with thy name my song shall melt away ; And with a parting glance far through the maze That clouds the distant scenes of other days, Unstring rny harp, and let the curtain fall — Alas, the change that hath come over all ! MOTHEB. 57 3#ot|nr. I'm thinking of the days, mother, The days now long gone by, When first in rosy infant years, I met thy loving eye. Thy cheek was shadeless then, mother, The light of youth was there, And beautiful the sunny beams Upon thy forehead fair. But now the hand of Time, mother, Hath flung a feeble trace — A veil of pensive thoughtfulness, Across thy blessed face. There's less of lightness now, mother, Within thy gentle tone ; Less of the soul's wild joy ousness, Than in the years agone. And yet thy cheek is smooth, mother, Thy wealth of jetty hair, The hand of Time hath swept, nor left A line of silver there. 5 58 HEART-DROPS. But ah ! the heart, the heart, mother, No change, with time, hath known ; Tis jet a full, free, gushing fount, As in the years agone. Ah me ! the years gone by, mother, I live them o'er again ; I'm bounding through the blossomed wilds, And o'er the mossy plain, Till, wearied with the race, mother, I lean upon thy breast, And find in thy supporting arms A cradle-home of rest. And when the fever-flush, mother, Was on my burning cheek, Methinks I see thy watching form, So like an angel meek, Bending above my aching head, To soothe its throbbing pain — Ah me ! a love like thine, mother, I ne'er shall know again ! I knew not all thy worth, mother, Till fate had traced a line, And reared a barrier of space Between thy heart and mine. But when with throbbing brow, mother, I roamed that distant land, A lone and yearning wanderer, Amid a stranger band ; MOTHER. 59 Ah. ! then I learned to feel, mother, We ne'er can find a rest, In this low world, so soft and true, As on a mother 's breast ! I never can repay, mother, The debt of love I owe, For all the care and tenderness Of now and long ago. And could I live the days, mother, The by-gone days all o'er, I would efface full many a trace, And strive to bless thee more ! There's many a thoughtless word, mother, Of childhood's careless day, And many a wild and heedless deed, I fain would sweep away. I would not tarry here, mother, "When thy life-cord is riven, But sleep with thee the sleep of death, And go with thee to Heaven ! For well I know I ne'er shall find A love within another, So fond and true and pure as thine, My own beloved mother ! 60 HEAET-DEOPS. f jji tn\ t ink is 36rnltrn, " But 'tis useless to upbraid thee "With thy past or present state ; What thou wast my fancy made thee, What thou art, I know too late." — Byron. The last link that bound me to thee is now broken, The heart that once loved thee is free ; The bosom whose peace you've invaded, gives token Of sighs, but it sighs not for thee. The bright buds that bloomed in life's earlier years, In this bosom lie blighted and dead, And the leaflets of Memory hang dripping with tears, For the joys that forever have fled ! You know I once loved thee, though now I am free, Ay, loved thee too fondly, in vain ; All the hopes of my young heart were given to thee, Ah ! can you return them again ? Can you give back the trust of life's roseate hours? The peace of an unfettered heart ? Can you give back the freshness to Love's faded flowers, Whose bloom thou hast bidden depart ? No more ! ah ! no more can their beauty return, So crushed by Wo's deadliest blast, And memory hangs weeping around the pale urn That marks the dark grave of the Past ! THE LAST LINK IS BROKEN. 61 I cannot npbraid thee — go ! go and forget ! Or smile at the wreck thou hast made ; Unnumbered with days, be the day that we met — Prelude to affection betrayed. The last link is broken — our paths lead apart — May coldness inspirit thy way, Nor Kemorse thrust its venomous fang to thy heart, For the bliss thou hast blasted for aye ! Farewell ! — what a waste of pale hopes lies afar, Evoked by that soul-stirring strain ! Sweet hopes that lie crushed with Love's earliest star, To bless us, ah ! never again ! Farewell ! thou hast darkened the heart that was thine ; 'Twas the semblance of Honor that bound it ; I'll return to thee calmly, the one that was mine, With no vine of affection around it. Farewell ! ay, farewell ! — all our dreamings were vain — Hadst thou known how this bosom could feel, Thou surely hadst spared it the withering pain, Beyond earthly power to heal ! Farewell ! — I can brave thy upbraidings and tears, Nor weep for the link that is broken ; The cords thou couldst waken, in long buried years, Give back to thy name not a token. Farewell and J "orever ! — when Thought wends away To the heart that once fondly was thine, Remembrance will whisper its maddening lay, And Eemorse stino- the one that was mine ! 62 HEART-DROPS, AN ELEGANT ALBUM, CONTAINING THE AUTOGRAPHS OF THE PRESIDENT, EX-PRESIDENT T , VICE PRESIDENT, HEADS OF THE DEPARTMENTS, SENATORS, AND MEMBERS OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. PRESENTED BY A MEMBER OF THE THIRTY-FIRST CONGRESS. My noble Coz, I may not rightly tell How much I prize thy gift, invaluable ; I've turned and turned each glossy leaf of white, Unfolding gems, the brightest in the crown Of a proud nation's glory. And I've thought Of tinselled wealth, and dreamed of laurelled Fame, Till the faint lingerings of a roseate day Have melted in the mist of twilight dim, And the fair, virgin moon, of palest gold, Peeps down with love, from her blue home afar, Shaking her shining tresses of soft beams Upon each page of pearl. And sparkling dew Comes dripping from the urn of the fringed night, To the sweet, waxen cups of half-blown flowers, That bend their jeweled rims to the red lip Of light-browed fays, that stoop to drink The cooling nectar. Away in the deep sea Of Heaven's blue, floats out a shining fleet Of stars, that tip the violet waves of air, MY CASKET OF GEMS. Go With golden fringe, but pales to silver, in The clear, deep lake of light, that brightly bears The gondola of the gay Queen of Night, Upon its breast of beams. Oh ! I have gazed Upon this sea of azure, tinged with dyes, Till Thought flew up, and painted a bright name, With pencil dipped in ether's vase of hues, Upon each star-barque floating on the flood Of the blue ocean of immensity. Dear Coz, how like the wreath of star-gems, twined In yonder heaven, this circlet here, that binds Our nation's brow. That spans a world of love ; This gilds fair Freedom's coronal of pride, Shedding rich lustre on her marble dome, Speeding our glorious Eagle in her flight, Upward and onward to the brilliant sun. But one bright star lies crushed, and darkly dim, On the dull brow of Death ! A star hath set Since first this fillet wound these silken leaves ; Its struggling beams, folded in sable shroud, Lies dimmed for aye, beyond the walls of Time ! Ah ! soon the hands that wrought this living wreath, Shall, too, lie cold ! Proud hearts shall pulse no more, And lips, all eloquent, shall hush in death ! Oh ! when the Monarch of the misty Tomb, Eobs Earth's tiara of each burnished beam That glitters here, Heaven grant the immortal part Of crushed Mortality may float for aye, Upon the eternal beams of His own love ! 64 HEART-DROPS % Itttr jut If $tt. (TO THE MEMORY OF THE HON. J. C CALHOUN, OF SOUTH CAROLINA.) A Star hath set ! the last faint gleam of gold Hath faded out in darkness ! Never more The sparkling gem shall stud the coronet Of a proud nation's glory ! " Nevermore I" Ah ! never shall the zenith of a sky Of mighty grandeur, give its splendor back, To gild the brow of Earth ! Plucked from its throne Of star-girt majesty, the Spoiler's hand, Tinged with the quivering blaze of mortal Fame, Folds up the struggling beams in sable shroud, And lays them down beyond the walls of Time. Out from its ocean-grave, no prisoned ray Shall glimmer back, far o'er the trackless way, To tinge the wreath wrought by an Intellect Of loftiest power. A wreath that twines In deathless lustre, round the Parian urn Of mortal might. A star hath set, in gloom ! No more the forum of a nation proud, Shall hail its rise ! The Spoiler's tyrant grasp A STAR HATH SET. 65 Gives back no gathered gem from Earth's rich crown. Oh, conquerer Death! Despoiler, thou shall yield Thy jewels up. Thy brazen shield shall crush Beneath thy stolen spoil ! What hast thou done ! Climbed to the summit of a nation's pride, And hurled its glory down ! — torn from its crest A gem to decorate thy midnight brow ! — Kobbed Earth's tiara of a burnished beam ! Give back thy prize, oh Death ! yield up thy prey ! Heaven tears thy wrested wealth of Earth away ! Hope ! kiss the dew from sweet Affection's eye, And softly hush fond nature's mourning sigh ; Then plume thy sunny wings and float away, To seek the splendor of a stolen ray, Amid the beams of Heaven's tiara. Oh monarch Death ! fold up thy sable wing, Nor boast the anguish of thy maddening sting, "Eternal Hope" a healing balm can bring, To cheat thy hate Oh lustrous, fadeless star ! The glory of thy brilliance burns afar ! Affection's heart, Hope's golden way hath trod, To hail thy dawn before the throne of God ! 66 HEART- DROPS. 3 it 'Xminnt tjim's $Ud. What though the wings of darkness spread Above my head, And sorrow's wild and icy dart Is at my heart ; This can relume my darkened breast. In Heaven there's Rest. I'm wandering in a varied way Of chansreful rav ; I'm roaming through a thorny maze Of changing clays ; Yet this can give to life a zest. In Heaven there's Rest. Let falsehood stain life's fairest leaf, With withering 'grief, And perish Love's most cherished bloom, Within the tomb, Yet this can gild Hope's fading crest. In Heaven there's Rest AN ALLEGORY. 67 % it 51 1 1 nj n r if . It was the sweet, the dewy hour of eve ; Star-gems bespangled the deep azure scroll That bright unrolled above the quiet breast Of dreaming Earth. A voice of music strange, Like spirit-whispers stole upon my ear, And wheresoe'er it listed, led us on. I saw a purling stream of sparkles bright, Bearing upon its light and silvery wave, Innumerable gems and jewels rare, That flashed and sparkled in the glad sunshine, To wistful e}-es of thousands crowded round Its emerald rim, to drink the liquid tide, And grasp with eager hands the golden freight. And saw I one in manhood's glowing prime, Turn from its bed the richly burdened tide, And unmolested by obtruding hands, With burning lips and brightly flashing ej^cs, He fondly gathered up the burnished ore, Delighted clipping in the bright cool wave, Till Life's sun to meridian arose. As from the zenith slowly sank the orb, A beauteous spirit softly fluttered down, 68 HEAET-DEOPS. On bright and painted wings of loveliest line, Through ether's blue immense, and gentty touched The o'er-enamored toiler. Startled wide, Upon the bright-winged messenger he gazed, And tremulously whispered — "What wouldst thou?" ANGEL. "Poor mortal ! I have watched thee long and well, From fair and earliest dawn of rosy life- Through blissful, buoyant youth with thee have gone, And shielded thee and blessed thy bounding heart ; And pitying thee, in manhood's fairest years, I come from yonder bright abode of bliss — Together let us reason. What is man ? He cometh forth as a flower and is cut down ; He fleeth as a shadow and is not ; His life, a vapor, melteth soon away ; Then whose shall all these hoarded treasures be ? Wilt thou heap wrath against the day of wrath ? If he shall win the whole of earth and lose Eternity, what is man profited ? Away from this unsatisfying stream, That rolls its golden stores to lure to death ! I, Righteousness of Purity's bright band, Will lead thee to a deep and crystal fount, Whose waters quaffed, thou nevermore shalt thirst." Upon the shining speaker's cherub face, That glowed with pure angelic loveliness, The toiler gazed entranced, and murmured, faint — AN ALLE GORY. "Almost thou dost persuade to be of thee I" Now on the singing waves that seemed to flash With light unwonted, fell his thoughtful eye, And bent caressing o'er the baubles bright, He madly cried " For this time go thy way ! In time convenient I will call for thee !" A pitying tear the kindly Angel dropped O'er the infatuated child of earth, Then spread his painted wings and soared away, Up to the throne, through ether's violet sea. Amid the golden gems that floated on, Upon the dazzling tide, the sunbeams grouped, And warmed his fevered brow as on he toiled, To grasp the brilliant jewels rolling on, Thick clustering to his feet, exhaustless. The slanting rays of pale and feeble gleams, Bespoke the harvest past, the summer gone ! Again a spirit bright with pinions broad, On music winds waved down and softly touched, With golden wand, the toiler's heated brow. The glittering dross he tremblingly resigned, And on the shining form affrighted gazed. SECOND ANGEL. " Mortal, seest thou yon sun how faint it gleams, As low it stoopeth down to yon dark sea? Soon shall it set for aye, beneath its tide ! Soon as its golden urn shall dip yon waves, Thy soul shall be the sport of mocking fiends, Who lure 4 thee thus so sweetly on in Time, 69 70 HEAKT-DROPS. To torture thee throughout Eternity ! Awake thou sleeper ! for thy life escape ! In all the plain stay not ! I, Temperance, Of Love's pure band, will guard thee to yon mount, And panoply thy form, that thou mayest stand Firm in the evil day." MOETAL. " Spirit, see here ! How soothingly these sjDarkling jewels sing, Upon the bosom soft of this sweet stream ! Let me but gather these that glow so fair, And then, bright Angel, I will go with thee !" With eyes bedewed with warm compassion-pearls, The cherub plumed his light and sunny wings, And floated back to join the angel-choir. Eve's shadows fluttered o'er the withered brow Of the pale straggler. Life's chill, wintry winds Swept round his drooping form as on he toiled, Beside the witching stream. The fading sun His last, and lengthened beam of burnish threw Amid his snowy locks, ere it withdrew Forever. Upon its fading beauty, In distance paling, smilingly he gazed, And whiles he murmured with a tranquil brow — " Soul, thou hast much in store for many years, Eat, drink, and merry be " — a seraph wing, The evening zephyr broke, and radiant form, In awful majesty descended near. Before the brilliant glance he trembling shrank, And cowered 'neath the sword suspended o'er. AN ALLEGORY. 71 THIRD ANGEL. " Judgment-to-come, mortal, the name I bear, Of Justice's bold and never-yielding band ; Almost thy days are numbered ; goeth down Thy sun of Life in dim and starless night. Rejected, scorned, two spirit-messengers, Hast thou, poor mortal ! quail you not Before Judgment-to-come, the glittering sword Of Justice, shall be speedily unsheathed, And find a scabbard in tlry mangled soul!'' And as he reasoned long of righteousness, Of temperance, and of judgment to conic, The guilty toiler trembled. MORTAL. " Spirit, see here ! Almost this golden cup is running o'er! A little longer let me gather up The sparkling gems, and brim this silver urn, And then, fair cherub, I will go with thee! A voice from Heaven sounded in his ear — "Unto his idols joined ! — let him ah And the bright spirit of the Lord went up ! 'Twas midnight, and the toiler's aching head, A thorny pillow pressed ; and as he watched The seeming flight of some far-distant one. In agony he shrieked — " Come back ! come back !" 72 HEAET-DEOPS. A dark one laid his wan and icy hand Upon his pallid brow, — " Not thou ! not thou!" In deep despair, he cried : "No mercy here!" The mocker laughed, and wrapped his ebon wings, The icy form around, and bore him down, Deep down to deathless avo ! Long years rolled on ; Upon the boiling waves the toiler rose ; — I heard a watchman cry "Oh, spirit lost! What wouldst thou, in exchange, give for thy soul?" A shout of agony came bounding o'er The rock-cased gulf of deep and dark despair — SPIRIT LOST. "Each particle of earth, go number o'er; A million ages to each atom tell ; Compute the whole, — as many ages hei-e, If then Eternity, Eternity might end !" A fiendly host with horrid wo begrimmed, Upon the wild and raging waves arose ; The smoking waters heaved beneath the swell, Of misery's mighty group of tortured souls ; And racked that dark abode, a loud, long wail, From spirits lost — "Watchman what of the night?" A torturing sound rolled back from Zion's wall — " Eternity, thou fool, Eternity !" love's young dream. 73 £nr T s fnttitg Dnitnt. She left her childhood's home, A young and trusting bride ; To distant lands he bore her, In triumph by his side. She thought not of the future, The friends she left behind, For in his arms she only, True happiness could find. She bade farewell to scenes Where her first hours were passed, And not one shade of sadness Her sunny brow o'ercast. Her young and pure affections To him were wholly given, His smile dispelled life's every care, With him this world was heaven. 6 ^4 HEAKT-DEOPS. And he was worthy of her — That noble, generous breast Was but the seat of virtues Which give to life a zest. She was his earthly idol, No other lips had power To soothe his troubled spirit In dark misfortune's hour. ****** * * * * * * ****** ****** Time flew. Long years rolled by, And noted as they passed, That yet no change was wrought ; But ah ! it came at last I Too soon, alas ! she saw Her fondest hopes decay, All joy, and Love's Young Dream In sorrow passed away ! Far from her native land She dwelt on former hours, When time swept softly by, And strewed her way with flowers, When friends that ne'er could change, Were ever by her side, With words of love and smiles of light, ■ For her, their joy and pride. LOVE'S YOUNG- DREAM. 75 But lie ? Ah ! was lie false ? Could faithlessness e'er rest Within that once fond heart, With noblest virtues blest? Ah no — he loved her still — A pure and sacred flame, Upon the altar of his heart, Burned, as of yore, the same. He gazed upon that cheek, From which the rose had fled. What thought he ? That her heart For him with anguish bled? Ah no ! the green-eyed monster Around his heart had coiled ! He nourished it, and Eden's bowers Were soon of peace despoiled ! He thought she loved another, And madness filled his brain, No tears, or fond devotion, Could confidence regain ! And yet he treasured all Her words and looks of yore, Her smiles of trusting fondness He ivould not hope for, more ! But why distrust the truth Of one who all resigned For him, and sought afar True happiness to find? 76 HEART-DROPS. Alas ! some thoughtless glance Had wrung a heart so zealous ; She durst not look above, A star could make him jealous ! That breast, once true and noble, Was now dark passion's throne, But ah ! he wept in madness, O'er joys forever flown! Whoe'er would find perfection — That gem of priceless worth — Go seek it in yon heaven, 'Tis not of mortal birth. At length she read it all — She took his icy hand, And sighed, " Farewell, forever ! I seek my native land !" Despair now filled his bosom — He read his future fate In her indignant glances — Alas ! what woes await ! Too late he learned his madness, And knelt in humbled pride Before that injured creature, His gentle, spotless bride. Too well he loved, he said, And mourned his hapless fate ; He deep repentance felt — But ah — it came too late I love's young dream. 77 * * * * * -Jr * * * * * ■* ****** ****** She sought her childhood's home, A sad and hopeless bride ; From distant lands she wandered Back to her father's side. She thought now of the future, The one she left behind, Far from his bosom, never She happiness could find. Once more she greeted scenes Where halcyon hours were passed, But now deep shades of sadness O'er her pale brow were cast. For, ah ! her first affections Had early been betrayed, And all her words and smiles of love, With dark distrust repaid ! She lingered o'er the Past With sad though vain regret ; Unworthy though she knew him, She never could forget. She mingled with the gay, The fairest of them all ; But ah ! the heart was absent, No joy could on it fall ! 78 HEAET-DEOPS. To Heaven she turned, and sought Forgetfulness in prayer, And in oblivion's shade To throw corroding care. 'Twas vain! "Within a darkened room She lay — that being fair — No murmur 'scaped her lips, but ah ! The heart was breaking there ! * * * * * * ****** *.***** * * * * * -K- He came. She knew him not — That youthful, lovely brow, In life with sadness veiled, Was calm and placid now. He pressed those pale, cold lips, He oft had kissed with pride, 'Twas done — Love's Dream had fled — He breathed her name and died ! WHEN SHALL WE ALL MEET AGAIN? JO Wfym sjroll m III mni xtgutit ? When the waves of Time are still, When its pulses cease to thrill — When the toils of earth are done, When its varied course is run — When shall hush the saddened sigh, When the parting tear shall dry — When the aching head shall rest From its weight of cares oppressed — When beyond all mortal pain, Then, oh ! then we'll meet again ! Where sweet flowers perennial bloom, Where the green turf hides no tomb — Where bright, living waters flow, Where the fruits of Pleasure grow — Where unceasing raptures rise, Where no bud of Joy e'er dies — Where the songs of praise ne'er end, But with Love their softness blend — "Where immortal spirits reign," There oh ! may we meet again ! 80 HEART-DROPS. iistrr. TO D. ELLEN GOODMAN, OF SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS, Why don't you come and sing, my loye? We've waited all too long To catch the low iEolian tone Of thy sweet mountain song. Don't you remember songsters flee Unto our Southern clime, To make their softest melody In Autumn's glorious time ? Then, warbler, plume thy spirit-wings, And quit thy Northern bowers ; The chill that shrouds thy beauties all, Lies gently yet o'er ours. There's many a lovely eye of blue, And many a rosy cheek, Half-hid beneath the quivering leaves, Still smiling pure and meek. SISTER. 81 We love to look upon their brows, And meet their azure eye, And watch their lines of braided light Grow brighter as they die, "We hear a voice in fading flowers, And falling leaflets say We soon, like them, must fade and fall, And silent pass away ! There's wisdom in the drooping things That bend in Autumn's breath, Telling to frail Mortality A tale of change and death ! They say 'tis sad to see the rose And Summer's bright green leaf Fold up their soft and silken dyes In "sear and yellow" grief. But we could never think it sad, Or breathe a lonely sigh To see the lovely things of earth Wither away and die. For in the low, hushed dreaminess That steals the breath of flowers, The heart of Nature seems to beat In unison with ours. There is a kindred loneliness In Autumn's whispered tone, Half-sorrowing, yet not sad, that wakes An echo like its own. 82 HEART-DROPS. Why should we sigh, to see them die, The beautiful of earth, The fairy Spring will shortly fling New brightness o'er their birth. And when at length their infant strength Shall wake to light and bloom, How shall we prize their laughing eyes, Just peeping from the tomb ! For there's a deeper thrill of joy That waits the absent dear — A wilder bound o'er long-lost found, Than what is always near. Then let them lie, with bright blue eye Beneath the ice-shroud hid, A spirit away in a sunnier day, Will lift up their waxen lid. Oh ! never let the shade of hours, Fall o'er thy harp's bright string ; When Nature's gladness all hath fled, Then is the time to sing. When Winter comes to still the throb Of Nature, with his darts, Let's rear a wall of sun and song, To keep him from our hearts. There are blossoms in our breasts, my love, That Winter cannot blight, A garden of perpetual bloom, That may be ever bright, SISTER. 83 "Pis true vicissitudes may fling Around it shadows chill, But there are heart-buds 'neath the shade, To burst and blossom still. Far more than half the ills we meet Are blessings in disguise ; When Time hath lifted up their mask. They're lovely in our eyes. And real ills that crowd about Our life-way dim and drear, Imagination magnifies With, trembling, idle fear. Then let us smile, as down the aisle Of life, we silent glide, • And shun the shade that clouds the glade, And seek the brightest side. For there's a hand that gently slopes Our pathway to the tomb ; A mighty arm to shield from harm, And guide us through earth's gloom — A kindly power that lights each hour, And smooths our pathway here ; Then let us go through weal or wo, Nor ever faint or fear. Then come from thy far-off home, my love, And wander through Southern bowers ; We've waited long for thy mountain song To whisper of Autumn hours. 84 HEAET-DEOPS. There are beauties abroad in this sunny land, Handmaidens of father Time, Bestarred with the gold that his lavish hand Hath showered in this fair clime. We met them of late in the deep old woods, Where they listed the Autumn breeze, That swept back the tresses to kiss their cheeks, Then singing went through the trees. 'Twas a playful sprite that wandered that night. Let loose at the twilight hour, For the leaves that it met flew off in a pet, And fell in a glittering shower. We thought as we gazed on the forest's brow, By the light of a sunset ray, That an angel had been to the summer's urn, To gather its tints all away, And halting awhile 'neath the dark, cool shade, The lovely, returning saint, While sleeping had tilted her vase of hues, And sprinkled all earth with the paint ! Then come from thy Northern home, my love, And sing to the drooping flowers ; There are stranger hearts that would gladly rove With thee, in these Autumn hours, But there's another silent harp Unstrung in " Tara's hall ;" The world hath made a loop of care, And hung it on the wall ! SISTER. Oil ! is it not unkind, my love, The world so cold should grow, As to seal up the fount of song And leave us waiting so ? The world with all its witching wiles, Might woo me with its art, Its zealous hand could never shut The lattice of my heart. No ! let me rove unfettered, free, Along fair Fancy's strand, And gather shells of memory In an ideal land. They're frail and tintless ones, I know, But all of earth's false art, Could never soothe the void they fill Within a yearning heart. Oh ! would some kindly sprite would steal Away to "Tara's hall," And softly loose that silent harp, And gently let it fall! The echo that its strings would wake, Might win a lovelier lay, For minstrel hearts so soft are framed, A whisper can betray. ****** * vr -If -5fr * -3f * * -X- *. * * * * * -A" * * 36 HEART-DROPS. Good night, my love — my song is clone, The stars are in the sky ; The moon looks through my casement here, From her blue throne on high. Good night — yet shall it, sister, be, That I have sung in vain ? I'll sing no more, indeed, my love, Till you begin the strain. <&\i SSrrntij nf iCor. Dearest, I sit in lingering light, Weaving a song for thee ; Oh ! from my full heart may it float, A strain of melody, To waken in thy bosom's fane, Remembrance like its own, And waft from out thy sunny heart, Thy long unlisted tone. THE BREATH OF LOVE. 87 To mingle with the happy dreams To soothe fond Memory, As down the dell of dormant days, It wends away to thee. To thee, dear Kate ! to thee, my own ! — Love of my childhood's years, Soother of all my infant griefs, Sharer of girlhood's tears. Oh ! if omniflc will were mine, Thy life, dear Kate, were this : A barge festooned with loveliness, And freighted deep with bliss ; And each bright year unlinked from Life By Time's soft hand would be Like to a blossom-belted isle Within a smiling sea. And as adown the stream of days, Unruffled by a blast, Thy barque swept on, each hope would be A gem in all the Past. And I would weave a wreath, dear Kate, A wreath befitting thee, Whose pearly hue would typify Thy true heart's purity. I would not twine the blushing- bud O Amid thy wavy hair, Nor mate the lily of the vale With aught less pure or fair. 88 HEART-DROPS. The tinted rose with all its pride, Thy brow would not adorn, For though its breath exhales perfume, Its heart enfolds a thorn ! And when Life's years were all unstrung By Age's feeble hand, Love's golden links would pave thy way Up to the better land. But ah ! dear Kate, what fragile thoughts Float through Utopia's clime ; For life is but a "bridge of sighs," Thrown o'er the gulf of Time ! And we must walk the varying way, And wander far apart ; But though our paths converge not here, We'll still be one in heart. They say that Time can baffle Love, And shut its starry eye, But Love enkindled by true worth, Can never change or die. Nor fame, nor wealth, nor beauty's grace, Can fetter my full heart, And if my soul is blent with thine, I know thee — as thou art. You know how well I loved thee, Kate, In life's unsullied day, When my unfolding, tiny heart Upon thy bosom lay ; THE BREATH OF LOVE. You know how I was wont to fold My girlish arms to rest, And dream of " Heaven and glorious things," Soft pillowed on thy breast. And how I loved to steal a kiss On thy unconscious brow ; Oh ! I would give a world, sweet Kate, To press its polish now ! I will not, dearest, think that we Shall meet on earth no more ; No ! let us hope to meet again, And live the by-gone o'er ; But if ere then, my dreamless heart, Sleeping in earth should lie, I'll watch thee from the stars, dear Kate, And bless thee from the sky. Yet should thy spirit be the first To print a golden star Upon the drapery of eve That falls in folds afar; Oh ! wreathe thy angel wings, dear Kate, Around this heart of mine, And soothe its wo, till (rod shall give Its pulsings back to thine. And when the last faint sigh of life, From this hushed heart is riven, Well loved on earth, we then shall meet, In heaven, dear Kate, in heaven! 7 90 HEART I