Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

MUSIC.

Oн yes, the sounds were sweet as those
That die away at Evening's close,
And gentle as the tones that fall
From waters wildly musical.
But Music is not dear to me,
It wakes too much of memory ;-
There is a spell in Music's sigh

That breathes too much of days gone by ;—
The silver tone, the sweet voiced shell,
To me are as the sad farewell
Of parting lovers. Music wakes
The wildest throbs, and Music takes
Each shape of fancy; but it brings
To me the shades of lovely things
Past, and for ever, hopes deferred,
Or, like the song of the spring bird,
Dying when sweetest. Music's sigh
First taught me love's idolatry,
Waked my young heart to find (too late)
It might be left all desolate;

To curse the dream-like life before,
To love the once loved song no more;
To know, hope, genius, spirit fled,
Soul-sickness, feeling withered !—
Rather be mine the heartless smile,
A flower upon the lava; while
Beneath is flame and barrenness,
The colours do not glow the less.

I bade my heart once be my world,

And dreamed it could; but I was hurled

From my enchanted pinnacle

Of hope, of joy, of trust, to dwell

Mid those stern truths which chilled that heart;

And bade youth's fairy lights depart.

And Music has to me a tone

Sacred to thoughts, to feelings gone,

When love was faith, or ere I knew
Its altar frail, its sigh untrue,—
That it was like the hues that spring
Upon the rainbow's wandering.

But, now,

those feelings cannot be ;

Their echo is too sad for me;

For what can Music breathe me now?

The blighted hope, the broken vow!
Literary Gazette.

L. E. L.

SONNET,

ON CONTEMPLATING THE MINIATURE OF A DECEASED

FRIEND.

YES! I have felt of life that weariness

Which will, at times, steal o'er a hapless few,
Crushing all hopes of bliss ;-but, while I press
Thine image to my heart, I can review
My sad career with smiles, to think how true
To friendship thou did'st prove, even in the hour
When darkest frowned my fate, and fiercest blew
Misfortune's bitter storm! I lack the power
To thank thee as I wish.-Peace to thy shade!
Thou died'st at distance from me, and thy grave
Rises on foreign shores ;-yet, oft conveyed
Thither in Fancy's magic car, I lave

With burning tears the spot, and sighing, say,-
Would with thy life mine own had passed away!
Literary Gazette.

YOUTH.

There's not a joy the world can give, like that it takes away.'

OH Youth! in such a world as this,

Why doth thy morning-ray,

[ocr errors]

Thy pure and natural blessedness,'
So early fade away?

That lustre of the cloudless soul,
Seen dawning in thine eye;

Those thoughts that spring without controul,
As young birds flutter by;

Hopes, that bloom like flowers unbid,

And dew-drop tears, that leave no stain ;— Emotions, not a moment hid,

And joy, without its after pain;

And guilelessness, faith, fervour, all,
Like the blossoms in the wind;

Why fall!-or leave not when they fall,
Maturing fruit behind?

Oh Manhood! with the busy brow!
Age! with the 'world-worn' heart!
Where rests Remembrance oftenest now,
Reviewing life's past part?

Say, on ambition's proudest hour?

Fame's, fortune's hard-won steep? On the wild stir of this world's power, That dark, unfathomed deep, Where human passions, human pride,

To fury lash its form,

Till peace, hope, virtue, all allied,
Sink helpless in the storm ?

Beyond these scenes,-beyond, how far!

Their memories both will turn

To those which, distant as a star,-
As radiant too, still burn.

Each eye will turn to Childhood's years,
، Each heart be inly stirred,

، And the same sounds be in his ears,
'As in those days he heard ;'
While simple feelings, guileless thought,
Affections, long grown dim,
Return, with all the freshness fraught,
They bore in youth for him.
First friendships rising on his soul,
As once they rose before;

Then shed awhile the sweet controul
They now can shed no more!
And so will manhood's brow be calm,
And age's heart be light;

For these are memories breathing balm;"
These, memories ever bright.

Oh Youth ! thou spring of human life,
First, fairest of our dreams !

How lovely, 'midst this world's dire strife,
Thy rainbow-beauty, seems !
Thy unworn soul, all dewy-bright,
And opening like a flower!

But ah ! it droops and closes quite,
In age's evening hour!

Frail, fair possession!-Yet I know
Thy frailty wisely given ;-
For beings always young below,
Would never seek for heaven!

M. J. J.

A FAREWELL.

IF e'er by words can be expressed

The mind of man when broken hearted,

Or sighs or tears console the breast

From what it loves for ever parted;

Then every grief I have to tell,

'Mid sighs just breathed and tears just started, Read thou in this wild word Farewell!

DUTY AND PLEASURE.

BY MRS. PIOZZI.

DUTY and Pleasure, long at strife,
Crossed in the common walks of life ;-
'Pray don't disturb me, get you gone,'
Cries Duty, with a serious tone:

Then, with a smile; keep off, my dear,
Nor force me thus to be severe.'

'Dear Sir,' cries Pleasure, 'you're so grave;
You make yourself a perfect slave:
I can't think why we disagree;
You may turn Methodist for me:
But, if you'll neither laugh nor play,
At least dont't stop me on my way;
Yet sure one moment you might steal,
To see the lovely Miss O'Neil:
One hour to relaxation give;

Oh! lend one hour from life-to live!
And here's a bird, and there's a flower ;-
Dear Duty, walk a little slower.'

'My morning's task is not half done,'
Cries Duty with an inward groan;
"False colours on each object spread,
I know not whence, or where, I'm led!
Your boasted Pleasures mount the wind,
And leave their venomed stings behind.
Where are you flown ?'-Voices around
Cry, Pleasure long hath left this ground;
Old Age advances; haste away!
Nor lose the light of parting day.
See Sickness follows; Sorrow threats;-
Waste no more time in vain regrets :--
O Duty! one more effort given
May reach perhaps the gates of heaven,
Where, only, each with each delighted,
Pleasure and Duty live united!'
Literary Gazette.

« PredošláPokračovať »