But what are all these bowers to me,
When wasting waters darkly roll,
A veil that drives the lingering gleam
Of sunshine from the weeping soul.
I would not mourn, if we could bind
Again the links that fate will sever;
But when our quivering lips shall say
'Farewell! farewell! we part for ever!'
When the last gleam of thy dark eye
Fades like a lovely star at night,
Deeper and wider grows the gulf
That hides me from its softened light.
Oft in sweet dreams beyond the wave,
Will thy dear image greet my eyes!
Like the first blush of new-born day,
Amid the darkness of the skies.
And I shall take thy hand in mine,
And hear again thy tender lay;
But reason will resume her throne,
To sweep the transport sweet away.
My aching head still turns its gaze
Along the wild and trackless main,
As though the bark that skims its flood
Would give its idol back again.
WE sat together at the self-same desk,
And learned our task as 'twere from the same book;
For she would borrow mine, and I would take
The one that bore her name, for in our hearts
We thought 'twas easier to commit our part,
When the exchange was made. From simple acts
Like those, a chain was forged, whose iron links
Were cast about our lives; from off the page
I now began to lift my eyes to read
The pictured stories of her own; at first,
She wondered why I looked so long, and why
My lesson oft was left unsaid; and when
The truth flashed on her maiden heart, she blushed,
And hung her head, like a sweet violet, wet
With dew. Days rolled along, and Anna stood
On the threshold of Eternity. I had watched
The blooming of the flower that I had hoped
To wear in mine own bosom; but death breathed
On it, and it folded up its leaves and died..
I did not murmur; no, my grief was far
Too deep for outward signs! but yet I felt
All the agony that dwells beyond the reach
Of tears, in the wells of the inner heart,
That was circled round with thorns. and I drew
My chain in weariness along. I felt it all
Like one left in a desert land, with none
To cheer the awful gloom. High above were
The azure skies wearing a smile that seemed
To mock my grief; no wonder that my brain
Reeled, and became a wreck, for she was all
That made life happy; the horizon of my
Distant hopes, the light streaming from the gate
Of heaven upon my soul, I heard, nor sound
Of bird, or stream, or tree, but she would bend
Upon me her meek eyes, as if to bless.
I never wandered but I wished her by
My side; and when I saw a flower that sprang
Up in my path, if it was beautiful—
They are all beautiful-I sighed that she,
My darling one, was not there to mingle with it
Her sweet breath. I could not gaze upon the sky
Alone, for in its saint-like beatitude
Was imaged her perfection; the soft hour
Of twilight brought her to my side, in all
The blessedness attending life; the stars
Seemed to write her name in heaven, and I. looked
For ever upward. Music, with all its power
To charm, passed away unheeded, if its voice
Was not in 'cordance with her own; my hopes,
My fears, my joys, were all for her; my prayers
Were but a murmuring of her, a
Whispering of its spirit to its God
Through her, and when I sleeped and dreamed, she
Came and poured into my ears rich melodies,
Till the soul, entranced, looked through the golden arch
Of paradise. I knew it was a sin
For me to hang my whole existence on
A thread that time would break; for me to love
So wildly well, that earth, and heaven, and God,
Were held together by a feeble breath.
But thus it was, and I had grown a blind
Idolater, worshipping at earthly shrines,
And drinking from broken cisterns which have
Never satisfied the soul, till the temple
God was overthrown and broken, and I
Was left without a hope, save that which sprang
From out the ruins of despair.
LOVE's breath is in the vernal breeze
That fans the cheek on twilight eves;
Love's breath exhales from out the rose,
When morn unfolds its crimson leaves,
Love's breath is in the murmuring sound
That o'er the babbling fountain rings;
Love's breath is in the little song
The little bird to nature sings.
Love's breath from yonder starry worlds
Comes down in ether, pure and bright:
Love's breath is in the winter's storm,
And in the summer breeze of night;
Warm looks of love from nature's face
Allure me to her beating heart;
Lost in her fond and pure embrace,
My breast forgets its aching smart.
Love's breath-it is God's holy breath
That unto thee, my heart, is given-
Whose gentle impulse, sweet and pure,
Doth softly raise thee up to heaven!
There shall that earthly plant put forth
Eternal flowers, that ne'er shall fall;
Ah! I shall love! and love! and love!
Since love is but the life of all!
I'M from thee now, I'm from thee now,
I miss thee from my side;
And all alone, and all alone,
I'm floating down time's tide,
And wearily, and drearily,
My life-boat speeds along;
For she has gone,
For she has gone,
Who cheered me with her song.
I miss thee now, I miss thee now,
Though other forms are near;
For only thou, for only thou,
To me art ever dear.
I hear their laugh, their ringing laugh,
And then I think of thee;
For only thine,
For only thine,
I'm sighing now, I'm sighing now,
Throughout the dreary day;
For her I love, for her I love,
I left far, far away.
And when I think, I can but think,
That she may prove untrue;
That maddening thought,
With misery fraught,
Turns all to sable hue.
Those eyes so bright, whose beaming light,
Would cheer my lonely heart;
And o'er my soul sweet transports roll,
And bid all cares depart
No more I see, no more I see,
For she is from my side;
And all alone,
And all alone,
I'm floating down time's tide.
I LOVED little Hatty-yes-once I did love-
I tried every way my devotion to prove;
When she leaned on my arm and chatted away,
I kept thinking and thinking what more I could say.
She cared not for jewels-she cared not for gold-
That these should be hers-she once had been told;
I ne'er shall forget the answer it brought!
Kind sir! Hatty's love can never be bought!
She cared not for praises-with everything fair
I did her beautiful self compare
The stars, the birds, the flowers, the snow-
She'd laugh and say-she knew 'twas so!
Stranger still-she cared not for fame!
I told her the world was sounding my name;
She tossed back her curls in a right witching way,
Replying-Is all of it truth that they say?
Misfortune came o'er me-my fame had gone,
My riches like the dew had flown;
I told little Hatty my hopes were all fled-
To think of me now, as one thinks of the dead.
Then-then-how she raised her speaking eye-
And her angel voice breathed this in reply:
If fortune, if praises, if fame, are all gone,
I will love you, dearest, for yourself alone.
How shall I picture thee, ladye fair,
How thine enchantments tell?
How shall I sing of thy raven hair,
How of thy bosom's swell?
Duskily drooping o'er summer seas
Lowers the motionless night;
Gently the waves with the morning breeze
Heave in the rosy light.
Soft is the sigh of the ravished shell,
That moans for its parted seas;
Sad is the clang of the passing bell,
As it dies on the evening breeze;
Sweetly arising from twilight trees
The notes of the night-bird swell;
But softer, and sweeter, and sadder than these
Are the murmurs of love's farewell.
|