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TO MARGARET M * * * * *
Maggie! from thy brow so bright, And those dancing eyes of thine, Glows a young heart's happy light, Glancing beams of Hope divine. In young fancy's charms arrayed, Every object now is gay: Maggie, all those charms must fadeEarthly charms must fade away. Turn thine eyes where pleasures shine, Everlasting through the gloom : Everlasting joys be thine, Rising, deathless, from the tomb! 1843.
David was born a genuine poet;
Beneath a bower, where poplar branches long,
Embracing, wove seclusion round the abode
Of Hermit sage, what time the full moon rode, 'Mid spectre clouds her star-paved streets along, Rose on the listening ear a plaintive song,
Sweet as the harmony of an angel's lyre,
choir Of beauty, hid the encircling shades among. Of mysteries deep I ween that sage had dreamed,
Who now, upstarting, clasps his hands, to hear
The mystic notes of nature's anthem clear, Which holiest bards have heard and heavenly
deemed. 'Tis ever thus, as to that sage it seemed, 'Tis beauty makes the dreams of wisdom dear!
Kind nature hath a sympathising tone
For every mood of human joy or pain.
A hundred winters, still maintains his place;
The hoary cliff uprears his storm-scarred face,
The glorious sun runs his immortal race.
Lift up thine eye to heaven's eternal scope !
The world is full of joy. The sweet rose flings
Her fragrance out to invite the zephyr's kiss;
The morning lark, in wantonness of bliss,
The storm peals out; down comes the dancing
The mountain stream leaps shouting to the plain, And with high glee the echoing valley rings ; The wild wind whistles in his desert caves;
The thick clouds ride triumphant down the sky; The old green wood his lusty branches waves ;
Huge ocean shakes his foamy crest on high; Earth springs exulting in her fadeless prime, And the glad sun rolls on his course sublime !
I looked on Beauty, when the sudden light
Of intellect, and generous feeling high,
Blazed on the cheek and lightened in the eye,
Laughed from beneath her silken lashes fair,
And mirth, awaking from his rosy lair,
When the full heaven of stars is shining there.
But not the flash of genius may compare, Nor the gay summer of the radiant cheek,
With the soft smile of twilight sweetness rare On Beauty's brow, which thoughts of kindness
wear, When the eye looks more than the tongue may