Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

SPRAGUE.

THE WINGED WORSHIPPERS.

ADDRESSED TO TWO SWALLOWS THAT FLEW INTO THE CHAUNCEY PLACE CHURCH DURING DIVINE SERVICE.

GAY, guiltless pair,

What seek ye from the fields of heaven?

Ye have no need of prayer,

Ye have no sins to be forgiven.

Why perch ye here,

Where mortals to their Maker bend?

Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye never could offend?

Ye never knew

The crimes for which we come to weep.
Penance is not for you,
Blessed wanderers of the upper deep.

To you 'tis given

To wake sweet Nature's untaught lays;
Beneath the arch of heaven

To chirp away a life of praise.

Then spread each wing,

Far, far above, o'er the lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing

In yon blue dome not reared with hands.

Or, if ye stay,

To note the consecrated hour,

Teach me the airy way,

And let me try your envied power.

Above the crowd,

On upward wings could I but fly,
I'd bathe in yon bright cloud,
And seek the stars that gem the sky.

"Twere Heaven indeed

Through fields of trackless light to soar,
On Nature's charms to feed,
And Nature's own great God adore.

THE BROTHERS.

WE are but two-the others sleep
Through Death's untroubled night;
We are but two -O, let us keep
The link that binds us bright!

Heart leaps to heart-the sacred flood
That warms us is the same;

That good old man-his honest blood
Alike we fondly claim.

We in one mother's arms were locked-
Long be her love repaid;

In the same cradle we were rocked,
Round the same hearth we played.

Our boyish sports were all the same,
Each little joy and woe;-
Let manhood keep alive the flame,

Lit up so long ago.

We are but two-be that the band
To hold us till we die;

Shoulder to shoulder let us stand,

Till side by side we lie.

[graphic][merged small][merged small]

THERE was music on the midnight:

From a royal fane it roll'd;

And a mighty bell, each pause between,
Sternly and slowly toll'd.

Strange was their mingling in the sky,
It hush'd the listener's breath;
For the music spoke of triumph high,
The lonely bell, of death!

There was hurrying through the midnight,

A sound of many feet;

But they fell with a muffled fearfulness
Along the shadowy street:

And softer, fainter grew their tread,

As it near'd the minster gate, Whence a broad and solemn light was shed From a scene of royal state.

Full glow'd the strong red radiance
In the centre of the nave,
Where the folds of a purple canopy
Swept down in many a wave;
Loading the marble pavement old
With a weight of gorgeous gloom;

For something lay 'midst their fretted gold,
Like a shadow of the tomb.

And within that rich pavilion,
High on a glittering throne,
A woman's form sat silently,
'Midst the glare of light alone.
Her jewell'd robes fell strangely still-
The drapery on her breast

Seem'd with no pulse beneath to thrill,

So stonelike was its rest!

But a peal of lordly music
Shook e'en the dust below,

When the burning gold of the diadem
Was set on her pallid brow!
Then died away that haughty sound,

And from the encircling band

Stepp'd prince and chief, 'midst the hush profound, With homage to her hand.

Why pass'd a faint, cold shuddering

Over each martial frame,

As one by one, to touch that hand,
Noble and leader came?

Was not the settled aspect fair?
Did not a queenly grace,
Under the parted ebon hair,
Sit on the pale, still face?

Death! death! canst thou be lovely

Unto the eye of life?

Is not each pulse of the quick high breast
With thy cold mien at strife?—

It was a strange and fearful sight,

The crown upon that head,

The glorious robes, and the blaze of light,
All gather'd round the Dead!

And beside her stood in silence
One with a brow as pale,

And white lips rigidly compress'd,

Lest the strong heart should fail:
King Pedro, with a jealous eye,
Watching the homage done
By the land's flower and chivalry
To her, his martyr'd one.

But on the face he looked not,
Which once his star had been;

« AnteriorContinuar »