THE ROYAL GUEST. What is it we have won ? This, this at least if this alone: ROBERT BULWER LYTTON. THE ROYAL GUEST. THEY tell me I am shrewd with other men ; If other guests should come, I'd deck my hair, For them I while the hours with tale or song, THINK ON ME. O friend beloved! I sit apart and dumb, My lip will falter, but my prisoned heart Thou art to me most like a royal guest, Whose travels bring him to some lowly roof And, blushing, own it is not good enough. Bethink thee then, whene'er thou com'st to me From high emprise and noble toil to rest, My thoughts are weak and trivial, matched with thine; But the poor mansion offers thee its best. JULIA WARD HOWE. THINK ON ME. Go where the water glideth gently ever, And think on me. Wander in forests, where the small flower layeth List to the dim brook, pining as it playeth, And think on me. THE LAST POET. And when the sky is silver-pale at even, And think on me. And when the moon riseth as she were dreaming, And treadeth with white feet the lulled sea, Go, silent as a star, beneath her beaming, And think on me. JOHN HAMILTON. THE LAST POET. "WHEN will your bards be weary "Is it not long since empty, As long as the sun's chariot Yet keeps its azure track, THE LAST POET. As long as skies shall nourish As long as after tempests Shall spring one showery bow, One breast with peaceful promise And reconcilement glow; As long as night the concave Long as a moonbeam glimmers, As long as roses blossom, As long as cypress shadows The graves more mournful make, Or one cheek's wet with weeping, Or one poor heart can break: THE LAST POET. So long on earth shall wander And with her, one exulting Her votarist to be. And singing on, triumphing, The old earth-mansion through, Ere it is sung and ended, The old, eternal song?" ANTON ALEXANDER VON AUERSPERG. (German.) Translation of REV. NATHANIEL LANGDON FROTHINGHAM. THE END. |