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When high romance o'er every wood and stream
Dark lustre shed, my infant mind to fire, . Spell-struck, and fill'd with many a wondering
dream, First in the groves I woke the pensive lyre. All there was mystery then, the gust that woke
The midnight echo was a spirit's dirge, And unseen fairies would the moon invoke
To their light morrice by the restless surge. Now to my sober'd thought with life's false smiles,
Too much' . . .
And dark forebodings now my bosom fill.
Once more, and yet once more,
I give unto my harp a dark woven lay; I heard the waters roar,
I heard the flood of ages pass away.
In thine eternal cell,
I saw thee rise,– I saw the scroll complete;
The universe gave way.
FRAGMENT OF AN ECCENTRIC DRAMA.
WRITTEN AT A VERY EARLY AGE.
THE DANCE OF THE CONSUMPTIVES.
“Swinging slow with sullen roar," Dance, dance away the jocund roundelay! . Ding-dong, ding-dong calls us away.
Round the oak, and round the elm,
Merrily foot it o'er the ground !
Merry, merry go the bells,
The sentry ghost,
It keeps its post,
Hark! hark! the death-watch ticks!
Our dance is done,
Our race is run,
Merry, merry go the bells, Swinging o'er the weltering wave !
And we must seek
Our deathbeds bleak, Where the green sod grows upon the grave.
They vanish— The Goddess of Consumption descends, ha
bited in a sky-blue robe, attended by mournful music.
Come, Melancholy, sister mine!
Cold the dews, and chill the night!
And underneath her sickly ray
We'll ride at ease
On the tainted breeze,
The Goddess of Melancholy advances out of a deep glen
in the rear, habited in black, and covered with a thick veil. She speaks.
Sister, from my dark abode,
Where the troops of spectres play.
Come, let us speed away,
I will smooth the way for thee,
O’er many a grave,
I will furnish food for thee,
O'er many a grave,
She is mine,
And she is thine,
The worm it will riot
On heavenly diet,
[They vanish. While Consumption speaks, Angelina enters.