The beings that surrounded him were gone, Through that which had been death to many men, And the quick spirit of the universe He held his dialogues; and they did teach My dream was past; it had no further change. It was of a strange order, that the doom Of these two creatures should be thus traced out Almost like a reality—the one To end in madness-both in misery. THE SHIPWRECK. (From "DON JUAN.") WAS twilight, and the sunless day went down TWA Over the waste of waters; like a veil Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is masked but to assail. Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown, And grimly darkled o'er the faces pale, And the dim desolate deep: twelve days had Fear Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell— Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave— Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave; And the sea yawned around her like a hell, And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die. And first one universal shriek there rushed, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry There were two fathers in this ghastly crew, And with them their two sons, of whom the one Was more robust and hardy to the view; But he died early; and when he was gone, His nearest messmate told his sire, who threw One glance on him, and said, "Heaven's will be done! I can do nothing;" and he saw him thrown Into the deep without a tear or groan. The other father had a weaklier child, But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed: And when the wished-for shower at length was come, And the boy's eyes, which the dull film half glazed, Brightened, and for a moment seemed to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child's mouth; but in vain! The boy expired-the father held the clay, And looked upon it long; and when at last Death left no doubt, and the dead burthen lay Stiff on his heart, and pulse and hope were past, He watched it wistfully, until away 'Twas borne by the rude wave wherein 'twas cast; Then he himself sunk down all dumb and shivering, And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering. TH "THERE'S NOT A JOY," ETC. HERE'S not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decav; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of hap piness Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess : The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again. Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth attract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath, O could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been, scene, As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me! HE sun is up, and 'tis a morn of May TH Round old Ravenna's clear-shown towers and bay, A morn, the loveliest which the year has seen, Of bubbling springs about the grassy soil: And all the scene, in short-sky, earth, and sea— Breathes like a bright-eyed face, that laughs out openly. - 'Tis Nature, full of spirits, waked and springing :- |