Sweet strains wildly float on the breezes that kiss
The calm-flowing lake round that region of bliss,
Where, wreathing their garlands of amaranth, fair choi:
Glad measures still weave to the sound that inspires
The dance and the revel, mid forests that cover
On high with their shade the green Isle of the Lover.
But fierce as the snake, with his eyeballs of fire,
When his scales are all brilliant and glowing with ire,
Are the warriors to all, save the maids of their isle,
Whose law is their will, and whose life is their smile;
From beauty there valour and strength are not rovers,
And peace reigns supreme in the green Isle of Lovers.
And he who has sought to set foot on its shore,
In mazes perplexed, has beheld it no more;
It fleets on the vision, deluding the view-
Its banks still retire as the hunters pursue:
Oh! who in this vain world of woe shall discover
The home undisturbed, the green Isle of the Lover?
HYMN OF NATURE.
GOD of the earth's extended plains!
The dark, green fields contented lie;
The mountains rise like holy towers,
Where man might commune with the sky;
The tall cliff challenges the storm
That lowers upon the vale below,
Where shaded fountains send their streams,
With joyous music in their flow.
GOD of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands, Till the fierce trumpet of the storm
Hath summoned up their thundering bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hurry, trembling, o'er the seas,
Till, calmed by Thee, the sinking Gale
Serenely breathes, "Depart in peace."
GOD of the forest's solemn shade!
The grandeur of the lonely tree,
That wrestles singly with the gale,
Lifts up admiring eyes to Thee;
But more majestic far they stand,
When, side by side, their ranks they form To wave on high their plumes of green, And fight their battles with the storm.
GOD of the light and viewless air!
Where summer breezes sweetly flow, Or, gathering in their angry might,
The fierce and wintry tempests blow;
All-from the Evening's plaintive sigh,
That hardly lifts the drooping flower,
To the wild Whirlwind's midnight cry,
Breathe forth the language of thy power.
GOD of the fair and open sky!
How gloriously above us springs The tented dome, of heavenly blue,
Suspended on the rainbow's rings!
Each brilliant star, that sparkles through,
Each gilded cloud, that wanders free
In evening's purple radiance, gives
The beauty of its praise to Thee.
GOD of the rolling orbs above!
Thy name is written clearly bright
In the warm day's unvarying blaze,
Or evening's golden shower of light.
every fire that fronts the sun,
And every spark that walks alone
Around the utmost verge of heaven,
Were kindled at thy burning throne.
GOD of the world! the hour must come,
And Nature's self to dust return;
Her crumbling altars must decay,
Her incense-fires shall cease to burn;
But still her grand and lovely scenes
Have made man's warmest praises flow;
For hearts grow holier as they trace
The beauty of the world below.
Sumner Lincoln Fairfield.
AN EVENING SONG OF PIEDMON1.
VE MARIA! 'tis the midnight hour,
The starlight wedding of the earth and heaven, When music breathes its perfume from the flower, And high revealings to the heart are given;
Soft o'er the meadows steals the dewy air
Like dreams of bliss; the deep-blue ether glows,
And the stream murmurs round its islets fair
The tender night-song of a charmed repose.
Ave MARIA! 'tis the hour of love,
The kiss of rapture, and the linked embrace,
The hallowed converse in the dim, still grove,
The elysium of a heart-revealing face,
When all is beautiful-for we are blest;
When all is lovely-for we are beloved;
When all is silent-for our passions rest;
When all is faithful-for our hopes are proved.
Ave MARIA! 'tis the hour of prayer,
Of hushed communion with ourselves and Heaven, When our waked hearts their inmost thoughts declare, High, pure, far-searching, like the light of even; When hope becomes fruition, and we feel
The holy earnest of eternal peace,
That bids our pride before the Omniscient kneel,
That bids our wild and warring passions cease.
Ave MARIA! Soft the vesper hymn
Floats through the cloisters of yon holy pile,
And, mid the stillness of the night-watch dim,
Attendant spirits seem to hear and smile!
Hark! hath it ceased? The vestal seeks her cell,
And reads her heart-a melancholy tale!
of happier years, whose echoes swell O'er her lost love, like pale Bereavement's wail.
Ave MARIA! let our prayers ascend
From them whose holy offices afford
No joy in heaven-on earth without a friend-
That true, though faded image of the LORD!
For them in vain the face of Nature glows,
For them in vain the sun in glory burns;
The hollow breast consumes in fiery woes,
And meets despair and death where'er it turns.
Ave MARIA! in the deep pine-wood,
On the clear stream, and o'er the azure sky,
Bland Midnight smiles, and starry Solitude.
Breathes hope in every breeze that wanders by.
Ave MARIA! may our last hour come
As bright, as pure, as gentle, Heaven! as this!
Jet Faith attend us smiling to the tomb,
And Life and Death are both the heirs of bliss!
ON SEEING AN EAGLE PASS NEAR ME IN AUTUMN TWILIGHT.
AIL on, thou lone, imperial bird,
Of quenchless eye and tireless wing;
How is thy distant coming heard,
As the night's breezes round thee ring!
Thy course was gainst the burning sun
In his extremest glory. How!
Is thy unequalled daring done,
Thou stoop'st to earth so lowly now?
Or hast thou left thy rocking dome,
Thy roaring crag, thy lightning pine,
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