But now those beams have sunk, and in their stead,
A feeble, wan, and melancholy ray,
Like twilight fading into night away,
Steals o'er thy pensive beauty. Yet, dear Maid,
Far lovelier art thou now, than in thy day
Of cloudless light, for holy woe hath given
To Earth's decaying charms a radiance as of Heaven. August, 1819.
I DREAM'D there was a bright and tranquil Star
Shining above the quiet Vale I love
To which, at times, my dreaming soul would rove,
And worship its pale radiance from afar
With no unholy homage: high above
The fret, and tumult, and discordant jar
Of the base world it led me, and the war
Of grosser passions which it dream'd not of.
I knew the idle fancy could not last;
Yet, when I turn to the blank, dreary sky,
Whence that pale star shone forth so tenderly,
I weep to think its light could fade so fast;-
Away!-away!-my boyish dream is past,-
I am alone with cold reality.
The shelter, from thy sire, of an immortal name."—SHELLEY.
My weaker glance shrinks from that glorious sun
Which cheers thine eagle-pinion. Gentle Friend,
In vain thou bid'st me by thy side ascend
The path my lowly destiny must shun.
For I am bound by heavy chains of Earth,
And my soul grovels in its shroud of clay;
Thou art a Poet even from thy birth,
And bright-eyed Glory beckons thee.-Away!
Hereafter, when thy wing hath ceas'd to roam
Awhile, amid the fields of Phantasy,
Thou shalt descend to my lone, quiet home,
And deign to praise my simple melody;
My song of calm affections, love and mirth,
Piped to kind happy hearts around some Christmas hearth.
THOU hast a gentle nature; yet I know
That thy life's spring hath been unfortunate;
That thou hast firmly borne the frown of Fate,
And met Affliction with unalter'd brow.
Oh! not to Lady Fortune's captious hate Are fine and delicate spirits first to bow;
Wealth and young Hope, like thine, made desolate, Have broken many a sterner heart; but thou
Hast quiet thoughts, and exquisite affections,
And dreams that waft thee far from storms of Earth, Sweet tears, lone musings, cherish'd recollections;
And Poesy smil'd on thee at thy birth; And o'er thy path one lov'd and tranquil Star Still flings its cheering radiance from afar.
(With the MS. from which the following lines are extracted.)
No freak I send of venturous Phantasy,
But the dull coinage of a College brain, Wrought with fatigue, and heaviness, and pain, And hours of cold and sober industry;
A thing of rhyme, and syntax, writ to gain Haply a week's poor notoriety.
Young Poet, 'tis a dearer pride to me
To know that this weak, wayward Muse of mine
Hath touch'd a few such gentle hearts as thine,
With her faint, melancholy minstrelsy.
Thou hast the pinions of poetic might;
Mine is a poor and lowly destiny,
To gaze, far off, upon thine eagle-flight, And hail thy proud ascent to Immortality.
FROM A TERRIBLE LONG MS. POEM.
THOU brightest idol of th' enthusiast's heart,
Enchanting Eve, how beautiful thou art!
Spirit of soothing sounds and hues divine,
What gentle power! what tearful joy is thine!
How, at thy bidding, from their fountains roll
The fresh untroubled waters of the soul!
How soars entranced thought to realms above,
On rushing pinions of immortal love!
Or dwells, in rapture too serene to last,
On the dim, dream-like regions of the past!
For all thy gentle hues, and sounds that seem
The airy music of some wandering dream;
Yet more for thy brief gleams of bliss gone by,
Thy breeze-like whispers of futurity;
Thy calm and solemn musings,—do we raise
To thee, Enchantress, thankful hymns of praise.
"Tis thine to veil, one hour, from mortal eye,
The dreary present's dull reality;
Wafting th' entranced soul through many a scene
Of bliss to be, and rapture which hath been.
Thine are a thousand "thoughts too deep for tears,”
Gladdening remembrance of our early years;
Thoughts of the hours which with our heart-strings wove
The fairy fetters of confiding love;
Thoughts of the impulse warm, the grasp close-strain'd,
The look that utter'd all the heart contain'd;
The voice that cheer'd, the gentle eyes that smil'd
On the gay, sinless, and unthinking child;
And yet far holier musings oft are thine,
Sublimer moods, and raptures more divine,
When, in thy silence, at th' Eternal throne,
Man's spirit communes with his God alone;
And bends a fearful, yet unshrinking eye,
On the seal'd portal of Eternity.
Beautiful hour! when first from cloudless skies
Thou smil'dst on Adam in his Paradise,
What throbs of awe, what strange emotion ran
Throughout the being of the infant man,
While glow'd his spirit from its heavenly birth,
Clear and unclouded by the mists of earth!
With silent wonder, through the burning sky,
He saw the sun descend in majesty,
Saw the faint twilight o'er his Eden steal,
And felt such awe as sinless spirits feel,
As the last sunbeam vanish'd from his sight,
And Earth was darken'd in the shade of night.
He mark'd the quiet of all living things,
The wild birds motionless with folded wings,
The weary brutes asleep in wood and brake,
Himself at last alone on Earth awake.
He saw the pale stars one by one appear,
The Moon glide upward on her calm career,
And felt in the repose of earth and sky
The presence of the One Divinity.
Then, with what meek devotion, through the air,
Rose the pure incense of his silent pray'r,
Till, o'er his soul, entranc'd in rapture deep,
First stole the awful heaviness of sleep.
Alas! how changed that soul! how fallen its pride,
When, with his gentle partner at his side,
Again he watch'd the sunset fade away,
The first, sad sunset of a toilsome day!
What gloomy visions then their fancy cross'd,
What sad repinings for their Eden lost!
What dark forebodings of impending woes,
Of care, and pain, and sin, and death arose !
Yet, as beneath those bright and tranquil skies,
Each caught the lustre of the other's eyes,
And felt that last, best blessing from above,
The deep, the mighty tenderness of love,
Calm hopes arose, and aspirations high,
And consciousness of Immortality,
Till, in the silence of their bliss, they smiled,
To earth and all its sorrows reconciled.
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