« AnteriorContinuar »
Amid the “hears” of the applauding House, Replied the weak voice of our hungry Mouse : “ Your reasoning may for Rats indeed suffice; “ But 0, great Sir! you quite forget the Mice !"
Our hour is past—and I must bear
The fate thou canst not soothe-alone:
The green moss from the stone;---
But tell me not in crowds to prove
How vain is all that Pride would claim ;
Is never found in Fame;
Yet fain my heart would seek' show
It was not all unworthy thine,
And Fame were sweet if thou could’st know
Thy memory made it mine.
And yet it soothes—since thou didst form
Thy nest upon so rude a tree,
Can only fall on me!
Away the lyre !--it hath no strain
In which a love like ours should speak; But we may never meet again,
For hearts-like ties—will break ;And I would fain that thou should'st see That mine-till broken-is with thee!
TO INA IN ABSENCE.
(FOUR YEARS AFTER THE LAST.)
Thou only hast been more to me
Than aught my prophet dreams foretold; The wildest thoughts when turned to thee,
My memory mocks as cold.
Of burning hopes, and wasting sighs ;
The tears are in my eyes. 'Tis strangely sweet on thee to muse;
A sweet, yet scarce a glad, emotion ;
Like Love's recalled devotion.
Their tides above thine image swell; And thou protect'st them from the storm,
Sweet Spirit of the Well !
My heart the record of my vow;
Didst thou behold it now!
Thou tellst me thou wilt scarcely deem
Thy thought can reach me from afar;
Go-doubt thyself, my star!
Whose warmth, whose brightness can reprove,
It is the heart I love !
OR THE SOUL AND ITS FUTURE.
Thin, shadowy, scarce divided from the light,
I saw a Phantom at the birth of morn : Its robe was sable, but a fleecy white
Flowed silvery o'er the garb of gloom: a horn It held within its hand;—no human breath Stirred its wan lips ;-death-like, it seemed not death!
My heart lay numb within me—and the glow Of the glad life waxed faint, and ice-like crept ;
The pulses of my being seemed to grow One awe !-voice fled the body as it slept,
But from its startled depths, the' o'erlaboured Soul Spake, king-like, out—" What art Thou that would'st seem
“ To have o'er Immortality control ?" And the shape answered—not by sound—“ A DREAM!
“ A Dream—but not a Dream ! the Shade of Things
“ To come; a Spirit from the thrones of Fate, “ I ruled the hearts of Earth's primæval Kings;
“ I gave their life its impulse and its date; “ Grey Wisdom paled before me; and the Stars
“Were made my weird Interpreters—my hand “ Aroused the whirlwind of the destined wars,
“ And bowed the Nations to my dim command ! “ A Dream, but not a Dream-a type, a sign
“Of the vast Future do I come to thee ! “ And where I come, I AM THE FUTURE! Thine,
6 Behold, and tremble to behold, in ME. “ What, thou would'st rise ?—the lesser flights of Fame
“ Content thee not—thy heart hath grown a fire, “ And the arch priest Ambition feeds the flame
“ With the prophetic laurel'* of desire. “ And in the Air; and on the voiceless Earth,
“ Thou seek’st an omen, and believ'st a hope; 6 And thy chained spirit from the bonds of Birth
“ Looks to the mighty Heaven—and pines for scope ! “ Hark, hark- I tell thee that the unsheathed blade
“ Shall break—if strife redeem it from its rust; “ Hark, hark !—I tell thee that the wreath is laid
“Upon the bier !—now grasp it—and be dust!" “ Methought my soul did answer • Come the strife“The bier !-Life's ends have nobler things than life!
* MaVTIKOV PUTOV.