I never saw the glitt'ring forms of Beauty's outward cast,
You tell me fill the sky, the earth, the sea's unfathom'd vast,
Yet, in my vision-peopled mind, transcendent to behold,
Fantastic shapes of Beauty rise in Ideal sculptur'd mould!
There is a world within myself Imagination fills,
Whose fascinating form my soul with aspiration thrills;
And Poetry and Music are the angel spirits there,
Which wed me to a love for life, and keep me from despair.
Oh, mother! think not of my Fate as tho' 't were nought but
For pleasure reigns o'er all the world, and each one has a share:
The rain, the breeze, the voice of birds, waft music to my heart,
To linger there, that other themes, less welcome, may depart.
Yes, mother! there is much to love conveyed unto my mind,
To wean me from the mocking thought, which tells me that
"I'm blind."
Alas! for man, whom sotting pleasures blind,
Beguiling life of Nature's purer tone;
The heavenly music brooding o'er the mind,
Which nestles love upon its ideal zone,
And bids the soul, which mourns in sadness lone,
To wander 'mid the universal plan,
And cull the flowers of beauty, which alone
With glist'ning pride, would charm the wand'ring scan, And with undying love pinion the soul of man!
I would not leap the barrier between
The haunts of Vice and Virtue's holy flame, To mix in revelry and drunken scene,
Or share the gambler's ever-chousing game-
Vicious delights! man's nobler efforts maim!
I would not curse with foul demoniac oath,
With aspirations blighted-nought to tame
The judgment-from its dull perpetual sloth,
That life might germinate in Nature's uncramp'd growth!
But pleasures holier should woo my heart,
And twine round memory, enhancing joy,
Which on the mind's dim twilight dreams upstart,
Spectres of gladness! loom'd in nymph-like coy,
Which time may cozen, but can ne'er destroy.
In summer hours, when clouds that robe the West-
The crimson sun's last ling'ring rays decoy,
When day fast sinks in undisturbed rest,
There's pleasure unsurpass'd sent to my throbbing breast!
Oh, yes! 'tis sweet to feel its virgin kiss,
Wafted from spheres remote, and objects near,
Fraught with raptures of Arcadian bliss,
And sweet minstrel sounds harmoniously dear,
Thrilling Nature's ever varying parterre-
Where perfumes on the breeze do scent the air,
Exhal'd from flowers oppress'd with dew-drops clear,
That gem the distant glens and woodlands fair-
There's pleasure! rapturous pleasure, everywhere!
I love to roam 'mid solitude, and gaze
Enraptur'd o'er Nature's enamel sheet,
Winding thro' pathless wilds' untrodden ways,
Bedight with many-colour'd blossoms sweet!
And to my soul, thro' countless fibres, beat
The music chords of love-from Beauty's glade,
Where glitt'ring hills the wand'ring eye do greet,
And form one vast immeasurable arcade-
Abode of Deity! of bliss the Palisade!
Oh, man! why waste the evanescent hours,
Which, as they glide, do mould futurity
In crime's polluting and besotting bowers,
Where frenzied Passion wields its sceptre free,
And brands its victims-Sons of Misery!
Oppress'd with crime, and poverty, and woe,
Instead of blessings pure, that ought to be---
Blossoms, that from virtuous actions grow,
We must transmit ere happiness can dwell below.
Come forth and greet the ever-lovely smile,
Beaming benign in Nature's vestal eye,
Nor longer 'neath degrading haunts defile
Thy heart; for Nature's boundless halls supply,
Scenes that shall lift thy latent soul on high,
To gather inspiration 'neath its wings,
From those ethereal orbs within the sky,
Whose mysterious hiding dimly brings
The soul a faith in unseen and immortal things.
Doth Freedom ne'er sweet winning glances cast,
To pave thy breast with an unquench'd desire,
The future may shine brighter than the past,
And men, throughout the universe aspire
To Brotherhood-and Tyranny expire-
Whose iron Will enslaves the human kind,
And sends abroad the shafts of human ire-
But man shall yet that tyrant Will unbind,
And Freedom's august smile shall radiate his mind!
But years must slumber in oblivion's arms,
Ere Freedom's heav'nly smiles supreme can reign, And earth be filled with her transcendent charmsThe slave no longer bear inhuman pain,
Barter'd for gold-the slave's life-galling chain-Great God! shall tyrant-tortures never end?
And men ne'er cease their demon acts for gain? Oh, yes; a People's knowledge shall descend,
And their hard selfish hearts in human love shall bend!
Gaze o'er the brilliant earth, teeming with pride-
The pride of Nature's mild delightful fields,
Whether by day, when murm'ring zephyrs glide,
And the rich sun his golden plumage wields;
Or ebon night, in moon-lit splendour, shields
The vast domains unmeasur'd by the sight,
Whose mystic work of beauty ever yields
The soul of man enchanting raptures bright,
And bids the heart of Nature leap in unfeign'd delight!
Behold the prayers that eloquently rise
In mellifluous raptures everywhere!
The soaring minstrels of the summer skies,
Whose mellow echoes thrill the vernal air,
Infuse the utterance of solemn prayer,
And all the myriad-winged bards of space,
That sporting, sail the filmy atmosphere,
Fan with Poesy divine all Nature's face,
And lock her sweet delights in musical embrace!
Behold how wond'rously all things are made!
If we survey the billowy boundless main,
Brood upon the foliage-shelter'd glade,
Or send our thoughts athwart the fertile plain,
Infinity transcends our finite brain;
Entangled in a maze which hath no bound,
Whose mysteries the mind can ne'er explain,
We wander on and list the echoing sound
Of Freedom's voice-whose accents fall for ever round!
There's mystery in the soft blade of grass
That lifts its head towards the heav'nly blue;
The herbs and flowers wonderously surpass
The limit of the mind's expanding view!
There's myst'ry in the cool-freshening dew-
Like isicles, depended, in the morn,
From the glist'ning flowers of various hue-
The trees and shrubs, and golden ears of corn,
That bedizen the world's luxuriant-crested lawn!
There's mystery pervades the sunlit day,
And those encircling folds of ether white,
That o'er earth in aërial gladness stray
With sweet transparant loveliness bedight!
There's mystery engirdling the silent night—
The still calm night-when the star-spangled cloud
Scatters the moon's pellucid streaks of light!
There's mystery in the human heart endow'd,
When balmy sleep prepares its vision sceptr'd shroud!
There's mystery in the lone gliding stream,
The mellow lawns and echo-thrilling dells, Mountains, rocks, and Arcadian valleys teem, With mysterious unentangling spells;
In every grain of sparkling sand it dwells, Glist'ning on this stupendous, fadeless ball!
When thought, in dreamy wonderment upwells, To glide athwart the mind's enchanted pallMysterious forms its subtile energies enthrall!
Both Beauty, Love, and Music's thrilling voice,
Aye! all that make the halls of Nature blest,
And in luxurious ecstacy rejoice,
The choice of Poesy's, when roaming earth in quest
Of themes, in divinest radiance drest-
Beauty, Love, and Music permeate the sod!
All things in magic loveliness attest,
Where'er the eye hath scanned and foot hath trod, The mysterious handiwork that speaks of God!
Oh! there's nought can give the unbounded joy,
And purify the soul's uncleanly thought;
Nought with such holy fruitfulness employ
Man's leisure hours, by Nature's teachings taught, As her lov'd themes with God-like blessings fraught 'Tis there Religion's pure and sacred lore,
And all the raptures of the soul are sought
There man, unwarp'd by prejudice, may store
Her treasur'd smiles, and all her endless works explore.
'Tis not alone the narrow-minded creed,
Or ostentatious oft-repeated rites,
Perform'd by surplic'd priests who weekly plead,
Salvation to the world's weak erring wights,
Thro' faith in that which Reason's eye benights,
Religion's purest happiness is felt!
On mountain, meed, and valley, she delights,
And weaves from Nature her inspiring belt,
Where, braced within its bounds, man's frozen spirits melt!
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