網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

THE WIDOW.

SHE said she was alone within the world:

How could she but be sad!

She whisper'd something of a lad,

With eyes of blue, and light hair sweetly curl'd;
But the grave had the child!

And yet

his voice she heard,

When at the lattice, calm and mild,

The mother in the twilight saw the vine-leaves stirr'd. "Mother," it seem'd to say,

"I love thee;

When thou dost by the side of thy lone pillow pray, My spirit writes the words above thee;

Mother, I watch o'er thee—I love thee."

Where was the husband of that widow'd thing,
That seraph's earthly sire?—

A soldier dares a soldier's fire;

The murderous ball brought death upon its wing,
Beneath a foreign sky,—

He fell in sunny Spain;

The wife, in silence, saw him die,

But the fond boy's blue eyes gave drops like summer

rain.

"Mother," the poor lad cried,

"He's dying!

We are close by thee, father-at thy bleeding side

Dost thou not hear thy Arthur crying?—

Mother, his lips are closed-he's dying!"

It was a stormy time when the man fell;
And the youth shrunk and pined;

Consumption's worm his pulse entwined—

[ocr errors]

Prepare his shroud," rung out the convent bell. Yet, through his pain he smiled,

To soothe a parent's grief :

Sad soul! she could not be beguiled:

She saw the bud would leave the guardian leaf! "Mother," he faintly said,

"Come near me

Kiss me and let me in my father's grave be laid—
I've pray'd that I might still be near thee;
Mother, I'll come again and cheer thee!"

HINDOO HYMN.

TO THE SPIRIT OF GOD, CALLED NARAVENA, i. e. "MOVING ON THE WATER."-Gen. i. 2.

SPIRIT of spirits! who, through every part
Of space expanded, and of endless time,
Beyond the stretch of laboring thought sublime,
Badst uproar into beauteous order start;
Before Heaven was, Thou art;

Ere spheres beneath us roll'd, or spheres above,

Ere earth in firmamental ether hung,

Thou sat'st alone; till through thy mystic love Things unexisting to existence sprung,

And grateful descant sung :

What first impell'd thee to exert thy might?
Goodness unlimited. What glorious light

Thy power directed?

Wisdom without bound.

What proved it first?

O! guide my fancy right.

Oh, raise from cumbrous ground

My soul, in rapture drown'd;

That fearless it may soar on wings of fire,

For thou who only know'st, thou only canst inspire.

Omniscient Spirit! whose all-ruling power

Bids from each sense bright emanations beam; Glows in the rainbow; sparkles in the stream; Smiles in the bud; and glistens in the flower, That crowns each vernal bower;

Sighs in the gale; and warbles in the throat

Of every bird that hails the bloomy spring,
Or tells his love in many a liquid note,

Whilst envious artists touch the rival string,
Till rocks and forests ring;

Breathes in rich fragrance from the sandal grove,
Or where the precious musk-deer playful rove;

In dulcet juice from clustering fruit distils,
And burns salubrious in the tasteful clove;
Soft banks and verd'rous hills

Thy present influence fills;

In air, in floods, in caverns, woods and plains,
Thy will enlivens all; thy sovereign spirit reigns.

Blue crystal vault and elemental fires

That in ethereal fluid blaze and breathe;

Thou tossing main, whose snaky branches wreathe This pensile globe with intertwisted gyres;

Mountains, whose radiant spires

Presumptuous rear their summits to the skies,

And blend their emerald hues with sapphire light ;

Smooth meads, and lawns, that glow with varying dyes,

Of dew-bespangled leaves and blossoms bright,
Hence!-vanish from my sight!

Delusive pictures, unsubstantial shows!
My soul, absorbed, one only Being knows,
Of all perceptions one abundant source,
Whence every object every moment flows.
Suns hence derive their force,

Hence planets learn their course :—
But suns and fading worlds I view no more;
God only I perceive-God only I adore.

THE TWINS.

'Twas summer, and a Sabbath eve,
And balmy was the air;

I saw a sight that made me grieve,

And yet the sight was fair:

Within a little coffin lay

Two lifeless babes as sweet as May.

Like waxen dolls which children dress,
The little bodies were;

A look of placid happiness
Did on each face appear:

And in the coffin short and wide,
They lay together, side by side.

A rose-bud nearly closed I found
Each little hand within;

And many a pink was strow'd around
With sprigs of jessamine :

And yet the flowers that round them lay
Were not to me more fair than they.

Their mother, as a lily pale,

Sat by them on the bed;

And bending o'er them told her tale;
And many a tear she shed:

Yet oft she cried amidst her pain,
"My babes and I shall meet again."

THE CHRISTIAN MOURNER'S PROSPECT OF DEATH.

THE hour, the hour, the parting hour,
That takes from this dark world its power,
And lays at once the thorn and flower
On the same withering bier, my soul!
The hour that ends all earthly woes,
And gives the wearied soul repose,—
How soft, how sweet, that last, long close
Of mortal hope and fear, my soul !

How sweet, while on this broken lyre
The melodies of time expire,

To feel it strung with chords of fire,

To praise the immortal One, my soul!
And while our farewell tears we pour
To those we leave on this cold shore,
To feel that we shall weep no more,
Nor dwell alone in heaven, my soul!

« 上一頁繼續 »