1811. Dear the boon to fancy given, Retracted while it's granted: Sweet the rose which lives in heaven (Although on earth 'tis planted); While by earth's slaves the leaves are riven Age cannot love destroy : But perfidy can blast the flower, Age cannot love destroy: But perfidy can rend the shrine In which its vermeil splendours shine. TO MARY, WHO DIED IN THIS OPINION. MAIDEN, quench the glare of sorrow Firmness dare to borrow From the wreck of destiny; For the ray morn's bloom revealing As that which mocks concealing, And sheds its loveliest light on you. Yet is the tie departed In a world so cold as this! Yet, though, fainting fair one, Sorrow's self thy cup has given, Dream thou'lt meet thy dear one, Never more to part, in heaven. Existence would I barter Nor would I change for pleasure MOTHER AND SON. I. SHE was an aged woman; and the years Which she had numbered on her toilsome way Which faintly glimmered through her starting tears, Hath soul's imperishable energy. She was a cripple, and incapable To add one mite to gold-fed luxury: And therefore did her spirit dimly feel That poverty, the crime of tainting stain, Would merge her in its depths, never to rise again. II. One only son's love had supported her. Would many wish, and surely fewer dare. Then did she feel keen sorrow's keenest sting; And many years had passed ere comfort they would bring. III. For seven years did this poor woman live Thou mightst have seen her in the forest rude Her scantiness of food did scarce supply. The proofs of an unspeaking sorrow dwelt Each arrow of the season's change she felt. IV. It was an eve of June, when every star She rested on the moor. 'Twas such an eve When first her soul began indeed to grieve: Then he was there; now he is very far. Yet not devoid of rapture's mingled tear: A balm was in the poison of the sting. This aged sufferer for many a year Had never felt such comfort. She suppressed A sigh-and, turning round, clasped William to her breast! V. And, though his form was wasted by the woe Of slavery's violence and scorn did speak, Oh consummation of the fondest hope That ever soared on fancy's wildest wing! Oh tenderness that found'st so sweet a scope! When thou canst feel such love, thou shalt be great as they! VI. Her son, compelled, the country's foes had fought, Which ruled his sinews and coerced his soul Utterly poisoned life's unmingled bowl, The keen attacks of pain and poverty; VII. And now cold charity's unwelcome dole And they would perish rather than would bear The law's stern slavery, and the insolent stare Of heartless mirth which women, men, and boys, January 1812. THE MEXICAN REVOLUTION. I. BROTHERS! between you and me Yet in spirit oft I see On thy wild and winding shore See them drenched in sacred gore,- II. Shout aloud! Let every slave, Crouching at Corruption's throne, Start into a man, and brave Racks and chains without a groan; Fade like gaudy flowers that blow- III. Cotopaxi! bid the sound Through thy sister mountains ring, And O thou stern Ocean deep, IV. Ere the daystar dawn of love, Where the flag of war unfurled The fabric of a ruined world- 14 February 1812. TO IRELAND. BEAR witness, Erin! when thine injured isle 2 L |