Lorn Echo of these mouldering walls, Awakes thee to rejoice! How still thy sleep! as death profound- Had ne'er aroused thy voice! Thou hear'st the zephyr murmuring, dying, The harp is broke, the song is fled, With plaintive close! Proud Castle! though the days are flown Who sought the field, who struck the lyre, Nor wilt thou, Spring! refuse to breathe Refuse to twine thine earliest wreath, And fringe these towers with garlands fair! Sweets of the wild, oh! ever bloom Unheeded on this ivied wall! Lend to the gale a rich perfume, And grace the ruin in its fall! Thus round Misfortune's holy head, Would Pity wreaths of honour spread; Like you, thus blooming on this lonely pile, She seeks Despair, with heart-reviving smile! CHRISTMAS CAROL. FAIR Gratitude! in strain sublime, CHORUS. For lo! the day, th' immortal day, 'Twas on this day-oh, love divine !— The Orient Star's effulgence rose; Then waked the Morn, whose eye benign Shall never, never close! CHORUS. Messiah be thy name adored, This day, from heaven's empyreal dwelling, Wake the loud paan, tune the voice, Children of heaven and sons of earth! Seraphs and men ! exult, rejoice, To bless the Saviour's birth! CHORUS. Devotion light thy purest fire! Transport! on cherub wing aspire! Praise! wake to Him thy golden lyre, Strike every thrilling chord ! While, at the Ark of Mercy kneeling, We own thy grace, reviving, healing, Redeemer! Lord! THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. WHENCE are those tranquil joys in mercy given, Favour'd of heaven! O Genius! are they thine, When round thy brow the wreaths of glory shine; While rapture gazes on thy radiant way, Midst the bright realms of clear and mental day? No! sacred joys! 'tis yours to dwell enshrined, Most fondly cherish'd, in the purest mind; To twine with flowers those loved, endearing ties, On earth so sweet-so perfect in the skies! Nursed in the lap of solitude and shade, The violet smiles, embosom'd in the glade There sheds her spirit on the lonely gale, Gem of seclusion! treasure of the vale! Thus, far retired from life's tumultuous road, Domestic Bliss has fixed her calm abode Where hallow'd Innocence and sweet Repose May strew her shadowy path with many a rose. As, when dread thunder shakes the troubled sky, The cherub, Infancy, can close its eye, And sweetly smile, unconscious of a tear, While viewless angels wave their pinions near; Thus, while around the storms of Discord roll, Borne on resistless wing from pole to pole, While War's red lightnings desolate the ball, And thrones and empires in destruction fall; Then calm as evening on the silvery wave, When the wind slumbers in the ocean cave, She dwells unruffled, in her bower of rest, Her empire Home!-her throne, Affection's breast! For her, sweet Nature wears her loveliest blooms, And softer sunshine every scene illumes. When Spring awakes the spirit of the breeze, Whose light wing undulates the sleeping seas; When Summer, waving her creative wand, Bids verdure smile, and glowing life expand; Or Autumn's pencil sheds, with magic trace, O'er fading loveliness, a moonlight grace; Oh! still for her, through Nature's boundless reign, No charm is lost, no beauty blooms in vain ; While mental peace, o'er every prospect bright, And gilds the midnight of thy deep repose! Bower of repose! when, torn from all we love, Through toil we struggle, or through distance rove; To thee we turn, still faithful, from afarThee, our bright vista! thee, our magnet-star! And from the martial field, the troubled sea, Unfetter'd thought still roves to bliss and thee! When ocean-sounds in awful slumber die, No wave to murmur, and no gale to sigh; Wide o'er the world when Peace and Midnight reign, And the moon trembles on the sleeping main; At that still hour, the sailor wakes to keep, Midst the dead calm, the vigil of the deep! No gleaming shores his dim horizon bound, All heaven-and sea-and solitude-around! Then, from the lonely deck, the silent helm, From the wide grandeur of the shadowy realm, Still homeward borne, his fancy unconfined, Leaving the worlds of ocean far behind, Wings like a meteor-flash her swift career, To the loved scenes, so distant, and so dear! Lo! the rude whirlwind rushes from its cave, And Danger frowns-the monarch of the wave! Lo rocks and storms the striving bark repel, And Death and Shipwreck ride the foaming swell! Child of the ocean! is thy bier the surge, Thy grave the billow, and the wind thy dirge? Yes! thy long toil, thy weary conflict o'er, No storm shall wake, no perils rouse thee more! Yet, in that solemn hour, that awful strife, The struggling agony for death or life, E'en then thy mind, embittering every pain, Retraced the image so beloved-in vain! Still to sweet Home thy last regrets were true, Life's parting sigh-the murmur of adieu ! Can war's dread scenes the hallow'd ties efface, Each tender thought, each fond remembrance chase? Can fields of carnage, days of toil, destroy The loved impression of domestic joy? Ye daylight dreams! that cheer the soldier's breast, In hostile climes, with spells benign and blest, "Hail, weary soldier !-never more to part!" And lo! at last, released from every toil, He comes the wanderer views his native soil! Then the bright raptures words can never speak Flash in his eye and mantle o'er his cheek! Then Love and Friendship, whose unceasing prayer Implored for him each guardian-spirit's care; Who, for his fate, through sorrow's lingering year, Had proved each thrilling pulse of hope and fear; In that blest moment, all the past forgetHours of suspense and vigils of regret ! And oh! for him, the child of rude alarms, Rear'd by stern danger in the school of arms! How sweet to change the war-song's pealing note For woodland-sounds in summer air that float! Through vales of peace, o'er mountain wilds to roam, And breathe his native gales, that whisper-Home!' Hail, sweet endearments of domestic ties, Charms of existence ! angel sympathies ! Though Pleasure smile, a soft Circassian queen ! And guide her votaries through a fairy scene, Where sylphid forms beguile their vernal hours With mirth and music in Arcadian bowers; Though gazing nations hail the fiery car That bears the Son of Conquest from afar, While Fame's loud paan bids his heart rejoice, And every life-pulse vibrates to her voice ;Yet from your source alone, in mazes bright, Flows the full current of serene delight! On Freedom's wing, that every wild explores, Through realms of space, th' aspiring eagle soars! Darts o'er the clouds, exulting to admire, Meridian glory-on her throne of fire! Bird of the Sun! his keen unwearied gaze Hails the full noon, and triumphs in the blaze; But soon, descending from his height sublime. Day's burning fount, and light's empyreal clime, Once more he speeds to joys more calmly blest, Midst the dear inmates of his lonely nest! Thus Genius, mounting on his bright career Dilate the noblest energies of thought ;) Ah! weep for those, deserted and forlorn, From every tie by fate relentless torn; See, on the barren coast, the lonely isle, Raise the dim eye, and lift the suppliant hand! Thence, roving wild through many a depth of shade, Where voice ne'er echo'd, footstep never stray'd, The wood's deep sigh, the surge's distant moan! Lo! through the waste, the wilderness of snows, With fainting step, Siberia's exile goes! Homeless and sad, o'er many a polar wild, Where beam, or flower, or verdure never smiled; Where frost and silence hold their despot-reign, And bind existence in eternal chain ! Child of the desert! pilgrim of the gloom! Dark is the path which leads thee to the tomb! While on thy faded cheek the arctic air Congeals the bitter tear-drop of despair! Yet not that fate condemns thy closing day In that stern clime to shed its parting ray; Not that fair nature's loveliness and light No more shall beam enchantment on thy sight; Ah! not for this-far, far beyond relief, Deep in thy bosom dwells the hopeless grief; But that no friend of kindred heart is there, Thy woes to mitigate, thy toils to share; That no mild soother fondly shall assuage The stormy trials of thy lingering age; No smile of tenderness, with angel power, Lull the dread pangs of dissolution's hour; For this alone, despair, a withering guest, Sits on thy brow, and cankers in thy breast! Yes! there, e'en there, in that tremendous clime, Where desert grandeur frowns in pomp sublime; Where winter triumphs, through the polar night, That smile, by circling Pyrenees embraced, And thus, Affection, can thy voice compose The stormy tide of passions and of woes; Bid every throb of wild emotion cease, And lull misfortune in the arms of peace! Oh! mark yon drooping form, of aged mien, Wan, yet resign'd, and hopeless, yet serene! Long ere victorious time had sought to chase The bloom, the smile, that once illumed his face, That faded eye was dimm'd with many a care, Those waving locks were silver'd by despair! Yet filial love can pour the sovereign balm, Assuage his pangs, his wounded spirit calm! He, a sad emigrant! condemn'd to roam In life's pale autumn from his ruin'd home, Has borne the shock of Peril's darkest wave, Where joy and hope—and fortune - found a grave! "Twas his to see Destruction's fiercest band Rush, like a Typhon, on his native land, And roll triumphant on their blasted way, In fire and blood, the deluge of dismay! Unequal combat raged on many a plain, And patriot-valour waved the sword in vain! Ah! gallant exile! nobly, long, he bled, Long braved the tempest gathering o'er his head! Till all was lost! and horror's darken'd eye Roused the stern spirit of despair to die! Ah! gallant exile! in the storm that roll'd Torn by the blast, were scatter'd on the tomb! B |