How many visions, opening bright, Since thou hast tenanted that bed- Like waves, have sparkled, heaved and gone, For me, I love to think upon Along whose depths-cheered by no sun-- Thou art one of the chosen band That ring high harps where splendours glow; I do rejoice-and yet thy hand I've needed to guide me below. In boyhood's path I missed the care That thorns detected 'mid the flowers; O, I had few or none to share As thou would'st share, and cheer my hours. For I have wandered in a wild Where disappointment still appears; Ꮓ In thoughts of that untroubled bed Though many years have wandered by That dwells, and fondly dwells with thee; 'Tis joined with love of her, whose love, My heart to her would tribute pay. April 29th, 1826. MATERNAL LOVE. FAIR is the opening grace That blooms and blushes on the artless maid; To innocence and youth our earliest vow is paid. Yet youth is like the flower That rears its petals on the lap of May; Who that admires, laments not its brief hour, And cherishing its sweets, asks not a longer stay? Far lovelier than these, And dearer to the heart of sober joy Is she whom the delights of home can please, Who to her bosom clasps her much-loved smiling boy. O, surely none can tell, What nought but love, parental, e'er can feelHow strong, how tender is the witching spell These dear ones round us fling, from life what cares they steal. Graces, though prized, must die; Yea, even that form of symmetry, shall age Relentless, humble, and the love-lit eye That speaks and sparkles now-Time shall its fires assuage. Maternal love still new Still precious, brightens with the touch of years; O, cheerless is the heart that never knew All of its joys and pangs-its secret smiles and tears. PAGANISM COULD NOT REPLY. 6 A Hindoo of a reflecting turn of mind, but devoted to idolatry, lay on his death bed. As he saw himself about to plunge into that boundless unknown, he cried out, what will become of me?' 'O' said a Brahmin who stood by, you will inhabit another body!' And where,' said he, shall I go then?' 'Into another!' And where then?" into another, and so on, through thousands of millions!' Darting across this whole period, as though it were but an instant, he cried, 'Where shall I go then?' and Paganism could not reply. THOU canst not whisper to that soul Now pluming for her flight— Of other worlds that dimly roll Beyond those orbs of light; Thou canst not guide her trembling barque O'er yon uncertain sea; That ocean-path is wild and dark, Benighted one to thee. Thou canst not, boaster as thou art, Discern another clime; Nor calm the pulses of the heart For thou hast never known nor dreamed Upon thee yet hath never beamed What shall assure thee of a shore That ages by-past, went before To seek that unknown land? Thy immolations?-can the sigh Mercy to him, self-doomed to die Thine idols?-though the costly gem Is unction to the heart, more dear, THE YEAR. THOU unknown fragment of that scroll Whose signet was, ere Time began; Ocean, whose waves were wont to roll Ere God from nothing fashioned manWhence art thou, evanescent Year? Atom! declare, what dost thou here? Is it, perchance, to mock awhile With added moments, life's poor day? With cheating vision to beguile Man that appears and hastes away? Deceitful tide! thy meteor wave Buoys him, yet bears him to his grave. |