NEGLECTED it is lying,

THE SERE LEAF.

Beneath the wind-shorn bough:
And who will care that leaf to rear

From its low pillow now?
Fair childhood oft, in infant glee,
Its poor form tramples thoughtlessly.

One moon ago 'twas waving

Upon its native tree:

In dalliant mood, each wind then wooed

Its beauty wantonly.

The hum-bird nestled 'neath its shade,
And quaffed the dew, in gems arrayed.

VOL. VII.

Thus mused I, roving pensively along
Beneath the covert of an ancient wood,
Where towered the forest-giants' stately throng,
And all disrobed, in naked grandeur stood.
Beneath my strolling feet a rustling flood

Of withered leaves a spacious carpet spread.

Of melancholy dreams, a shadowy brood

Winged through my brain their dismal flights so dread,
Till, like the dreary scene, fond Hope was cold and dead.

II.

I listened to the moaning blast, and thought
Within the music of that mystic noise

I heard the echo-tones of years forgot,

Which tell us how delusive are earth's toys.

I dreamed of blighted hopes, departed joys

Of young hearts broken-of proud spirits chill'd—

Of worldly bliss, which ever fleets or cloys.

My mind with countless visions wild was filled,
Which, in this darksome hour, stern Fancy had instill'd.

III.

This sickening flow of thought at length was check'd,

As a real shape appeared before my eyes:

A form, with every gem of beauty deck'd,

Which, though bedimm'd, still shone through Sorrow's guise.
To this drear spot she comes to blend her sighs

22

'His vows were oft repeated
To cling to me for aye,

My sky was bright-my heart was light-Till tyrant Death, with siroc breath,

But ah! the fickle wiles

Should call him hence away.

Of veering Chance! Those hours of bliss He plead with warmth, with look sincere,

But add the deeper pang to this.

"They told me of my beauty:

I dream'd it ne'er would fail.

I heard full oft the cadence soft

Of love's beguiling tale,

Nor e'en restrain'd th' unmanly tear.

"I need not say I trusted

I could not check th' emotion.

He faithless proved to her who loved
With woman's fond devotion.-

And though I frowned on none, 'twas still Now nought is left to me, but grief:
Long ere I felt the kindred thrill.

IV.

'My days are in the yellow leaf." "

Sad was the maiden's tale:-I felt 'twas so:
The clouds of gloom begin to lower again,
As oft the storm-fiends 'round the welkin strew
The piles of blackness:-then collect amain
Into one threatening mass the scattered train;
So did those breathings of a soul distress'd,
At first divert my mind from racking pain :-

Then all the loathsome weight together press'd,
And doubly edged the pangs which tore my laboring breast.

V.

Yet still again Fate bade the spell to break:

For scarce had I relapsed to revery,
From which I was not eager soon to wake,

(For oh! in truth a matchless luxury

Is melancholy in its purity!)

When I was startled by th' unlooked for sight

Of one, whose mien was proud, whose bearing high;
Whose eyes, enkindled with a frenzy-light,

Seem'd neath his darkling brow, like day o'erhung by night.

VI.

The wasting demon, Care, had deeply graved
His hideous furrows on that haughty cheek;
Each free-born Hope had long since been enslaved,
And doom'd Despair's dark, dreary cell to seek.
Joy's blossoms long ago had felt the bleak

And withering blast of Woe; and if some flower
Of healing virtue shone, the vulture-beak

Of keen Remorse then oped afresh the sore,
The deadly bane of Thought into the wound to pour.

VII.

Yet was that deep-set eye's fierce glare unquench'd ;
Yet was that noble brow unhumbled still;

Yet was that sunken cheek by fear unblench'd,

And that firm tread bespoke a chainless will.
His full, deep tones, made every pulse to thrill-
Each dreamy bond of meditation broke-

And caused strange fantasies my mind to fill,

As, gazing 'round, from his deep trance he woke,
And to the listening scene in fearful accents spoke.

"The race of fierce ambition

Long have I fearless run;

With eager grasp essayed to clasp

The glory rarely won.

"Next the rough waves of faction

I buffeted with zeal,

Still hoping on that soon would dawn

The day, when, at my will,

Naught stayed my reckless, headlong course The proudest heart should humbly cower,

As on I rushed with frantic force.

"I caught at Fame's bright bubble,

Its dazzling tints expending,
While on it play the colors gay
Which frolic Fancy 's lending.
But ere I reach'd the gaudy toy,
It burst, and broke the spell of joy.

"First, when the trumpet sounded

The stirring note of war,
On tented field, my heart and shield,
I dared the battle's jar.

I mock'd all hazard, while I strove
To win the prize which men so love.

And servile subjects own my power.

"Yet still the precious jewel

Was not to me afforded;
The glorious meeds of valiant deeds
My courage ne'er rewarded:
And specious intrigue, freely wielded,
The bliss so longed-for never yielded.

Oft would some prospect cheering
Throw light across my sky,
Until I found no earthly bound

My thirst could satisfy.
'Tis disappointment all and grief-
My days are in the yellow leaf.'”

VIII.

Impatient and insatiate Lust of Fame!

For rest thou pantest, yet would restless be!
Upon the splendors of an empty name

Longing to pass to immortality,

At every step th' entangling mesh thou 'lt see!

The tower which thou would'st build may upward rise,

Until its summit shall appear to thee

One step from Heaven-but, view'd with clearer eyes—
Though pile on pile thou rear'st, thou ne'er canst scale the skies!

Where smiles and tears, where hopes and I know no joy! all, all is woe!

fears,

Their varying shadows threw.

But it is past-their fitful tide

Has ceased, for ever ceased, to glide.

Oh! when shall I be free!
Come! Death, remove me from my grief!

My days are in the yellow leaf.'”

XI.

He said, and stoop'd to touch the faded thing:
When, bursting from its prison-house of rock,
A whirlwind madly rushes, thundering

As if 'twould heaven's pealing ordnance mock.
The sturdiest forests bow before the shock:

Some yield, all shattered, to the tempest's might,
And fall beneath the unresisted stroke.

The leaf, far, far beyond all human sight,
Upwafted by the blast, soars on in heavenward flight.

XII.

What means that smile serene that gathers now

Upon the aged face of him who prayed

For Death's rough rescue? And that furrowed brow,
Which was but lately by Despair down-weighed—

Why now divested of its gloomy shade?

Toward that same spot, where last that leaf updriven

Was seen to float, that straining eye is stayed.

A life-a vigor to that frame is given

Well may the old man smile, for now he dreams of Heaven!

"Avaunt! all worldly sorrows!

I now can scorn ye all!

What are ye worth, ye joys of earth,

Which must, like flowers, fall? Soon may that world by me be trod, Which is unfading, like my God.

"Be thou, poor lifeless leaflet, My harbinger to bliss!

I'll follow thee, and soon shall see

My home-my happiness.
Like thee I'll mount! I'll soar away
To rest me in eternal day.

"Ho! ye who now are pining

Beneath Affliction's dart:
Thou, who, forlorn, dost ever mourn

A lover's faithless heart;
And thou, who writhest now with pain
To find thy hopes of greatness vain ;

"Come ye! and learn the lesson

Taught by the faded leaf:
Though here below your life is woe,

Above there is relief.

Though on life's waves we 're roughly
driven,

Yet all is bright and calm in Heaven."
LUCE.