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Thou Genius of Slavery! with pestilent breath
Thou night-angel! compass their armies about; That the swords which have pierced Gallia's eagle
to death, At the lily of Bourbon may fear to flash out.
Shout, shout, Imperator! Magnanimous Czar!
Protector of nations! thy triumph's complete, Or shall be, when quenched is the patriot's star,
When the last pulse of liberty ceases to beat.
BEAUTIFUL Scio! thou wast fair,
Gem of the Archipelago!
Rivalling its sisters;—thine the glow
Along thy vales the evergreen
Thy maidens dwelt with innocence,
Her proud invincible defence;
Gem of the Archipelago!
It was the voice of gladness,
'Tis shrouded now in sadness!
Star of the Grecian! thou hast set
In darkness, o'er yon Eden-isle; Thine altars fall'n, the minaret
Rises o’er tears, and blood, and spoil! And thou art now a hideous wild
Where reckless Ruin drives its share O’er hapless mother and the child;
Beautiful Scio! once so fair, Gem of the Archipelago!
I LOVE THE BOSOM THAT CAN FEEL.
I LOVE the bosom that can feel
The griefs which mortals know; I love the lip whose accents heal
The wounds of tearful wo.
The that beams with pity's gem,
Is bright to every view; Its lustre shades the diadem,
Or ruby's sparkling hue.
In forms that fly to misery's aid,
To dry the orphan's tearAre winning grace and ease displayed,
Unrivalled by compeer.
Sweet is Apollo's silver strain,
And Sappho's melting air,
Sweeter the words that soften pain,
And banish sad despair.
Woman! while these unite in thee,
We own thy magic skill;
Is vanquished at thy will.
WHY WEEPEST THOU?
Doth gloomy fate with sullen frown
Consume thy soul with care ?
Whose dregs are dark despair?
Thy heart with anguish torn?
Shall wake a brighter morn:
Doth tender love bedeck the bier, .
Is dust with dust inurned ?
To heaven and God returned?
And decks the smiling plain,
With winter's blast doth fade and die,
But dies to bloom again;
AND I SAID, O THAT I HAD WINGS LIKE A DOVE, FOR THEN WOULD I FLY AWAY AND BEAT REST.-DAVID.
The soul that wings her airy flight
To yonder fields of starry blue,
And basks in pleasures ever new;
She bends a lingering look below,
For those that tread this vale of wo?
0! could I stretch my pathless way
To climes afar, how small would seem
The joys that gild life's passing dream:
If tear might wet those courts of joy,
The angel bliss that ne'er can cloy.
Yet, courage! though the angry storm
Hath spent its force around thy head;
Yet burns there still a steady ray,
For those that weep in sunless gloom, The Star that points the wanderer's way,
RELIGION-shines beyond the tomb!
YEARS PAST-YEARS TO COME.
Years! ended years! tell us, were not
Your moments given, that man might soon, Valued and used, without a blot,
Or blush, restore the gracious boon?
Yet is the glorious gift defiled
With deep-writ characters of shame; Lust of the world, and passion wild,
And mad ambition's guilty flame.
Where harps and hymns of beauty sound
Ye're gone, earth's discord to declare; And in eternity is found
Each wasted hour, a witness there.
Yea, and a ransom is not known,
Nor bribe, to rescue moments Aled; All else redeem! but these, once flown,
We may not they are with the dead.
Departed hours! and must ye die?
None rescued, of ye all, for God ;