And yet how pleased we wander forth
When May is whispering," Come,
Choose from the bowers of virgin Earth
The happiest for your home;
Heaven's bounteous love through me is spread
From sunshine, clouds, winds, waves;
Drops on the mouldering turret's head,
And on your turf-clad graves!"
Lines written in an Album.
Passing through life's field of action,
Lest we part before its end,
Take within your modest volume,
This memento from a friend.
Passing through it, may we ever
Friends continue as begun;
And till death shall part us, never
May our friendship cease to burn.
WRITTEN AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF WAR.
Where now is the smile that lighten'd
Every hero's couch of rest?
Where is now the hope that brightened
Honor's eye, and pity's breast?
Have we lost the wreath we braided,
For our weary warrior men?
Is the faithless olive faded,
Must the bay be pluck'd again?
Passing hour of sunny weather,
Lovely in your light awhile,
Peace and glory wed together,
Wander'd through the blessed isle ;
And the eyes of Peace would glisten,
Dewy as a morning sun,
When the timid maid would listen
To the deeds her chief had done.
Is the hour of dalliance over?
Must the maiden's trembling feet
Waft her from her warlike lover
To the desert's still retreat?
Fare you well! with sighs we banish
Nymph so fair and guest so bright; Yet the smile, with which you vanish, Leaves behind a soothing light.
Soothing light! that long shall sparkle
O'er your warrior's sanguine way,
Through the field where horrors darkle,
Shedding Hope's consoling ray!
Long the smile his heart will cherish,
To its absent idol true,
While around him myriads perish,
Glory still will sigh for you!
Fare thee well, our last and fairest!
Dear wee Willie, fare thee well;
He who lent thee, hast recalled thee
Back with Him and His to dwell.
Fifteen moons their silver lustre
Only o'er thy brow hath shed,
When thy spirit joined the seraphs,
And thy dust the dead.
Like a sunbeam through our dwelling
Shone thy presence bright and calm;
Thou didst add a zest to pleasure, -
To our sorrows thou wert balm;
Brighter beamed thine eyes than summer;
And thy first attempt at speech
Thrill'd our heart-strings with a rapture
Music ne'er could reach.
As we gazed upon thee sleeping,
With thy fine fair locks out-spread, Thou didst seem a little angel,
Who from heaven to earth had stray'd; And, entranced we watch'd the vision,
Half in hope and half affright,
Lest what we deem'd ours, and earthly,
Should dissolve in light.
Snows o'ermantled hill and valley;
Sullen clouds begrim'd the sky,
When the first drear doubt oppress'd us,
That our child was doom'd to die!
Through each long night-watch, the taper
Showed the hectic of thy cheek;
And each anxious dawn beheld thee
More wore out and weak.
"T was even then Destruction's angel
Shook his pinions o'er our path,
Seized the rosiest of our household,
And struck Charlie down in death!
Fearful, awful! Desolation
On our lintel set his sign;
And we turned from his sad death-bed,
Willie, round to thine.
As the beams of spring's first morning
Through the silent chamber play'd,
Lifeless, in mine arms I raised thee,
And in thy small coffin laid;
Ere the day-star with the darkness,
Nine times had triumphant striven,
In one grave had met your ashes,
And your souls in heaven!
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