Be still my worshipped Being,
In mind and heart, in mind and heart. And bid thy song that found me
My minstrel maid, my minstrel maid! Be winter's sunbeam round me,
And summer's shade, and summer's shade. I could not gaze upon thee,
And dare thy spell, and dare thy spell,
And, when a happier won thee,
Thus bid farewell, thus bid farewell..
THE DYING SENECA.
He died not as the martyr dies,
Wrapped in his living shroud of flame; He fell not as the warrior falls,
Gasping upon the field of fame;
A gentler passage to the grave The murderer's softened fury gave.
Rome's slaughtered sons and blazing piles Had tracked the purpled demon's path, And yet another victim lived
To fill the fiery scroll of wrath; Could not imperial vengeance spare His furrowed brow and silver hair?
The field was sown with noble blood,
The harvest reaped in bitter tears,
When rolling up its crimson flood Broke the long gathering tide of years; His diadem was rent away And beggars trampled on his clay.
None wept-none pitied-they who knelt At morning by the despot's throne, At evening dashed the laurelled bust
And spurned the wreaths themselves had strown; The shout of triumph echoed wide, The self-stung reptile writhed and died!
BY P. M. WETMORE.
"T is to the pencil's magic skill Life owes the power, almost divine, To call back vanished forms at will, And bid the grave its prey resign: Affection's eye again may trace The lineaments beloved so well; The speaking look, the form of grace, All on the living canvass dwell: "Tis there the childless mother pays Her sorrowing soul's idolatry; There love can find, in after days, A talisman to memory!
"T is thine, o'er history's storied page,
To shed the halo-light of truth; And bid the scenes of by-gone age Still flourish in immortal youth- The long forgotten battle-field,
With mailed men to people forth; In bannered pride, with spear and shield, To show the mighty ones of earth— To shadow, from the holy book, The images of sacred lore; On Calvary, the dying look
That told life's agony, was o'er- The joyous hearts, and glistening eyes, When little ones were suffered near- The lips that bade the dead arise
To dry the widowed mother's tear: These are the triumphs of the art, Conceptions of the master-mind; Time-shrouded forms to being start, And wondering rapture fills mankind
THE FIRST DAY OF THE YEAR.
THE FIRST DAY OF THE YEAR. ADDRESSED TO MY DAUGHTERS.
BY MRS. S. J. HALÉ.
ONE day-it is a trifling theme, And who would heed a day? An evening's gloom, a morning's gleam, How soon they pass away! "Tis but a welcome-an adieu- The fairest day is gone;
And with to-morrow's hopes in view, We bid the hours roll on- To-day like bird in tethering string, With faded eye, and folded wing, Its narrow circle creeps;
But like a bird in airy flight, With wing of power and eye of light, To-morrow heaven-ward sweeps.
Such are the dreams of early youth, Ere dimmed, by gathering fears; The halo round the orb of Truth, Presages clouds and tears→→→ I trust, my loved ones, still ye see The brightness clear and pure, And gloomy thoughts that shadow me Unmoved I can endure-
The vine, even when its prop is lost,
THE FIRST DAY OF THE YEAR.
Its tendrils torn and tempest-tost,
May shield the little flower;
And thus I bide the world's rude strife, That I may shield your morn of life From sorrow's blighting power.
'Tis sad, as years grow short, to know Death only brings relief;
But saddest of all earthly wo, Is childhood bowed in grief;→ sunny skies let fledgings fly;
Be prairies green and fair,
Ere the young fawns come forth to try Their glancing footsteps there; Nature and Instinct guard the young- But only from the human tongue Love's holy vows are given; And only human hearts are filled With springs of Love, that, when distilled, Rise to their fount in heaven.
And thus doth feeling's signet prove
Man's origin divine,
When eye meets eye in trusting love,
We feel the sacred sign;
Of life, immortal life! how mild
The glorious promise shines,
When the young mother o'er her child, First reads the deathless lines
The spirit on its clay impresses,
« السابقةمتابعة » |