A PARENTAL ODE TO MY SON.
THOυ happy, happy elf!
(But stop-first let me kiss away that tear)
Thou tiny image of myself!
(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)
Thou merry, laughing sprite!
With spirits feather light,
Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin,
(Good heavens! the child is swallowing a pin!)
Thou little tricksy Puck!
With antic toys so funnily bestuck,
Light as the singing bird that wings the air,
(The door! the door! he'll tumble down the stair!)
Thou darling of thy sire!
(Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore afire!)
Thou imp of mirth and joy!
In love's dear chain so strong and bright a link,
Thou idol of thy parents (Drat the boy!
There goes my ink!)
Thou cherub-but of earth;
Fit playfellow for Fays by moonlight pale,
In harmless sport and mirth,
(That dog will bite him if he pulls its tail!)
Thou human humming-bee, extracting honey
From every blossom in the world that blows,
Singing in youth's Elysium ever sunny,
(Another tumble-that's his precious nose!)
Thy father's pride and hope!
(He'll break the mirror with that skipping-rope!)
With pure heart newly stamped from nature's mint,
(Where did he learn that squint ?)
THE well known Delta (A) of "Blackwood's Magazine" was born at Musselburgh, near Edinburgh, in 1798. He passed through the University with credit, and commenced practice as a surgeon in his native town, where he continued till his death. At the age of nineteen he sent his first verses to the press, and for thirty years he continued to enrich
"Blackwood" with a series of poems, remarkable for their depth and purity of feeling. In the same magazine was first published "Mansie Wauch," a prose embodiment of Scottish character of the richest humour. He died in 1851.
FROM "THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS."
ONCE on a time, when all was still,
When midnight mantled vale and hill,
And over earth the stars were keeping
Their lustrous watch, it has been said,
A poet on his couch lay sleeping,
As pass'd a vision through his head :
It may be rash-it can't be wrong
To pencil what he saw in song;
And if we go not far amiss,
'Twas this--or something like to this.
Firstly, through parting mists, his eye
The snowy mountain-peaks explored,
Where, in the dazzling gulfs of sky,
The daring eagle wheeled and soared;
And, as subsiding lower, they
Owned the bright empire of the day,
Softly arrayed in living green,
The summits of the hills were seen,
On which the orient radiance played,
Girt with their garlands of broad trees,
Whose foliage twinkled in the breeze,
And formed a lattice-work of shade:
And darker still, and deeper still,
As widened out each shelving hill,
Dispersing placidly they showed,
The destined plains for man's abode-
Meadow, and mount, and champaign wide;
And sempiternal forests, where
Wild beasts and birds find food and lair;
And verdant copse by river side,
Which threading these—a silver line
Was seen afar to wind and shine
Down to the mighty sea that wound
Islands and continents around,
And, like a snake of monstrous birth,
In its grim folds encircled earth!
Then wider as awoke the day,
Was seen a speck--a tiny wing
That, from the sward, drifting away,
Rose up at heaven's gate, to sing
A matin hymn melodious: Hark!
That orison !-it was the lark,
Hailing the advent of the sun,
Forth like a racer come to run
His fiery course; in brilliant day
The vapours vanishing away,
Had left to his long march a clear
Cloud-unencumbered atmosphere;
And glowed, as on a map unfurled,
The panorama of the world.
Fair was the landscape-very fair-
Yet something still was wanting there;
Something, as 'twere, to lend the whole
Material world a type of soul.
The dreamer wist not what might be
The thing a-lacking; but while he
Pondered in heart the matter over,
Floating between him and the ray
Of the now warm refulgent day,
What is it that his eyes discover?
As through the fields of air it flew,
Larger it loomed, and fairer grew
That form of beauty and of grace,
Which bore of grosser worlds no trace,
Until, as Earth's green plains it neared,
Confest, an Angel's self appeared.
Eye could not gaze on shape so bright, Which from its atmosphere of light, And love, and beauty, shed around, From every winnow of her wings, Upon the fainting air perfumes,
Sweeter than Thought's imaginings; And at each silent bend of grace, The dreamer's ruptured eye could trace, (Far richer than the peacock's plumes,) A rainbow shadow on the ground, As if from out elysium's bowers,
From brightest gold to deepest blue,
Blossoms of every form and hue
Had fallen to earth in radiant showers.
Vainly would human words convey
Spiritual music, or portray
Seraphic loveliness-the grace
Flowing like glory from that face,—
Which, as 'twas said of Una's, made
Where'er the sinless virgin strayed,
A sunshine in the shady place:
The snow-drop was her brow; the rose
Her cheek; her clear full gentle eye
The violet in its deepest dye;
The lily of the Nile her nose;
Before the crimson of her lips
Carnations waned in dim eclipse;
And downwards o'er her shoulders white,
As the white rose in fullest blow,
Her floating tresses took delight
To curl in hyacinthine flow :
Her vesture seemed as from the blooms
Of all the circling seasons wove,
With magic warp in fairy looms,
And tissued with the woof of love.
THIS distinguished poet was born at Muirhouse, in Renfrewshire, where his father was a farmer. He studied at the University of Glasgow, and was educated for the ministry in the (Presbyterian) United Secession Church. Previous to being licenced he had finished his "Course of Time," a poem so ambitious for a young student, that he had difficulty in obtaining a publisher. Through the influence of Professor Wilson it was at length published in Edinburgh, and speedily obtained an extensive circulation. Pollok is also the author of some prose tales on the Covenanters, which have had a considerable sale. But health had been undermined by excessive study. He undertook a journey to Italy in the hope of re-establishing it, but it was too late, the disease was too far advanced, and he returned only to die at Southampton on 15th September 1827.
NOT unremembered is the hour when friends
Met. Friends, but few on earth, and therefore dear;
Sought oft, and sought almost as oft in vain;
Yet always sought, so native to the heart,
So much desired and coveted by all.
Nor wonder those-thou wonderest not, nor need'st.
Much beautiful, and excellent, and fair,
Than face of faithful friend, fairest when seen
In darkest day; and many sounds were sweet,
Most ravishing and pleasant to the ear;
But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend,
Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm.
Some I remember, and will ne'er forget;
My early friends, friends of my evil day;
Friends in my mirth, friends in my misery too;
Friends given by God in mercy and in love;
My counsellors, my comforters, and guides;
My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy;
Companions of my young desires; in doubt
My oracles, my wings in high pursuit.
O, I remember, and will ne'er forget,
Our meeting spots, our chosen sacred hours,
Our burning words that uttered all the soul,
Our faces beaming with unearthly love;
Sorrow with sorrow sighing, hope with hope
Exulting, heart embracing, heart entire.
As birds of social feather helping each
His fellow's flight, we soared into the skies,
And cast the clouds beneath our feet, and Earth,
With all her tardy, leaden-footed cares,
And talked the speech, and ate the food of heaven!
THERE was another, large of understanding,
Of memory infinite, of judgment deep,
Who knew all learning, and all science knew;
And all phenomena in heaven and earth
Traced to their causes; traced the labyrinths
Of thought, association, passion, will;
And all the subtile, nice affinities
Of matter traced; its virtues, motions, laws;
And most familiarly and deeply talked
Of mental, moral, natural, divine.
Leaving the earth, at will he soared to heaven,
And read the glorious visions of the skies;
|