STANZAS. Love, like that bird, when friendship's throng With fortune's sun depart, Still lingers with its cheerful song, And nestles on the heart. STANZAS. THE Voice of Spring! and blushing flowers Wooing from sunbeams and from showers A free exchange of sweets: Blithe birds their matin notes prolong Among the cottage vines: And cottage children list the song Sweet incense to sweet shrines! Oft turning, glides away— All things of Paradise the dream To this dim spot convey. Hearts! which the sweet affections bind With nature's purest tie, Where hope and faith are deeply shrined, Too deeply, soon to die Ye love the season! pure as light, Untired the spirits play: Rich dreams are yours for coming night, And richer still for day 229 'Speed, speed my bark! life's laughing seas Are not as false as fair'— The white sail fills-cold blows the breeze And rocks have darkened there! The voice of Autumn! earth receives Rustling around, the yellow leaves No bloom or balm to cheer the hours; The blithe bird sings no more: Hoarse brawls the stream in forest bow'rs, That murmured sweet before: Through the black woodland, dim and pale The dying hills appear; And hark! the moaning night-winds wail 'The requiem of the year! Hearts! where misfortune has effaced The sunrise beams of youth; And cold experience truly traced, 'Earth is no home for truth;' Fame, friendship, pleasure—vainly bought— Love-wasted to a sigh Dark night descending-ere ye thought The gentle evening nigh: What hope remains? 'lone Autumn's smile To mourners kindly given Wasted on changing earth awhile Beams from unchanging heaven.' BY F. S. ECKARD NIGHT! solitary night! Sleep on the weary, pleasant dreams for wo, Birds on the sheltering nest, Young flowers unfolded to the dewy air, With thee a shadowy band, Rise like remembered music on our ears, Night! solitary night! Bards of undying fame and power are thine, Around thy shrine: Oh, how wert thou adored, When the Chaldean read thy bright array, Awak'ner of high thought; And passion struggling with the solid earth! 232 TO A FRIEND By thee mankind are eloquently taught Their primal wortn. Night! solitary night! Immortal pages, glowing with deep song, wwwwwww... TO A FRIEND. FAREWELL! perchance we meet no more Upon this dreary earth; Fill up! for parting hours should be So let us tinge the coming cloud Thou just one! in thy spirit TO A FRIEND. They told thee I was stern and cold, From one by his own feeling doomed Fools! little know they that the heart Resigns its citadel to pride- Fill up! and when the golden wine His cheerful smile and manly song Can gladden us no more. Peace to his ashes! o'er his grave The screaming sea-bird wheels; The silver wave, with timid step, To kiss its bosom steals, The spicy winds moan over it A sadly musical strain But fill! here's the name of MILLER Once more-again—again! Alas, alas, that MEMORY Should be still in love with Wo; That her brightest glances linger On the dreariest spots below, 233 |