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SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY
She walks in beauty, like the night
And all that's best of dark and bright
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Which waves in every raven tress,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
IF THAT HIGH WORLD
If that high world, which lies beyond
Our own, surviving Love endears; If there the cherish'd heart be fond,
The eye the same, except in tears— How welcome those untrodden spheres!
How sweet this very hour to die! To soar from earth, and find all fears
Lost in thy light—Eternity!
It must be so: 'tis not for self
And striving to o'erleap the gulf,
Oh! in that future let us think To hold each heart the heart that shares;
With them the immortal waters drink,
O! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM
O! SNATCH'D away in beauty's bloom,
And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
Away! we know that tears are vain, That Death nor heeds nor hears distress;Will this unteach us to complain!Or make one mourner weep the less .'And thou—who tell'st me to forget,
WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFERING
When coldness wraps this suffering clay.
Ah! whither strays the immortal mind?
But leaves its darken'd dust behind.
By steps each planet's heavenly way?
A thing of eyes, that all survey? y Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,
A thought unseen, but seeing all, 10 All, all in earth or skies display'd,
Shall it survey, shall it recall:
So darkly of departed years,
And all. that was, at once appears.
Before Creation peopled earth,
Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
The spirit trace its rising track. 20
And where the future mars or makes,
Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
Fix'd in its own eternity.
Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
It lives all passionless and pure:
Its years as moments shall endure.
O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly, 3° A nameless and eternal thing,
Forgetting what it was to die.
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 20
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
STANZAS FOR MUSIC
.there be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee;
Is thy sweet voice to me:
And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep; 10
Whose breast is gently heaving,
So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
SO, WE'LL GO NO MORE A ROVING
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
By the light of the moon.
STANZAS WRITTEN ON THE ROAD
Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story;
What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?'Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled.
Oh Fame !—if I e'er took delight in thy praises,