Page images
PDF
EPUB

To paint that living light I see,
And fix the soul that sparkles there."
His prayer as soon as breathed was heard ;
His pallet touched by Love grew warm,
And painting saw her thus transferred
From lifeless flowers to woman's form.
Still, as from tint to tint he stole,

The fair design shone out the more,
And there was now a life, a soul,

Where only colors glowed before. Then first carnation learned to speak,

And lilies into life were brought;
While mantling on the maiden's cheek,
Young roses kindled into thought:
Then hyacinths their darkest dyes
Upon the locks of beauty threw ;
And violets transformed to eyes,
Inshrined a soul within their blue.
CHORUS.

Blest be Love, to whom we owe
All that's bright and fair below;
Song was cold and painting dim,
Till song and painting learned from him.

THOMAS Moore.

UP QUIT THY BOWER.

UP! quit thy bower! late wears the hour,
Long have the rooks cawed round the tower;
O'er flower and tree loud hums the bee,
And the wild kid sports merrily.
The sun is bright, the sky is clear;
Wake, lady, wake! and hasten here.

Up, maiden fair! and bind thy hair,
And rouse thee in the breezy air!
The lulling stream that soothed thy dream
Is dancing in the sunny beam.
Waste not these hours, so fresh, so gay:
Leave thy soft couch, and haste away!
Up! Time will tell the morning bell
Its service-sound has chiméd well;
The aged crone keeps house alone,
The reapers to the fields are gone.
Lose not these hours, so cool, so gay:

Lo! while thou sleep'st they haste away!

JOANNA BAILLIE.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

I call thee, I await thee, and I love thee;

Many may worship thee, that will I not; If that thy spirit down to mine may move thee, Descend and share my lot!

Though I be formed of clay,

And thou of beams

More bright than those of day
On Eden's streams,

Thine immortality cannot repay
With love more warm than mine
My love. There is a ray

In me, which, though forbidden yet to shine,
I feel was lighted at thy God's and thine.
It may be hidden long: death and decay

Our mother Eve bequeathed us, but my heart
Defies it; though this life must pass away,
Is that a cause for thee and me to part?
Thou art immortal; so am I: I feel-
I feel my immortality o'ersweep

All pains, all tears, all time, all fears, and peal,
Like the eternal thunders of the deep,
Into my ears this truth," Thou liv'st forever!"

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

All night has the casement jessamine stirred
To the dancers dancing in tune,
Till a silence fell with the waking bird,
And a hush with the setting moon.

I said to the lily, "There is but one
With whom she has heart to be gay.
When will the dancers leave her alone?
She is weary of dance and play."
Now half to the setting moon are gone,
And half to the rising day;

Low on the sand and loud on the stone
The last wheel echoes away.

I said to the rose, The brief night goes

In babble and revel and wine.

O young lord-lover, what sighs are those

For one that will never be thine? But mine, but mine," so I sware to the rose, "For ever and ever mine!"

And the soul of the rose went into my blood,

As the music clashed in the hall;

And long by the garden lake I stood,

For I heard your rivulet fall

And the best of all ways

To lengthen our days

Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Now all the world is sleeping, love, Our wood, that is dearer than all;

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

But the sage, his star-watch keeping, love, And I, whose star,

More glorious far,

[blocks in formation]

With a blush and a smile, Kitty rose up the while,

Her eye in the glass, as she bound her hair, glancing;

"Tis hard to refuse when a young lover sues,

So she could n't but choose to go off to the

[blocks in formation]

Sweet Kate! who could view your bright eyes

of deep blue,

Beaming humidly through their dark lashes so mildly,

Your fair-turned arm, heaving breast, rounded form,

Nor feel his heart warm, and his pulses throb wildly?

Poor Pat feels his heart, as he gazes, depart, Subdued by the smart of such painful yet sweet love;

The sight leaves his eye as he cries with a sigh,

"Dance light, for my heart it lies under your feet, love!"

DENIS FLORENCE MACCARTHY.

O NANCY, WILT THOU GO WITH ME?

O NANCY, wilt thou go with me,
Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town?
Can silent glens have charms for thee,
The lonely cot and russet gown?
No longer drest in silken sheen,

No longer decked with jewels rare, Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene Where thou wert fairest of the fair?

O Nancy when thou 'rt far away,

Wilt thou not cast a wish behind? Say, canst thou face the parching ray, Nor shrink before the wintry wind? O, can that soft and gentle mien

Extremes of hardship learn to bear, Nor sad regret each courtly scene Where thou wert fairest of the fair?

O Nancy! canst thou love so true, Through perils keen with me to go, Or when thy swain mishap shall rue,

To share with him the pang of woe? Say, should disease or pain befall,

Wilt thou assume the nurse's care, Nor wistful those gay scenes recall

Where thou wert fairest of the fair?

And when at last thy love shall die,

Wilt thou receive his parting breath? Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,

And cheer with smiles the bed of death? And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay, Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear, Nor then regret those scenes so gay Where thou wert fairest of the fair?

THOMAS PERCY, D.D.

BEDOUIN LOVE SONG.

FROM the Desert I come to thee,
On a stallion shod with fire;
And the winds are left behind
In the speed of my desire.
Under thy window I stand,

And the midnight hears my cry:
I love thee, I love but thee!
With a love that shall not die
Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgment
Book unfold!

Look from thy window, and see
My passion and my pain!
I lie on the sands below,

And I faint in thy disdain.
Let the night-winds touch thy brow
With the heat of my burning sigh,
And melt thee to hear the vow

Of a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold,

And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgment
Book unfold!

My steps are nightly driven,

By the fever in my breast, To hear from thy lattice breathed The word that shall give me rest. Open the door of thy heart,

And open thy chamber door, And my kisses shall teach thy lips The love that shall fade no more Till the sun grows cold,

And the stars are old,

And the leaves of the Judgment
Book unfold!

BAYARD TAYLOR.

COME, REST IN THIS BOSOM.

FROM IRISH MELODIES."

COME, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home

is still here;

Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o'ercast, And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last.

Oh! what was love made for, if 't is not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory

and shame?

I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,
I but know that I love thee, whatever thou

art.

[graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »