And when, in other climes, we meet To live and die in scenes like this, As travellers oft look back at eve, IN THE MORNING OF LIFE. IN the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright beaming world of our own, And the light that surrounds us is all from within ; Oh 'tis not, believe me, in that happy time We can love, as in hours of less transport we may ; Of our smiles, of our hopes, 'tis the gay sunny prime, But affection is truest when these fade away. When we see the first glory of youth pass us by, Like a leaf on the stream that will never return When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so high, First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn ; Then, then is the time when affection holds sway With a depth and a tenderness joy never knew; Love, nurs'd among pleasures, is faithless as they, But the Love born of Sorrow, like sorrow, is true. In climes full of sunshine, tho' splendid the flowers, That the depth of Love's generous spirit appears; To the sunshine of smiles it may first owe its birth, But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears. WHEN COLD IN THE EARTH. WHEN cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast lov'd, Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; Or, if from their slumber the veil be remov'd, Weep o'er them in silence, and close it again. And O, if 'tis pain to remember how far From the pathways of light he was tempted to roam, Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star That arose on his darkness, and guided him home. From thee and thy innocent beauty first came The revealings that taught him true love to adore, To feel the bright presence, and turn him with shame From the idols he blindly had knelt to before. O'er the waves of a life long benighted and wild, Thou cam'st like a soft golden calm o'er the sea; And if happiness purely and glowingly smiled On his evening horizon, the light was from thee. And tho', sometimes, the shades of past folly might rise, And tho' falsehood again would allure him to stray, He but turn'd to the glory that dwelt in those eyes, And the folly, the falsehood, soon vanish'd away. As the Priests of the Sun, when their altar grew dim, At the day-beam alone could its lustre repair, So, if virtue a moment grew languid in him, He but flew to that smile, and rekindled it there. REMEMBER THEE. REMEMBER thee? yes, while there's life in this heart It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art; More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers, Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours. Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea, I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow, But O, could I love thee more deeply than now? No, thy chains as they rankle, thy blood as it runs, But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons Whose hearts, like the young of the desert-bird's nest, Drink love in each life drop that flows from thy breast. WREATH THE BOWL. WREATH the bowl With flowers of soul, The brightest Wit can find us; Towards heaven to-night, And leave dull earth behind us. Should Love amid The wreaths be hid That Joy, the enchanter brings us, While wine is near, We'll drown him if he stings us. Then wreath the bowl With flowers of soul, Towards heaven to-night, And leave dull earth behind us. 'Twas nectar fed Of old, 'tis said, Their Junos, Joves, Apollos; And man may brew His nectar too, The rich receipt 's as follows: Take wine like this, Let looks of bliss Around it well be blended, Then bring Wit's beam. To warm the stream, And there's your nectar splendid So, wreath the bowl With flowers of soul, The brightest Wit can find us; Towards heaven to-night, And leave dull earth behind us. Say, why did Time His glass sublime Fill up with sands unsightly, When wine, he knew, Runs brisker through, And sparkles far more brightly? Oh, lend it us, And smiling thus, The glass in two we'll sever, In double tide, And fill both ends for ever! |