« PředchozíPokračovat »
TO AN ILLEGITIMATE CHILD.
UNHAPPY child of indiscretion !
Poor slumberer on a breast forlorn, Pledge and reproof of past transgression,
Dear, though unwelcome to be born.
For thee, a suppliant wish addressing
To Heaven, thy mother fain would dare ; But conscious blushes stain the blessing,
And sighs suppress my
But spite of these, my mind unshaken,
In parent pity turns to thee; Though long repented, ne'er forsaken,
Thy days shall loved and guarded be.
And lest the injurious world upbraid thee,
For mine or for thy father's ill,
A hand unseen protect thee still.
And though to rank and place a stranger,
Thy life an humble course must run, Soon shalt thou learn to fly the danger,
Which I, too late, have learned to shun.
Meantime, in the sequestered valleys,
Here may'st thou rest in safe content, For innocence may smile at malice,
And thou, O thou, art innocent!
Here too thy infant wants are given,
Shelter and rest, and purest air,
My tears have dropt, and mingled there!
ON THE DEATH OF KING GEORGE III.
Bells toll for peasants, and we heed them not
But when the great, the good, the mighty die, Roused by the grandeur of their lofty lot,
We pause to listen, and reflecting sigh!
We cannot grieve alike for youth and age:
For thee, fair Scion of the royal tree,
We wept- and oh! not only wept for thee,
But thee, the age-worn Monarch of these realms,
Thyself survivor of each dearest tie;
But with the silent tear of memory.
Thy sun was not eclipsed in sudden nigat,
But ran its course, and slowly verging, set; Preparing shades had long involved its light,
And stole the poignant anguish of regret,
To spare worse pangs than ever madr:ess proved,
The darkened mind in mercy first was given; That thou might'st never mourn the fondly loved,
Nor know them lost on earth, till met in heaven!
0! what a rapturous change, from dark to light,
From double darkness, of the soul and eye, For thee — whose days were quenched in deepest night!
To thee-'t was death to live - 't is life to die!
Those darkened eyes no more obstruct the day,
That mind no more spurns reason's blest control; Far from her wretched tenement of clay,
All eye — all reason -soars the happy soul !
As death drew near, O! did not angels stand,
And high communion with thy spirit hold?
Come where the gates of Heaven for thee unfold.'
Come where, beyond the portals of the grave,
The loved the lost — to thy embraces press;
Lives — loves —and reigns eternally to bless!
THE PARTING SONG.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
I hear thee, O thou rustling stream ! thou 'rt from my native dell, Thou 'rt bearing thence a mournful sound- - a murmur of fare
well! And fare thee well;—flow on, my stream ! flow on thou bright and
free, I do but dream that in thy, voice one tone laments for me. But I have been a thing unloved, from childhood's loving years, And therefore turns my soul to thee, for thou hast known my
tears; The mountains, and the caves, and thou, my secret tears have
known : The woods can tell where he hath wept, that ever wept alone!
I see thee once again, my home! thou 'rt there amidst thy vines,
Whose quiet beauty o'er my soul through distant years
come, Yet what but as the dead, to thee, shall I be then, my home?
Not as the dead !--no, not the dead! we speak of them-we
keep Their names, like light that must not fade, within our bosoms
deep; We hallow even the lyre they touched, we love the lay they sung, We pass with softer steps the place they filled our band among! But I depart, like sound, like dew, like aught that leaves on earth No trace of sorrow or delight, no memory of its birth! I go!—the echo of the rock a thousand songs may swell, When mine is a forgotten voice.-Woods, mountains, home, fare
And farewell, mother! I have borne in lonely silence long,
thee! Brightly it would have gushed, but thou - my mother! thou hast
thrown Back on the forests and the wilds what should have been thine
LINES WRITTEN ONA STARRY NIGHT.
Ye distant, beautiful, and glowing stars,
all radiant still,