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Howe'er unblest,

My shade would rest

While list'ning to that tone;Enough 'twould be

To hear from thee,

"Peace, peace to him that's gone !"

"TIS ALL FOR THEE.

Ir life for me hath joy or light,

'Tis all from thee,

My thoughts by day, my dreams by night,
Are but of thee, of only thee.
Whate'er of hope or peace I know,
My zest in joy, my balm in wo,
To those dear eyes of thine I owe,
'Tis all from thee.

My heart, even ere I saw those eyes,
Seemed doomed to thee;

Kept pure till then from other ties,

'Twas all for thee, for only thee.
Like plants that sleep, till sunny May
Calls forth their life, my spirit lay,
Till touched by Love's awak'ning ray,

It lived for thee, it lived for thee.

When Fame would call me to her heights,
She speaks by thee;

And dim would shine her proudest lights,
Unshared by thee, unshared by thee.
Whene'er I seek the Muse's shrine,
Where bards have hung their wreathes divine,
And wish those wreaths of glory mine,

"Tis all for thee, for only thee.

THE SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME.⚫

THERE'S a song of the olden time,
Falling sad o'er the ear,
Like the dream of some village chime,
Which in youth we loved to hear.
And even amid the grand and gay,
When Music tries her gentlest art,
I never hear so sweet a lay,

Or one that hangs so round my heart,
As that song of the olden time,

Falling sad o'er the ear,

Like the dream of some village chime,
Which in youth we loved to hear.

And when all of this life is gone,-
Even the hope, lingering now,
Like the last of the leaves left on

Autumn's sere and faded bough,—
Twill seem as still those friends were near,
Who loved me in youth's early day,

If in that parting hour I hear

The same sweet notes, and die away,—

To that song of the olden time,

Breathed like Hope's farewell strain,

To say, in some brighter clime,

Life and youth will shine again!

ROSE OF THE DESERT.

ROSE of the Desert! thou, whose blushing ray,
Lonely and lovely, fleets unseen away;
No hand to cull thee, none to woo thy sigh,-
In vestal silence left to live and die,-
Rose of the Desert! thus should woman be,
Shining uncourted, lone and safe, like thee.
Rose of the Garden, how unlike thy doom!
Destined for others, not thyself, to bloom;
Culled ere thy beauty lives through half its day;
A moment cherished, and then cast away;
Rose of the Garden! such is woman's lot,-
Worshipped, while blooming-when she fades, forgot.

In this song, which is one of the many set to music by myself, the occasional lawlessness of the metre arises, I need hardly say, from the pecular structure of the air.

WAKE THEE, MY DEAR. WAKE thee, my dear--thy dreaming Till darker hours will keep; While such a moon is beaming, 'Tis wrong tow'rd Heaven to sleep. Moments there are we number, Moments of pain and care, Which to oblivion's slumber

Gladly the wretch would spare. But now-who'd think of dreaming When Love his watch should keep? While such a moon is beaming,

"Tis wrong tow'rd Heaven to sleep.

If e'er the Fates should sever
My life and hopes from thee, love,
The sleep that lasts for ever
Would then be sweet to me, love;
But now,-away with dreaming!
Till darker hours 'twill keep;
While such a moon is beaming,
'Tis wrong tow'rd Heaven to sleep.

THE BOY OF THE ALPS.
LIGHTLY, Alpine rover,
Tread the mountains over;
Rude is the path thou'st yet to go;
Snow cliffs hanging o'er thee,
Fields of ice before thee,

While the hid torrent moans below.
Hark, the deep thunder,

Through the vales yonder!

'Tis the huge av'lanche downward cast; From rock to rock

Rebounds the shock.

But courage, boy! the danger's past.
Onward, youthful rover,

Tread the glacier over,

Safe shalt thou reach thy home at last.

On, ere light forsake thee,
Soon will dusk o'ertake thee;

O'er yon ice-bridge lies the way!
Now, for the risk prepare thee;
Safe it yet may bear thee,

Though 'twill melt in morning's ray.'

Hark, that dread howling!

"Tis the wolf prowling,

Scent of thy track the foe hath got;
And cliff and shore

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FOR THEE ALONE.

For thee alone I brave the boundless deep,
Those eyes my light through ev'ry distant sea;
My waking thoughts, the dream that giids my sleep,
The noontide rev'ry, all are given to thee,

To thee alone, to thee alone.

Though future scenes present to Fancy's eye
Fair forms of light that crowd the distant air,
When nearer viewed, the fairy phantoms fly,
The crowds dissolve, and thou alone art there,
Thou, thou alone.

To win thy smile, I speed from shore to shore,

While Hope's sweet voice is heard in every blast Still whisp'ring on, that when some years are o'er, One bright reward shall crown my toil at last, Thy smile alone, thy smile alone,

Oh place beside the transport of that hour

All earth can boast of fair, of rich, and bright, Wealth's radiant mines, the lofty thrones of powerThen ask where first thy lover's choice would light? On thee alone, on thee alone.

HER LAST WORDS, AT PARTING.

HER last words, at parting, how can I forget?

Deep treasured through life, in my heart they sha tay; Like music, whose charm in the soul lingers yet,

When its sounds from the ear have long melted awa.. Let Fortune assail me, her threat'nings are vain ; Those still-breathing words shall my talisman be"Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain,

There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee."
From the desert's sweet well though the pilgrim must hie,
Never more of that fresh-springing fountain to taste,
He hath still of its bright drops a treasured supply,
Whose sweetness lends life to his lips through the waste.
So, dark as my fate is still doomed to remain,

These words shall my well in the wilderness be-
Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain,
There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee."

SONG OF HERCULES TO HIS DAUGHTER.*

"I've been, oh, sweet daughter,

To fountain and sea,

To seek in their water

Some bright gem for thee,
Where diamonds were sleeping,
Their sparkle I sought,
Where crystal was weeping,
Its tears I have caught.

The sea-nymph I've courted
In rich coral halls;
With Naiads have sported
By bright waterfalls.
But sportive or tender,

Still sought I, around,

That gem, with whose splendor
Thou yet shalt be crowned.

And see, while I'm speaking,
Yon soft light afar ;-
The pearl I've been seeking
There floats like a star!
In the deep Indian Ocean
I see the gem shine,
And quick as light's motion
Its wealth shall be thine."
Then eastward, like lightning,
The hero-god flew,
His sunny looks bright'ning
The air he went through.
And sweet was the duty,

And hallowed the hour,

Which saw thus young Beauty

Embellished by Power.

Founded on the fable reported by Arrian (in Indicis) of Hercules

having searched the Indian Ocean, to find the pearl with which he adorned his daughter Pandæa.

LOVE'S VICTORY.

SING to Love-for, oh, 'twas he
Who won the glorious day;
Strew the wreaths of victory
Along the conqu❜ror's way.
Yoke the Muses to his car,
Let them sing each trophy won;
While his mother's joyous star
Shall light the triumph on.

Hail to Love, to mighty Love,
Let spirits sing around;
While the hill, the dale, and grove,
With "mighty Love" resound;
Or, should a sigh of sorrow steal
Amid the sounds thus echoed o'er,
"Twill but teach the god to feel
His victories the more.

See his wings, like amethyst
Of sunny Ind their nue;
Bright as when, by Psyche kist,
They trembled through and through.
Flowers spring beneath his feet;

Angel forms beside him run; While unnumbered lips repeat "Love's victory is won!"

Hail to Love, to mighty Love, &i.

LET'S TAKE THIS WORLD AS SOME WIDE
SCENE.

LET's take this world as some wide scene,
Through which, in frail, but buoyant boat,
With skies now dark and now serene,
Together thou and I must float;
Beholding oft, on either shore,

Bright spots where we should love to stay;
But Time plies swift his flying oar,

And away we speed, away, away.
Should chilling winds and rains come on,
We'll raise our awning 'gainst the shower;
Sit closer till the storm is gone,

And, smiling, wait a sunnier hour.
And if that sunnier hour should shine,
We'll know its brightness can not stay,
But happy, while 'tis thine and mine,
Complain not when it fades away.

So shall we reach at last that Fall
Down which life's currents all must gc,
The dark, the brilliant, destined all
To sink into the void below.

Nor even that hour shall want its charms,
If, side by side, still fond we keep,
And calmly, in each other's arms
Together linked, go down the steep.

THE HOMEWARD MARCH.

BE still, my heart: I hear them come: Those sounds announce my lover near: The march that brings our warriors home Proclaims he'll soon be here.

Hark, the distant tread,

O'er the mountain's head, While hills and dales repeat the sound; And the forest deer

Stand still to hear,

As those echoing steps ring round.

Be still, my heart, I hear them come,
Those sounds that speak my soldier near;
Those joyous steps seem winged for home-
Rest, rest, he'll soon be here.

But hark, more faint the footsteps grow,
And now they wind the distant glades⚫
Not here their home-alas! they go
To gladden happier maids!

Like sounds in a dream,

The footsteps seem,

As down the hills they die away;
And the march, whose song
So pealed along,

Now fades like a funeral lay.

'Tis past, 'tis o'er-hush, heart, thy pain! And though not here, alas! they come, Rejoice for those, to whom that strain Brings sons and lovers home.

THE DREAM OF HOME.

WHO has not felt how sadly sweet
The dream of home, the dream of home,
Steals o'er the heart too soon to fleet,

When far o'er sea or land we roam ?
Sunlight more soft may o'er us fall,

To greener shores our bark may come; But far more bright, more dear than all, That dream of home, that dream of home.

Ask of the sailor youth when far

His light bark bounds o'er ocear.'s foam, What charms him most, when evening's star Smiles o'er the wave? to dream of home. Fond thoughts of absent friends and loves At that sweet hour around him come; His heart's best joy, where'er he roves,

That dream of home, that dream of home.

THEY TELL ME THOU’RT THE FAVORED
GUEST.

THEY tell me thou'rt the favored guest,
Of every fair and brilliant throng;
No wit like thine to wake the jest,

No voice like thine to breathe the song;
And none could guess, so gay thou art,
That thou and I are far apart.

Alas! alas! how diff'rent flows

With thee and me the time away!

Not that I wish thee sad-Heaven knows-
Still, if thou canst, be light and gay;

I only know, that without thee
The sun himself is dark to me.

Do I thus haste to hall and bower,
Among the proud and gay to shine?
Or deck my hair with gem and flower,
To flatter other eyes than thine?
Ah! no, with me love's smiles are past,
Thou hadst the first, thou hadst the last.

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CALM BE THY SLEEP.
CALM be thy sleep as infants' slumbers!
Pure as angel thoughts thy dreams!
May ev'ry joy this bright world numbers
Shed o'er thee their mingled beams!
Or if, where Pleasure's wing hath glided,
There ever must some pang remain,
Still be thy lot with me divided—

Thine all the bliss, and mine the pain!
Day and night my thoughts shall hover
Round thy steps where'er they stray;
As, even when clouds his idol cover,
Fondly the Persian tracks its ray.
If this be wrong, if Heaven offended
By worship to its creature be,
Then let my vows to both be blended,
Half breathed to Heaven and half to thee.

THE EXILE.

NIGHT waneth fast, the morning star
Saddens with light the glimm'ring sea,
Whose waves shall soon to realms afar
Waft me from hope, from love, and thee.
Coldly the beam from yonder sky
Looks o'er the waves that onward stray;
But colder still the stranger's eye

To him whose home is far away.

Oh, not at hour so chill and bleak,

Let thoughts of me come o'er thy breast; But of the lost one think and speak,

When summer suns sink calm to rest.
So, as I wander, Fancy's dream

Shall bring me o'er the sunset seas,
Thy look, in ev'ry melting beam,
Thy whisper, in each dying breeze.

STILL WHEN DAYLIGHT.
STILL when daylight o'er the wave
Bright and soft its farewell gave,

I used to hear, while light was falling,
O'er the wave a sweet voice calling,

Mournfully at distance calling.

Ah! once how blest that maid would come,
To meet her sea-boy hast'ning home;

And through the night those sounds repeating,
Hail his bark with joyous greeting,

Joyously his light bark greeting.

But, one sad night, when winds were high,
Nor earth, nor heaven, could hear her cry,
She saw his boat come tossing over
Midnight's wave-but not her lover!

No, never more her lover.

And still that sad dream loath to leave,
She comes with wand'ring mind at eve,
And oft we hear, when night is falling,
Faint her voice through twilight calling,
Mcurafully at twilight calling.

THE SUMMER WEBS.

THE summer webs that float and shine,
The summer dews that fall,
Though light they be, this heart of mine
Is lighter still than all.

It tells me every cloud is past

Which lately seemed to lour;
That Hope hath wed young Joy at last,
And now's their nuptial hour!

With light thus round, within, above,
With naught to wake one sigh,
Except the wish, that all we love
Were at this moment nigh-

It seems as if life's brilliant sun
Had stopped in full career,

To make this hour its brightest one,
And rest in radiance here.

THE FANCY FAIR.

COME, maids and youths, for here we sell
All wondrous things of earth and air;
Whatever wild romancers tell,

Or poets sing, or lovers swear,
You'll find at this our Fancy Fair.

Here eyes are made like stars to shine,
And kept, for years, in such repair,
That even when turned of thirty-nine,
They'll hardly look the worse for wear,
If bought at this our Fancy Fair.
We've lots of tears for bards to shower,
And hearts that such ill usage bear,
That, though they're broken ev'ry hour,
They'll still in rhyme fresh breaking bear,
If purchased at our Fancy Fir.

As fashions change in everything,

We've goods to suit each season's air,
Eternal friendships for the spring

And endless loves for summer wear-
All sold at this our Fancy Fair.

We've reputations white as snow,

That long will last, if used with care, Nay, safe through all life's journey go,

If packed and marked as "brittle ware"Just purchased at the Fancy Fair.

DAOU WOULDST HAVE ME SING AND PLAY.

Ir thou wouldst have me sing and play,
As once I played and sung,

First take this time-worn lute away,

And bring one freshly strung.

Call back the time when pleasure's sigh
First breathed among the strings;
And Time himself, in flitting by,
Made music with his wings.

But how is this? though new the lute,
And shining fresh the chords,
Beneath this hand they slumber mute,
Or speak but dreamy words.
In vain I seek the soul that dwelt
Within that once sweet shell,
Which told so warmly what it felt,
And felt what naught could tell.
Dh, ask not then for passion's lay,
From lyre so coldly strung;
With this I ne'er can sing or play,
As once I played and sung.
No, bring that long-loved late again—
Though chilled by years it be,

If thou wilt call the slumb'ring strain,
'Twill wake again for thee.

Though time have frozen the tuneful stream
Of thoughts that gushed along,

One look from thee, like summer's bean,
Will thaw them into song.

Then give, oh give, that wak'ning ray
And once more blithe and young,

Thy bard again will sing and play,

As once he played and sung.

MIND NOT THOUGH DAYLIGHT.

MIND not though daylight around us is breaking

Who'd think now of sleeping when morn's but just waking?
Sound the merry viol, and daylight or not,

Be all for one hour in the gay dance forgot.
See young Aurora, up heaven's hill advancing,
Though fresh from her pillow, even she too is dancing:
While thus all creation, earth, heaven, and sea,
Are dancing around us, oh, why should not we?
Who'll say that moments we use thus are wasted?
Such sweet drops of time only flow to be tasted;
While hearts are high beating, and harps full in tune,
The fault is all morning's for coming so soon.

THEY MET BUT ONCE.
THEY met but once, in youth's sweet hour,
And never since that day

Hath absence, time, or grief had power
To chase that dream away.

They've seen the suns of other skies,

On other shores have sought delight;
But never more, to bless their eyes,
Can come a dream so bright!
They met but once-a day was all

Of Love's young hopes they knew;
And still their hearts that day recall
As fresh as then it flew.

Sweet dream of youth! oh, ne'er again
Let either meet the brow
They left so smooth and smiling then,
Or see what it is now.

For, Youth, the spell was only thine;
From thee alone the enchantment flows,
That makes the world around thee shine
With light thyself bestows.
They met but once-oh, ne'er again
Let either meet the brow

They left so smooth and smiling then,
Or see what it is now.

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BEAUTY AND SONG.
Down in yon summer vale,
Where the rill flows,
Thus said a Nightingale

To his loved Rose:-
"Though rich the pleasures
Of song's sweet measures,
Vain were its melody,
Rose, without thee."

Then from the green recess
Of her night-bower,
Beaming with bashfulness,
Spoke the bright flower:-
"Though morn should lend her
Its sunniest splendor,
What would the Rose be,
Unsung by thee ?"

Thus still let Song attend

Woman's bright way: Thus still let woman lend

Light to the ray.

Like stars, through heaven's sea,
Floating in harmony,
Beauty shall glide along,
Circled by Song.

CHILD'S SONG. FROM A MASQUE.

I HAVE a garden of my own,

Shining with flowers of every hue; I loved it dearly while alone,

But I shall love it more with you: And there the golden bees shall come, In summer-time at break of morn, And wake us with their busy hum Around the Siha's fragrant thorn.

I have a fawn from Aden's land,

On leafy buds and berries nurst; And you shall feed him from your hand Though he may start with fear at first. And I will lead you where he lies

For shelter in the noontide heat; And you may touch his sleeping eyes, And feel his little silv'ry feet.

THE HALCYON HANGS O'ER OCEAN.

THE halcyon hangs o'er ocean,
The sea-lark skims the brine;
This bright world's all in motion,
No heart seems sad but mine.
To walk through sunbright places,
With heart all cold the while;
To look in smiling faces,

When we no more can smile;
To feel, while earth and heaven
Around thee shine with bliss,
To thee no light is given-
Oh, what a doom is this!

THE WORLD WAS HUSHED. THE world was hushed, the moon above Sailed through ether slowly;

When, near the casement of my love,
Thus I whispered lowly :

"Awake, awake, how canst thou sleep? The field I seek to-morrow

Is one where man hath fame to reap,
And woman gleans but sorrow."

"Let battle's field be what it may,"

Thus spoke a voice replying,

"Think not thy love, while thou'rt away, Will here sit idly sighing. No-woman's soul, if not for fame,

For love can brave all danger!" Then forth from out the casement came A plumed and armed stranger.

A stranger? No: 'twas she, the maid,
Herself before me beaming,
With casque arrayed, and falchion blade
Beneath her girdle gleaming!
Close side by side, in freedom's fight,
That blessed morning found us;
In Vict'ry's light we stood ere night,
And Love, the morrow, crowned us!

THE TWO LOVES.

THERE are two loves, the poet sings,
Both born of Peauty at a birth:
The one, akin to heaven, hath wings,
The other, earthly, walks on earth.
With this through bowers below we play,

With nat through clouds above we soar; With Loth, perchance, may lose our way :Then, tell me which,

Tell me which shail we adore?

The one, when tempted down from air,
At Pleasure's feant to lave his lip,

Nor lingers long, nor oft will dare

His wing within the wave to dip.

While, plunging deep and long beneath,
The other bathes him o'er and o'er
In that sweet current, even to death:-
Then, tell me which,

Tell me which shall we adore ?

The boy of heaven, even while he lies
In Beauty's lap, recalls his home;
And when most happy, inly sighs

For something happier still to come.
While he of earth, too fully blest

With this bright world to dream of more, Sees all his heaven on Beauty's breast:Then, tell me which,

Tell me which shall we adore ?

The maid who heard the poet sing

These twin-desires of earth and sky,
And saw, while one inspired his string,
The other glistened in his eye-
To name the earthlier boy ashamed,

To choose the other fondly loath,
At length, all blushing, she exclaimed-
"Ask not which,

Oh, ask not which-we'll worship both. Th' extremes of each thus taught to shun, With hearts and souls between them given, When weary of this earth with one,

We'll with the other wing to heaven." Thus pledged the maid her vow of bliss; And while one Love wrote down the oath, The other sealed it with a kiss;

And Heaven looked on,

Heaven looked on, and hallowed both.

THE LEGEND OF PUCK THE FAIRY. WOULDST know what tricks, by the pale moonlight, Are played by me, the merry little Sprite,

Who wing through air from the camp to the court, From king to clown, and of all make sport; Singing, I am the Sprite

Of the merry midnight,

Who laugh at weak mortals, and love the moonlight.

To a miser's bed, where he snoring slept,

And dreamt of his cash, I slyly crept;

Chink, chink o'er his pillow like money I rang,
And he waked to catch-but away I sprang,
Singing, I am the Sprite, &c.

I saw through the leaves, in a damsel's bower:
She was waiting her love at that starlight hour:
"Hist-hist!" quoth I, with an amorous sigh,
And she flew to the door, but away flew I,
Singing, I am the Sprite, &c.

While a bard sat inditing an ode to his love,
Like a pair of blue meteors I stared from above,
And he swooned-for he thought 'twas the ghost, pear

man!

Of his lady's eyes, while away I ran, Singing, I am the Sprite, &c.

WHEN THOU ART NIGH.
WHEN thou art nigh, it seems
A new creation round;
The sun hath fairer beams,
The lute a softer sound.
Though thee alone I see,
And hear alone thy sigh,
"Tis light, 'tis song to me,
"Tis all-when thou art nigh.
When thou art nigh, no thought
Of grief comes o'er my heart;
I only think-could aught

But joy be where thou art?
Life seems a waste of breath,
When far from thee I sigh;
And death-ay, even death
Were sweet, if thou wert nigh.

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