Though never yet hath day-beam burned Yet tranquil now that man of crime Met that unclouded, joyous gaze But hark! the vesper call to prayer, From Syria's thousand minarets! And down upon the fragrant sod Kneels with his forehead to the south, Lisping the eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth; And looking, while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the glowing skies, Like a stray babe of Paradise Just lighted on that flowery plain, And seeking for its home again. Oh! 'twas a sight,- that heaven, that child, A scene, which might have well beguiled Even haughty Eblis of a sigh For glories lost and peace gone by! And how felt he, the wretched man O'er many a year of guilt and strife,— And hope and feeling, which had slept Blest tears of soul-felt penitence; In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know. "There's a drop," said the Peri, "that down from the moon The precious tears of repentance fall? Though foul thy fiery plagues within, One heavenly drop hath dispelled them all!» And now-behold him kneeling there The guilty and the guiltless one, And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven 'Twas when the golden orb had set, While on their knees they lingered yet, There fell a light more lovely far Than ever came from sun or star, From heaven's gate, to hail that tear "Joy, joy forever! my task is done- To thee, sweet Eden! how dark and sad And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad! "Farewell, ye odors of earth, that die "Farewell, ye vanishing flowers that shone In my fairy wreath so bright and brief: Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf. LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM H! THE days are gone, when beauty bright OH My heart's chain wove; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life No, there's nothing half so sweet in life Though the bard to purer fame may soar, Though he win the wise, who frowned before, He'll never meet A joy so sweet, In all his noon of fame, As when first he sung to woman's ear And at every close she blushed to hear No, that hallowed form is ne'er forgot Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot 'Twas odor fled As soon as shed; 'Twas morning's winged dream: 'Twas a light that ne'er can shine again On life's dull stream; Oh! 'twas light that ne'er can shine again On life's dull stream. Has been my heart's undoing. Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me. Her smile when Beauty granted, Whom maids by night Was turned away, Oh! winds could not outrun me. And are those follies going? For brilliant eyes Again to set it glowing? No-vain, alas! the endeavor From bonds so sweet to sever: Against a glance Is now as weak as ever. BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG CHARMS B ELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy gifts fading away: Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known, As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turned when he rose. COME, REST IN THIS BOSOM NOME, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer: C 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 'tis 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. Thou hast called me thy angel in moments of bliss, And thy angel I'll be through the horrors of this: Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue, And shield thee, and save thee, or perish there too! XVIII-644 |