In fashion's mazes wind,

Where trilleth folly's song,

Leaving a sting behind;
Yet to my hand 'twas given

A golden harp to buy,

Such as the white-robed choir attune
To deathless minstrelsy.

Lost lost! lost!

I feel all search is vain;
That gem of countless cost
Can ne'er be mine again.

I offer no reward,

For till these heart-strings sever,
I know that Heaven-intrusted gift
Is reft away forever.

But when the sea and land

Like burning scroll have fled,
I'll see it in His hand

Who judgeth quick and dead;
And when of scath and loss

That man can ne'er repair,

The dread inquiry meets my soul,
What shall it answer there?

THE WRECK.

171

THE WRECK.

MRS. HEMANS.

ALL night the booming minute gun
Had pealed along the deep,
And mournfully the rising sun
Looked o'er the tide-worn steep.
A bark from India's coral strand,
Before the raging blast,

Had vailed her topsails to the sand,

And bowed her noble mast.

The queenly ship! brave hearts had striven,

And true ones died with her!

We saw her mighty cable riven

Like floating gossamer.

We saw her proud flag struck that morn,
A star once o'er the seas-

Her anchor gone, her deck uptorn
And sadder things than these!

We saw her treasures cast away;
The rocks with pearls were sown,
And, strangely sad, the ruby's ray
Flashed out o'er fretted stone.

And gold was strewn the wet sands o'er,

Like ashes by a breeze;

And gorgeous robes - but O, that shore

Had sadder things than these.

172

THE WRECK.

We saw the strong man still and low,

A crushed reed thrown aside;
Yet, by that rigid lip and brow,
Not without strife he died.

And near him on the sea-weed lay —
Till then we had not wept-
But well our gushing hearts might say
That there a mother slept.

For her pale arms a babe had pressed
With such a wreathing grasp,

Billows had dashed o'er that fond breast,

Yet not undone the clasp:

Her very tresses had been flung

To wrap the fair child's form,

Where still their wet, long streamers hung,
All tangled by the storm.

And beautiful, midst that wild scene,

Gleamed up the boy's dead face,
Like slumber's, trustingly serene,

In melancholy grace.

Deep in her bosom lay his head,
With half-shut, violet eye;
He had known little of her dread,
Naught of her agony.

O human love, whose yearning heart,
Through all things vainly true,

So stamps upon the mortal part
Its passionate adieu,

MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN. 173

Surely thou hast another lot.

There is some home for thee,

Where thou shalt rest, remembering not

The moaning of the sea.

MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.

BURNS.

WHEN Chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One evening, as I wandered forth
Along the banks of Ayr,

I spied a man, whose aged step
Seemed weary, worn with care;

His face was furrowed o'er with years,
And hoary was his hair.

66

Young stranger, whither wanderest thou?”
Began the reverend sage;

"Does thirst of wealth thy steps constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage;

Or haply, pressed with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began

To wander forth with me to mourn

The miseries of man.

“The sun that overhangs yon moors, Out-spreading far and wide,

Where hundreds labor to support

A haughty lordling's pride

174

MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.

I've seen yon weary winter's sun
Twice forty times return;
And every time has added proofs
That man was made to mourn.

“O man! while in thy early years
How prodigal of time!
Mis-spending all thy precious hours,
Thy glorious youthful prime;
Alternate follies take the sway,
Licentious passions burn;

Which tenfold force gives nature's law,
That man was made to mourn.

66

Look not alone on youthful prime,

Or manhood's active might;

Man then is useful to his kind,

Supported in his right;

But see him on the edge of life,

With cares and sorrows worn;

Then age and want — O, ill-matched pair-
Show man was made to mourn.

"A few seem favorites of Fate,
In Pleasure's lap carest;
Yet think not all the rich and great

Are likewise truly blest.

But O, what crowds in every land
Are wretched and forlorn!

Through weary life this lesson learn,
That man was made to mourn.