 | Letters of Laura D'Auverne |  |
109
WHAT IS IT?
It was seen in the dawn that encircled the earth,When the light of creation first leapt into birth;
It sprang 'mid the ocean, and laugh'd at its roar,
As it dash'd the first wave of the deep on the shore;
It thrill'd through the spheres, which the archangels trod,
In the hymns of devotion ascending to God;
In the roar of the whirlwind it circled the sky,
And the forest king shook as he heard it rush by;
In wickedness rife, wheresoever ye tread,
Yet 'tis never found out, for 'tis last in the head;
'Tis fond,—and 'tis faithful in fondness,—and yet
'Tis inclin'd to deceit,—and for ever in debt;
Its kindness to lovers can scarce be requited,
For, without it, no couple could e'er be united!
You may hide it,—divide it,—scarce leave it a name,
Still it stands from a hundred concealments the same;
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And where there's a garden, 'tis sure to be in it;
'Tis the pilot of day,—first and last to defend,—
And your bed lies unmade until it is your friend!
Though seen in the distance, 'tis never seen near,
Though on land, yet it rarely on earth doth appear;
Its changes are really surprising to some,
For though powerful in diction, 'tis deaf, and 'tis dumb;
'Tis the herald of danger,—in darkness 'tis hurl'd,—
The beginning of death, and the end of the world!
| Letters of Laura D'Auverne | |