University of Virginia Library

Sweet Evening was hovering o'er hill and o'er vale,
The Night's loveliest Sister—soft, shadowy, and pale,
And gently and gradually won her mild way,
And usurped the proud throne of the gay glaring day!
And Nature was girt with a hush of repose,
And still seemed new perfections and charms to disclose,
While she lowered, by degrees, her rich sphere-jewelled veil,
And bound on, her dark zone—lit by dewy gems frail.
Then were deepening all hues of the Earth and the Sky,
Night-flower-odours were breathing through Zephyr's last sigh;
And that last sigh was dying and dying away,
Like the colouring of clouds which melts down with the day.
In tranquillity every light leaf seemed to brood,
In the green dewy hush of the hill-skirting wood,
And the Darkness grew ever more dense and profound,
And shed something of solemn sweet dreaminess round.
One light Bark was on the blue far distant sea—
Even that seemed in enchanted quiescence to be,
Like a Star on the breast of the Billows it shone—
Oh! the Heavens had their thousands—the Seas had that one!
Yet it charmed the quick eye from the others afar,
For a sweet Human Feeling was linked with that Star.
(Oh! how many a fond Heart, Love's long vigil might keep,
Till that Star of its gladness gleamed out on the deep;—
In its small sacred sphere what a priceless freight lies
Of affections, and feelings, and dear hallowed ties.
Oh! many a fond Heart might light Hope's kindling spark
At the bright reappearance of that fragile bark,
But the glory of Stars, in their regions above,
May win awe, worship, homage, but not our Heart's Love!)
The fair new-risen moon poured her young light around,
And just yellowed the Horizon—just silvered the ground,
Then I mused on a moment long melted and gone,
But that once like a moment of Paradise shown—
A moment when Life was divested of care,
(When the deep Sphery Music of Heaven thrilled the air,
And its pure Light Empyreal transcendantly played
Through the Sunshine that brightly Creation arrayed,
Yet was thrown by that clear Spirit-light into shade!)
'Twas when Joy and wild Hope were possessing my heart,
'Twas a moment too sure and too swift to depart,
And to leave no sweet likeness nor relique behind,
And yet then something seemed of that time to remind,
Though how different—and oh! how that difference was felt,
For the heart in my bosom did sorrowingly melt,
As I sadly contrasted the time that was fled
With the pale actual Time that then flew o'er my head.
Still that moment of Evening and Shadows became,
To my deep sorrowing Heart, which no hopes could inflame,
Strangely dear, with its soft gloom, beneath and above,
'Twas a moment to feel—'twas a moment to love!
All around was so peaceful, so breathless, so deep,
'Twas a moment to wish,—'twas a moment to weep;
'Twas a moment to suffer,—a moment to sigh—
Oh! a moment to dream,—or a moment to die!
For Life seem'd then like Nature, profoundly oppressed
With a languor of silence—a burthen of rest!
And gentle and soft the transition had been
To the cold dreamless sleep from the calm dreamy scene.
And yet surely I do that deep moment some wrong,
For to it did a force and a feeling belong
Which made Life, if more hushed, more concentered and still,
More like to the Life of free Spirit and Will!
For it shook Earth's vile dust from its bright wings away,
And was almost unconscious of chains and of clay;
For it gathered its strength like a tempest its might,
In that full brooding stillness—in Silence and Night.
And while Thought after Thought rose distinctly and clear,
It felt its own Power, and it ruled its own Sphere.
Oh! I wrong'd that deep moment—I did it much wrong—
It was full as 'twas calm—as 'twas silent 'twas strong;
'Twas a moment to think,—and a moment to trust,
And a moment to fling down the fetters of dust;
'Twas a moment to give to the Past—yet not grieve;
'Twas a moment to Love—and a moment to Live.

Since that time I have thought, I have felt, I have mourned,
But, alas! such a moment hath never returned;
Ne'er hath Memory my Spirit so witchingly bound,
Nor exerted a sway so serene and profound;
And if, then, I lamented and sorrowed in vain,
O'er a moment of bliss that might ne'er come again,
And if then with a lingering devotion I turned
To a moment for which I so fervently yearned—
Ah! since then but too oft have I fruitlessly longed
For that time's sweet return which I slighted and wronged!
And now, now, would I gladly be fettered once more
By those bright links which Memory wove round my Heart's core.
And though then that heart mourned o'er lost moments of bliss,
Oh! that moment of Memory was bliss matched with this!—
For her light wanes and sinks, and grows feeble and weak,
And in vain for its past lovely brightness we seek.
Yet I know few things brighter or fairer below
Than that Memory's pale Memory, like moonlight on snow!
Few things dearer I find in this dull World of care
Than that Memory so faint, of a Memory so fair!
And still amid Life's endless strife and loud stir,
To that Dream of a flown Dream I fondly recur,
And woo its wan images, clouded and changed,
To the Heart from all other enjoyments estranged.
Yes, I woo to my Heart,—by despondency bowed,
That shade of a shade, and that cloud of a cloud;
And it taketh the place, and it acteth the part
Of a hope, and a charm, and a joy to that Heart;
And its softness can soothe, and its witchery can win,
From the bleak World without, and the blank World within;
And it seems to my tearful and long-wearied sight
Like a fair lovely vision of gentle delight;
And it weareth the dyes—and it beareth the guise
Of a happy illusion serene, to these eyes.
Thus—thus as we farther and farther advance
On Life's gloomy march—while sweet forms that by chance
Crossed our paths, to enchant and to gladden and cheer,
Fade away to leave all things more dismal and drear.—
Even at last we are taught—oh! hard lesson and dire—
While we view, spark by spark, smile by smile, thus expire,
To cling as the wretch in the sinking wreck clings,
To the things we ne'er trusted before, the frail things
That but offer a longer continuance to woes
That without their vain aid might more speedily close;
And we wind the Heart's fibres round any faint dream,
Lest that poor Heart should break—happiest doom we might deem!—
When the true glowing joys it once knew are destroyed,
And its Hope is a blank, and its World is a void;
When its trust is betrayed, and its freshness is gone,
And 'tis left on this cold Earth bereaved and alone;
Then a Memory's pale Memory, with Shadows allied,
Sufficeth the heart that disdained in its pride
All that Life might desire—all that Youth should adore,
All that Earth's wealth could furnish and proffer of yore.
Ah! the rose, whose deep beauty the garden adorned,
In its freshness and fulness of sweetness we scorned,
But when hues, fragrance, brightness, and freshness depart,
The pale, dull withered leaves we hoard up next our Heart.
Thus, alas! the divinest of joys I have known,
The divinest of moments, whose bliss was full blown,
I scarce prized in possession—scarce blessed on their flight,
But even took as a tribute—received as a right,
And but saw all their charms when for ever removed,
Too estranged for enjoyment—too late to be loved.
Yet the moments to Memory then fervently given,
Had a glow and a bloom—such the clouds wear in Heaven
When the deep mellow Sunset is flushing its face,
And the Giant of Light doth repose from his race.
Still I deemed I was wretched, and darkly complained
Of the gloom and the sorrow around me that reigned;
And I felt I was Grief's hapless Victim and Slave,
And turned my dark thoughts to the Sleep of the Grave;
And my Heart seemed to cry with a faint bitter cry,
“'Tis a moment to dream—and a moment to die!”
But now, now I would gladly return to that time,
For it shared the deep fervour of feeling's fresh prime,
And while Fancy swift fluttered her many hued wings
O'er the soft and the half-saddened aspect of things,
And the Earth seemed a haunted and hallowed abode,
By beloved apparitions thronged brightly and trod.
I felt—oh! I felt—though I owned it not then,
A delight that I fear I may ne'er feel again!
And 'tis now, I with grief and with fond shame confess
That I then little knew of the truth of distress;
And I feel that deep moment when Earth could appear
Like a sweet haunted Region—a love-hallowed Sphere—
And when Memory seemed almost as strong and as bright
As Reality's fulness—a Power and a Light—
Aye! I feel that deep moment was happy and blessed,
That 'twas such as would now be, like Rapture possessed!—
That while Earth appeared linked to the calm Heaven above,
'Twas a moment to Live—and a moment to Love!
And to give to the days of the past—yet not grieve,
A sweet moment to Love—a bright moment to Live!