 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
60
TO --- ON HER BIRTH-DAY.
Again the form of Time appears,
And with his shrivell'd hand,
He adds another to the years,
That mark thine early sand;
The hours that he has given to thee,
Are those of glad festivity—
As yet, his looks are bland;
But who can hope that life shall seem
Forever, but a joyful dream!
And with his shrivell'd hand,
He adds another to the years,
That mark thine early sand;
The hours that he has given to thee,
Are those of glad festivity—
As yet, his looks are bland;
But who can hope that life shall seem
Forever, but a joyful dream!
All human power and skill, are vain,
When Fate denies, to move
The rusted links of that dark chain,
Which fetters joy and love:
And binds the heart of frolic, 'till
There is no impulse to the will,
And all its wishes rove
Like phantoms o'er the dreamer's eye,
That glow and sparkle, flit and die!
When Fate denies, to move
The rusted links of that dark chain,
Which fetters joy and love:
And binds the heart of frolic, 'till
There is no impulse to the will,
And all its wishes rove
Like phantoms o'er the dreamer's eye,
That glow and sparkle, flit and die!
Such lot, fair maid, may ne'er be thine,
And thou may'st haply glide
Adown this Beings sea of brine,
And never taste the tide:
And if Love's wishes can avail
In roving thro' life's varied gale,
Such lot were ne'er denied;
And thou might'st roam for aye, nor sigh,
The tenant of a lonely sky!
And thou may'st haply glide
Adown this Beings sea of brine,
And never taste the tide:
And if Love's wishes can avail
In roving thro' life's varied gale,
Such lot were ne'er denied;
And thou might'st roam for aye, nor sigh,
The tenant of a lonely sky!
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