The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq ::

With gloomy clouds of dismal dread,
The horizon sullenly is bound;
The sun, obscured, weeps through the shade;
The zephyrs mourn along the ground,
Where Darkness reigns,
Where Woe's sad strains
Wind o'er the plains.

Valuated with Terror's sable veil,
Fringed with the sunbeam's glossy hue,
Deep lies the solitary vale,
Where round the grove a rural crew,
In smiling throng,
With sweetest song,
Charm Time along.

106

Thus seated in the breezy shade,
Before them in the winding vale,
Appeared a sweetly pensive maid,
Whose silence spoke the melting tale
Of one, who trod
From Health's abode,
Misfortune's road.

From her sad eye the tear of grief,
Unknown, gushed silently along;
The swains were moved to her relief,
And Pity wept amid the throng.
They thought their eyes,
Saw, in disguise,
One from the skies.

Lovely, as Morn, who weeps in dews;
Mild as the fragrant breath of Even;
Though streams of woe her eyes suffuse,
She shone the silver queen of heaven.
Dian her guide,
Fair Beauty's pride
In sense outvied.

While thus the swains, in rapture's trance,
Her lonely wandering steps surveyed,
Two seraphs on the wing advance,
Contending for the heaven-born maid.
So great the prize,
That e'en the skies
Viewed with surprise!

107

One of the seraphs thus began:
“My name is Fame; on earth I sway;
“The glory, pride, and boast of man,
“The world's proud kings my voice obey.
“From pole to pole,
“My glories roll;
“I rule the whole.

“Long have I made yon fair my pride,
“The brightest gem my crown adorned;
“Her name Oblivion's power defied,
“And all his low attempts has scorned.
“Forbear your claim,
“Ne'er will her name
“Descend from Fame.

“But say, if you can boast to share
“The affections of yon turtle dove,
“Why, with the storms of bleak despair,
“Do you afflict her from above?
“To force is vain;
“Where'er I reign.
“No slaves complain.”

The angel sent from heaven replied;
“We doom the fair to Mercy's road,
“To wean her love from mortal pride,
“To bliss supreme in heaven's abode.
“To heaven restore,
“A mind too pure
“For earth's wild shore.

108

“Angels with envious eyes have seen,
“Earth in her smiles supremely blest.”
He spoke; the swains beheld the scene,
And admiration swelled each breast.
Sweet queen of worth,
Heaven gave to earth
Thy angel birth!

Loud echo rent the joyful skies:
“Sweet visitant, with us remain;
“Where'er you smile, Misfortune flies,
“And Heaven enraptures all the plain.
“Hail, to thee, Fame;
“Long may'st thou claim
“The virtuous dame!”

They sung; the cloudy mists retire;
The azure skies in smiles expand;
Burst through the clouds, the solar fire
Flamed in wide lustre round the land.
From sickly fears
The fair appears.
Hail, golden years!

University of Virginia Library

VERSES TO A YOUNG LADY, LATELY RECOVERED FROM SICKNESS.