 | Specimens of American poetry |  |
THOMAS WELLS
366
AT MUSING HOUR.
At musing hour of twilight gray,
When silence reigns around,
I love to walk the churchyard way,
To me 't is holy ground.
When silence reigns around,
I love to walk the churchyard way,
To me 't is holy ground.
To me, congenial is the place
Where yew and cypress grow;
I love the moss-grown stone to trace,
That tells who lies below.
Where yew and cypress grow;
I love the moss-grown stone to trace,
That tells who lies below.
And, as the lonely spot I pass
Where weary ones repose,
I think, like them, how soon alas!
My pilgrimage will close.
Where weary ones repose,
I think, like them, how soon alas!
My pilgrimage will close.
Like them, I think, when I am gone,
And soundly sleep as they,
Alike unnoticed, and unknown,
Shall pass my name away.
And soundly sleep as they,
Alike unnoticed, and unknown,
Shall pass my name away.
Yet ah! and let me lightly tread!
She sleeps beneath this stone
That would have soothed my dying bed,
And wept for me when gone!
She sleeps beneath this stone
That would have soothed my dying bed,
And wept for me when gone!
Her image—'t is to memory dear—
That clings around my heart,
And makes me fondly linger here,
Unwilling to depart.
That clings around my heart,
And makes me fondly linger here,
Unwilling to depart.
SOLITUDE.
Embosom'd in thy shades, O Solitude!
Thy leafy canopies and forests rude;
Where silence reigns, save when the moping bird,
Tuneless, from yonder ivied nook is heard
To greet the coming night; remote from scenes of care,
I sit me down your quietude to share;
And all resign'd to contemplation's power,
Devote to thee one still propitious hour;
One hour, when, earth forgot, the spirit wings
Her heaven-bound flight, and, as she upward springs,
Seems to commune with long departed years,
To talk with gods, and mingle with the spheres.
Thy leafy canopies and forests rude;
Where silence reigns, save when the moping bird,
Tuneless, from yonder ivied nook is heard
To greet the coming night; remote from scenes of care,
I sit me down your quietude to share;
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Devote to thee one still propitious hour;
One hour, when, earth forgot, the spirit wings
Her heaven-bound flight, and, as she upward springs,
Seems to commune with long departed years,
To talk with gods, and mingle with the spheres.
Ye labyrinthian wilds, and russet glades—
Dark-nodding pines, and venerable shades—
Ye time-worn steeps of gray—ye hermit cells,
Where, queen of sylvan talk, sweet echo dwells,
Voiced daughter of the air—thou towering chain
Of everlasting hills, whose tops attain
The pendant cloud, and greet the morning beam—
Fountains! from whose redundant bosoms stream
The winding crystal brooks, and, as they take
Their course, to fancy's ear wild music make;
Ye oaks! briarean monarchs of the wood,
That unsubdued the elements have stood;
And still that seem indignant to defy
The accumulated forces of the sky:—
Abodes impervious to the day! Ye caves,
That murmur to the distant roar of waves,
When, by the winds upborne, old ocean pours
His beating surge along the far-off shores;
Ye rocks, colossal sentinels, whose forms
For ages have withstood the siege of storms;
Upon whose rough and adamantine peak,
The earth-disdaining eagle whets his beak,
Whence sightless soaring, ere the day's begun,
Leaves the dark vales below, and welcomes up the sun:
Ye consecrated haunts, long fondly woo'd
On your repose no stranger feet intrude;
Fled from the busy stirring city's hum,
To your recess a worshipper I come;
From a toss'd world, in thee a calm I find,
Benign content—the sabbath of the mind.
[OMITTED]
And thou, of these abodes, O genius blest,
To your domain receive your votary guest;
To you, amidst your sylvan lodge, and wild attire,
The muse devotes the meditative lyre.
Dark-nodding pines, and venerable shades—
Ye time-worn steeps of gray—ye hermit cells,
Where, queen of sylvan talk, sweet echo dwells,
Voiced daughter of the air—thou towering chain
Of everlasting hills, whose tops attain
The pendant cloud, and greet the morning beam—
Fountains! from whose redundant bosoms stream
The winding crystal brooks, and, as they take
Their course, to fancy's ear wild music make;
Ye oaks! briarean monarchs of the wood,
That unsubdued the elements have stood;
And still that seem indignant to defy
The accumulated forces of the sky:—
Abodes impervious to the day! Ye caves,
That murmur to the distant roar of waves,
When, by the winds upborne, old ocean pours
His beating surge along the far-off shores;
Ye rocks, colossal sentinels, whose forms
For ages have withstood the siege of storms;
Upon whose rough and adamantine peak,
The earth-disdaining eagle whets his beak,
Whence sightless soaring, ere the day's begun,
Leaves the dark vales below, and welcomes up the sun:
Ye consecrated haunts, long fondly woo'd
On your repose no stranger feet intrude;
Fled from the busy stirring city's hum,
To your recess a worshipper I come;
From a toss'd world, in thee a calm I find,
Benign content—the sabbath of the mind.
[OMITTED]
And thou, of these abodes, O genius blest,
To your domain receive your votary guest;
To you, amidst your sylvan lodge, and wild attire,
The muse devotes the meditative lyre.
Fill'd with thy presence, oft at twilight gray,
What time begin to droop the things of day,
When shadowy shapes, seen through the vapor dim,
To fancy's bodying eye take form and limb;
Along thy gloom's sequester'd paths I tread,
And hold communion with the illustrious dead;
Imagination then, with eye of light,
Imps her bold wing and meditates her flight;
To worlds unknown, from mortal bounds, she hies,
Spurns the dull earth, and claims her kindred skies.
What time begin to droop the things of day,
When shadowy shapes, seen through the vapor dim,
To fancy's bodying eye take form and limb;
Along thy gloom's sequester'd paths I tread,
368
Imagination then, with eye of light,
Imps her bold wing and meditates her flight;
To worlds unknown, from mortal bounds, she hies,
Spurns the dull earth, and claims her kindred skies.
There breathes a language in the trackless woods,
In voiceless glens, and mountain solitudes;
Amidst unpeopled rocks there lives for me
A something more than man's society;
I hear some call in every passing wind;
In every tree a monitor I find;
On every stone I trace a moral law,
And from each brook an admonition draw:—
Whate'er I note, or wheresoe'er I turn,
From such mysterious Providence I learn;
Above, around, beneath, impress'd I see
The apparent finger of the Deity:—
On every leaf, in each unfolding flower
I read the imaged evidence of—power.
Of power!—whose vital principle, from nought,
This fair creation into being brought;
Which will'd—and from oblivion rose the earth,
From chaos, form; from lifeless matter, birth;
Of power—the balanced worlds, on high, that hung,
At whose omnific word the daybeam sprung,
And all the morning stars together sung;
O'er all created things supreme that reigns,
Whose wisdom fashion'd, and whose might sustains.
[OMITTED]
The noon of midnight reigns—the solemn hour
O'er subject things the sovereignty of power
Exclusive holds;—above, around, beneath,
The all-pervading spirit seems to breathe
Of musing loneliness—the cloudless sky—
Earth's azure roof—a glorious canopy
Stretches from verge to verge—serenely fair
The stars look out through crystal fields of air,
And, as in concert there they shine, dispense,
To rapt devotion's eye, harmonious influence.
In voiceless glens, and mountain solitudes;
Amidst unpeopled rocks there lives for me
A something more than man's society;
I hear some call in every passing wind;
In every tree a monitor I find;
On every stone I trace a moral law,
And from each brook an admonition draw:—
Whate'er I note, or wheresoe'er I turn,
From such mysterious Providence I learn;
Above, around, beneath, impress'd I see
The apparent finger of the Deity:—
On every leaf, in each unfolding flower
I read the imaged evidence of—power.
Of power!—whose vital principle, from nought,
This fair creation into being brought;
Which will'd—and from oblivion rose the earth,
From chaos, form; from lifeless matter, birth;
Of power—the balanced worlds, on high, that hung,
At whose omnific word the daybeam sprung,
And all the morning stars together sung;
O'er all created things supreme that reigns,
Whose wisdom fashion'd, and whose might sustains.
[OMITTED]
The noon of midnight reigns—the solemn hour
O'er subject things the sovereignty of power
Exclusive holds;—above, around, beneath,
The all-pervading spirit seems to breathe
Of musing loneliness—the cloudless sky—
Earth's azure roof—a glorious canopy
Stretches from verge to verge—serenely fair
The stars look out through crystal fields of air,
And, as in concert there they shine, dispense,
To rapt devotion's eye, harmonious influence.
Welcome ye thickets! hail propitious shade!
Sacred to song—for contemplation made—
Your quietude I court—hence be from me
The crowded mart—the idle pageantry
Of fool'd ambition's pride—the cares, the strife,
Of cheated pleasure's superficial life:—
But mine, be mine, your hospitable wild—
Where halcyon peace, of heaven the favor'd child,
Delights to dwell—be mine your dwelling rude,
Bland nurse of thought—congenial Solitude.
Sacred to song—for contemplation made—
Your quietude I court—hence be from me
The crowded mart—the idle pageantry
Of fool'd ambition's pride—the cares, the strife,
Of cheated pleasure's superficial life:—
But mine, be mine, your hospitable wild—
369
Delights to dwell—be mine your dwelling rude,
Bland nurse of thought—congenial Solitude.
A VISION.
A deep sleep came, and on my senses fell:—In solitude, upon a rock, whose brow
Recumbent frown'd upon a mirror flood,
Methought I stood:—In emerald array,
A still immeasureable glassy tide
In gentle beauty slept—while day-light stain'd,
With parting hue, its bosom's quietude.—
The worn-out winds had long ago expired,
And with their lullaby, the weary waves
Had cradled to their rest:—The weeping heavens
Refreshing distillations shed, and hung
Their jewelry upon the rosy skirts
Of branch, and bank, and many an airy peak.
Powder'd with gems, the distant valley seem'd
With living constellations paved, and burnt
Like molten diamonds. Such landscape once,
The enraptured eye of Moses held enthrall'd,
When near the borders of the promised land,
From Pisgah's towering steep, the blissful shore
Of Canaan he beheld.—Before my dream,
A dismal, strange, and shadowy change now pass'd;
In blood-red garments veil'd, solemn and slow,
Climbing her height, uprose the dim, cold Moon;—
As up she bent her never-sounding march,
She seem'd to bode of skulls and sepulchres,
Of sights unholy, and forbidden things;—
Of death, and judgment, and the latter doom.—
As on her course she kept, she seem'd to shed
A mildew in the stagnant breeze.—A fog
Now from the unwholesome earth arose, and fill'd
With suffocating steams the burden'd air.—
A sudden spirit seem'd the winds to move:
The tide, which erst in waveless slumber lay,
In strange commotion groan'd and hiss'd, and shook
From the foundation of its boiling deep.
The dews in heavy drops fell fast, and turn'd
To clotted gore, mixing with blood, the marl;—
370
Of lamentations deep, and speechless wail;—
While, ever anon between, arose
Commingled sounds, as from unquiet souls,
Or unlaid spirits, issuing; strange and wild
The noises grew, and seem'd like funeral dirge
Of maniac harpers on the midnight wave;
Then ceased each sound, and all a while was hush'd,
Save the deep chiming of the distant knell
That heavily along the waters roll'd,
And from her den the hungry she-wolf woke,
Who with a famish'd howl re-echoed back
The solemn vesper bell:—Now suddenly
From trumpet's throat unseen, a stirring peal
The alarming summons rung, which on the ear
Of fix'd astonishment awoke a pang
Insufferably keen:—The forests bent
Their giant limbs, and shook their tenants forth;—
Whilst dove and vulture, in promiscuous fright,
With staggering wing confusedly outpour'd,
And dash'd them in the flood: fierce from her steep
On sinewy pinions borne, the Eagle rush'd,—
In noble wrath, she stretch'd her meteor flight
To untried regions, thence, to gaze upon
The idol of her scorching eye:—still up,
With glance electric, and with iron beak,
She bent her bosom 'gainst the thunder cloud;
Fearless the tempest in his fury met,
And scream'd her requiem to departed day.
The ancient column, and the battlement,
From their firm bases reeling, to the ground
In thundering ruin fell:—Convulsed, methought
I heard the world's expiring groan,—old earth
From her remotest recess, back return'd
The final cry, and render'd up herself.—
And now, emerging from their dreams profound
Awoke the relics, which, for ages had
In their dark chambers slept:—With hurried pace,
The sheeted figures, with inquietude
Hover'd about the confines of their home;—
Long, long, in darkness and oblivion quench'd,
Their eyes with marble stupefaction roll'd,
And glared in monumental mockery.
A blighting dew, cadaverous and chill,
Crept o'er my mouldering limbs:—I felt Decay
With rotten fingers touch my very heart!—
371
Too horrible for thought, unutterable,
Ghastly!—while on his carrion visage stood
The crusted mildew of the charnel-house;
And from his worm-gnawn body dropp'd away
The flesh, corruption long had fed upon:—
Fast to my breast the ugly spectre clung;—
Within my vitals fix'd his mouldy grasp,
And with abominable transport wood
My captive soul, that, struggling, tugg'd in vain,
To free the spirit from her dungeon clay.—
“Be mine!” exulting cried the fiend, “Be mine!”
While through the portals of my hearing, rung
The long and horrid laugh, the laugh of hell!—
An overwhelming flame before my eyes
With fury flash'd, that all around appear'd,
A wilderness of intermittent fires.—
A sudden, burning pang,—no more,—'t was gone.
Methought, to my astonish'd vision now,
Outnumbering cherubim and seraphim
Freckled with stars, their wings of light reveal'd,
And through the crystal chambers of the sky,
Celestial odors fann'd; while radiant hung
Their alabaster harps, self-tuned—methought
Intuitive the wires in concert play'd,
And to the winds in conscious numbers sung.—
At intervals responsive voices stole,
And breathed around such heavenly harmony,
That things inanimate became all ear;—
E'en death itself put old oblivion off,
And, reinstated, felt young life again.—
Such sights, for ever shut from mortal eyes,
Such sounds, prohibited the mortal ear,
I trembling woke; and, for a while, intent,
Listen'd, and look'd, and thought the Vision real.
THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.
Chill was the breeze,—nor yet the herald light
Had chased the lingering shadows of the night;
O'er still expanse of lake, and marshy bed,
Gloomy and dense the mantling vapors spread:—
But soon the battle-flash that darkness broke,
And soon, that dread repose, the peal awoke
Of loud artillery, and the dire alarms
Of mingling conflict, and the clash of arms.
Had chased the lingering shadows of the night;
O'er still expanse of lake, and marshy bed,
Gloomy and dense the mantling vapors spread:—
But soon the battle-flash that darkness broke,
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Of loud artillery, and the dire alarms
Of mingling conflict, and the clash of arms.
Fate gave the word!—and now, by veterans led,
In pride of chivalry, to conquest bred,
The foe advanced—entrenched, the champion band
Of Freemen stood, the bulwark of the land;
Fearless their stars unfurl'd, and, as the rock,
Storm-proof, they stood, impervious to the shock:
Their patriot Chief, with patriot ardor fired—
Nerved every hand, and every heart inspired;
Himself, in peril's trying hour, a host,
A nation's rescue, and a nation's boast;—
Empower'd alike to govern, or to save,
To guide a people, or their sword to wave.
In pride of chivalry, to conquest bred,
The foe advanced—entrenched, the champion band
Of Freemen stood, the bulwark of the land;
Fearless their stars unfurl'd, and, as the rock,
Storm-proof, they stood, impervious to the shock:
Their patriot Chief, with patriot ardor fired—
Nerved every hand, and every heart inspired;
Himself, in peril's trying hour, a host,
A nation's rescue, and a nation's boast;—
Empower'd alike to govern, or to save,
To guide a people, or their sword to wave.
As near the bastion'd wall th' Invader drew,
A storm of iron hail to greet him flew;
On havoc's wing the mission'd vengeance rode,
And whole platoons the scythe of ruin mow'd;
Through paths of blood, o'er undistinguish'd slain,
Unyoked, the hungry war-dogs scour'd the plain;
Borne on the blast, the scattering besom kept
Its course, and ranks on ranks promiscuous swept;—
The trophied Lion fell,—while o'er his foes
Unscathed, in arms supreme, the towering Eagle rose.—
A storm of iron hail to greet him flew;
On havoc's wing the mission'd vengeance rode,
And whole platoons the scythe of ruin mow'd;
Through paths of blood, o'er undistinguish'd slain,
Unyoked, the hungry war-dogs scour'd the plain;
Borne on the blast, the scattering besom kept
Its course, and ranks on ranks promiscuous swept;—
The trophied Lion fell,—while o'er his foes
Unscathed, in arms supreme, the towering Eagle rose.—
Sublime in majesty,—matchless in might—
Columbia stood, unshaken in the fight:
From lips of adamant, 'midst volumed smoke
And cataracts of fire, her thunders spoke
In triumph to the skies; from shore to shore,
Old Mississippi shook, and echoed to the roar.
Columbia stood, unshaken in the fight:
From lips of adamant, 'midst volumed smoke
And cataracts of fire, her thunders spoke
In triumph to the skies; from shore to shore,
Old Mississippi shook, and echoed to the roar.
High on his sceptred perch, our mountain bird,
Amidst the din the shout of Victory heard—
Exulting heard, and from his eyry came
Through rolling war-clouds, and through sheets of flame;
Renown's immortal meed he bore, and spread
His ample pinions o'er the conqueror's head—
The Hero of the West—to him assign'd
The glorious palm, and round his brows the guerdon twined.
Amidst the din the shout of Victory heard—
Exulting heard, and from his eyry came
Through rolling war-clouds, and through sheets of flame;
Renown's immortal meed he bore, and spread
His ample pinions o'er the conqueror's head—
The Hero of the West—to him assign'd
The glorious palm, and round his brows the guerdon twined.
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SONNET.
Ye clouds, that in your breasts the tempest bear,From whose dark folds the nimble lightnings leap;
Tell us, as through the vault of blue ye sweep,
Whence came ye, rolling in your strength, and where
Shadowing the heavens, do you now bend your course?
Shipwreck attends, dread messengers, your path—
The giant forests stoop before your wrath,
And Ocean bends his trident to your force:
Already now your winged bolts of fire
The skies inflame—your pealing thunders roll,
And seem the earth to shake, from pole to pole,
Whilst hail and whirlwind mingle with your ire?
Mortal!—seek not the Eternal to explore,—
We come his errands to fulfil—be silent and adore.
| Specimens of American poetry | |