 | Poems |  |
208
THE BLIND MAN'S STORY.
How beautiful is yonder cot
With vine and jasmine twining fair!
Enamor'd of the lovely spot,
The western sun-beams linger there:
With vine and jasmine twining fair!
Enamor'd of the lovely spot,
The western sun-beams linger there:
They light the tall elms by its side,
The little garden blooming by;
The orchard spreading rich and wide,
And the slow streamlet rippling nigh.
The little garden blooming by;
The orchard spreading rich and wide,
And the slow streamlet rippling nigh.
209
Full in the beam fair children sport;
Yon fairer Woman spins the while,
Yet glances still towards the court,
And views them with a mother's smile.
Yon fairer Woman spins the while,
Yet glances still towards the court,
And views them with a mother's smile.
And here, reclin'd beneath the vine,
The Grand-sire lies, an aged man!
How bright on him the sun-beams shine!
And gild that cheek so mildly wan.
The Grand-sire lies, an aged man!
How bright on him the sun-beams shine!
And gild that cheek so mildly wan.
“O happy man! such scenes of peace
To share, to view, how blest is he!”
“Ah! Lady, bid thy day-dream cease,
That scene of bliss he cannot see;
To share, to view, how blest is he!”
“Ah! Lady, bid thy day-dream cease,
That scene of bliss he cannot see;
“He cannot share; for bliss from him,
With sight, with strength, with children fled;
His hearing fails, shakes every limb,
And all but memory is dead;
With sight, with strength, with children fled;
His hearing fails, shakes every limb,
And all but memory is dead;
210
“Approach! he loves the tale to tell
Of joys to him for ever lost;
On those so dearly lov'd to dwell,
And of his buried Lucy boast.”
Of joys to him for ever lost;
On those so dearly lov'd to dwell,
And of his buried Lucy boast.”
“O gentle Lady! would you know
Of happier days, of Lucy's fate;
List to a blind man's tale of woe,
And listening, ease his sorrow's weight.
Of happier days, of Lucy's fate;
List to a blind man's tale of woe,
And listening, ease his sorrow's weight.
There was no man in all the land,
More happy, or more gay than I;
I envied not the rich and grand,
More blest my proud security.
More happy, or more gay than I;
I envied not the rich and grand,
More blest my proud security.
I till'd the farm by yonder hill;
Oh it was lovely to the sight!
You cannot see, I see it still;—
It fell in that most dreadful night!
Oh it was lovely to the sight!
You cannot see, I see it still;—
It fell in that most dreadful night!
211
How happy was my peaceful cot!
My wife was blameless, frugal, mild;
Prosperous our calm and equal lot;
Thrice blest in our most gracious child.
My wife was blameless, frugal, mild;
Prosperous our calm and equal lot;
Thrice blest in our most gracious child.
One only child! she was most fair,
Most kind, most good, most dutiful;
The poor man blest her in his prayer,
The rich man call'd her beautiful:
Most kind, most good, most dutiful;
The poor man blest her in his prayer,
The rich man call'd her beautiful:
But wise as fair, my Lucy wed
Robert, a faithful village youth;
And three blest years too quickly fled,
In simple love, in spotless truth.
Robert, a faithful village youth;
And three blest years too quickly fled,
In simple love, in spotless truth.
A lovely boy at Lucy's breast
Still drew his balmy aliment,
Whilst Robert soothed his girl to rest,
Or on my knee the prattler leant.
Still drew his balmy aliment,
Whilst Robert soothed his girl to rest,
Or on my knee the prattler leant.
212
One summer night, the blood-red sky
Was ting'd with clouds like dusky smoke;
“See, Father, see, a tempest's nigh!”
I thought she trembled as she spoke.
Was ting'd with clouds like dusky smoke;
“See, Father, see, a tempest's nigh!”
I thought she trembled as she spoke.
Sound is the sleep that labor gains,
And tranquil is the matin waking;—
I woke that night with dreadful pains,
And saw the death-fraught flames wild breaking.
And tranquil is the matin waking;—
I woke that night with dreadful pains,
And saw the death-fraught flames wild breaking.
Above, below, around, I gaz'd,
Till my eyes ached to see the sight;
Barns, stables, house, together blaz'd,
There seem'd nor chance, nor hope of flight.
Till my eyes ached to see the sight;
Barns, stables, house, together blaz'd,
There seem'd nor chance, nor hope of flight.
One child, the girl, I toss'd below,
I strove to save Wife, Lucy, all:—
A beam fell in, I felt the blow;—
I may not that sad scene recall!
I strove to save Wife, Lucy, all:—
A beam fell in, I felt the blow;—
I may not that sad scene recall!
213
When life return'd, I sought in vain,
To know what ill had happen'd me;
A dreadful dream weigh'd on my brain,
A sense of unknown misery!
To know what ill had happen'd me;
A dreadful dream weigh'd on my brain,
A sense of unknown misery!
I mus'd when one low sound I heard,—
The sound delightful to mine ear!
“Father”—'twas Lucy spoke the word,
My heart seem'd lighten'd of its fear.
The sound delightful to mine ear!
“Father”—'twas Lucy spoke the word,
My heart seem'd lighten'd of its fear.
I turn'd,—O God! the sight I saw,
It chill'd my heart and froze my veins!
My child scorch'd, shrivell'd, mangled, raw;
O Beauty! such were thy remains!
It chill'd my heart and froze my veins!
My child scorch'd, shrivell'd, mangled, raw;
O Beauty! such were thy remains!
Her boy awaken'd from his rest,
And stretch'd his hands with baby moans,
And sought his mother's downy breast,—
Dear, wretched one! how deep her groans!
And stretch'd his hands with baby moans,
And sought his mother's downy breast,—
Dear, wretched one! how deep her groans!
214
I gaz'd and listen'd till she died;
Then came the dreadful pause of grief;
Then came despair:—till frenzy's tide
O'erwhelming all, lent sad relief.
Then came the dreadful pause of grief;
Then came despair:—till frenzy's tide
O'erwhelming all, lent sad relief.
I wander'd long, I know not where,
By whom attir'd, or lodg'd, or fed;
Harmless was I, my only care
To seek my Lucy's earthy bed.
By whom attir'd, or lodg'd, or fed;
Harmless was I, my only care
To seek my Lucy's earthy bed.
At length I woke to sense and woe;
Sight, happiness, and Lucy, gone!
That night laid all my treasures low,
Of all I lov'd, remain'd but one:
Sight, happiness, and Lucy, gone!
That night laid all my treasures low,
Of all I lov'd, remain'd but one:
'Twas Lucy's child! you see her there,
Yon happy mother at her wheel!
They say, she too is passing fair,—
That she is passing good I feel.
Yon happy mother at her wheel!
They say, she too is passing fair,—
That she is passing good I feel.
215
If ever sound of comfort rings
Upon mine ear, and cries, rejoice!
'Tis when my gentle grandchild sings
My Lucy's songs, with Lucy's voice.
Upon mine ear, and cries, rejoice!
'Tis when my gentle grandchild sings
My Lucy's songs, with Lucy's voice.
I cannot bear to hear the storm
Of summer, howling o'er the sky;
It shakes with frenzied grief my form;
Again I see the dear one die!
Of summer, howling o'er the sky;
It shakes with frenzied grief my form;
Again I see the dear one die!
I cannot bear the woodfire's glow,
Or list the crackling faggot blaze:—
But I forget awhile my woe,
Whilst basking in the sun's warm rays.
Or list the crackling faggot blaze:—
But I forget awhile my woe,
Whilst basking in the sun's warm rays.
Yet those warm rays are flying fast,
My gentle guests would leave the vale;
Should misery's clouds your sun o'ercast,
Oh think upon the Blind Man's Tale!
My gentle guests would leave the vale;
Should misery's clouds your sun o'ercast,
Oh think upon the Blind Man's Tale!
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