The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir :: :: University of Virginia Library

On this grey column—overthrown
By giant Time's unsparing hand,
Where lichens spring and moss is strown
Along the desert land—
Resting alone, I fix mine eye,
With feelings of sublime delight,
On June's resplendent galaxy,
The studded arch of night.
How awful is the might of Him
Who stretch'd the skies from pole to pole!
And breathed, through chaos waste and dim,
Creation's living soul!
A thousand worlds are glowing round,
And thousands more than sight can trace
Revolve throughout the vast profound,
And fill the realms of space:
Then what is man? It ill befits
That such should hear or heed the prayer—
Lip-mockery of the worm that sits
Within the scorner's chair!

106

II

There are no clouds to checker night;
The winds are hush'd, the skies serene;
The landscape, outlined darkly bright,
Is still distinctly seen:
Remotest Ocean's tongue is heard
Declaiming to his island shores;
And wails the lonely water-bird
From yonder marshy moors.
This is the realm of solitude;
A season and a scene for thought,
When Melancholy well may brood
On years, that now are not—
On syren years, whose witchery smiled,
Ere time had leagued the heart with strife—
The Eden of this earthly wild—
The paradise of life.
They feign, who tell us wealth can strike
In to the thornless paths of bliss;
Alas! its best is, Judas-like,
To sell us with a kiss.

III

Ambition is a gilded toy,
A baited hook, a trap of guile;
Alluring only to destroy,
And mocking with a smile.
Alas! for what hath youth exchanged
The garden of its vernal prime?

107

Is Care—Sin—Sorrow—more estranged,
More gently lenient Time?
Doth Friendship quaff from bowl more deep?
Bathes Hope in more delightful streams?
Comes Love to charm the pillow'd sleep
With brighter, holier dreams?
Ah, no! the ship of life is steer'd
More boldly to the central main,
Only to cope with tempests fear'd,
Lightning, and wind, and rain!
Around lurks shipwreck; hidden rocks
Beneath the billows darkling lie;
Death threatens in the breaker's shocks
And thunder-cloven sky!

IV

Hearken to Truth! Though joys remain,
And friends unchanged and faithful prove,
The heart can never love again
As when it learn'd to love:
Oh! ne'er shall manhood's bosom feel
The raptures boyhood felt of yore;
Nor fancy lend, nor life reveal
Such faëry landscapes more!
Above the head when tempests break,
When cares flit round on ebon wing,
When Hope o'er being's troubled lake
No sunny gleam can fling;
When Love's clear flame no longer burns,

108

And Griefs distract, and Fears annoy,
Then Retrospection fondly turns
To long-departed joy—
The visions brought by sleep, the dreams
By scarce-awaken'd daylight brought,
And reveries by sylvan streams,
And mountains far remote.

V

Elysium's hues have fled: the joy
Of youth departs on seraph wing;
Soon breezes from the Pole destroy
The opening blooms of Spring!
We gaze around us; earth seems bright
With flowers and fruit, the skies are blue;
The bosom flutters with delight,
And deems the pageant true:—
Then lo! a tempest darkles o'er
The summer plain and waveless sea;
Lash the hoarse billows on the shore;
Fall blossoms from the tree;
Star after star is quench'd; the night
Of blackness gathers round in strife;
And storms howl o'er a scene of blight;—
Can such be human life?
Expanding beauties charm the heart,
The garden of our life is fair;
But in a few short years we start,
To find a desert there!

109

VI

Stars! far above that twinkling roll—
Stars! so resplendent, yet serene—
Ye look (ah! how unlike the soul)
As ye have ever been:
In you 'tis sweet to read at eve
The themes of youth's departed day,
Call up the past, and fondly grieve
O'er what hath waned away—
The faces that we see no more;
The friends whom Fate hath doom'd to roam;
Or silence, through Death's iron door,
Call'd to his cheerless home!
O! that the heart again were young;
O! that the feelings were as kind,
Artless and innocent; the tongue
The oracle of mind:
O! that the sleep of Night were sweet,
Gentle as childhood's sleep hath been,
When angels, as from Jacob's feet,
Soar'd earth and Heaven between.

VII

What once hath been no more can be—
'Tis void, 'tis visionary all;
The past hath joined eternity—
It comes not at the call.
No! worldly thoughts and selfish ways
Have banish'd Truth, to rule instead;

110

We, dazzled by a meteor-blaze,
Have run where Folly led;
Yet happiness was found not there—
The spring-bloom of the heart was shed;
We turn'd from Nature's face, though fair,
To muse upon the dead!
As dewdrops from the sparry cave
Trickling, new properties impart,
A tendency Life's dealings have
To petrify the heart.
There is an ecstasy in thought,
A soothing warmth, a pleasing pain;
Away! such dreams were best forgot—
They shall not rise again!