The American common-place book of poetry with occasional notes |
 |
Versification of the Beginning of the Last Book of the Martyrs.—Alexander H. Everett.
|
 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
Versification of the Beginning of the Last Book of the Martyrs.—Alexander H. Everett.
Sweet muse, that on my venturous voyage smiled,
And kindly cheered the dangerous, doubtful way,
No more, with dreams of youth and hope beguiled,
I tempt thee from thy heavenly seats to stray.
Soon shall my lyre its feeble descant close,
And sad its parting strain—a funeral song;
Nor needs a Frenchman aid for themes like those;
Spontaneous rise the notes his lyre along,
And all he sings he feels, inured to grief and wrong.
And kindly cheered the dangerous, doubtful way,
No more, with dreams of youth and hope beguiled,
I tempt thee from thy heavenly seats to stray.
Soon shall my lyre its feeble descant close,
And sad its parting strain—a funeral song;
Nor needs a Frenchman aid for themes like those;
Spontaneous rise the notes his lyre along,
And all he sings he feels, inured to grief and wrong.
Friend of my youth, indulge this parting lay,
And then for age thy service I forego.
I leave the dreams that charmed my earlier day,
And all the heaven that youthful poets know;
For youth is fled; and thou mayst not remain,
To 'sort with furrowed brow and silver hairs;
Yet sure to lose thee gives me mickle pain;
Thy hand alone the balm of life prepares,
The only zest for joy, the only cure for cares.
And then for age thy service I forego.
315
And all the heaven that youthful poets know;
For youth is fled; and thou mayst not remain,
To 'sort with furrowed brow and silver hairs;
Yet sure to lose thee gives me mickle pain;
Thy hand alone the balm of life prepares,
The only zest for joy, the only cure for cares.
O, yes; perforce the parting tear will flow;—
So old a friend, that loved me yet a child,
Teaching my step the ocean path to know,
And my young voice to sing the tempest mild.
I wooed thee oft in western wood afar,
Where stranger foot had never trod before,
By twilight dim, or light of evening star,
Listening remote to Niagara's roar;
And Nature's self, and thou, didst inspiration pour.
So old a friend, that loved me yet a child,
Teaching my step the ocean path to know,
And my young voice to sing the tempest mild.
I wooed thee oft in western wood afar,
Where stranger foot had never trod before,
By twilight dim, or light of evening star,
Listening remote to Niagara's roar;
And Nature's self, and thou, didst inspiration pour.
Guide and companion of my wandering way,
What various lands our voyage since hath seen,
From plains where Tiber's glorious waters play,
To distant Morven's misty summits green.
How loath to leave the spot we lingered near,
Athena's walls and grove of Academe!
How, pilgrim like, we saw, with hallowed fear,
Afar the Holy City's turrets gleam,
And prayed on Zion's mount, and drank of Jordan's stream!
What various lands our voyage since hath seen,
From plains where Tiber's glorious waters play,
To distant Morven's misty summits green.
How loath to leave the spot we lingered near,
Athena's walls and grove of Academe!
How, pilgrim like, we saw, with hallowed fear,
Afar the Holy City's turrets gleam,
And prayed on Zion's mount, and drank of Jordan's stream!
Then fare thee well! but not with thee depart
The loftiness of soul that thou hast given;
Once to have known thee shall exalt my heart,
When thou, celestial guest, art fled to heaven.
Then what, though Time may wither Fancy's bloom,
And change her voice to dissonance uncouth?
Thy nobler gifts receive a nobler doom,
And live and flourish in eternal youth—
The firm, unbending mind, the consciousness of truth.
The loftiness of soul that thou hast given;
Once to have known thee shall exalt my heart,
When thou, celestial guest, art fled to heaven.
Then what, though Time may wither Fancy's bloom,
And change her voice to dissonance uncouth?
Thy nobler gifts receive a nobler doom,
And live and flourish in eternal youth—
The firm, unbending mind, the consciousness of truth.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |