 | Specimens of American poetry |  |
SELLECK OSBORN.
147
THE RUINS.
I've seen, in twilight's pensive hour,
The moss-clad dome, the mouldering tower,
In awful ruin stand;
That dome, where grateful voices sung,
That tower, whose chiming music rung,
Majestically grand!
The moss-clad dome, the mouldering tower,
In awful ruin stand;
That dome, where grateful voices sung,
That tower, whose chiming music rung,
Majestically grand!
I 've seen, 'mid sculptured pride, the tomb
Where heroes slept, in silent gloom,
Unconscious of their fame;
Those who, with laurel'd honors crown'd,
Among their foes spread terror round,
And gain'd—an empty name!
Where heroes slept, in silent gloom,
Unconscious of their fame;
Those who, with laurel'd honors crown'd,
Among their foes spread terror round,
And gain'd—an empty name!
I 've seen, in death's dark palace laid,
The ruins of a beauteous maid,
Cadaverous and pale!
That maiden who, while life remain'd,
O'er rival charms in triumph reign'd,
The mistress of the vale.
The ruins of a beauteous maid,
Cadaverous and pale!
That maiden who, while life remain'd,
O'er rival charms in triumph reign'd,
The mistress of the vale.
I 've seen, where dungeon damps abide,
A youth, admired in manhood's pride,
In morbid fancy rave;
He who, in reason's happier day,
Was virtuous, witty, nobly gay,
Learn'd, generous and brave.
A youth, admired in manhood's pride,
In morbid fancy rave;
He who, in reason's happier day,
Was virtuous, witty, nobly gay,
Learn'd, generous and brave.
Nor dome, nor tower, in twilight shade,
Nor hero fallen, nor beauteous maid,
To ruin all consign'd—
Can with such pathos touch my breast
As (on the maniac's form impress'd)
The ruins of the mind!
Nor hero fallen, nor beauteous maid,
To ruin all consign'd—
Can with such pathos touch my breast
As (on the maniac's form impress'd)
The ruins of the mind!
THE QUARRELS OF LOVE.
Mark ye that cloud, whose sudden shade
Succeeds the recent smile of morn;
Such was the frown of my dear maid
Whose early love was turn'd to scorn!
Succeeds the recent smile of morn;
Such was the frown of my dear maid
Whose early love was turn'd to scorn!
148
Oh, how that frown did chill my heart,
And quench my too presumptuous flame!
Of my regret how keen the smart!
How glow'd my burning cheek with shame!
And quench my too presumptuous flame!
Of my regret how keen the smart!
How glow'd my burning cheek with shame!
How could I, with unhallow'd lip,
That bosom's purity profane?
Or dare ambrosial sweets to sip,
For which e'en love had sued in vain?
That bosom's purity profane?
Or dare ambrosial sweets to sip,
For which e'en love had sued in vain?
Mark how that cloud, in drops of pearl,
Dissolves, as sunshine breaks the while:
So wept my kind, relenting girl,
When penitence regain'd her smile.
Dissolves, as sunshine breaks the while:
So wept my kind, relenting girl,
When penitence regain'd her smile.
Mark, how that mild, cerulean hue,
Expands, amidst retiring shade;
'T was thus her eye, of heavenly blue,
All her returning love betray'd.
Expands, amidst retiring shade;
'T was thus her eye, of heavenly blue,
All her returning love betray'd.
Mark too, that bow, of splendid light,
That bends o'er earth its graceful form,
That shines so cheering to the sight,
When bursting sunbeams chase the storm:
That bends o'er earth its graceful form,
That shines so cheering to the sight,
When bursting sunbeams chase the storm:
As glows that signal, from above,
Of promised peace 'tween man and heaven,
So glow'd the blush of yielding love,
While gently murm'ring, “thou 'rt forgiven.
Of promised peace 'tween man and heaven,
So glow'd the blush of yielding love,
While gently murm'ring, “thou 'rt forgiven.
THE SAILOR.
“The wary sea-bird screams afar—
Along the wave dire omens sweep—
From the veil'd sky no friendly star
Beams on the undulating deep.
Along the wave dire omens sweep—
From the veil'd sky no friendly star
Beams on the undulating deep.
Hark! from the cliffs of distant shores,
The Lom emits his dismal cry—
The wave portentous warning roars,
And speaks the threatening tempest nigh.
The Lom emits his dismal cry—
The wave portentous warning roars,
And speaks the threatening tempest nigh.
149
What guardian angel's watchful power
Shall snatch me from the angry deep,
Or bid, in that tremendous hour,
The demon of the waters sleep?
Shall snatch me from the angry deep,
Or bid, in that tremendous hour,
The demon of the waters sleep?
Or who, if on some desert wild
I drift, weak, famished and distrest,
Shall hush the sorrows of my child,
Or soothe Lavinia's wounded breast?
I drift, weak, famished and distrest,
Shall hush the sorrows of my child,
Or soothe Lavinia's wounded breast?
Sweet objects of my early love,
For you with aching heart I mourn;
Far from your peaceful vale I rove,
Ah! hopeless ever to return!
For you with aching heart I mourn;
Far from your peaceful vale I rove,
Ah! hopeless ever to return!
Yet, should it be my happy lot
To hail again my native shore,
Secure within my humble cot,
I'll brave the restless deep no more.”
To hail again my native shore,
Secure within my humble cot,
I'll brave the restless deep no more.”
His prayer was heard—the rolling bark
Rode through the storm with stubborn pride;
And William, blithe as morning lark,
Flew to his sweet enraptured bride.
Rode through the storm with stubborn pride;
And William, blithe as morning lark,
Flew to his sweet enraptured bride.
Yet Will, with love and liquor warm,
Ere yet a month had pass'd in glee,
Forgot the terrors of the storm,
And, singing, squared away for sea!
Ere yet a month had pass'd in glee,
Forgot the terrors of the storm,
And, singing, squared away for sea!
| Specimens of American poetry | |