 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
60
MAN'S LIFE.
He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; he fleeth like a shadow and continueth not.—
Job, 14: 2.
Job, 14: 2.
His birth is like the little star
That bursts through evening's shade alone,
Till thunder-clouds are seen afar.
And, passing, soon its beams are gone.
And when expiring twilight dies,
And other stars her beams accost,
She melts into the distant skies,
And evening weeps her Pleiade lost.
That bursts through evening's shade alone,
Till thunder-clouds are seen afar.
And, passing, soon its beams are gone.
And when expiring twilight dies,
And other stars her beams accost,
She melts into the distant skies,
And evening weeps her Pleiade lost.
His youth is like the little star
That ushers in the morning light;
But melts beneath the fiery car
That rolls upon her portals bright.
As over morning's radiant hues
A sickly grayish mist appears.
That ripens into falling dews,
And weeps itself away to tears.
That ushers in the morning light;
But melts beneath the fiery car
That rolls upon her portals bright.
As over morning's radiant hues
A sickly grayish mist appears.
That ripens into falling dews,
And weeps itself away to tears.
His youth is like the little isle
That bowed beneath her canopy,
As Venus caught her sunny smile,
When rising from the foaming sea.
And like that isle, which saw her glide,
The seasons waiting quick return—
His heart is washed by every tide,
And, ocean like, must ever mourn!
That bowed beneath her canopy,
As Venus caught her sunny smile,
When rising from the foaming sea.
And like that isle, which saw her glide,
The seasons waiting quick return—
His heart is washed by every tide,
And, ocean like, must ever mourn!
61
His youth is like the morning calm
That steals upon exulting day,
Whose wings are laden down with balm,
As tempests blow them all away.
And thus his manhood's little weal,
When passion's storms are gathering round,
Lies furled beneath the poisoned steel,
That kills before he feels the wound.
That steals upon exulting day,
Whose wings are laden down with balm,
As tempests blow them all away.
And thus his manhood's little weal,
When passion's storms are gathering round,
Lies furled beneath the poisoned steel,
That kills before he feels the wound.
His life is like the mountain stream
That wends along through hillocks steep,
That wider grows while others teem,
Till lost in ocean's briny deep.
And thus man's life renews—decays—
Through time's eventful changes free,
Though many shoals obstruct his ways,
And ends like rivers meet the sea.
That wends along through hillocks steep,
That wider grows while others teem,
Till lost in ocean's briny deep.
And thus man's life renews—decays—
Through time's eventful changes free,
Though many shoals obstruct his ways,
And ends like rivers meet the sea.
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |