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The lost pleiad ; and other poems

Chivers, T. H. (1809-1858)

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THE LOST PLEIAD:
 
TO MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN.
 
THE ORPHAN'S PRAYER.
 
THE WIFE'S LAMENT FOR HER HUSBAND LOST AT SEA.
 
TO ONE IN HEAVEN.
 
THE GEORGIAN CAPTIVE.
 
APOSTROPHE TO TIME.
 
CAROL.
 
TO ALLEGRA FLORENCE IN HEAVEN.
 
THE SOUL'S DESTINY.
 
SHELLEY.
 
TO MY FIRST-BORN IN HEAVEN.
 
ON THE DEATH OF MY FIRST-BORN.
 
LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
WASHINGTON.
 
THE HEAVENLY VISION.
 
TO SHAKSPEARE DYING.
 
MY SOUL'S JEWEL.
 
THE SALUTATION.
 
SONNET.—TO ISA SLEEPING.
 
SONNET.—THE HUSBAND'S REQUEST.
 
SONNET.—ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
THE POET'S LOVE OF FAME.
 
SONG TO ISA.
 
SPRING.
 
SONNET.—MY MOTHER'S LOVE.
 
SONNET.—DEATH.
 
THE PARTING APPEAL.
 
THE PIQUE.
 
AWAKE FROM THY SLUMBERS.
 
THE VOICE OF MY DELIGHT.
 
THE DYING POET.
 
SONG TO ISA IN HEAVEN.
 
SONNET.—MEMORY.
 
SONNET.—THE DYING HUSBAND TO HIS WIFE.
 
TO ALLEGRA FLORENCE.
 
THE VOICELESS EARTH.
 
SONNET.—ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
SONNET.—THE GRAVE.
 
THE CONFESSIONAL.
 
OH, BREAK THE HARP!
 
THE EVENING LAND.
 
ON HEARING VON WEBER'S LAST WALTZ.
 
THE MOTHER'S LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.
 
GOD DWELLS IN LIGHT.
 
ON HEARING A LADY SING.
 
TO MARION IN HEAVEN.
 
TO A LADY SINGING.
 
TO ISA.
 
THE SERENADER'S SONG.
 
ANACREONTIQUE.
 
TO ISA.
 
TO ISA.
 
TO JESSE.
 
SONG TO A FALSE ONE.
 
THE POETRY OF LOVE, JOY, AND GRIEF.
 
TO A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL.
 
FIRST LOVE.
 
SONG TO SPRING.
 
THE DEATH OF JEFFERSON.
 
THE INVOCATION.
 
A LONGING TO KNOW.
 
THE CHERISHED FLOWER.
 
TO ONE FAR AWAY.
 
THE SPIRIT'S YEARNINGS.

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14

THE WIFE'S LAMENT FOR HER HUSBAND LOST AT SEA.

“Stay for me there! I will not fail
To meet thee in that hollow vale!”—
Bishop Henry King, 1600.

“Thou wilt not be consoled—I wonder not.”—
Shelley.

I hear thy spirit calling unto me
From out the Deep,
Like lost Archytas from Venetia's Sea,
While I here weep!
Saying, Come, strew my body with the sand,
And bury me upon the land, the land!
Oh! never, never more! no, never more!
Lost in the Deep!
Will thy sweet beauty visit this dark shore,
While I here weep!
For thou art gone forever more from me,
Sweet Mariner! lost—murdered by the Sea!
Ever—forever more, bright, glorious One!
Drowned in the Deep!
In Spring-time—Summer—Winter—all alone—
Must I here weep!
Thou Spirit of my soul! thou light of life!
While thou art absent, Shelley! from thy wife!
Celestial pleasure once to contemplate
Thy power, great Deep!
Possessed my soul! but ever more shall hate,
While I here weep!
Crowd out thy memory from my soul, Oh! Sea!
For killing him who was so dear to me!
He was the incarnation of pure Truth,
Oh! mighty Deep!
And thou didst murder him in prime of youth,
For whom I weep!
And, murdering him, didst more than murder me,
Who was my Heaven on earth, Oh! treacherous Sea!
My spirit wearied not to succor his,
Oh! mighty Deep!
The oftener done, the greater was the bliss;
But now I weep!
And where his beauty lay, unceasing pain
Now dwells—my heart can know no joy again!
God of my fathers! God of that bright One
Lost in the Deep!
Shall we not meet again beyond the sun—
No more to weep?
Yes, I shall meet him there—the lost—the bright—
The glorious Shelley! spring of my delight!
Like Orion on some dark Autumnal night
Above the Deep;
I see his soul look down from Heaven—how bright!
While here I weep!
And there, like Hesperus the stars of even,
Beacon my soul away to him in Heaven!
Middletown, Conn., Feb. 17th, 1842.
 

“Horace represents the spirit of Archytas addressing itself, from the gulf of Venice, after he had been drowned, to a mariner, earnestly requesting him to strew light sand over his body, which lay unburied on the beach.”— Bouck's Beauties and Sublimities of Nature.

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