 | Poems (1857) |  |
1
POEMS.
THE WORD OF GOD.
The word of God appeareth everywhere:
Tis written on the bosom of the sea;
The waves, that lift their mighty heads, declare
That One hath bid them roll eternally.
Tis written on the bosom of the sea;
The waves, that lift their mighty heads, declare
That One hath bid them roll eternally.
The skies through all their wide circumference
Deep spangled with His golden letters shine,
Telling that worlds, cast through the void immense,
Unshaken hold their course by law divine.
Deep spangled with His golden letters shine,
Telling that worlds, cast through the void immense,
Unshaken hold their course by law divine.
And man hath heard His voice. It spake aloud
In ages past mid Eden's peaceful bowers;
It spake in flaming bush and thundercloud,
By Jordan's fruitful vale, and Salem's towers.
In ages past mid Eden's peaceful bowers;
It spake in flaming bush and thundercloud,
By Jordan's fruitful vale, and Salem's towers.
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To all mankind He sent His Messenger,
Who with mild warning speech proclaim'd their doom,
Whose spirit-waking echoes they shall hear,
Till the last voice shall call them from the tomb.
Who with mild warning speech proclaim'd their doom,
Whose spirit-waking echoes they shall hear,
Till the last voice shall call them from the tomb.
3
THE WORLD.
The world was made; the news in heaven was told,
And heavenly halls of light and joy were full;
Through the vast empyrean thunders roll'd,
And angels sang, and call'd it wonderful.
And heavenly halls of light and joy were full;
Through the vast empyrean thunders roll'd,
And angels sang, and call'd it wonderful.
Again the voice of God was heard! and then
The myriad planets into motion sprang;
The sudden sphere-whirl mock'd the angels' ken;
Louder and louder hallelujahs rang.
The myriad planets into motion sprang;
The sudden sphere-whirl mock'd the angels' ken;
Louder and louder hallelujahs rang.
Yet for a moment all confusion seem'd,
A rush of worlds in endless space to fly,
A flash of fires, that through the darkness gleam'd
And hurried on in other tracks to die:
A rush of worlds in endless space to fly,
A flash of fires, that through the darkness gleam'd
And hurried on in other tracks to die:
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But see! the planets from their headlong flight
Declining swift, in stately orbit go;
The fires upon their track with steady light
The same and still the same for ever glow.
Declining swift, in stately orbit go;
The fires upon their track with steady light
The same and still the same for ever glow.
Maze within maze, but round one centre all,
In mystic dance their mighty orbs they swing;
Blent in one choral hymn majestical
Their voices through the depths of silence ring.
In mystic dance their mighty orbs they swing;
Blent in one choral hymn majestical
Their voices through the depths of silence ring.
Eternal God! Creator! Thee they praise;
They feel thy stirring power, thy doom fulfil;
The universe thy light, thy law displays,
The harmony of thine almighty will.
They feel thy stirring power, thy doom fulfil;
The universe thy light, thy law displays,
The harmony of thine almighty will.
5
THE POET'S DREAM.
I.
Is poesy then all a dream?
It is perchance; yet doth it seem
So much unlike a dream of earth,
Some higher sphere did give it birth.
It is perchance; yet doth it seem
So much unlike a dream of earth,
Some higher sphere did give it birth.
It is no vision of the night:
It is a thing all clear and bright;
Fair as the summer's orient hue,
Refreshing as the morning dew.
It is a thing all clear and bright;
Fair as the summer's orient hue,
Refreshing as the morning dew.
It doth not vanish from the sight,
But sprung from heaven's eternal light,
E'en thro' this misty mortal haze
Tis clearer seen, the more we gaze;
But sprung from heaven's eternal light,
E'en thro' this misty mortal haze
Tis clearer seen, the more we gaze;
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And ever opening further view,
Gives strength for contemplation new;
For though our vision limits bound,
Yet limit none hath yet been found.
Gives strength for contemplation new;
For though our vision limits bound,
Yet limit none hath yet been found.
II.
And who shall call it vanity
To see what others cannot see?
The blind, to whom the world is nought,
Beyond their narrow range of thought.
To see what others cannot see?
The blind, to whom the world is nought,
Beyond their narrow range of thought.
The mole constructs his earthen cell,
And deems it a vast citadel;
And little thinks the eagle's eye
Is piercing through the mid-day sky.
And deems it a vast citadel;
And little thinks the eagle's eye
Is piercing through the mid-day sky.
The silver moon is bright above,
The starlit heaven all beams with love,
And countless worlds are rolling there;
Yet little doth the peasant care:
The starlit heaven all beams with love,
And countless worlds are rolling there;
Yet little doth the peasant care:
Home speeding, singing his blithe strain,
Nor moonlight him nor stars detain;
The moonbeam guides him to his cot,
Yet otherwise he feels it not.
Nor moonlight him nor stars detain;
The moonbeam guides him to his cot,
Yet otherwise he feels it not.
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The boatman sees the tide go past;
Each following wave is like the last:
What wonder is there in that sea,
With all its dull monotony?
Each following wave is like the last:
What wonder is there in that sea,
With all its dull monotony?
None he perceives. But I can feel
Its music o'er me gently steal;
And every passing wave to me
Is full of new variety.
Its music o'er me gently steal;
And every passing wave to me
Is full of new variety.
III.
The turtle labours for her brood,
She watches long, she gathers food,
She warms them with her downy breast,
She spreads her wing to guard their rest;
She watches long, she gathers food,
She warms them with her downy breast,
She spreads her wing to guard their rest;
And still she hovers round, as fear
None there could be, while she was near:
O fond maternal love! I bless
Thy self-devoting tenderness!
None there could be, while she was near:
O fond maternal love! I bless
Thy self-devoting tenderness!
Yet are there, who unmoved and cold
That busy toil of love behold:
Vers'd in the schoolman's wordy lore,
They call it instinct; think no more.
That busy toil of love behold:
Vers'd in the schoolman's wordy lore,
They call it instinct; think no more.
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And such are they, that hearts employ
All things to learn, and none enjoy.
Dearer the poet's dream to me,
Than all their vain philosophy.
All things to learn, and none enjoy.
Dearer the poet's dream to me,
Than all their vain philosophy.
IV.
I love the daisy of the mead;
I love the snowdrop's modest head,
The graceful-curling gay woodbine,
The coy primrose, the eglantine.
I love the snowdrop's modest head,
The graceful-curling gay woodbine,
The coy primrose, the eglantine.
Thou rosy woodland eglantine!
Thy petals are so soft and fine;
Within thy cup all fresh with dew
Blushes, and smiles, and tears I view:
Thy petals are so soft and fine;
Within thy cup all fresh with dew
Blushes, and smiles, and tears I view:
Thou lightest all the bramble rude,
Thou bloomest in the solitude,
Teaching that e'en the thorny shade
Was for delight and beauty made;
Thou bloomest in the solitude,
Teaching that e'en the thorny shade
Was for delight and beauty made;
That blest is he, whose rugged path
The cheer of mild contentment hath;
That human life, though for an hour,
May joyful be as thine, sweet flower!
The cheer of mild contentment hath;
That human life, though for an hour,
May joyful be as thine, sweet flower!
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Yea, I should deem mine own heart dull,
Did I not think thee wonderful:
Yet thousands pass thee by, and see
Nought but a poor wild flower in thee.
Did I not think thee wonderful:
Yet thousands pass thee by, and see
Nought but a poor wild flower in thee.
V.
Nothing in Nature is so small,
But yet is great, as part of all;
And e'en the great is small to those
To whom her all great Nature shows.
But yet is great, as part of all;
And e'en the great is small to those
To whom her all great Nature shows.
Yet man, with empty swelling hope,
Before himself the microscope
Will place, and let all things beside
In pigmy shape before him glide:
Before himself the microscope
Will place, and let all things beside
In pigmy shape before him glide:
Close wrapt within his narrow self,
And crawling after earthly pelf,
He grasps the dust, calls that his own,
Wealth, life, enjoyment, that alone.
And crawling after earthly pelf,
He grasps the dust, calls that his own,
Wealth, life, enjoyment, that alone.
The poet leaves himself, his soul
Expanding to survey the whole;
To him appears this little I
A speck in vast infinity,
Expanding to survey the whole;
To him appears this little I
A speck in vast infinity,
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Cling, worldling, cling to thy vile dust!
Mingle with it full soon thou must.
Dearer the poet's dream to me
Than all thy dull reality.
Mingle with it full soon thou must.
Dearer the poet's dream to me
Than all thy dull reality.
VI.
Yet pause awhile. Is real all,
Which thou hast chosen so to call?
Knowest thou Nature? Is there aught
Of which thou hast true likeness caught?
Which thou hast chosen so to call?
Knowest thou Nature? Is there aught
Of which thou hast true likeness caught?
Canst thou to her thyself conform,
Her laws obey, her will perform?
Tis vain that she dispenses good,
Unless by thee tis understood.
Her laws obey, her will perform?
Tis vain that she dispenses good,
Unless by thee tis understood.
With smiling brow, with hand profuse
She scatters plenty for thy use;
And thee she bids the essence cull
Of all the sweet and beautiful.
She scatters plenty for thy use;
And thee she bids the essence cull
Of all the sweet and beautiful.
The flower, the fruit, all are for thee,
If thou wert like the honey-bee,
Tasteful and wise: but oh, beware!
The fruit has gall, the flower a snare.
If thou wert like the honey-bee,
Tasteful and wise: but oh, beware!
The fruit has gall, the flower a snare.
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What hast thou done? Hast aught in store
Against life's stormy winter hour?
Or wastest thou the season's prime,
Borne thoughtless down the stream of time?
Against life's stormy winter hour?
Or wastest thou the season's prime,
Borne thoughtless down the stream of time?
What do thy pleasures yield? To-day
With golden promise bright are they:
But ere the morrow's dawn hath shone,
Like wither'd blossoms, they are gone.
With golden promise bright are they:
But ere the morrow's dawn hath shone,
Like wither'd blossoms, they are gone.
VII.
A carved monumental stone
To passing strangers maketh known,
That in yon grave doth one abide,
Who pious lived, lamented died:
To passing strangers maketh known,
That in yon grave doth one abide,
Who pious lived, lamented died:
Tis false! His truth, his faith he sold,
His peace, his slumber, all for gold:
He walk'd with purpose dark and blind;
He shut his heart 'gainst all mankind:
His peace, his slumber, all for gold:
He walk'd with purpose dark and blind;
He shut his heart 'gainst all mankind:
He sought to frame 'gainst earthly want
A shield more strong than adamant;
In vain! for he was ever poor,
Ever in want, and craving more.
A shield more strong than adamant;
In vain! for he was ever poor,
Ever in want, and craving more.
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He would not drink from Nature's well,
Yet burn'd with thirst unquenchable;
His heart was arid as the sand
That gleams on Libya's desert-strand.
Yet burn'd with thirst unquenchable;
His heart was arid as the sand
That gleams on Libya's desert-strand.
He died, and none lamented him:
While many a scowl of pleasure grim
Told that the very slaves he fed
Rejoiced to see their tyrant dead.
While many a scowl of pleasure grim
Told that the very slaves he fed
Rejoiced to see their tyrant dead.
Did he then aught of real gain
With all his care, his toil, his pain?
No! in a dream his life he spent,
To gain that worthless monument.
With all his care, his toil, his pain?
No! in a dream his life he spent,
To gain that worthless monument.
VIII.
Nor wiser, who devote to sense
The life-sustaining elements,
The precious seed of heavenly flame
That animates this mortal frame.
The life-sustaining elements,
The precious seed of heavenly flame
That animates this mortal frame.
They dream; they walk in sleep secure,
Led on by pleasure's phantom-lure,
Till the Creator's noblest boon
They lose in deep oblivion.
Led on by pleasure's phantom-lure,
Till the Creator's noblest boon
They lose in deep oblivion.
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Press from the grape the blushing wine!
Tis full of sunny juice divine!
See, see! those bubbling streams invite
To bathe the soul in soft delight!
Tis full of sunny juice divine!
See, see! those bubbling streams invite
To bathe the soul in soft delight!
Hold! there is poison in the cup!
The madman breathless drinks it up;
With riot laughter swells his eye,
And rolls and swims in ecstacy:
The madman breathless drinks it up;
With riot laughter swells his eye,
And rolls and swims in ecstacy:
Aerial shapes before him stand,
They seem to move at his command;
Yes; imps of hell! they dance for glee,
To see that frantic revelry!
They seem to move at his command;
Yes; imps of hell! they dance for glee,
To see that frantic revelry!
Soon prostrate on the ground will lie,
Who now is soaring to the sky:
From earth, not heaven, those raptures come:
'Tis nothing but delirium!
Who now is soaring to the sky:
From earth, not heaven, those raptures come:
'Tis nothing but delirium!
IX.
And thou, who feel'st the subtle charm,
The tender thrill, the soft alarm,
And all that fancy e'er combined
To make the love of womankind;
The tender thrill, the soft alarm,
And all that fancy e'er combined
To make the love of womankind;
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Oh, whence those trembling fond desires?
It is a Goddess them inspires!
There is such meaning in that face;
Her every motion full of grace;
It is a Goddess them inspires!
There is such meaning in that face;
Her every motion full of grace;
And in her form such majesty,
And in her look such witchery!
It were a taste for Gods to sip
The bloom from off that rosy lip!
And in her look such witchery!
It were a taste for Gods to sip
The bloom from off that rosy lip!
Thou hang'st upon her siren-tongue;
Its note is soft as fairy-song,
More sweet than murmur in the glade
By gently-falling waters made.
Its note is soft as fairy-song,
More sweet than murmur in the glade
By gently-falling waters made.
A few brief years, and where will be
That look, that grace, and majesty?
Parched will that lip and pale have grown;
Tuneless and harsh that silver-tone:
That look, that grace, and majesty?
Parched will that lip and pale have grown;
Tuneless and harsh that silver-tone:
And thou, whose breast so warm doth glow,
Whose spirits now so quickly flow,
Too late, when all is changed, wilt see
Thy love was not divinity.
Whose spirits now so quickly flow,
Too late, when all is changed, wilt see
Thy love was not divinity.
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Thou art deceiv'd! From flesh that heat;
Tis blood that makes thy bosom beat;
Base earthly passions in thee stir:
Awake, thou idol-worshipper!
Tis blood that makes thy bosom beat;
Base earthly passions in thee stir:
Awake, thou idol-worshipper!
X.
And what is fame? A thing of air,
Sought far and wide, and found nowhere;
More flitting than a shade. Who knows
From whence it came, or whither goes?
Sought far and wide, and found nowhere;
More flitting than a shade. Who knows
From whence it came, or whither goes?
The statesman plans; he giveth laws;
While listening senates peal applause;
The people bless their happy lot,
And shout, and hail him patriot;
While listening senates peal applause;
The people bless their happy lot,
And shout, and hail him patriot;
Their gratulations echoing pour,
Like ocean waves from shore to shore;
Then silence; and those echoes die,
Like a forgotten melody.
Like ocean waves from shore to shore;
Then silence; and those echoes die,
Like a forgotten melody.
Soon other sounds are on the gale;
They tell a new, a different tale;
The people mourn; and he the cause;
They curse the man, revile his laws:
They tell a new, a different tale;
The people mourn; and he the cause;
They curse the man, revile his laws:
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The storm frowns, gathers, bursts at length;
Yet courage! he hath inward strength
To bear him up! Ah, no! he shrinks
Before the cruel blow; he sinks,
Yet courage! he hath inward strength
To bear him up! Ah, no! he shrinks
Before the cruel blow; he sinks,
Hopeless, heart-smitten; as an oak,
When riven by the lightning-stroke,
Sapless and bare and honour-shorn,
Stands on the blasted heath forlorn.
When riven by the lightning-stroke,
Sapless and bare and honour-shorn,
Stands on the blasted heath forlorn.
XI.
The victor's praise loud clarions tell,
While nations ring the funeral knell.
O madness! One there lived, whose breath
Was victory, whose frown was death:
While nations ring the funeral knell.
O madness! One there lived, whose breath
Was victory, whose frown was death:
He seem'd on earth a demigod;
On throne and altar fierce he trod;
He moved and found no resting-place;
Shook the broad hills his thunderpace:
On throne and altar fierce he trod;
He moved and found no resting-place;
Shook the broad hills his thunderpace:
His trumpet loud and shrill he blew,
And thousand thousands round him flew,
O'er valley strode, o'er mountains clomb,
Travers'd the waste, and found a tomb.
And thousand thousands round him flew,
O'er valley strode, o'er mountains clomb,
Travers'd the waste, and found a tomb.
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He march'd to Winter's icy field,
And sternly bade the monarch yield;
But Winter call'd her vassals round,
They, at the word, in arms were found:
And sternly bade the monarch yield;
But Winter call'd her vassals round,
They, at the word, in arms were found:
She came, and blew so wild a blast,
Shriek'd vale and mountain, as she pass'd;
She came, and in her chariot-train
Famine and frost and hurricane:
Shriek'd vale and mountain, as she pass'd;
She came, and in her chariot-train
Famine and frost and hurricane:
Where be those warmen? On their host
The snow in stormy waves hath tost,
Frozen the blood within their veins,
Their bones lie scatter'd on the plains.
The snow in stormy waves hath tost,
Frozen the blood within their veins,
Their bones lie scatter'd on the plains.
Twas not for this the gallant band
Left their sweet home, their native land:
Some other hope before them shone:
Yea; 'twas a dream that led them on!
Left their sweet home, their native land:
Some other hope before them shone:
Yea; 'twas a dream that led them on!
And dreamt not he, that soul of pride,
Who scorn'd the earth and heaven defied?
I wis not what his visions were;
But his awaking was despair;
Who scorn'd the earth and heaven defied?
I wis not what his visions were;
But his awaking was despair;
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XII.
The poet's aim is pure and high;
The poet's love can never die:
He pants for gales that ever blow,
He thirsts for streams that ever flow:
The poet's love can never die:
He pants for gales that ever blow,
He thirsts for streams that ever flow:
He asks for much, and much receives,
And hoping much, he much believes;
And while to heaven he looks for bliss,
To man a friend, a brother is.
And hoping much, he much believes;
And while to heaven he looks for bliss,
To man a friend, a brother is.
His eye is soft as the moonray,
Yet dazzling as the orb of day,
Light as the silver-shining rill,
Yet as the ocean, deep and still.
Yet dazzling as the orb of day,
Light as the silver-shining rill,
Yet as the ocean, deep and still.
Now loves he in the shade to lie,
Now sparkles like the butterfly,
Now like a swallow skims the stream,
Now basks him in the sunny beam.
Now sparkles like the butterfly,
Now like a swallow skims the stream,
Now basks him in the sunny beam.
He softly breathes on Nature's lute;
To hear his lay, the winds are mute,
And air and heaven and earth and sea
Swell with deep love and sympathy.
To hear his lay, the winds are mute,
And air and heaven and earth and sea
Swell with deep love and sympathy.
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He soars where never bird hath flown,
O'er regions vast, to man unknown;
He comes, and tells where he hath been,
He comes, and tells what he hath seen;
O'er regions vast, to man unknown;
He comes, and tells where he hath been,
He comes, and tells what he hath seen;
And few believe; yet still he sings
Of his unearthly wanderings:
With sacred fire his breast doth glow,
Unfading wreaths adorn his brow.
Of his unearthly wanderings:
With sacred fire his breast doth glow,
Unfading wreaths adorn his brow.
In great and small his heart hath place,
Of love divine he finds the trace,
In woman more than beauty sees,
In life unnumber'd mysteries:
Of love divine he finds the trace,
In woman more than beauty sees,
In life unnumber'd mysteries:
Dreams, if thou wilt! So let it be:
Fresh glories ever weaveth he;
Truthful, and bright, and spirit-free,
He dreams of immortality.
Fresh glories ever weaveth he;
Truthful, and bright, and spirit-free,
He dreams of immortality.
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THE CONFESSION.
When Damon to his Lesbia sigh'd,
And vowed that he adored her,
He took the hand she half denied,
And kneeling he implored her.
And vowed that he adored her,
He took the hand she half denied,
And kneeling he implored her.
Her eyes the maiden downward cast,
Her rising shame to cover;
But ere they fell, one look there pass'd
Of pity on her lover.
Her rising shame to cover;
But ere they fell, one look there pass'd
Of pity on her lover.
He saw that look so eloquent,
And, though it not dissembled,
He would have ask'd her what it meant;
He prest her hand; it trembled:
And, though it not dissembled,
He would have ask'd her what it meant;
He prest her hand; it trembled:
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Deep glow'd the blush upon her cheek,
And still more lovely made her;
And, while her tongue refused to speak,
Cheek, hand, and eye betray'd her.
And still more lovely made her;
And, while her tongue refused to speak,
Cheek, hand, and eye betray'd her.
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MORNING.
Robed in light
Silver-white,
Clearer now and clearer,
One I see
Floating free,
Nearer now and nearer;
Silver-white,
Clearer now and clearer,
One I see
Floating free,
Nearer now and nearer;
From her glance
Radiance
Streaming as she soareth;
Shades afar
Melting are
In the flood she poureth;
Radiance
Streaming as she soareth;
Shades afar
Melting are
In the flood she poureth;
Saffron-tinged,
Purple-fringed
Clouds about her sailing,
While her breath
Scattereth
Sweets, the air regaling:
Purple-fringed
Clouds about her sailing,
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Scattereth
Sweets, the air regaling:
Loose her hair,
Flaxen-fair;
Rosy-faced she seemeth,
Like a maid
Blush-array'd,
When of love she dreameth.
Flaxen-fair;
Rosy-faced she seemeth,
Like a maid
Blush-array'd,
When of love she dreameth.
Merrily
Cometh she;
Now her hand is waving;
Spirits young,
Motley throng,
Hidden couches leaving
Cometh she;
Now her hand is waving;
Spirits young,
Motley throng,
Hidden couches leaving
Mount in play,
Fancies gay,
Hopes and Joys pursuing,
Visions bright,
New delight
Still before them viewing;
Fancies gay,
Hopes and Joys pursuing,
Visions bright,
New delight
Still before them viewing;
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At her call,
Sparkling all,
Quick they flock around her,
Fluttering,
Frolicking,
Happy to have found her:
Sparkling all,
Quick they flock around her,
Fluttering,
Frolicking,
Happy to have found her:
Loud the glee;
Harmony
In mine ear is ringing;
Oh, could I
Birdlike fly,
There would I be singing!
Harmony
In mine ear is ringing;
Oh, could I
Birdlike fly,
There would I be singing!
She, the while,
Many a smile
Sheddeth beaming o'er them;
Yet she will
Upward still
Look and move before them:
Many a smile
Sheddeth beaming o'er them;
Yet she will
Upward still
Look and move before them:
Warmer glow
On her brow
Mantles, while ascending;
Who can guess
To what bliss
She her way is wending?
On her brow
Mantles, while ascending;
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To what bliss
She her way is wending?
Trustfully
Gazeth she,
Like to one believing,
When he sees
Mysteries
Past the mind's conceiving.
Gazeth she,
Like to one believing,
When he sees
Mysteries
Past the mind's conceiving.
Seem'd as she
Smiled on me;
Yet to look I dare not;
For those eyn
Do so shine,
Sight of them I bear not:
Smiled on me;
Yet to look I dare not;
For those eyn
Do so shine,
Sight of them I bear not:
Yet I would,
If I could,
(How my heart is yearning!)
Drink their rays,
In the blaze
Till my heart were burning!
If I could,
(How my heart is yearning!)
Drink their rays,
In the blaze
Till my heart were burning!
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Is she gone?
There are none
Of those forms remaining;
In the clear
Atmosphere
Silent beauty reigning:
There are none
Of those forms remaining;
In the clear
Atmosphere
Silent beauty reigning:
Clouds of gold
I behold,
On blue deep reposing;
Mirror-light
Infinite,
Earth and heaven disclosing:
I behold,
On blue deep reposing;
Mirror-light
Infinite,
Earth and heaven disclosing:
All above
Joy and love;
Mountains fall asunder;
Hills arise,
Kiss the skies:
Lost am I in wonder!
Joy and love;
Mountains fall asunder;
Hills arise,
Kiss the skies:
Lost am I in wonder!
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THE MAID OF LUCERNE.
The air was still; the deer had gone
To rest him in the brake;
The song of birds had ceased; the moon
Shone in the glassy lake.
To rest him in the brake;
The song of birds had ceased; the moon
Shone in the glassy lake.
Upon its bank a maiden stood,
All full of grief, forlorn;
The tear adown her cheek fast flowed;
She had come there to mourn.
All full of grief, forlorn;
The tear adown her cheek fast flowed;
She had come there to mourn.
Her brow was lily-pale; her eye
Was like the wave, clear blue,
Soft as the beam that moonlit sky
Upon the water threw.
Was like the wave, clear blue,
Soft as the beam that moonlit sky
Upon the water threw.
35
She gazed upon the waters deep:
“Oh, all is sad to me;”
She said—“I cannot choose but weep,
Whene'er this spot I see.
“Oh, all is sad to me;”
She said—“I cannot choose but weep,
Whene'er this spot I see.
Twas here we last together were,
Upon thy bank, Lucerne;
From off my cheek he wiped the tear,
And said he would return.
Upon thy bank, Lucerne;
From off my cheek he wiped the tear,
And said he would return.
But now he has been long away,
And I have hoped in vain:
Though day and night I wish and pray,
He doth not come again.
And I have hoped in vain:
Though day and night I wish and pray,
He doth not come again.
A coat of scarlet then he wore,
His long white plume it waved;
His broad swordhilt he grasp'd, and swore
Danger and death he braved:
His long white plume it waved;
His broad swordhilt he grasp'd, and swore
Danger and death he braved:
He said he braved it all for me,
That he would rich return,
And happy then our days should be
In his own dear Lucerne.
That he would rich return,
And happy then our days should be
In his own dear Lucerne.
36
But I would rather he had stay'd,
And we had both been poor:
Riches to break our hearts were made:
I ne'er shall see him more.
And we had both been poor:
Riches to break our hearts were made:
I ne'er shall see him more.
Oh, what have we to do with war?
Why should the Switzer roam?
The mountain heights our castles are,
The pleasant vale our home:
Why should the Switzer roam?
The mountain heights our castles are,
The pleasant vale our home:
The herdboy milks his kine at eve,
And sings his country song;
He hath no care his heart to grieve;
Merry he trips along;
And sings his country song;
He hath no care his heart to grieve;
Merry he trips along;
And oft as feast and holiday
And village sports return,
He comes to join the dance and play
On thy green sward, Lucerne;
And village sports return,
He comes to join the dance and play
On thy green sward, Lucerne;
Then bounds he lightly as the roe,
And clasps his maiden dear,
And sweetly smiles, and whispers low
What she is pleased to hear:
And clasps his maiden dear,
And sweetly smiles, and whispers low
What she is pleased to hear:
37
And thus my William clasp'd me oft,
And look'd so fond and true,
And whisper'd words so warm and soft,
That to my heart he grew:
And look'd so fond and true,
And whisper'd words so warm and soft,
That to my heart he grew:
So gay, so happy did he seem,
That I was happy too;
And sparkling as the mountain stream,
And swift the moments flew.
That I was happy too;
And sparkling as the mountain stream,
And swift the moments flew.
Where is he now? Far, far away!
No feasts to him return;
No merry dance and holiday
On green sward of Lucerne:
No feasts to him return;
No merry dance and holiday
On green sward of Lucerne:
He thinks of home; and then his eyes,
Like mine, with tears are dim;
He thinks of me, and then he sighs,
As I to think of him:
Like mine, with tears are dim;
He thinks of me, and then he sighs,
As I to think of him:
In battle oft he swings his sword,
The bravest of the brave;
A thousand deaths are near! O Lord,
Save him, in mercy, save!
The bravest of the brave;
A thousand deaths are near! O Lord,
Save him, in mercy, save!
38
May be, a captive he doth lie
In prison dark and grim,
And cruel foes are round, and I
Not there to comfort him.
In prison dark and grim,
And cruel foes are round, and I
Not there to comfort him.
Perhaps e'en now, all ghastly bare,
He lies among the slain:
Oh! would that I too had been there,
Beside him to have lain!
He lies among the slain:
Oh! would that I too had been there,
Beside him to have lain!
He never knew how much I felt,
How much I loved! ah, no!
I did not try his heart to melt;
I let him from me go:
How much I loved! ah, no!
I did not try his heart to melt;
I let him from me go:
I did not pray and weep enough,
I did not clasp his knee;
He could not then have cast me off;
He would have pitied me.
I did not clasp his knee;
He could not then have cast me off;
He would have pitied me.
Oh, had I thought that he would go
So far, so long away,
He never should have left me so;
I would have made him stay.
So far, so long away,
He never should have left me so;
I would have made him stay.
39
Yet still he said, he promised me
That he would come again;
He spake and look'd so trustfully,
That I believed him then:
That he would come again;
He spake and look'd so trustfully,
That I believed him then:
But now I can no more believe;
No; he will ne'er return;
And I am left alone to grieve
Upon thy banks, Lucerne.”
No; he will ne'er return;
And I am left alone to grieve
Upon thy banks, Lucerne.”
40
CHANTICLEER.
The ruddy dawn thro' eastern sky is breaking:
Now shakes his pinion strong, his dames awaking,
The gallant chanticleer:
Down leaping from his perch, and slumber scorning,
He lifts his head aloft to greet the morning,
Then crows he loud and clear.
Now shakes his pinion strong, his dames awaking,
The gallant chanticleer:
Down leaping from his perch, and slumber scorning,
He lifts his head aloft to greet the morning,
Then crows he loud and clear.
Like waterfall down hollow mountain springing,
Like silver chime of bell in turret ringing,
Thou crowest, chanticleer:
Night and her shadowy train all start with wonder,
As thy alarum were a peal of thunder,
Scattering their figures drear.
Like silver chime of bell in turret ringing,
Thou crowest, chanticleer:
Night and her shadowy train all start with wonder,
As thy alarum were a peal of thunder,
Scattering their figures drear.
41
The owl in ivy watchtower doleful sitting,
The bat in air with drowsy murmur flitting,
They hide them, chanticleer:
The famish'd wolf about the graveyard howling,
The midnight robber in the forest prowling,
They slink away for fear.
The bat in air with drowsy murmur flitting,
They hide them, chanticleer:
The famish'd wolf about the graveyard howling,
The midnight robber in the forest prowling,
They slink away for fear.
The lark, like thee, of dull reposing weary,
Springs from her dewy glen all blithe and cheery,
And hails thee, chanticleer:
And all her flock arise; the air they sprinkle
With plumes that soar, and ever soar, and twinkle,
The sun approaching near.
Springs from her dewy glen all blithe and cheery,
And hails thee, chanticleer:
And all her flock arise; the air they sprinkle
With plumes that soar, and ever soar, and twinkle,
The sun approaching near.
The housewife, restless on her pillow turning,
Thinks of her daily task and scanty earning,
Till warn'd by chanticleer,
She quick prepares her dusky lamp to kindle,
To say her early prayer, and ply her spindle,
To feed the children dear.
Thinks of her daily task and scanty earning,
Till warn'd by chanticleer,
She quick prepares her dusky lamp to kindle,
To say her early prayer, and ply her spindle,
To feed the children dear.
Now with his team abroad the ploughman speedeth,
Gay whistling as he goes, and scarce he needeth
Thy warning, chanticleer;
With sturdy step the furrow straight pursuing,
The stubborn breast of earth with might subduing,
He renovates the year.
Gay whistling as he goes, and scarce he needeth
Thy warning, chanticleer;
42
The stubborn breast of earth with might subduing,
He renovates the year.
The huntsman's heart beats high, for well he knoweth
Tis time to mount and be a-field, when croweth
The lusty chanticleer:
Hark, hark! what echoes ring? The hounds a-baying,
The bugle blowing shrill, the coursers neighing,
Glad music to his ear.
Tis time to mount and be a-field, when croweth
The lusty chanticleer:
Hark, hark! what echoes ring? The hounds a-baying,
The bugle blowing shrill, the coursers neighing,
Glad music to his ear.
All ye that honour time and health and duty,
That love the balmy air, the morning's beauty,
Listen to chanticleer:
From him fresh life and strength and gladness borrow;
Awake; arise; and dream not of the morrow;
For lo, to-day is here!
That love the balmy air, the morning's beauty,
Listen to chanticleer:
From him fresh life and strength and gladness borrow;
Awake; arise; and dream not of the morrow;
For lo, to-day is here!
Me, too, brave bird, among thy votaries number:
Thou rousest me from soft refreshing slumber;
Thy matin call I hear;
I go to wander o'er the sunlit mountain,
I go to plunge me in the sparkling fountain:
Thanks to thee, chanticleer!
Thou rousest me from soft refreshing slumber;
Thy matin call I hear;
I go to wander o'er the sunlit mountain,
I go to plunge me in the sparkling fountain:
Thanks to thee, chanticleer!
53
CONSOLATION.
Sorrow-laden
Went a maiden,
Comfort knew she none;
For her lover,
Thoughtless rover,
Far away had gone.
Went a maiden,
Comfort knew she none;
For her lover,
Thoughtless rover,
Far away had gone.
Melancholy
By the lowly
Winding stream of Dee,
Where a willow
Found a pillow
On the wave, stood she:
By the lowly
Winding stream of Dee,
Where a willow
Found a pillow
On the wave, stood she:
54
Near the lady
Sat in shady
Bower a nightingale;
Thro' the valley
Musically
Rang her pensive tale.
Sat in shady
Bower a nightingale;
Thro' the valley
Musically
Rang her pensive tale.
“Gentle singer,
I could linger,”
(Thus the maiden spake,)
“Ever near thee,
Tho' to hear thee
Makes my own heart ache.
I could linger,”
(Thus the maiden spake,)
“Ever near thee,
Tho' to hear thee
Makes my own heart ache.
Sad thou seemest,
Yet thou dreamest
Not of woes like mine;
Happy should I
Deem me, could I
Change my lot for thine.
Yet thou dreamest
Not of woes like mine;
Happy should I
Deem me, could I
Change my lot for thine.
Thou hast plighted
love requited
To a tender mate;
He ne'er grieves thee,
Never leaves thee
(Like me) desolate.
love requited
To a tender mate;
55
Never leaves thee
(Like me) desolate.
From my sorrow
Thou might'st borrow
Plaints so wild and deep,
That for pity
Of thy ditty
Hill and dale would weep.
Thou might'st borrow
Plaints so wild and deep,
That for pity
Of thy ditty
Hill and dale would weep.
One dear to me
Came to woo me,
Swore to be my spouse;
Softly spoken,
Falsely broken
Were his many vows:
Came to woo me,
Swore to be my spouse;
Softly spoken,
Falsely broken
Were his many vows:
Cruel-hearted
He departed,
Left me here to mourn;
For a new love
Left his true love;
Ne'er will he return.”
He departed,
Left me here to mourn;
For a new love
Left his true love;
Ne'er will he return.”
56
“Gentle lady,”
Thus from shady
Bower the bird replied;
Twas some airy
Winged fairy
That her words supplied:
Thus from shady
Bower the bird replied;
Twas some airy
Winged fairy
That her words supplied:
“Nought availing
Is thy wailing;
Gods send weal and woe;
They are kinder,
Man is blinder
Than his heart can know.
Is thy wailing;
Gods send weal and woe;
They are kinder,
Man is blinder
Than his heart can know.
Hear my story,
And no more I
Think wilt thou repine;
For thy sadness
Would be madness,
If my lot were thine.
And no more I
Think wilt thou repine;
For thy sadness
Would be madness,
If my lot were thine.
One dear to me
Came to woo me,
A sweet singing bird;
Warmer suer,
Fonder, truer,
Never yet was heard.
Came to woo me,
A sweet singing bird;
57
Fonder, truer,
Never yet was heard.
Soon he won me;
When upon me
Stream'd his melting eye,
So beguiling,
Softly smiling,
Nought could I deny.
When upon me
Stream'd his melting eye,
So beguiling,
Softly smiling,
Nought could I deny.
Feathers brown he
Wore, a downy
Mantle on his breast;
Oft with meaning
Fond there leaning
I my cheek would rest;
Wore, a downy
Mantle on his breast;
Oft with meaning
Fond there leaning
I my cheek would rest;
And he prest me,
And carest me
With his tender beak;
Oh! the blisses
Of his kisses
Tongue may never speak!
And carest me
With his tender beak;
Oh! the blisses
Of his kisses
Tongue may never speak!
58
At the dawning
Of the morning,
Bathed in dewy light,
Floating, sailing,
Sweets inhaling,
We pursued our flight:
Of the morning,
Bathed in dewy light,
Floating, sailing,
Sweets inhaling,
We pursued our flight:
All was leisure,
Sport and pleasure,
Fresh and green the ground;
Heaven above us
Seem'd to love us,
Smiling all around.
Sport and pleasure,
Fresh and green the ground;
Heaven above us
Seem'd to love us,
Smiling all around.
Oft reposing
At the closing
Of a summer's day,
Softest feeling
O'er him stealing,
He began his lay:
At the closing
Of a summer's day,
Softest feeling
O'er him stealing,
He began his lay:
Warbling, trilling,
Melting, thrilling,
Gush'd that silver tongue:
Every alley
Of the valley
Echoed with the song:
Melting, thrilling,
Gush'd that silver tongue:
59
Of the valley
Echoed with the song:
Trees would listen,
Forests glisten
With a smoother brow,
And the river
Cease to quiver,
And the winds to blow.
Forests glisten
With a smoother brow,
And the river
Cease to quiver,
And the winds to blow.
Oh, how lightly,
Oh, how brightly
Pass'd the hours away;
Joy ne'er ceasing,
Still increasing,
Till one fatal day!
Oh, how brightly
Pass'd the hours away;
Joy ne'er ceasing,
Still increasing,
Till one fatal day!
Loud and shrilly
Thro' the chilly
Air the north-wind blew;
Ravens flutter'd
Round and mutter'd
Bodings strange and new;
Thro' the chilly
Air the north-wind blew;
Ravens flutter'd
Round and mutter'd
Bodings strange and new;
60
He, the warning
Rashly scorning,
Sallied forth to stray;
Bold and fearless,
Thro' the cheerless
Woods he went his way,
Rashly scorning,
Sallied forth to stray;
Bold and fearless,
Thro' the cheerless
Woods he went his way,
Little caring
Whither faring,
When with dire intent
Came a foeman,
Cruel bowman,
And his bow he bent;
Whither faring,
When with dire intent
Came a foeman,
Cruel bowman,
And his bow he bent;
Aiming crafty,
Sped a shaft he
At my tender mate;
Than the greedy
Kite more speedy
Came the winged fate;
Sped a shaft he
At my tender mate;
Than the greedy
Kite more speedy
Came the winged fate;
Bosom-stricken—
Oh! I sicken
Yet the tale to tell—
In the hoary
Stream all gory
My beloved one fell;
Oh! I sicken
Yet the tale to tell—
61
Stream all gory
My beloved one fell;
Round the troubled
Waters bubbled,
Then with many a wave
Sweeping o'er him,
Ruthless bore him
To his ocean grave.
Waters bubbled,
Then with many a wave
Sweeping o'er him,
Ruthless bore him
To his ocean grave.
Thou that whinest
And repinest
For a fickle swain,
I that hear thee
Come to cheer thee,
And to soothe thy pain:
And repinest
For a fickle swain,
I that hear thee
Come to cheer thee,
And to soothe thy pain:
Thou thy lover
May'st recover;
Mine is torn from me;
Torn for ever!
I shall never
Such another see!
May'st recover;
Mine is torn from me;
Torn for ever!
I shall never
Such another see!
62
From my sorrow
Comfort borrow,
And no more bewail:
Woes past curing
Learn enduring
From the nightingale.”
Comfort borrow,
And no more bewail:
Woes past curing
Learn enduring
From the nightingale.”
66
COURAGE.
“The Guard will die, but not surrender!”—WhoHath read of Frenchmen and of Waterloo,
And doth not sigh to think, how many brave
Should madly rush to combat and the grave,
For one proud man, who little cared for them,
Save as the tools to fix a diadem
On his own head? Dog-valiant! Happier those
Who make no war but with their country's foes,
Ne'er draw the sword but in a rightful cause,
For their own hearth and home, their faith, their laws.
Yet happier far is he, who ne'er put on
The soldier's garb, no laurel ever won;
But bears a heart of purpose firm and high,
To fight the great life-battle manfully,
Himself, his pride and passions to subdue,
The path of right unswerving to pursue,
Despising pleasure, wealth, and world-renown,
Earning his heavenly meed, a bright immortal crown.
67
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
I
Oft when the Sun thro' purple summer-cloudsSheds the noonday, but half his glory shrouds;
We mortals bask beneath his smile, we drink
The vital air he fills, yet little think
Of him, and scarcely thank him for his light.
But when he sinks behind the mountain height,
We know that he will close his bright career,
And darkness overspread our hemisphere:
Then do we look our last, and bid adieu
To his departing beams, and worship him anew.
II
Hero! The dawning of thy greatness dazedThe sight of all beholders; and we gazed
With wonder on thee, till thy glories shone
Reflected in our hearts, and seem'd our own:
68
Is near, when thou must quit this nether clime,
And darkness fall upon our English land:
Then deeply shall we feel and understand,
Whom we have lost, and mourning cry, that none
Remain to us like thee, unconquer'd Wellington!
113
ODE ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES
November 1841.
What thunderpeal was hither sent?
Again! again! From yonder battlement
Echoing it roll'd the hoary Thames along.
I know, I know that sound;
Twas the cannon's brazen tongue;
England an heir hath found;
A princely son
Is born to England's throne.
Arise, arise, thou City of the Earth,
And with thy million tongues proclaim the glorious birth!
Again! again! From yonder battlement
Echoing it roll'd the hoary Thames along.
I know, I know that sound;
Twas the cannon's brazen tongue;
England an heir hath found;
A princely son
Is born to England's throne.
Arise, arise, thou City of the Earth,
And with thy million tongues proclaim the glorious birth!
The busy tread I hear
Of thousands far and near;
Throngs from street to street
Joy-bewilder'd meet;
Young and old are there,
Children by their mother led;
Th' infirm hath left his bed,
Poverty hath ceased to toil,
Pain forgets her pangs a while;
All one thought inspires:
Quick and anxious hurrying by,
They ask each other eagerly,
If tis a dream that mocks their fond desires.
What shout the air hath rent?
Hurrah, hurrah!
Tis the voice of England's merriment.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Long live the Prince, long live our Queen Victoria!
Of thousands far and near;
Throngs from street to street
Joy-bewilder'd meet;
114
Children by their mother led;
Th' infirm hath left his bed,
Poverty hath ceased to toil,
Pain forgets her pangs a while;
All one thought inspires:
Quick and anxious hurrying by,
They ask each other eagerly,
If tis a dream that mocks their fond desires.
What shout the air hath rent?
Hurrah, hurrah!
Tis the voice of England's merriment.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Long live the Prince, long live our Queen Victoria!
It is no dream. The merry bells are ringing,
With many a chime,
As of olden time,
In the gray turret swinging;
And lo, on high,
Streaming to the sky,
Gaily our country's banner is unfurl'd!
Arise, arise, rejoice, thou City of the World!
With many a chime,
As of olden time,
In the gray turret swinging;
And lo, on high,
Streaming to the sky,
Gaily our country's banner is unfurl'd!
Arise, arise, rejoice, thou City of the World!
115
Night is past,
Morn at last
To crown our hopes is come;
Beams the light of heavenly grace
On yonder kingly dome.
There they lie, a beauteous pair,
Royal child, and mother fair,
The hopes of all our race.
And one is watching near,
He to our people dear,
Who sees reflected from an infant face
Himself, the father to a line of kings.
O bliss! O joy!
Joy such as rarely springs
In royal hearts! Upon her boy
Victoria smiles; or down her cheek
Perchance the pearly teardrop steals,
Telling what no words can speak,
All the wife, the mother feels.
Yes, she shall weep; she, in whose breast
All England treasur'd lies,
And mightiest empire's destinies,
Shall melt with woman's love opprest,
And in her weakness thrice be blest.
She for her babe shall breathe the silent prayer,
And for a while forget a kingdom's care.
Morn at last
To crown our hopes is come;
Beams the light of heavenly grace
On yonder kingly dome.
There they lie, a beauteous pair,
Royal child, and mother fair,
The hopes of all our race.
And one is watching near,
He to our people dear,
Who sees reflected from an infant face
Himself, the father to a line of kings.
O bliss! O joy!
Joy such as rarely springs
In royal hearts! Upon her boy
Victoria smiles; or down her cheek
Perchance the pearly teardrop steals,
Telling what no words can speak,
All the wife, the mother feels.
Yes, she shall weep; she, in whose breast
All England treasur'd lies,
And mightiest empire's destinies,
Shall melt with woman's love opprest,
And in her weakness thrice be blest.
116
And for a while forget a kingdom's care.
In many a British hall
There shall be mirth and festival;
And none so poor, but in that festive glee
Shall have their share; while sport and game,
Revel and song proclaim
A nation's jubilee.
Cities wide shall rear
Signals bright and clear,
Dazzling the moon, and turning night to day;
Village swains from home
Many a mile shall come,
And linger till the morn hath call'd away.
In Cambrian vale the minstrel wild
Lewellyn's heir shall sing,
Lewellyn's heir and England's child
The mountain echoes ring.
Erin her voice shall raise,
And speak of happier days;
While greater hand than mine
With prophet's fire
Shall seize the lyre,
And sweep the magic strings with energy divine.
There shall be mirth and festival;
And none so poor, but in that festive glee
Shall have their share; while sport and game,
Revel and song proclaim
A nation's jubilee.
Cities wide shall rear
Signals bright and clear,
Dazzling the moon, and turning night to day;
Village swains from home
Many a mile shall come,
And linger till the morn hath call'd away.
In Cambrian vale the minstrel wild
Lewellyn's heir shall sing,
Lewellyn's heir and England's child
The mountain echoes ring.
Erin her voice shall raise,
And speak of happier days;
While greater hand than mine
With prophet's fire
117
And sweep the magic strings with energy divine.
Britons, rejoice; but now let holier thought
Temper your mirth. Bend every knee
To Him, who for our Queen hath wrought
From pangs of death delivery.
Your voices all in one thanksgiving raise,
Pour in one choral tide the notes of praise.
Temper your mirth. Bend every knee
To Him, who for our Queen hath wrought
From pangs of death delivery.
Your voices all in one thanksgiving raise,
Pour in one choral tide the notes of praise.
O Thou, from whom all blessings flow
To prince and peasant, high and low,
Look, we beseech, with aspect mild
Upon the mother and the child.
The mother to her strength restore,
Upon the child thy mercies pour:
Grant that he grow
To manhood's prime and kingly majesty,
And learn his people and himself to know:
Make him to be
True to our faith, our laws, and liberty,
A light to us, a minister to Thee.
Oh, while I pray
On this auspicious day,
Do thou my soul inspire.
Now blessed be the morn
On which this child was born;
Blest be his princely sire;
Long life to her that England's sceptre sways;
But be to Thee, O mighty Lord, the glory and the praise!
To prince and peasant, high and low,
Look, we beseech, with aspect mild
Upon the mother and the child.
The mother to her strength restore,
Upon the child thy mercies pour:
Grant that he grow
To manhood's prime and kingly majesty,
And learn his people and himself to know:
Make him to be
True to our faith, our laws, and liberty,
A light to us, a minister to Thee.
Oh, while I pray
On this auspicious day,
118
Now blessed be the morn
On which this child was born;
Blest be his princely sire;
Long life to her that England's sceptre sways;
But be to Thee, O mighty Lord, the glory and the praise!
| Poems (1857) | |