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Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature

By Charles Mackay
Mackay, Charles (1814-1889)

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STUDIES FROM THE ANTIQUE.
  
THE EUMENIDES:
  
ASTRÆA;
  
ACANTHA.
  
MARSYAS.
  
THE WISH OF MIDAS.
  
PROTEUS.
  
BACCHUS AND EVANTHE.
  
THE VESTAL FIRE EXTINGUISHED.
  
CHIRON.
  
DYNAMENE.
  
SISYPHUS.
  
MOMUS.
  
IPHIANASSA IN DODONA.
  
THE PRAYER OF THE PRIEST OF ISIS.
  
IARCHUS AND HIS RINGS.
  
THE GARDEN OF NEMESIS.
  
ADMETUS.
  
THE DREAM OF ANACREON.
  
PHIDIAS.
  
CASSANDRA.
  
ENCELADUS.
  
ORPHEUS IN THRACE.
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SKETCHES FROM NATURE.
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HEART-SORE IN BABYLON.
 I. 
No. I.—SELF-ASSERTION.
 II. 
No. II.—THE RIGHT TO DISDAIN.
 III. 
No. III.—A PRAYER FOR REST.
 IV. 
No. IV.—LOSSES.
 V. 
No. V.—NEVER ALONE.
 VI. 
No. VI.—A NAME ON A TREE.
 VII. 
No. VII.—CONSOLATION.
 VIII. 
No. VIII.—THE LOST JEWEL.
 IX. 
No. IX.—THE FAIR SERPENT.
 X. 
No. X.—THE DIRTY LITTLE SNOB.
 XI. 
No. XI.—THE WORN-OUT PEN.
 XII. 
No. XII.—THE SURE ESTATE.
  
LOUISE ON THE DOOR-STEP.
  
GREAT-GRANDFATHER.
  
THE SIGH OF THE PINE-TREES.
  
THE FIGHT IN THE SANCTUARY.
  
THE OLD MAN BY THE RIVER.
  
THE HEDGE IN THE GREEN LANE.
  
THE IVY AND THE BELL.
  
THE GREAT OVERTHROW.
  
ITHURIEL.
  
IN THE GREENWOOD.
  
THE TOP SAWYER OF ROTTENTOWN,
  
THE POOL OF ST. FILLANS.
  
THE BEAUTIFUL UNBEAUTIFUL.
  
THE KING'S VISITORS.
  
APPLES.
  
THE “WAR-CHRISTIAN.”
  
FLOWERS AND CHILDREN.
  
THE RED AND YELLOW LEAF IN OCTOBER.
  
THE RIM OF THE BOWL.
  
THE NOBLE SPIRITS.
  
THE BARD'S LAST SONG.
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SONGS.
  
DYING.
  
THE BROOK.
  
VANITY LET IT BE.
  
SPIRITS AND ANGELS.
  
LOVE DEFENDED.
  
LOVE IS DEAD.
  
BAR THE DOOR.
  
THE LITTLE MAN.
  
A CHRISTMAS GLEE.
  
HEY! THE GREEN HOLLY!
  
THE BONNIE WEE BIRD.
  
OUR SOCIAL REPUBLIC.
  
THE CHOICE.
  
THERE'S A LAND, A DEAR LAND.
  
COME IF YOU DARE!

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138

No. VIII.—THE LOST JEWEL.

Long ago, ah, long ago!
I lost a jewel of greater worth
Than the loveliest lady of the Earth
Could hang on her bosom as white as snow,—
Or any Emperor flushed with wine
Could place on a maiden's finger fine,
And say, “Beloved, be thou mine!”
Long ago, ah, long ago!
I lost it wandering to and fro,—
Fairer and purer, brighter far
Than the Morn or Evening Star.
139

Could I make it mine again,
To clasp it—hold it—and retain,
I'd be greater than the king,
Richer than the bloomy spring.
And where I lost it well I know;—
Skill cannot trace it,
Or wealth replace it,
Or anything else this world can show,—
This jewel so bright,
My heart's delight,
Lost in another's heart long ago,—
My richer than Ind,
My peace of mind,
Lost for ever! ah, long ago!
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