 | Poems |  |
176
STANZAS.
['Tis sweet to gaze upon the unveiled brow]
'Tis sweet to gaze upon the unveiled brow
Of the dark midnight, radiantly arrayed,
Or listen to the waters in their flow
Thro' the deep masses of the forest shade;
Or on the lake's most silent bosom, made
A silvery mirror by the virgin moon,
Calmly to float, by contemplation swayed,
Thro' scenes, far fairer than the gaudy noon
Yields with her rainbow hues that pass away so soon.
Of the dark midnight, radiantly arrayed,
Or listen to the waters in their flow
Thro' the deep masses of the forest shade;
Or on the lake's most silent bosom, made
A silvery mirror by the virgin moon,
Calmly to float, by contemplation swayed,
Thro' scenes, far fairer than the gaudy noon
Yields with her rainbow hues that pass away so soon.
177
'Tis sweet to see our native land arise
Midway from ocean, like a white sea-bird,
And meet kind glances from loved, gentle eyes,
And welcomes, from soft tones so often heard:
To wander o'er the verdant hills which gird
Our childhood's home, not all companionless,
Winning bright smiles with many a whisper'd word,
Swearing whate'er betide to love no less
Than then, devotedly, for ever, to excess!
Midway from ocean, like a white sea-bird,
And meet kind glances from loved, gentle eyes,
And welcomes, from soft tones so often heard:
To wander o'er the verdant hills which gird
Our childhood's home, not all companionless,
Winning bright smiles with many a whisper'd word,
Swearing whate'er betide to love no less
Than then, devotedly, for ever, to excess!
'Tis sweet to read the page of classic lore
To learn how armies fought, and heroes bled,
To free their country from the chain it bore
And win proud laurels for each patriot head;
Or be by wandering Fancy gaily led
Thro' all the rich dominions of Romance,
And view the phantoms of the glorious dead
Rise from their graves and mingle in the dance,
Or woo their ladye-love with shining sword and lance.
To learn how armies fought, and heroes bled,
To free their country from the chain it bore
And win proud laurels for each patriot head;
Or be by wandering Fancy gaily led
Thro' all the rich dominions of Romance,
And view the phantoms of the glorious dead
Rise from their graves and mingle in the dance,
Or woo their ladye-love with shining sword and lance.
178
'Tis sweet to watch the sunny, joy-lit eye
Of happy childhood, and the cloudless brow,
The heart that ne'er hath tasted misery,
The merriment, uncheck'd in its quick flow:
These tell us, in a whisper, soft and low,
Glad tales of our own wayward infancy,
When grief was not an habitant as now,
When we were careless, fearless, and as free,
As the wild forest bird, that springs from tree to tree.
Of happy childhood, and the cloudless brow,
The heart that ne'er hath tasted misery,
The merriment, uncheck'd in its quick flow:
These tell us, in a whisper, soft and low,
Glad tales of our own wayward infancy,
When grief was not an habitant as now,
When we were careless, fearless, and as free,
As the wild forest bird, that springs from tree to tree.
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