 | Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] |  |
99
STANZAS.
[My mind is all chaotic, and the Muse no more]
My mind is all chaotic, and the Muse no more
Shines all propitious o'er me. Ah! I may not soar
Mid the bright realms of fancy—not to me is given
The power to waft sweet incense to the throne of Heaven.
Shines all propitious o'er me. Ah! I may not soar
Mid the bright realms of fancy—not to me is given
The power to waft sweet incense to the throne of Heaven.
Earth, earth is still around me—earthly hopes and fears
Have flung a heavy chain o'er all my fevered years,
Which I may not uncoil;—thus, I the fruit do reap
From off the tree I planted, and 'tis mine to weep.
Have flung a heavy chain o'er all my fevered years,
Which I may not uncoil;—thus, I the fruit do reap
From off the tree I planted, and 'tis mine to weep.
Nature is frowning darkly, and the sun is hid.
Sweet Muse, I own thine influence; as a child, when chid,
Droops its bright eyes with sorrow, thus my fainting heart
Takes impress from thy radiance, and mourns thy beams depart.
Sweet Muse, I own thine influence; as a child, when chid,
Droops its bright eyes with sorrow, thus my fainting heart
Takes impress from thy radiance, and mourns thy beams depart.
Shine once again, O! bright sun, bathe and cheer my brow,
Chasing with thine effulgence thoughts which haunt me now;
They cease not e'en in sleeping—ah! how sad they flow,
Checking my very heart's blood with the chill of woe.
Chasing with thine effulgence thoughts which haunt me now;
They cease not e'en in sleeping—ah! how sad they flow,
Checking my very heart's blood with the chill of woe.
| Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] | |