University of Virginia Library

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90

STANZAS.

(A BIT OF BIRTH-DAY MORBIDEZZA.)

This day it was my life begun—
And small my joy in looking back
Along the course which I have run—
A dreary track!

A restless, frantic war with fate,
Or calm disgust—too calm by far!
The sullen, sluggish Peace, whose weight
Is worse than War;

When mad Despair gives up the strife
With ills with which 'twere vain to cope—
And rebel pride sends love of life
To follow Hope!—

The wasting of the aimless breast—
Hopes waxing but to wane in Grief—
The listless mien to cloak unrest—
Poor, poor relief!

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91

Each day endured, as what conveyed
A chance of change, though bringing none;
Each day a burden while it stayed,
A grief when gone!—

I should be young, to date by years—
But bounding hopes, and fancies gay,
The generous warmth—the ready tears—
Where, where are they?—

Once Love made common day divine—
And once I thrilled with thirst of Fame—
To make the general mention mine,
The deathless name!—

Those sanguine dreams of youth are gone—
The tinge of glory all things wore;
Truth, mournful truth, remains alone—
Illusion's o'er!

The dreary past I would forget—
And with the future calmly cope;
The first has nothing for regret—
The last, for hope!—

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92

My earlier birth-days brought delight—
My later little else than grief—
No more the coming year looks bright,
The past one, brief!

One grief is mine to-day—to see
So much remains of wretched breath;
One sad delight—so much to be
The nearer Death.