The Legend of Genevieve with other tales and poems. By Delta [i.e. David Macbeth Moir] |
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THE
WILD ROSE. |
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 | The Legend of Genevieve |  |
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THE WILD ROSE.
From cloudless skies, the sun o'erhung
With crimson fire the western main;
In shadows deep and verdure young,
The woods and fields smiled back again;
With crimson fire the western main;
In shadows deep and verdure young,
The woods and fields smiled back again;
It was a luxury to breathe
The very air, so pure and clear;
Vales, like a map, were spread beneath,
And far withdrawing hills seem'd near.
The very air, so pure and clear;
Vales, like a map, were spread beneath,
And far withdrawing hills seem'd near.
Afar from paths of men I stray'd,
With raptured eye and glowing heart;
And felt, that every field and glade
Could fresh delight and love impart;
With raptured eye and glowing heart;
And felt, that every field and glade
Could fresh delight and love impart;
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The running stream, with flowers o'erhung;
The trees that seem'd to woo the air;
The bees that humm'd, the birds that sung,—
'Twas too much for the mind to bear!
The trees that seem'd to woo the air;
The bees that humm'd, the birds that sung,—
'Twas too much for the mind to bear!
The city's noise was left behind,
Remote its azure spires appear'd;
And human strife, thus brought to mind,
The rural quiet more endear'd.
Remote its azure spires appear'd;
And human strife, thus brought to mind,
The rural quiet more endear'd.
Beside the stream, I threw me down
Amid the flowers all fresh and fair,
And, shooting from its banks of brown,
A wild rose spread its boughs in air;
Amid the flowers all fresh and fair,
And, shooting from its banks of brown,
A wild rose spread its boughs in air;
Its leaves so beautifully green,
Its cups so delicate in hue,
Awaken'd thoughts of many a scene,
Far banish'd from my vacant view;
Its cups so delicate in hue,
Awaken'd thoughts of many a scene,
Far banish'd from my vacant view;
Thoughts, that have long been veil'd in sleep;
Hopes, that allured but to depart;
And recollections buried deep
Within the shut and silent heart.
Hopes, that allured but to depart;
And recollections buried deep
Within the shut and silent heart.
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Wrapt in the mournful reverie—
Of shadowy thoughts a crowding throng,
Before the glass of Memory,
Like restless spirits, troop'd along;
Of shadowy thoughts a crowding throng,
Before the glass of Memory,
Like restless spirits, troop'd along;
And, for a while, absorb'd in thought,
From prospects drearily o'ercast,
A solace and relief I sought
Amid the sunshine of the past.
From prospects drearily o'ercast,
A solace and relief I sought
Amid the sunshine of the past.
Frail beings are we! following still
The rainbow hopes that lure afar;
By night and day, for good and ill,
With others, or ourselves at war!
The rainbow hopes that lure afar;
By night and day, for good and ill,
With others, or ourselves at war!
We cannot stop—we will not try
Contentment in our lot to find;
We dare not rest; tranquillity
Is worse than discord to mankind!
Contentment in our lot to find;
We dare not rest; tranquillity
Is worse than discord to mankind!
Well—'twill be over soon!—the strife
Of being, and the fond regret;
The visions of exalted life
We cannot reach, nor yet forget.
Of being, and the fond regret;
The visions of exalted life
We cannot reach, nor yet forget.
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Chain'd down, and fix'd to present care—
Like exiles to their native shore
We look behind us; but despair
To find the bliss that charm'd before!
Like exiles to their native shore
We look behind us; but despair
To find the bliss that charm'd before!
Then come the rack—the searching pains—
The rankling of the poison'd wound—
And, like Prometheus, from the chains,
With many a coil, that gird us round,
The rankling of the poison'd wound—
And, like Prometheus, from the chains,
With many a coil, that gird us round,
We strive to rise—or, like the bird,
That beats in vain against the wires,
Until no more its wings are heard,
And, palsied with its toil, expires!
That beats in vain against the wires,
Until no more its wings are heard,
And, palsied with its toil, expires!
| The Legend of Genevieve | |