But this, as day-spring's flush, was brief As early bloom or dew; Alas! 'tis but the wither'd leaf That wears the enduring hue: Those rocks along the Rhine's fair shore, Might girdle in their world no more. For now on manhood's verge they stood, And heard life's thrilling call, As if a silver clarion woo'd To some high festival; And parted as young brothers part, They parted-soon the paths divide And making strangers in their course, Met they no more?—once more they met, Those kindred hearts and true! 'Twas on a field of death, where yet The battle-thunders flew, Though the fierce day was wellnigh past, And the red sunset smiled its last. But as the combat closed, they found THE MEETING OF THE BROTHERS. And pour'd forth on each other's neck The mists o'er boyhood's memory spread The faces of the holy dead Rose as in vanish'd years; The Rhine, the Rhine, the ever blest, Oh! was it then a time to die? And peace might turn again: A ball swept forth-'t was guided well- Happy, yes, happy thus to go! Bearing from earth away Affections, gifted ne'er to know A shadow-a decay, A passing touch of change or chill, A breath of aught whose breath can kill. And they, between whose sever'd souls, Once in close union tied, A gulf is set, a current rolls For ever to divide ; Well may they envy such a lot, Whose hearts yearn on- but mingle not. 321 THE LAST WISH. "Well may I weep to leave this world-thee-all these beautiful woods, and plains, and hills."-Lights and Shadows. Go to the forest shade, Seek thou the well-known glade, Like dark eyes fill'd with sleep, And bathed in hues of Summer's midnight sky. Bring me their buds, to shed A breath of May and of the wood's repose; With a reluctant heart, That fain would linger where the bright sun glows. Fain would I stay with thee Alas! this may not be; Yet bring me still the gifts of happier hours! Catches, in glassy rest, The dim green light that pours through laurel bowers. I know how softly bright, The water-lilies tremble there e'en now; Go to the pure stream's edge, And from its whisp'ring sedge Bring me those flowers to cool my fever'd brow! THE LAST WISH. Then, as in Hope's young days, Its faint leaves o'er the emerald turf around. Well know'st thou that fair tree A murmur of the bee Dwells ever in the honey'd lime above; Of all its clustering shower- Gather one woodbine bough, 323 Of the bower'd cottage which I bade thee mark, When by the hamlet last, Through dim wood lanes we pass'd, While dews were glancing to the glowworm's spark. Haste! to my pillow bear Those fragrant things and fair; My hand no more may bind them up at eve- One bright dream round me waft Of life, youth, summer-all that I must leave! And, oh! if thou would'st ask The grove, the stream, the hamlet vale to trace |