4. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; "Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. 5. Oh could I feel as I have felt,—or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene! As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me. 1815. ON A NUN". SONNET Composed in the name of a father whose daughter had recently died shortly after her marriage; and addressed to the father of her who had lately taken the veil. OF F two fair virgins, modest, though admired, Heaven made us happy, and now, wretched sires, Heaven for a nobler doom their worth desires, And gazing upon either, both required. Mine, while the torch of Hymen newly fired, Becomes extinguished, soon-too soon expires: But thou at least from out the jealous door, Which shuts between your never-meeting eyes, May'st hear her sweet and pious voice once more: I to the marble, where my daughter lies, Rush, the swoln flood of bitterness I pour, And knock, and knock, and knock-but none replies. (1) Translation from Vittorelli. WHAT WAS THE ORIGIN OF LOVE? THE « Origin of Love! »—Ah why That cruel question ask of me, And should'st thou seek his end to know & IMPROMPTU, IN REPLY TO A FRIEND. WHEN from the heart where Sorrow sits, Her dusky shadow mounts too high, And o'er the changing aspect flits, And clouds the brow, or fills the eye; Heed not that gloom, which soon shall sink : HEBREW MELODIES. THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB. I. THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. II. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, III. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 4. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; VI. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wall, SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS! SUN of the sleepless! melancholy star! |