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WHILE GAZING ON THE MOON'S LIGHT.
A moment from her smile I turn'd
But, too far,
Each proud star,
Much more dear
That mild sphere,
While brighter eyes unheeded play,
Which bless my home and guide my way! The day had sunk in dim showers,
But midnight now, with lustre meek, Illumined all the pale flowers, Like hope, that lights a mourner's cheek
I said (while
The moon's smile
6. The moon looks
On many brooks,
For many a lover looks to thee,
One Mary in the world for me.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
Night closed around the conqueror's way,
And lightnings show'd the distant hill, Where those who lost that dreadful day
Stood, few and faint, but fearless still!
The soldier's hope, the patriot's zeal,
For ever dimm'd, for ever cross'd;
When all but life and honour's lost !
And valour's task, moved slowly by,
Should rise, and give them light to die !
Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss ;
Oh! who would live a slave in this ?
LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.
My heart's chain wove!
Was love, still love!
And days may come
Of milder, calmer beam,
As love's young dream!
As love's young dream!
When wild youth's past ;
To smile at last;
A joy so sweet,
In all his noon of fame,
His soul-felt flame,
The one loved name!
Oh! that hallow'd form is ne'er forgot,
Which first-love traced;
On memory's waste!
As soon as shed ;
'Twas morning's winged dream;
On life's dull streamı !
On life's dull stream.
WHEN TWILIGHT DEWS.
When twilight dews are falling soft
Upon the rosy sea, love!
Has lighted me to thee, love!
Ah! dost thou gaze at even,
Thou'lt yet be mine in Heaven?
There's not a flower I see, love!
Some joy I've lost with thee, love!
When, friends and foes forgiven,
May turn to smiles in Heaven!
THE YOUNG MAY-MOON.
The young May-moon is beaming, love!
How sweet to rove
Through Morna's grove,
Then awake! the heavens look bright, my dear! 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear!
And the best of all ways
To lengthen our days, Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
Now all the world is sleeping, love!
And I, whose star,
More glorious far,
Or, in watching the flight
Of bodies of light, He might happen to take thee for one, my dear!
THE MINSTREL BOY.
The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him ;
And his wild harp slung behind him.
“Though all the world betrays thee,
One faithful harp shall praise thee !"
The minstrel fell! but the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under!
For he tore its chords asunder;
Thou soul of love and bravery!
They shall never sound in slavery !”.
I SAW THY FORM IN YOUTHFUL PRIME.
I saw thy form in youthful prime,
Nor thought that pale decay
And waste its bloom away, Mary!
Which fleets not with the breath ;
Than in thy smile of death, Mary!
As streams that run o'er golden mines,
Yet humbly, calmly glide,
Within their gentle tide, Mary!
Thy radiant genius shone,
Seem'd worthless in thy own, Mary!
If souls could always dwell above,
Thou ne'er hadst left that sphere;
We ne'er had lost thee here, Mary!
Though sairest forms we see,
Than to remember thee, Mary!
SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers are round her sighing;
For her heart in his grave is lying!