And meekly Man must bend his knee
On Nature's temple-floor, if he
Would master her philosophy.-
It is not given alone to flowers
To brighten with their hue the hours;
But with a silence all sublime,
They chronicle the march of Time,
As month on month, in transience fast,
Commingles with the spectral past.
Some shall endure for seasons; they
Shall blossom on the breath of Spring;
Shall bourgeon gloriously the blue,
Refulgent, sunny Summer through ;
And only shall the feebler ray
Of Autumn find them withering:
Others shall with the crescent Moon
Grow up in pride, to fade as soon :
Yea! not a few shall with the day
That saw them burst to bloom-decay;
Even like the babe, that opes its eye
To light, and seems but born to die.
"By hieroglyphic hue and sign,
Flowers shall the heart and soul divine,
And all the feelings that engage
Man's restless thoughts from youth to age:
This blossom shall note infancy,
Lifting in earliest spring its eye
To dewy dawn, and drinking thence
The purity of innocence;
That-vigorous youth, which from the hye
Of summer skies, imbibes its blue,
And bursts abroad, as if to say
Can lusty strength like mine decay?'
This-Life's autumnal date, which takes A colouring from the breeze which shakes The yellowing woods; and that-old age, Which comes when Winter drifts the fields With snow, and, prostrate to his rage Tyrannical, bows down and yields.
"Yea! all the passions that impart
Their varied workings to the heart,
That stir to hate or calm to love,
That glory or debasement prove,
In flowers are imaged :-O ! discern
In them recondite homilies; learn
The silent lessons which they teach;
For clearer vision shall explain,
Hereafter, what pertains to each,
And that nought made was made in vain !"
As melts in music, far aloof,
Amid the chancel's galleried roof,
The organ's latest tone; as dies
The glorious rainbow, ray by ray,
Leaving no trace on the blue skies,
So sank that voice, that form away.
And what of the bewilder'd Poet,
On whom had fallen this flowery vision? Cruel it seems, yet Truth must show it,— He started from his dream Elysian ; But if 'twas at an Angel's calling,
Sure 'twas a fallen one; his eyes And ears were shut from Paradise, To listen to the watchman bawling!
THIS garland of fair flowers, by me
Fondly wreathed, I send to thee,
Rhodoclea!
Lily, and love-cup are there,
Anemone with dewy hair,
Freshest violets dark-blue,
And the moist narcissus too,
Rhodoclea!
Being crown'd with these, aside
Cast all vain, unmeaning pride,
Rhodoclea!
Cast vainglorious pride away;
Alike the pageants of a day,
Thou dost cease, and so do they,
Rhodoclea!
THE sun was setting in the summer west
With golden glory, 'mid pavilions vast
Of purple and gold; scarcely a zephyr breathed;
The woods in their umbrageous beauty slept;
The river with a soft sound murmured on ;
Sweetly the wild birds sang; and far away
The azure-shouldered mountains, softly lined,
Seemed like the boundaries of Paradise.
Soft fell the eve: my wanderings led me on
To a lone river bank of yellow sand,-
The loved haunt of the ousel, whose blithe wing
Wanton'd from stone to stone,—and, on a mound
Of verdurous turf with wild-flowers diamonded,
(Harebell and lychnis, thyme and camomile,)
Sprang in the majesty of natural pride
An Eglantine-the red rose of the wood-
Its cany boughs with threatening prickles arm'd,
Rich in its blossoms and sweet-scented leaves.
The wild-rose has a nameless spell for me;
And never on the road-side do mine eyes
Behold it, but at once my thoughts revert
To schoolboy days: why so, I scarcely know;
Except that once, while wandering with my mates,
One gorgeous afternoon, when holiday
To Nature lent new charms, a thunder-storm
O'ertook us, cloud on cloud- —a mass of black,
Dashing at once the blue sky from our view,
And spreading o'er the dim and dreary hills
A lurid mantle.
We fled, of elms; and from the rushing rain
And hail found shelter, though at every flash
Of the red lightning, brightly heralding
The thunder-peal, within each bosom died.
The young heart, and the day of doom seemed come.
At length the rent battalia cleared away-
The tempest-cloven clouds; and sudden fell
A streak of joyful sunshine.
Of wild-rose fell its beauty.
Around it still, and dismal;
On a bush
All was dark
but the beam
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