WHERE silent woods their dreary shade extend,
And give new horrors to the gloom of night,
If chance the swain his fault'ring footsteps bend,
In terror pausing for some friendly light,
Ilow gladsome beats his heart when thro' the glade
Piercing the clouds he sees the moon's mild ray,
Onward he springs, with light and vigorous tread,
And hails the empress of the fainter day.—
Thus, while thro' life's uncertain paths I rove,
Should dark despondence spread the gathering gloom, May Hope's soft lustre, streaming from above,
Dispel the bodings of a mournful doom;
And when sad friendship marks my parting breath, May Hope's benignant beam illume the vale of death.
HARRIOT! tho' sorrow and the injury
Of faithless man are mark'd upon my brow
Indelible; tho' on my sunken cheek
Of fading hues, usurping flushes speak
Health's slow decline; yet can I smile with thee,
And in thy converse all those pleasures know
Which tranquil minds, unwarp'd by worldly woe,
Taste unalloy'd in virtuous sympathy.
Harriot! the cheering influence of thy smiles,
From harass'd memory, sickening at the view
Of sorrows past, which my dark thoughts pursue,
When I révert, the lonely hours beguiles,
And calms my mind. So the afar-seen light
Greets the benighted wand'rer's weary'd sight.
HARRIOT, the smile that plays upon thy cheek,
Whene'er I greet thee; and the thrilling glance
Of those bright orbs, that wakes me from the trance
Where reason ponders, to my faint heart speak
Love's language; ardently could I rejoice
In such sweet tokens; but I fear thine eye
Has learnt to beam with Love's hypocrisy ;
And Siren wiles dwell in thy tuneful voice;
For now of studied eloquence thy tongue
Yields to the task, which, to my list'ning sense, Was wont of yore such magic charms dispense, That on thy lips my trembling spirit hung, Waiting new life.—Oh ! free me from my pain➡ Speaks as erewhile that I may love again,
Oн, gentle Sleep! could I command thy power
To bind my senses in thy magic sway,
And let unfetter'd Fancy freely play,
Through the wild mystery of the midnight hour;
Borne on thy softest pinions, I would fly,
And seek the downy bed of her I love;
O'er all her beauties, unresisted, rove,
And feast with charms my mind's enraptur'd eye.
Traitor beguil'd with hope of scenes like these,
Each night I court thy visionary reign;
Each night I sink but to Oblivion's ease,
Each morn but wake to absence and to pain.
Oh, Sleep! or bring me to her fancied arms,
Or crush not, by thy power, the memory of her charms.
LONELY my way, when last along this road,
Heart-sick and sad I journey'd; as I went,
Brooding o'er many a dream of discontent,
O'er many a cherish'd sorrow; nor bestow'd
Nature's gay scenes one charm to cheer my way:
For on the sunny scene, with reckless eye,
Sullen I gaz'd, and pass'd unheeding by!
Sweet are the sorrows of that distant day
To painless memory! O'er the self-same plain
I journey, blithe of heart; nor heed the wind
Sad moaning, nor the dark-descending rain:
For Hope with loveliest visions fills my mind,
Of ev'ry blameless joy by Virtue giv❜n,
Of Peace and Love-oh, realize them, Heav'n!
|