"To-morrow shall the traveller come
Who late beheld me blooming;
His searching eye shall vainly roam
The dreary vale of Lumin."
With eager gaze and wetted cheek
My wonted haunts along,
Thus, faithful maiden! thou shalt seek
The youth of simplest song.
But I along the breeze shall roll
The voice of feeble power;
And dwell, the moon-beam of thy soul,
In slumber's nightly hour.
IF, while my passion I impart,
You deem my words untrue,
O place your hand upon my heart-
Feel how it throbs for you.
Ah no! reject the thoughtless claim,
In pity to your lover:
That thrilling touch would aid the flame
It wishes to discover.
How long will ye round me be swelling,
O ye blue-tumbling waves of the sea?
Not always in caves was my dwelling,
Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree.
Through the high-sounding halls of Cathlóma,
In the steps of my beauty I stray'd;
The warriors beheld Ninathoma,
And they blessed the white-bosom'd maid.
A ghost! by my cavern it darted!
In moon-beams the spirit was drest
For lovely appear the departed
When they visit the dreams of my rest.
* How long will ye roll around me, blue-tumbling waters of ocean? My dwelling was not always in caves, nor beneath the whistling tree. My feast was spread in Torthoma's Hall. The youths beheld me in my loveliness. They blessed the dark-haired Ninathoma.-BERRATHON.
But disturb'd by the tempest's commotion,
Fleet the shadowy forms of delight-
Ah cease, thou shrill blast of the ocean,
To howl through my cavern by night.
THOUGH rous'd by that dark visir, Riot rude
Have driven our Priestley o'er the ocean swell;
Though Superstition and her wolfish brood
Bay his mild radiance, impotent and fell;
Calm in his halls of brightness he shall dwell!
For lo! Religion, at his strong behest,
Starts with mild anger from the papal spell,
And flings to earth her tinsel-glittering vest,
Her mitred state and cumbrous pomp unholy;
And Justice wakes to bid th' oppressor wail
Insulting aye the wrongs of patient Folly;
And from her dark retreat, by Wisdom won,
Meek Nature slowly lifts her matron veil
To smile with fondness on her gazing son!
Ан, cease thy tears and sobs, my little life!
I did but snatch away the unclasp'd knife:
Some safer toy will soon arrest thine eye,
And to quick laughter change this peevish cry!
Poor stumbler on the rocky coast of woe,
Tutor'd by pain each source of pain to know!
Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire :
Alike the good, the ill offend thy sight,
And rouse the stormy sense of shrill affright!
Untaught, yet wise! 'mid all thy brief alarms
Thou closely clingest to thy mother's arms,
Nestling thy little face in that fond breast,
Whose anxious heavings lull thee to thy rest.
Man's breathing miniature! thou mak'st me sigh--
A babe art thou-and such a thing am I!
To anger rapid, and as soon appeas'd,
For trifles mourning, and by trifles pleas'd,
Break Friendship's mirror with a tetchy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure's
altar glow!
O thou that rearest with celestial aim
The future seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice holy Faith! whatever thorns I meet,
As on I totter with unpractis'd feet,
Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee,
Meek nurse of souls thro' their long infancy!
THOU gentle look, that didst my soul beguile, Why hast thou left me? Still in some fond
Revisit my sad heart, auspicious smile!
As falls on closing flowers the lunar beam :
What time, in sickly mood, at parting day,
I lay me down and think of happier years;
Of joys, that glimmer'd in Hope's twilight ray,
Then left me darkling in a vale of tears.
O pleasant days of hope-for ever flown!
Could I recall you?-But that thought is vain.
Availeth not Persuasion's sweetest tone
To lure the fleet-wing'd travellers back again :
Yet fair, though faint, their images shall gleam
Like the bright rainbow on an evening stream.
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