And the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumnbeauty stood,
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen.
And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream
And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died,
The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my
In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief:
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
THE SONG OF THE BRAVE MAN.
The brave man's song resounds on high,
Like echoing bell or organ tone!
Whoe'er can boast of bravery,
Not gold rewards but song alone.
Thank God that I can sing and raise
My voice to sing the brave man's praise.
The thaw-wind came from southern sea,
And damp o'er Italy it passed:
As from the wolf the cattle flee,
So fled the clouds before the blast.
It scoured o'er fields, it burst through woods, And freed from ice the lakes and floods.
On lofty mountains melts the snow,—
A thousand cataracts resound;
An ocean whelms the vallies low,
The land stream leaps o'er wall and mound;
High roll the waves on every side,
Unwieldy ice-rocks choke the tide.
On pillars and on arches, made
Of freestone, rising from the flood
A goodly bridge across was laid,
And mid-way a small dwelling stood:
Here lived a toll-man, child, and wife,-
Oh toll-man, toll-man, fly for life!
The waters roared: not far aloof
The angry tempest fiercely howled;
The toll-man sprang upon his roof,
And gazed upon it as it scowled.
Merciless Heaven!-wind and wave-
We all are lost, for who can save!
The ice-rocks tumbled, crash on crash,
From either shore,-both here and there;
From either shore the waters dash,
And down both rock and pillar tear.
The trembling toll-man, wife, and child
Shrieked louder than the tempest wild.
The ice-rocks trembled, fall on fall,
Both here and there along the shore :-
They burst the bridge's shattered wall,
Pillar by pillar down they bore.
The ruin onward made its way,-
Have mercy Heaven on us this day!
Aloft, upon the further brink,
A crowd stands gazing, great and small:
They scream and wring their hands, but shrink
From the deliverance, one and all;
The trembling toll-man, child, and wife
Through wind and tempest shrieked for life.
When soundest thou the brave man's fame,
Like echoing bell or organ-tone—
My noble song, Oh give his name,
And let it stand aloft, alone!
Destruction is within a span :-
Come to the rescue, thou brave man!
A count of noble blood and worth,
Now gallops up on courser bold,
What in his hand is proffered forth?
It is a purse brim-full of gold.
Two hundred pieces are his prize,
Who to the rescue instant flies.
Who is the man will strive to save?
Is it the count?-My song say on.
By highest heaven the count is brave,
But still I know a braver one.
Come forth, brave man, come forth with speed ;
Ruin approaches-great their need.
Higher and higher swelled the flood,
Louder and louder roared the wind,
Colder and colder chilled the blood-
Oh! where shall they preserver find!
Pillar on pillar, arch and wall,
One after other crash and fall.
Halloo! halloo! Oh who will dare?
The count the noble prize uprears;—
They hear, they tremble, and they stare,
But out of thousands none appears:
In vain the toll-man, child, and wife
Mid wind and waters shrieked for life.
Behold a lowly peasant there,
With walking staff, starts forward now :-
His clothing is but coarse and bare,
But high and noble is his brow,—
He heard the count the boon proclaim,
And saw how near destruction came.
And boldly, in God's name, he leapt
Into the nearest fishing-bark,
And with good speed his way he kept
Through whirlpool, storm, and billow dark.
But ah! the boat is far too small
At once to bear and save them all.
But thrice he urged his little bark
Through whirlpools, rocks, and torrent's fall,
And thrice with manly sinews stark,
Rowed happily to save them all.—
And scarcely were they safe and well,
When the last tottering ruin fell.
Who is the brave man? Who is he?
Say on my song; his name unfold.
And did he risk his life to be
The master of that glittering gold?
Had the proud count ne'er promised boon,
Would he have risked his life as soon?
"Here," cried the count,
Receive the prize: 'tis thine, 'tis thine!"
'Twas nobly done, but hear the end.
The count a lofty soul might bear,
But higher, heavenlier, beat the heart
Of the brave man who stood apart.
"stout-hearted friend,
"My life for wealth shall ne'er be sold,
Though poor I am, contented still;
But to the toll-man give your gold:
His all is lost; his lot is ill."
Thus spoke he in firm heart-felt tone,
Then turned his back and he was gone.
THE CORAL GROVE-Percival.
Deep in the wave is a coral grove,
Where the purple mullet and gold fish rove;
Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue,
That never are wet with falling dew,
But in bright and changeful beauty shine,
Far down in the green and glassy brine.
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow;
From coral rocks the sea-plants lift
Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow;
The water is calm and still below,
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