"Alas! my boy! thy gentle grasp is on me, And silver cords again to earth have won me, "How the lone paths retrace, where thou wert playing So late along the mountains at my side? And I, in joyous pride, By every place of flowers my course delaying, Beholding thee so fair! "And, oh! the home whence thy bright smile hath parted! Will it not seem as if the sunny day Turned from its door away, While, through its chambers wandering, weary-hearted, I languish for thy voice, which past me still, Went like a singing rill? "Under the palm-trees thou no more shall meet me, When from the fount at evening I return, With the full water-urn! Nor will thy sleep's low, dovelike murmurs greet me, And watch for thy dear sake! “And thou, wilt slumber's dewy cloud fall round thee, Without thy mother's hand to smooth thy bed? Wilt thou not vainly spread Thine arms, when darkness as a veil hath wound thee, To fold my neck; and lift up in thy fear, A cry which none shall hear? "What have I said, my child?—will He not hear thee And, in the hush of holy midnight near thee, "I give thee to thy God!-the God that gave thee, A well-spring of deep gladness to my heart! And, precious as thou art, And pure as dew of Hermon, He shall have thee, 66 And thou shalt be His child! Therefore, farewell!-I go! my soul may fail me, As the stag panteth for the water-brooks, Yearning for thy sweet looks! But thou, my firstborn! droop not, nor bewail me,— The Rock of Strength,-farewell!" THE CAPTIVE KNIGHT. 'Twas a trumpet's pealing sound! And the knight look'd down from the Paynim's tower, Through the pass beneath him wound. Cease awhile, clarion! clarion wild and shrill, Cease! let them hear the captive's voice,-be still! "I knew 'twas a trumpet's note ! And I see my brethren's lances gleam, And their pennons wave, by the mountain stream, Cease awhile, clarion! clarion wild and shrill, "I am here, with my heavy chain! And I look on a torrent, sweeping by, And an eagle, rushing to the sky, And a host, to its battle plain! Cease awhile, clarion! clarion wild and shrill, Cease! let them hear the captive's voice,-be still! “Must I pine in my fetters here? With the wild wave's foam, and the free bird's flight, And the tall spears glancing on my sight, And the trumpet in mine ear? Cease awhile, clarion! clarion wild and shrill, Cease! let them hear the captive's voice,-be still! "They are gone! they have all pass'd by! Sound again, clarion! clarion pour thy blast! THE TRUMPET. THE trumpet's voice hath roused the land, A hundred banners to the breeze Their gorgeous folds have cast; And, hark! was that the sound of seas? A king to war went past! The chief is arming in his hall, The peasant by his hearth; And rises from the earth! The mother on her firstborn son Looks with a boding eye;— They come not back, though all be won, Whose young hearts leap so high. The bard hath ceased his song, and bound The falchion to his side; E'en for the marriage altar crowned, The lover quits his bride! And all this haste, and change, and fear, By earthly clarion spread! How will it be when kingdoms hear The blast that wakes the dead? THE RETURN TO POETRY. ONCE more the eternal melodies from far, Woo me like songs of home: once more discerning THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. WHAT hid'st thou in thy treasure caves and cells? We ask not such from thee. Yet more, the depths have more!—what wealth untold, Won from ten thousand royal argosies. Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main! Earth claims not these again! |