Tell me, O tell me, why you sit alone,
Singing so sweetly on the wave-washed stone?
And tell me, that if e'er I find my grave,
Beneath the ocean's wildly troubled wave,
That thou with weeds wilt strew my watery bed,
And hush the roaring billows o'er my head.
(Written in her fourteenth year.)
Sweet Solitude! I love thy silent shade,
I love to pause when in life's mad career;
To view the chequered path before me laid,
And turn to meditate-to hope, to fear.
'Tis sweet to draw the curtain on the world,
To shut out all its tumult, all its care;
Leave the dread vortex, in which all are whirled,
And to thy shades of twilight calm repair.
Yet, Solitude, the hand divine, which made
The earth, the ocean, and the realms of air, Pointed how far thy kingdom should extend, And bade thee pause, for he had fixed thee there
Then, when disgusted with the world and man,
When sick of pageantry, of pomp, and pride,
To thee I'll fly, in thee I'll seek relief,
And hope to find that calm the world denied.
ON THE BIRTH OF A SISTER.
(Written in her fifteenth year.)
Sweet babe, I cannot hope thou wilt be freed
From woes, to all, since earliest time, decreed;
But mayest thou be with resignation blessed,
To bear each evil, howsoe'er distressed.
May Hope her anchor lend amid the storm,
And o'er the tempest rear her angel form!
May sweet Benevolence, whose words are peace,
To the rude whirlwinds softly whisper "cease !"
And may Religion, Heaven's own darling child,
Teach thee at human cares and griefs to smile;
Teach thee to look beyond this world of woe,
To Heaven's high fount, whence mercies ever flow.
And when this vale of tears is safely passed,
When Death's dark curtain shuts the scene at last,
May thy freed spirit leave this earthly sod,
And fly to seek the bosom of thy God.
(Written in her fifteenth year.)
Methought, (unwitting how the place I gained,)
I rested on a fleecy, floating cloud
Far o'er the earth, the stars, the sun, the heavens,
And slowly wheeled around the dread expanse !
Sudden, methought, a trumpet's voice was heard,
Pealing with long, loud, death-awakening note,
Such note as mortal man but once may hear!
At that heart-piercing summons, there arose
A crowd fast pouring from the troubled earth!
The earth, that blackened speck alone seemed moved
By the dread note, which rushed,
Like pent-up whirlwinds, round Heaven's azure vault;
All other worlds, all other twinkling stars
Stood mute-stood motionless;
Their time had not yet come.
Yet, ever and anon, they seemed to bow
Before the dread tribunal;
And the fiery comet, as it blazed along,
Stopped in its midway course, as conscious of the power
Which onward ever, ever had impelled:
No other planet moved, none seemed convulsed,
Save the dim orb of earth!
Forth eddying rushed a crowd, confused and dark,
Like a volcano, muttering and subdued!
There came no sound distinct, but sighs and groans,
And murmurings half suppressed, half uttered!
All eyes were upward turned in wonder and in fear,
But soon, methought, they onward rolled
To the dread High One's bar,
As the tumultuous billows rush murmuring to the shore,
And all distinctions dwindled into naught.
Upward I cast my eyes;
High on an azure throne, begirt with clouds,
Sate the dread Indescribable!
He raised his sceptre, waved it o'er the crowd,
And all was calm and silent as the grave!
He rose; the cherubs flapped their snowy wings!
On came the rushing wind-the throne was moved,
And flew like gliding swan above the crowd!
Sudden it stopped o'er the devoted world!
The Judge moved forward 'mid his sable shroud,
Raised his strong arm with rolling thunders clothed,
Held forth a vial filled with wrathful fire,
Then poured the contents on the waiting globe!
Sudden the chain, which bound it to God's throne,
Snapped with a dire explosion!
On wheeled the desolate the burning orb
Swift through the heavens!
Down, down it plunged — then shot across the ex
Blazing through realms, where light had never pierced!
Down, down it plunged - fast wheeling from above,
Shooting forth flames, and sparks, and burning brands,
Trailing from shade to shade!
Then bounding, blazing-brighter than before,
It plunged extinguished in the chaotic gulf!
(Written in her fifteenth year.*)
When evening spreads her shades around,
And darkness fills the arch of heaven;
When not a murmur, not a sound
To Fancy's sportive ear is given;
When the broad orb of heaven is bright,
And looks around with golden eye;
When Nature, softened by her light,
Seems calmly, solemnly to lie;
* See Biographical Sketch.
Then, when our thoughts are raised above
This world, and all this world can give;
Oh, sister, sing the song I love,
And tears of gratitude receive.
The song which thrills my bosom's core,
And hovering, trembles, half afraid;
O sister, sing the song once more
Which ne'er for mortal ear was made.
'T were almost sacrilege to sing
Those notes amid the glare of day;
Notes borne by angels' purest wing,
And wafted by their breath away.
When sleeping in my grass-grown bed,
Should'st thou still linger here above,
Wilt thou not kneel beside my head,
And, sister, sing the song I love?
(Written in her fifteenth year.)
Am I in fairy land? or tell me, pray,
To what love-lighted bower I've found my way?
Sure luckless wight was never more beguiled
In woodland maze, or closely-tangled wild.
And is this Cupid's realm? if so, good bye!
Cupid, and Cupid's votaries, I fly;
No offering to his altar do I bring,
No bleeding heart--or hymeneal ring,
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