Thou changest not-but I am changed, Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged; And the grave stranger, come to see The play-place of his infancy, Has scarce a single trace of him, Who sported once upon thy brim. The visions of my youth are past- Too bright, too beautiful to last.
I've tried the world-it wears no more The colouring of romance it wore. Yet well has nature kept the truth She promised to my earliest youth; The radiant beauty shed abroad On all the glorious works of God, Shows freshly, to my sober'd eye, Each charm it wore in days gone by.
A few brief years shall pass away, And I, all trembling, weak, and gray, Bow'd to the earth, which waits to fold My ashes in the embracing mould, (If haply the dark will of fate Indulge my life so long a date) May come for the last time to look Upon my childhood's favourite brook, Then dimly on my eyes shall gleam The sparkle of thy dancing stream; And faintly on my ear shall fall Thy prattle current's merry call; Yet shalt thou flow as glad and bright As when thou met'st my infant sight.
And I shall sleep-and on thy side, As ages after ages glide,
Children their early sports shall try, And pass to hoary age and die.
But thou, unchanged from year to year, Gaily shalt play and glitter here;
Amid young flowers and tender grass Thy endless infancy shalt pass; And, singing down thy narrow glen, Shalt mock the fading race of men.
Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admiral of the Orient, remained at his post (in the battle of the Nile,) after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned; and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder.
THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm; A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though child-like form.
The flames roll'd on-he would not go, Without his father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud-Say, father, say If yet my task is done?'
He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son.
'Speak, father!' once again he cried,
If I may yet be gone!'
And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair;
And look'd from that lone post of death, In still yet brave despair-
And shouted but once more aloud,
My father! must I stay?'
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild, They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound- The boy-oh! where is he?
-Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strow the sea!
O, WITH What glory comes and goes the year! The buds of spring-those beautiful harbingers Of sunny skies and cloudless times-enjoy Life's newness, and earth's garniture spread out; And when the silver habit of the clouds Comes down upon the autumn sun, and, with A sober gladness, the old year takes up His bright inheritance of golden fruits, A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.
There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellow richness on the cluster'd trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillar'd clouds. Morn, on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing; and in the vales
The gentle wind-a sweet and passionate wooer- Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life
Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimson'd, And silver beach, and maple yellow-leaved,- Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the way-side a-weary. Through the trees The golden robin moves; the purple finch, That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds, A winter bird,-comes with its plaintive whistle, And pecks by the witch-hazel; whilst aloud, From cottage roofs, the warbling blue-bird sings; And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke, Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.
O, what a glory doth this world put on For him, that, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well perform'd, and days well spent! For him the wind, ay, the yellow leaves, Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go
To his long resting-place without a tear.
SHE was my idol. Night and day to scan The fine expansion of her form, and mark The unfolding mind like vernal rose-bud start To sudden beauty, was my chief delight. To find her fairy footsteps follow me, Her hand upon my garments, or her lip Long seal'd to mine, and in the watch of night The quiet breath of innocence to feel Soft on my cheek, was such a full content Of happiness, as none but mothers know.
Her voice was like some tiny harp that yields To the slight finger'd breeze, and as it held Brief converse with her doll, or playful soothed The moaning kitten, or with patient care Conn'd o'er the alphabet-but most of all Its tender cadence in her evening prayer Thrill'd on the ear like some ethereal tone Heard in sweet dreams.
But now alone I sit, Musing of her, and dew with mournful tears Her little robes, that once with woman's pride I wrought, as if there were a need to deck What God had made so beautiful. I start, Half fancying from her empty crib there comes A restless sound, and breathed the accustom'd words "Hush! Hush thee, dearest." Then I bend and
As though it were a sin to speak to one Whose home is with the angels.
And yet I wish I had not seen the pang That wrung her features, nor the ghastly white Settling around her lips. I would that Heaven Had taken its own, like some transplanted flower, Blooming in all its freshness.
Be still, my heart! what could a mother's prayer, In all the wildest ecstasy of hope,
Ask for its darling like the bliss of heaven?
THE CAPTIVE OF ALHAMA.
THE Moslem star was on the wane, Eclipsed the Paynim powers,
And the haughty lord of Christian Spain, Besieged Granada's towers:
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