THE SNOWDROP. SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH OF AN INFANT, FEBRUARY, 1843. ON Flora's lap there now appears A harbinger of Spring, That never fails o'er darkened years Its modest charms to fling. In lightsome green it breaks the ground, By fostering Nature led; And having faintly glanced around, Hangs down its beauteous head. Exposed to storms by day and night, This little graceful flower Assumes a garb of spotless white, And dares the boisterous hour. Relentless ills descending fast, Take vengeance on its birth; And death ere long with final blast So, like the Snowdrop, does the face Of infant beauty shine, When on its placid brow we trace No little darkling line. But gathering tempests oft invade The sweetest of such bloom, Till all of loveliness is laid To moulder in the tomb. Yet He to whom the mourner flies, This consolation gives: The flower, when withered, truly dies The soul for ever lives! IN THE CHOICE OF A THEME. IN the choice of a theme shall I fathom the deep, Where the Shark on his merciless embassy roams? Shall I muse on the brink of a Lake in its sleep, Or shuddering stand where the Cataract foams? Shall I traverse some African waste to behold The King of the forest repose in his lair ; Or follow him into some sheltering fold, And witness the death of his prey in despair? Rather let me in solitude wander beneath The bleak mountainous cliffs of our own British isle, Whence the Eagle is proudly accustomed to wreath His ascent in the light of the Sun's passing smile. THE EAGLE. On the sky-hidden rock Of the desolate wild, Upon which the dread shock Of the earthquake has piled Dizzy crag upon crag, The fierce Eagle alights,- And from off his own heights, With a vision unclouded as that of the star, Which, at peace in its orbit, surveys from afar The earth's busy expanse He descries at a glance The light breath of the Stag, As it quivering plays To the tremulous sigh, Through its devious ways To the ocean on high. His imperial reign Stretches over the heath And the bountiful plain ; And the subjects beneath Him conduce to his spoil. Like a mail-covered King, On impervious wing, He sweeps o'er his dominions in martial array, And foreshadows the coming of sudden dismay. Then collapsing, he drops Like a plummet, nor stops To evade the recoil; But transfixing his prize With a warrior's skill, In a moment it lies Irreversibly still! |