That linger on the hills, and laugh the sun
Away with their white beauty,-yet remain ;
And now they vanish, and the soundless heaven
Hangs one deep mass of azure, where the stars,—
Bright pilgrims voyaging an unwaved sea,
Are strewn, and sparkle with incessant rays
Of mystery and meaning. Yet not heaven
When islanded with all those lustrous worlds,
Nor cradled Ocean with her waves uproll'd,
Nor moonlight in a shrouding wanness laid,
Is so enchanting, as that stillness felt,
And living with luxurious spell, through all,—
Silent as though a sound had never been;
Or, angels o'er her slumber spread their wings,
And breathed a Sabbath into Nature's soul!
SCHOOLBOYS RETURNING HOME.
OH! could the horses like their wishes speed,
Then short the road, and trav'lling swift indeed!
And mark yon blue-eyed rogue with daring brow,
Round his young heart what visions revel now!
Restless and wild-all gaze and wonder he,
Sky, coach, and road, he fills them all with glee!
How dark a myst'ry to his infant mind,—
The wheels advance—the bushes glide behind!
Full oft a school-room dream hath pictured this,
A journey home-the paragon of bliss!
This heal'd up many a birch-awaken’d smart,
Cut short the lesson, and reliev'd the heart :—
It comes at last― adieu to “ Propria Quæ,"
Long-rooted verbs and puzzling prosody,
The tame sky-blue, the task-recalling bell,
The stern infliction, and the piteous yell.-
A month of joy each parted woe repays,
With nights of fun and frolic-loaded days.
Not he who cross'd the Rubicon for Rome,
Plann'd more gigantic than these rogues for home :
What feats fantastic on the frozen lake!
What titt'ring mirth around the twelfth-night cake!
Then snugly seated round the parlour fire,
Hobgoblin tales shall Christmas eve inspire;
Or hand in hand by fond affection led,
They'll see the showman smooth the lion's head!
SPRINKLED With mountains, and with cloud-topp'd hills,
Helvetia swells majestic on my view,
In her primeval glory. Free-soul'd land!
Summer and winter for thy smile contend;
Witching thy prospects into fairy pomp
With beautiful abruptness; meadow'd, green,
And glowingly, thy undulating vales
Extend, while fawning vines the hills embrace,
And landscapes, laughing o'er the clouds, may hear
The tempest-howl in cavern gloom below.
And Winter hath his triumph; let the rush
And roar of cataracts, the darksome lakes
Convulsive rolling in the midnight storm,
The glaciers, billow'd into craggy ice,
And, chief o'er all, the silent Alp-king, rear'd
Like something risen from eternity!—
Let these declare thee for a land sublime,
Home of the dauntless! on thy patriot soul,
While sternness of simplicity can breathe
A Roman vigour, and the name of Tell
Haunts, like a hallowing spirit, every vale
And mountain-hollow, Time shall honour thee
When many an empire shall have pass'd away,
And forests wave where capitals are seen!
WHAT region of the sun
Is that, with green-dyed olive-groves, and fruits
Whose ripeness glitters on the laden boughs?
'Tis Spain! the glowing clime of Luxury,
Of Chivalry, and gray Romance: her hills,
Where aromatic odours scent the skies,
And bright-hued flowers, that in the mountain breeze
Of wafted freshness, dance their beauteous heads:
Her dark-eyed dames, and stately cavaliers,
Whose brows are haughty with the dreams of old;
Her pomp of palaces, her fountain-walks,
And many-templed capitals,—betray
Her form'd for Pleasure's undisputed reign.
And yet, on Hist'ry's most heroic page,
Hath Andalusia an undying seal,
And Arragon a print of fame :-her deeds
Of blood, and Inquisition's hellish rack,
For Vengeance, when the world's arraignment
Will rise; and woe for Tyrants when it comes!
SOLEMN REFLECTIONS ON THE PAST
SPOILER of hearts and empires, vanish'd Year!
Ere for eternity thy wings were spread,
Alone I listen'd to thy dark farewell.-
The moon was center'd in the cloudless heaven,
All pale as beauty on the brow of death;
And round about her, with attracted beam,
Grouped the mild stars :-the anarchy of day
Was hush'd, the turbulence of life becalm'd.
From where I stood, a vast and voiceless plain,-
A city, garmented with mellow light,
Lay visible; and, like romance in stone,
Shone gloriously serene !—all sounds were dead:
The dew-drop, stirless as a frozen tear,
Gleam'd on the verdure; not an air-tone rang;
The leaves hung tranced as the lids of sleep;
Around me Nature in devotion seem'd,
The Elements in adoration knelt,
Till all grew worship-from the heart of things
Material to the conscious soul of man!—
'Twas then, sepulchral, hollow, deep, and loud
The bell of midnight on the stillness burst,
And made the air one atmosphere of awe!—
Sublime of hours!-I thought on all the grave
Had buried since the infant year began:
What dreams, what agonies untold,
Dead as the hearts whose depth they once turmoil'd,
Lay motionless and mute!-of pomp in dust,
Of wither'd pride, of wealth from glory hurl'd,
Of lull'd ambition and appeased despair,-
Of each I dreamt; and, then, in sad array,
Pale visions of the Kings of thought arose !
The wise, the wondrous, the adored, whose deaths
Enrich'd eternity with added mind,
Sleep with the patriarchs now!
Monarchs of time, and ministers of thought! Felt in the frame of intellectual life,
As rolls the blood-tide through our breathing form.
Where is the palace of your spirits Now?
In what immensity are ye array'd
Imperishably pure? Was sabbath earth
In beauty but an archetype of heaven?
Your dreams, your hopes, your aspirations high,
The far-off shadows of each truth divine,
Are all absorb'd in beatific light,
And this world, like a rain-drop in the deep
Of time, for ever from the soul dissolved?-
Our craving passion for the unreveal'd,
Fain would it know to what vast height removed,
To what perfection of sublimest powers
Ye are ascended:-but the dazzled wish
Is driven earthward, and cold Nature cries
In tones as thrilling as the touch of death,-
"Back to thy clay, Mortality! and bend,
Like faith, before the infinite Unknown!"
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