And what if, in the evening light, I would the lovely scene around I know, I know I should not see Nor would its brightness shine for me, But if, around my place of sleep, Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom, These to their softened hearts should bear And speak of one who cannot share Whose part, in all the pomp that fills Is that his grave is green ; And deeply would their hearts rejoice 40 50 A SONG OF PITCAIRN'S ISLAND COME, take our boy, and we will go The winds shall bring us, as they blow, And we will kiss his young blue eyes, Songs that were made of yore: I'll sing, in his delighted ear, And thou, while stammering I repeat, Thy country's tongue shall teach; 'Tis not so soft, but far more sweet Than my own native speech : Thou cam'st to woo me to be thine, I knew thy meaning-thou didst praise Ah! well for me they won thy gaze- By his white brow and blooming cheek, Come talk of Europe's maids with me, White foam and crimson shell. Come, for the soft low sunlight calls, We lose the pleasant hours; "Tis lovelier than these cottage walls,That seat among the flowers. And I will learn of thee a prayer To Him who gave a home so fair, A lot so blest as ours The God who made for thee and me ΙΟ 20 ૩૦ 40 THE FIRMAMENT AYE! gloriously thou standest there, With thy bright vault, and sapphire wall, Far, far below thee, tall grey trees And hills, whose ancient summits freeze The eagle soars his utmost height, Thou hast thy frowns-with thee on high His stores of hail and sleet. Thence the consuming lightnings break, Yet art thou prodigal of smiles Smiles sweeter than thy frowns are stern: The glory that comes down from thee The sun, the gorgeous sun, is thine, The pomp that brings and shuts the day, Thence look the thoughtful stars, and there ΙΟ 20 30 The sunny Italy may boast The beauteous tints that flush her skies, May thy blue pillars rise, I only know how fair they stand And they are fair-a charm is theirs, That earth, the proud green earth, has not— We gaze upon the calm pure sphere, Oh, when, amid the throng of men, Away from this cold earth, 'I CANNOT FORGET WITH WHAT FERVID DEVOTION' I CANNOT forget with what fervid devotion 40 I worshipped the visions of verse and of fame : Each gaze at the glories of earth, sky, and ocean, To my kindled emotions, was wind over flame. And deep were my musings in life's early blossom, 'Mid the twilight of mountain groves wandering long; How thrilled my young veins, and how throbbed my full bosom, When o'er me descended the spirit of song. 'Mong the deep-cloven fells that for ages had listened To the rush of the pebble-paved river between, Where the kingfisher screamed and grey precipice glistened, II All breathless with awe have I gazed on the scene; Till I felt the dark power o'er my reveries stealing, From the gloom of the thickets that over me hung, And the thoughts that awoke in that rapture of feeling Were formed into verse as they rose to my tongue. Bright visions! I mixed with the world, and ye faded; No longer your pure rural worshipper now; In the haunts your continual presence pervaded, Ye shrink from the signet of care on my brow. 20 In the old mossy groves on the breast of the mountain, Your pupil and victim to life and its tears! TO A MOSQUITO FAIR insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out, In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing, Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, Full angrily men hearken to thy plaint; I call thee stranger, for the town, I ween, II |