Lays Of Ancient Virginia, And Other Poems Part 18

And when thou sang'st the "Soldier Boy,"

I heard the drum and fife, The bugle's blast, the cannon's boom, The keen, sharp shriek for life!

And when thou sang'st with gentle voice, The "Bonnie Breast Knots" too; 'Twas like the words of peace and love, That follow war's wild crew.

And when I saw thee lightly whirl Through that ecstatic dance, My happy spirit flew with thee, As in a joyous trance.

Sweet maiden, when thou pa.s.s'd'st away, I felt a soft regret; And oh! thy genius and thy charms, I never shall forget.

Sweet maiden, fare thee--fare thee well!

Thou sing'st and flitt'st away-- A thing that charmed us, and shall be, Remembered through life's day.

MONTICELLO.

On Monticello's cla.s.sic brow, I stood and gazed around on earth; And feelings of no common glow, Within my bosom had their birth.

The glorious memory of the past, When valor, single-handed, won, The brightest boon for man at last, Freedom for every sire and son.

I thought how strangely, wildly rung That dictum in the world's dull ear, Breathed with a firm, unfaltering tongue, "No tyrant's pride shall flourish here."

But, look upon yon humble tomb, Oh! does it hide some humble one?

Now, part the mountain's leafy bloom,-- Is this the grave of JEFFERSON?

Huge shame confound this long neglect, That thus o'ershades his resting place, Who, living, sought to raise, protect, And fit, this home of Adam's race.

Who guards that most ill.u.s.trious tomb, And welcomes there the pilgrim's love?

A stranger to his native soil, Stands sentinel his grave above.

Virginia! oh! retrieve thy name, No longer scorn thy source of pride; Pay double tribute to their fame, Whose shades so long in vain have sighed.

Rear monuments to tell the world, The virtues of departed worth, Till yonder sun in night be hurled, The glorious heritage of earth.

Then through the ages that succeed, The hearts shall come from every sh.o.r.e, To wors.h.i.+p where their relics lie, Whose glorious fame can die no more.

TO MARIAN.

Dear Marian, thou art far away, And I'm disconsolate to-day, In sorrow sighing; My pleasant thoughts lie like the leaves, O'er whose cold heads aeolus grieves, Complaining, dying.

'Tis weary, dreary, dreary here, The yellow leaves are falling sere, With mournful rustling, The little bird has hush'd his song, And close the greener boughs among He's coldly nestling.

How sad the high wind's sounding dirge, As 'twere old ocean's moaning surge, Around our dwelling; I well may tell the reason why, But oh! the teardrops in mine eye Are swiftly swelling.

The world is sad, and I am so; Does Marian hear my plaint? Oh, no; She's far away.

Ye envious streams--ye hateful hills!

Ah me! what cruel anguish thrills My heart to-day!

But soon may Fortune learn to smile Upon her sad and helpless child, And let us meet, No more to part, no more to sigh, But happy live, and happy die, In union sweet!

THE SPIRIT OF POESY.

O! radiant spirit, bright Poesy, where Is thy dwelling, thou seraph of beauty, so fair In the rainbow thou laughest at sweet summer's even, And thou ridest the tempest that rends earth and heaven; On the lawn gemm'd with dew, 'mid the forest in green, On the mountains' huge brows, in the valleys between, In the blue rolling ocean, in sky, earth and air-- Thy spiritual loveliness broods every where, Thou quaffest morn's tears in a chalice of light, And thy form in the splendor of Phoebus flames bright; Thou kissest the rose-bud so fay-like and fair, And the lightnings thou wreathest in thy dark-streaming hair!

Thy melody trills in the silver rill's flow, And it roars in the earthquake that thunders below; All heaven is fill'd with thy presence divine, All earth in the smile of thy beauty doth s.h.i.+ne: From heaven to earth, and from earth swift to heaven, Thy golden-wheel'd chariot is viewlessly driven: And thou robest all things in the raiment of love, By fingers of seraphim woven above-- And the song which thou sing'st is the melody flowing, Like droppings of nectar, from angel lips glowing-- And G.o.d is the Fountain, O, Poesy bright, Whose waters now flood me with mystic delight!

THE WATER.

The water, see it, leaps from the mountain's high brow, Like a roll of smooth silver, and laughingly now See, it skips, like a child, through the valley so green, Throwing beauty and blithesomeness over the scene.

See the dew-drops of morning that glitter so bright, Drunk up by the leaves and the flowers with delight; See the fair delicate fays, for their heavenly feast, In colors more lovely their light limbs have drest.

See the dark-rus.h.i.+ng showers exultingly come Down, down to the earth from their high, cloudy home!

How the countless drops twinkle, and dance, and rejoice, Then creep to the ground with a tremulous voice!

Oh the water, the water, it s.h.i.+neth so bright!

It falls like a beautiful raining of light, And it gladdeneth the earth, and the sky, and the sea, 'Till the world laugheth out in her fullness of glee!

See it all smileth fairest--'tis beauty above, In Heaven and Earth 'tis but beauty and love; With harmony dancing--a scene like a dream, When Heaven comes down on the spirit to beam!

Oh the water! the water! man, quaff its bright flow; It will gladden thy spirit, but give thee no woe: As it fresh'neth the world, so its rills will impart Health, gladness, and sweetness and joy to thy heart.

But oh, the foul demons (horrific to tell) Have mixed a fierce poison, the wild flame of h.e.l.l; And it killeth each fairest and loveliest thing That the earth ever knew in her bridal of Spring.

'Tis the wild stream of h.e.l.l! oh it burneth the soul, It scatheth, and blighteth, and killeth the whole; Yet, a Vulture, it gnaweth the quivering liver, Forever consuming, but satiate never.

Ay, it fills the wide world with the wailing and woe, That liken the shrieking of Devils below: And the words of the eloquent never can tell, The abyss of this anguish, this foretaste of h.e.l.l.

Oh G.o.d of the curst! turn this fierce stream away, In trembling, and misery, and anguish we pray; Make the waters of Temperance flow wide o'er the Earth, Till she s.h.i.+ne as of yore in the smile of her birth!

BLANNERHa.s.sETT'S ISLAND.

On beautiful Ohio when you sail, And view its banks, forever green and fair, And feel the falling sunlight, and the gale That freshly stirs that wild and western air; You may observe a lovely island there, A greenery spot, enclosed by waters bright, A spot of beauty, and a spot most rare; There the fair summer moon sheds softest light, And summer stars look down from heaven's cerulean height.

Around that isle, a mournful story clings, That ever wakes a soft and sad regret, In those who feel the sorrow which it brings, All swift and fresh upon the memory yet, Of those who sail beyond it, brightly set, An emerald within that crystal flood; Its sad, strange name a feeling doth beget That wakes a sigh in bosoms meek and good, And leaves the thoughtful sprite in no ungrateful mood.