CXV. "I'm weak and faint. O, let me stay!" "Nay, murderer, rest nor stay for thee!" The horse and man are on their way; He bears him to the sea. Hark! how the spectre breathes through this still night: See, from his nostrils streams a deathly light! CXVI. He's on the beach; but stops not there; He's on the sea!-that dreadful horse! LEE flings and writhes in wild despair!In vain! The spirit-corse Holds him by fearful spell ;-he cannot leap. Within that horrid light he rides the deep. CXVII. It lights the sea around their track The curling comb, and dark steel wave; There, yet, sits LEE the spectre's back Gone! gone! and none to save! They're seen no more; the night has shut them in. May Heaven have pity on thee, man of sin! CXVIII. The earth has wash'd away its stain; From the far south and north; The climbing moon plays on the rippling sea. -O, whither on its waters rideth LEE? THE OCEAN.* Now stretch your eye off shore, o'er waters made To cleanse the air and bear the world's great trade, To rise, and wet the mountains near the sun, Then back into themselves in rivers run, Fulfilling mighty uses far and wide, Through earth, in air, or here, as ocean-tide. Ho! how the giant heaves himself, and strains To think; then rests, and then puts forth again. roll'd. Before an ear did hear thee, thou didst mourn, *From "Factitious Life." At last thou didst it well! The dread command And though the land is throng'd again, O Sea! Strange sadness touches all that goes with thee. The small bird's plaining note, the wild, sharp call, Share thy own spirit: it is sadness all! How dark and stern upon thy waves looks down DAYBREAK. "The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened towards the sun-rising: the name of the chamber was Peace; where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang."-The Pilgrim's Progress. Now, brighter than the host that all night long, In fiery armour, far up in the sky Stood watch, thou comest to wait the morning's song, Thou comest to tell me day again is nigh, Star of the dawning! Cheerful is thine eye; And yet in the broad day it must grow dim. Thou seem'st to look on me, as asking why My mourning eyes with silent tears do swim; Thou bid'st me turn to Gon, and seek my rest in Him. Canst thou grow sad, thou say'st, as earth grows bright? And sigh, when little birds begin discourse With creatures innocent thou must perforce I feel its calm. But there's a sombrous hue, Still-save the bird that scarcely lifts its song- And ended, all alike, grief, mirth, love, hate, and wrong. But wrong, and hate, and love, and grief, and mirth Will quicken soon; and hard, hot toil and strife, With headlong purpose, shake this sleeping earth With discord strange, and all that man calls life. With thousand scatter'd beauties nature's rife; And airs and woods and streams breathe harmonies: Her dearest blessings, Nature seemeth sad; While I to earth am bound:-When will the heavens be mine? If man would but his finer nature learn, Of simpler things; could nature's features stern But not for this alone, the silent tear Ye holy thoughts, lift up my soul on high!— Ye hopes of things unseen, the far-off world bring nigh. And when I grieve, O, rather let it be How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft Be call'd my chamber, PEACE, when ends the day; And let me with the dawn, like PILGRIM, sing and pray. INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY.* O, LISTEN, man! A voice within us speaks the startling word, "Man, thou shalt never die!" Celestial voices *From the "Husband's and Wife's Grave." Hymn it around our souls: according harps, -O, listen, ye, our spirits! drink it in --The dying hear it; and as sounds of earth THE LITTLE BEACH-BIRD. I. THOU little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice? And with that boding cry O'er the waves dost thou fly? O! rather, bird, with me Through the fair land rejoice! II. Thy flitting form comes ghostly dim and pale, III. Thou call'st along the sand, and haunt'st the surge, Of waves that drive to shore, The Mystery-the Word. IV. Of thousands, thou both sepulchre and pall, His sinless glory fled. V. Then turn thee, little bird, and take thy flight Where the complaining sea shall sadness bring Thy spirit never more. Come, quit with me the shore, For gladness and the light Where birds of summer sing. THE MOSS SUPPLICATETH FOR THE He answer'd, earth no blessing had POET. THOUGH I am humble, slight me not, But love me for the Poet's sake; Forget me not till he's forgot; I, care or slight, with him would take. For oft he pass'd the blossoms by, And gazed on me with kindly look; Left flaunting flowers and open sky, And woo'd me by the shady brook. And like the brook his voice was low: So soft, so sad the words he spoke, That with the stream they seem'd to flow: They told me that his heart was broke ; They said, the world he fain would shun, And seek the still and twilight woodHis spirit, weary of the sun, In humblest things found chiefest good;That I was of a lowly frame, And far more constant than the flower, Which, vain with many a boastful name, But flutter'd out its idle hour; That I was kind to old decay, And wrapt it softly round in green, On naked root and trunk of gray Spread out a garniture and screen :They said, that he was withering fast, Without a sheltering friend like me; That on his manhood fell a blast, And left him bare, like yonder tree; That spring would clothe his boughs no more, Nor ring his boughs with song of birdSounds like the melancholy shore Alone were through his branches heard. Methought, as then, he stood to trace The wither'd stems, there stole a tearThat I could read in his sad face, Brother, our sorrows make us near. And then he stretch'd him all along, And laid his head upon my breast, Listening the water's peaceful song,How glad was I to tend his rest! Then happier grew his soothed soul. He turn'd and watch'd the sunlight play Upon my face, as in it stole, Whispering, Above is brighter day! He praised my varied hues-the green, The silver hoar, the golden, brown; Said, Lovelier hues were never seen: Then gently press'd my tender down. And where I sent up little shoots, He call'd them trees, in fond conceit: Like silly lovers in their suits He talk'd, his care awhile to cheat. I said, I'd deck me in the dews, Could I but chase away his care, And clothe me in a thousand hues, To bring him joys that I might share. To cure his lone and aching heartThat I was one, when he was sad, Oft stole him from his pain, in part. But e'en from thee, he said, I go, To meet the world, its care and strife, No more to watch this quiet flow, Or spend with thee a gentle life. And yet the brook is gliding on, And I, without a care, at rest, While back to toiling life he's gone, Where finds his head no faithful breast. Deal gently with him, world, I pray; Ye cares, like soften'd shadows come; His spirit, wellnigh worn away, Asks with ye but awhile a home. Be at his feet an humble sod; WASHINGTON ALLSTON. I LOOK through tears on Beauty now; (Once bright with joy) I see. Joy-waking Beauty, why so sad? Tell where the radiance of the smile is gone It is not on the mountain's breast; Nor on those gliding roundlets bright And alter'd to the living mind (The great high-priestess with her thought-born race Who round thine altar aye have stood and shined) The comforts of thy face. Why shadow'd thus thy forehead fair? Why on the mind low hangs a mystic gloom? And spreads away upon the genial air, Like vapours from the tomb? Why should ye shine, you lights above? Well, Beauty, may you mourning stand! The fine beholding eye whose constant look Was turn'd on thee is dark-and cold the hand That gave all vision took. Nay, heart, be still!-Of heavenly birth Is Beauty sprung.-Look up! behold the place! There he who reverent traced her steps on earth Now sees her face to face. RICHARD HENRY WILDE. [Born 1789. Died 1847.] I BELIEVE Mr. WILDE is a native of Baltimore, and that he was born about the year 1789.* His family are of Saxon origin, and their ancient name was DE WILDE; but his parents were natives of Dublin, and his father was a wholesale hardware merchant and ironmonger in that city during the American war; near the close of which he emigrated to Maryland, leaving a prosperous business and a large capital in the hands of a partner, by whose bad management they were in a few years both lost. The childhood of RICHARD HENRY WILDE Was passed in Baltimore. He was taught to read by his mother, and received instruction in writing and Latin grammar from a private tutor until he was about seven years old. He afterward attended an academy; but his father's affairs becoming embarrassed, in his eleventh year he was taken home and placed in a store. His constitution was at first tender and delicate. In his infancy he was not expected to live from month to month, and he suffered much from ill health until he was fifteen or sixteen. This induced quiet, retiring, solitary, and studious habits. His mother's example gave him a passion for reading, and all his leisure was devoted to books. The study of poetry was his principal source of pleasure, when he was not more than twelve years old. About this time his father died; and gathering as much as she could from the wreck of his property, his mother removed to Augusta, Georgia, and commenced there a small business for the support of her family. Here young WILDE, amid the Irudgery of trade, taught himself book-keeping, and became familiar with the works in general literature which he could obtain in the meagre libraries of the town, or from his personal friends. The expenses of a large family, and various other causes, reduced the little wealth of his mother; her business became unprofitable, and he resolved to study law. Unable, however, to pay the usual fee for instruction, he kept his design a secret, as far as possible; borrowed some elementary books from his friends, and studied incessantly, tasking himself to read fifty pages, and write five pages of notes, in the form of questions and answers, each day, besides attending to his duties in the store. And, to overcome a natural diffidence, increased by a slight impediment in his speech, he appeared frequently as an actor at a dramatic society, which he had called into existence for this Most of the facts in this notice of Mr. WILDE were communicated to me by an eminent citizen of Georgia, who has long been intimately acquainted with him. He was uncertain whether Mr. W. was born before the arrival of his parents in America, but believed he was DOL. purpose, and to raise a fund to establish a public library. All this time his older and graver acquaintances, who knew nothing of his designs, naturally confounded him with his thoughtless companions, who sought only amusement, and argued badly of his future life. He bore the injustice in silence, and pursued his secret studies for a year and a half; at the end of which, pale, emaciated, feeble, and with a consumptive cough, he sought a distant court to be examined, that, if rejected, the news of his defeat might not reach his mother. When he arrived, he found he had been wrongly informed, and that the judges had no power to admit him. He met a friend there, however, who was going to the Greene Superior Court; and, on being invited by him to do so, he determined to proceed immediately to that place. It was the March term, for 1809, Mr. Justice EARLY presiding; and the young applicant, totally unknown to every one, save the friend who accompanied him, was at intervals, during three days, subjected to a most rigorous examination. Justice EARLY was well known for his strictness, and the circumstance of a youth leaving his own circuit excited his suspicion; but every question was answered to the satisfaction and even admiration of the examining committee; and he declared that "the young man could not have left his circuit because he was unprepared." His friend certified to the correctness of his moral character; he was admitted without a dissenting voice, and returned in triumph to Augusta. He was at this time under twenty years of age. His health gradually improved; he applied himself diligently to the study of belles lettres, and to his duties as an advocate, and rapidly rose to eminence; being in a few years made attorney-general of the state. He was remarkable for industry in the preparation of his cases, sound logic, and general urbanity. In forensic disputation, he never indulged in personalities, then too common at the bar,-unless in self-defence; but, having studied the characters of his associates, and stored his memory with appropriate quotations, his ridicule was a formidable weapon against all who attacked him. In the autumn of 1815, when only a fortnight over the age required by law, Mr. WILDE was elected a member of the national House of Representatives. At the next election, all the representatives from Georgia, but one, were defeated, and Mr. WILDE returned to the bar, where he continued, with the exception of a short service in Congress in 1825, until 1828, when he again became a representative, and so continued until 1835. I have not room to trace his character as a politician very closely. On the occasion of the Force Bill, as it was called, he seceded from a majority of Congress, considering it a measure calculated to produce civil war, and justified himself in a speech of much eloquence. His speeches on the tariff, the relative advantages and disadvantages of a small-note currency, and on the removal of the deposites by General JACKSON, show what are his pretensions to industry and sagacity as a politician.* Mr. WILDE's opposition to the Force Bill and the removal of the deposites rendered him as unpopular with the JACKSON party in Georgia, as his letter from Virginia had made him with the nullifiers, and at the election of 1834 he was left out of Congress. This afforded him the opportunity he had long desired of going abroad, to recruit his health, much impaired by long and arduous public service, and by repeated attacks of the diseases incident to southern climates. He sailed for Europe in June, 1835, spent two years in travelling through England, France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Italy, and settled during three years more in Florence. Here he occupied himself entirely with literature. The romantic love, the madness, and imprisonment of Tasso had become a subject of curious controversy, and he entered into the investigation "with the enthusiasm of a poet, and the patience and accuracy of a case-hunter," and produced a work, published since his return to the United States, in which the questions concerning TASSO are most ably discussed, and lights are thrown upon them by his letters, and by some of his sonnets, which last are rendered into English with rare felicity. Having completed his work on Tasso, he turned his attention to the life of DANTE; and having learned incidentally one day, in conversation with an artist, that an authentic portrait of this great poet, from the pencil of GroTтo, probably still existed in the Bargello, (anciently both the prison and the palace of the republic,) on a wall, which by some strange neglect or inadvertence had been covered with whitewash, he set on foot a project for its discovery and restoration, which, after several months, was crowned with complete success. This discovery of a veritable portrait of DANTE, in the prime of his days, says Mr. IRVING,† produced throughout Italy some such sensation as, in England, would follow the sudden discovery of a perfectly well-authenticated likeness of SHAKSPEARE. Mr. WILDE returned to the United States in 1840, and was engaged in literary studies and in the practice of his profession until his death, in the summer of 1847, at New Orleans, where he held the professorship of law in the University of Louisiana. Mr. WILDE's original poems and translations are always graceful and correct. Those that have been published were mostly written while he was a member of Congress, during moments of relaxation, and they have never been printed collectively. Specimens of his translations are excluded, by the plan of this work. His versions from the Italian, Spanish, and French languages, are among the most elegant and scholarly productions of their kind that have been published. ODE TO EASE. I NEVER bent at Glory's shrine; I love thee, EASE, and only thee; Sister of Joy and Liberty, Like those where once I found thee, when, And made thee mistress of my choice! I chose thee, EASE! and Glory fled; *To show his standing in the House of Representatives, it may be proper to state, that, in 1834, he was voted for as Speaker, with the following result, on the first ballot:-R. H. WILDE, 64; J. K. POLK, 42; J. B. SUTHERLAND, 31; JOHN BELL, 30; scattering, 32. Ultimately Mr. BELL was elected. And when within the narrow bed, My senseless corpse is thrown: Nor willow, waving in the gale, Shall mark the grave I own. On History's page shall ever shine: + Knickerbocker Magazine, October, 1841. |