From some sweet paradise afar,
Thy music wanders, distant, lostWhere Nature lights her leading star And love is never, never cross'd.
Oh gentle gale of Eden bowers,
If back thy rosy feet should roam,
To revel with the cloudless Hours
In Nature's more propitious home,
Name to thy loved Elysian groves,
That o'er enchanted spirits twine,
A fairer form than cherub loves,
And let the name be CAROLINE.
SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways, Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love.
A violet by a mossy stone,
Half-hidden from the eye !
-Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!
SHE was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller betwixt life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit, still and bright
With something of an angel light.
O NIGHTINGALE! thou surely art
A creature of a fiery heart :-
These notes of thine-they pierce and pierce ;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine
Had helped thee to a Valentine;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent Night;
And steady bliss, and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful Groves.
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed-and cooed;
And somewhat pensively he wooed :
He sang of love with quiet blending,
Slow to begin and never ending;
Of serious faith and inward glee;
That was the song-the song for me!
PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE COLLEGE OF EDINBURGH.
THE THREE SEASONS OF LOVE.
WITH laughter swimming in thine eye,
That told youth's heartfelt revelry;
And motion changeful as the wing
Of swallow wakened by the Spring;
With accents blythe as voice of May,
Chaunting glad Nature's roundelay;
Circled by joy, like planet bright,
That smiles 'mid wreaths of dewy light,-
Thy image such in former time,
When thou, just entering on thy prime,
And woman's sense in thee combined
Gently with childhood's simplest mind,
First taught'st my sighing soul to move
With hope towards the heaven of love.
Now years have given my Mary's face A thoughtful and a quiet grace :
Though happy still,-yet chance distress
Hath left a pensive loveliness;
Fancy hath tamed her fairy gleams,
And thy heart broods o'er home-born dreams!
Thy smiles, slow-kindling now and mild,
Shower blessings on a darling child;
Thy motion slow, and soft thy tread,
As if round thy hush'd infant's bed!
And when thou speak'st, thy melting tone,
That tells thy heart is all my own,
Sounds sweeter, from the lapse of
With the wife's love, the mother's fears!
By thy glad youth and tranquil prime
Assured, I smile at hoary Time!
For thou art doom'd in age to know
The calm that wisdom steals from woe;
The holy pride of high intent,
The glory of a life well spent.
When earth's affections nearly o'er,
With Peace behind, and Faith before,
Thou render'st up again to God,
Untarnish'd by its frail abode,
Thy lustrous soul,-then harp and hymn,
From bands of sister seraphim,
Asleep will lay thee, till thine eye
Open in Immortality.
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