But I will not believe them-no, Science! to you
I have long bid a last and a careless adieu :
Still flying from Nature to study her laws,
And dulling delight by exploring its cause,
You forget how superior, for mortals below,
Is the fiction they dream to the truth that they
know.
Oh! who, that has ever had rapture complete,
Would ask how we feel it, or why it is sweet;
How rays are confused, or how particles fly
Through the medium refined of a glance or a sigh ! Is there one, who but once would not rather have known it,
Than written, with HARVEY, whole volumes upon it?
No, no-but for you, my invisible love,
I will swear you are one of those spirits that rove
By the bank where at twilight the poet reclines,
When the star of the west on his solitude shines,
And the magical fingers of Fancy have hung
Every breeze with a sigh, every leaf with a tongue!
Oh! whisper him then, 'tis retirement alone
Can hallow his harp or ennoble its tone;
Like you, with a veil of seclusion between,
His song to the world let him utter unseen,
And like you, a legitimate child of the spheres,
Escape from the eye to enrapture the ears!
Sweet spirit of mystery! how I should love,
In the wearisome ways I am fated to rove,
To have you for ever invisibly nigh,
Inhaling for ever your song and your sigh!
'Mid the crowds of the world and the murmurs
I might sometimes converse with my nymph of
And turn with disgust from the clamorous crew, To steal in the pauses one whisper from you.
Oh! come and be near me, for ever be mine,
We shall hold in the air a communion divine,
As sweet as, of old, was imagined to dwell
In the grotto of Numa, or Socrates' cell.
And oft, at those lingering moments of night,
When the heart is weigh'd down and the eyelid is light,
You shall come to my pillow and tell me of love,
Such as angel to angel might whisper above!
Oh spirit!—and then, could you borrow the tone
Of that voice, to my ear so bewitchingly known,
The voice of the one upon earth, who has twined
With her essence for ever my heart and my mind!
Though lonely and far from the light of her smile,
And exile and weary and hopeless the while,
Could you shed for a moment that voice on my ear,
I will think at that moment my CARA is near,
That she comes with consoling enchantment to
speak,
And kisses my eyelid and sighs on my cheek,
And tells me, the night shall go rapidly by,
For the dawn of our hope, of our heaven is nigh!
Sweet spirit! if such be your magical power,
It will lighten the lapse of full many an hour;
And let Fortune's realities frown as they will,
Hope, Fancy, and CARA may smile for me still!
WRITTEN AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE PRESENT WAR.
WHERE is now the smile that lighten'd
Every hero's couch of rest?
Where is now the hope that brighten'd
Honour's eye and Pity's breast?
Have we lost the wreath we braided
For our weary warrior men ?
Is the faithless olive faded,
Must the bay be pluck'd again?
Passing hour of sunny weather,
Lovely, in your light awhile,
Peace and Glory, wed together,
Wander'd through the blessed isle. And the eyes of Peace would glisten, Dewy as a morning sun,
When the timid maid would listen
To the deeds her chief had done.
Is the hour of dalliance over?
Must the maiden's trembling feet Waft her from her warlike lover To the desert's still retreat? Fare you well! with sighs we banish Nymph so fair and guest so bright; Yet the smile, with which you vanish, Leaves behind a soothing light!
Soothing light! that long shall sparkle O'er your warrior's sanguine way,
Through the field where horrors darkle,
Shedding Hope's consoling ray!
Long the smile his heart will cherish,
To its absent idol true,
While around him myriads perish,
Glory still will sigh for you!
To be the theme of every hour
The heart devotes to Fancy's power,
When her soft magic fills the mind
With friends and joys we've left behind,
And joys return and friends are near,
And all are welcomed with a tear !
In the mind's purest seat to dwell,
To be remember'd oft and well
By one whose heart, though vain and wild,
By passion led, by youth beguiled,
Can proudly still aspire to know
The feeling soul's divinest glow !
If thus to live in every part
Of a lone weary wanderer's heart;
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