Lays Of Ancient Virginia, And Other Poems Part 20

The earth is dreary, Sorrow's reign, My thoughts are weary, Come again.

The flowers upspringing, Bring me pain, My thoughts are winging To thee again.

Come to my sorrow, Come again, Give night a morrow, Yet again.

Oh! birds are singing Many a strain, The woodlands ringing, Come again.

Yet I am weeping, E'er with pain, Grief's vigil keeping, Come again.

The dawn gleams brightly O'er the plain, The airs come lightly O'er the main.

They ne'er shall wake thee, Lilly Lane, All things forsake thee, Lilly Lane.

I'll not bereave thee Lilly Lane!

I'll never leave thee, Lilly Lane.

On thy grave I'll mutter "Lilly Lane!"

With a frantic, dove-like flutter, "Lilly Lane!"

Around thy tomb I'll hover, Near the main, Like a bleeding dying plover, "Lilly Lane!"

A SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME.

To-day my gay and happy heart, Was lost in pleasant dreaming; And I had won a loving part In all the by-gone's seeming.

I saw that most renowned maid, Before her father falling, Those savage hearts, within the shade Of antique trees, appalling.

I saw the deep and gushing love, That fearful moment started, That murmur'd like a turtle dove, To cheating hope departed.

I saw the kind and gentle deeds, That gemm'd her after being That little camp, from sorest needs, And frequent slaughter, freeing.

I thought that she was kindly sent, In gracious G.o.d's foreknowing, To save from fatal detriment, This infant nation growing.

I saw the savage maiden's form With Culture's graces, glowing; In virgin beauty, bright and warm, Like vernal roses blowing.

I saw her sweetly, deeply smile On Rolfe beside her sitting, As o'er the neighboring stream the while The shades of eve were flitting.

I saw her wed in love beneath The forest's lofty awning; While white and dusk maids bring a wreath, Like night commixt with morning.

I saw the strange and novel fame, She left to song and story, Which down the future's track of flame, Beams forth with deathless glory.

FAREWELL TO ALBEMARLE.

Farewell, ye verdant hills and vales, Farewell thou rolling river, Whose waves flow onward to the sea, Returning, never, never.

From all thy scenes, I might have gone, I might in joy have parted, But since my love remaineth here, I wander broken-hearted.

I go from one with whom to part, Is grief that can't be spoken, From whom to rend my faithful heart, That heart, even now, is broken.

SHE WOULD HAVE IT SO.

I loved her; and beneath the moon, We met among the flowers of June; I gave her my all, my love's rich boon, I loved her, but we parted soon, She would have it so.

I loved her; through my span of life, She might have been my cherished wife; And I had striven, with ceaseless strife, To make her days with pleasures rife; She would not have it so.

I loved her; for she bent on me A smile and look of sorcery; Until my heart could not be free; Alas! that such deceit should be;-- But she would have it so.

I loved her; and my heart was broke, Beneath the heavy, crushing stroke; As 'neath the lightning dies the oak When she in scorn and anger spoke; She would have it so!

TO FANNIE.

Fair maid, in those beloved eyes, The dream of pensive beauty lies, The radiance when the day grows less, The charm of twilight loveliness.

Those eyes are mirror of thy soul; As in the waves that deeply roll, The sun and moon and stars are seen, Reflected with undimmed sheen.

Thus in the depths of those fair eyes, I see the brightness of the skies, I would my image there might shine In orbs so blessed and divine.

ON HEARING THAT MY LOVE WAS ANGRY.

Sweet love! and wast thou angry then, And did a lovely frown, O'ershade that brow of whitest pearl, That cheek of softest down?

Nay, be not so; thou can'st not be, Less lovely to my sight; Though darkness shade the cliff and vale, Yet starry is the night!

TO A POET.