Lays Of Ancient Virginia, And Other Poems Part 22

Hark! the deep-toned, solemn peal!

Again it strikes the air!

My trembling accents steal To join the anthem there.

I strive to lift my mind To G.o.d's most holy throne; And, with my thought refined, To think on Heaven alone.

But earth-born love intrudes And brings me back to earth; To dreamy solitudes My spirit wanders forth:

To walk with one, a youth, With bright and sunny hair, Whose words are only truth, Whose love is heavenly fair.

G.o.d! forgive my grievous sin!

G.o.d! forgive my erring love!

Write not my sentence in Thine awful scroll above!

G.o.d! forgive thy creature's love, Who only loves too well!

Let not that virtue prove My doleful doom to h.e.l.l.

But make my pa.s.sion less-- Its burning purify; And make it meet to bless My spirit in the sky.

A PORTRAIT.

In those mild eyes, there is a light Which dwells not with the evil; and A calm repose upon thy features, which Says thou art innocent. Around thee gleaming There is a robe of more than loveliness, Of form, and face, and hair: it is the charm Of most majestic Goodness; which exalts An earth-born frame into an angel's stature.

Oh! if this world had many like thyself, It were a heaven for blessed ones to dwell in.

HALLOWED GROUND.

What bids the soul of man to gaze, Upon a spot of earth, As a sun of focal rays?

The spell of human worth!

The spot where human virtue stood, And struck for holy truth, Still stirs the world's ecstatic blood, A thing of mighty youth!

When can the name of Marathon, Fall powerless, on the soul; Whilst thoughts of right, or injury, done, Along its fibres, roll?

Can Waterloo grow trite by time, Or Yorktown fail to fire, Man's breast, with hatred most sublime, To wrong, till time expire?

What hallows thus the hills of Greece, And flings that light o'er Rome, Which when her very fragments cease, Still crowns her history's dome?

'Tis truth's great warfare bravely fought, That hallows in the core, A mount--a plain--a barren spot-- With fame which dies no more.

And when can earth forget to glow, Beside each glorious shrine?

Not till yon stars shall dart below, And sun shall cease to shine.

TO SPRING.

Hail, beauteous maiden, gentle spring!

I see thee slowly move, On lowering wings, on yon green hill From yon blue fields above.

Hail, beauteous Spring! my bosom swells With joy to feel thee near, Thy joyful advent now dispels The winter, dark and drear.

Hail, beauteous Spring, the meads are green, The lordly elms rejoice; Yon river flashes in the light, The springs send up a voice.

The blue-bird sings thy welcome sweet From yonder blooming tree, The redbreast pours his simple note, A tribute glad, to thee.

The cuckoo comes to join thy train, With his melodious lay, Until his song, a rapture! runs O'er all thy pleasant way.

Hail, heavenly Spring! a thousand throats, Re-echo with thy praise; Thou bring'st the time of flowers and light Of bright and cloudless days.

Hail, beauteous earth! thou art the type Returning with each year, To tell us of another land Whose sky is always clear.

All hail, bright spring, celestial maid!

Who fill'st my singing heart; But never tongue or lyre shall speak The Transport which thou art!

ON HEARING THAT MY LOVE WAS PROUD.

And art thou proud, my darling love?

Thus should it ever be; For beauty hath, the clearest right, Of sovereign majesty.

Oh! art thou proud, my darling love!

Then not to do thee wrong, Thou e'er shalt reign the sole, bright queen, Within my heart and song.

TO LIZZIE.

Oh, Lizzie, when I read your card, Which you had printed in the paper, Wherein you said your case was hard, My fancy cut a glorious caper.

I said, that is a prudent fair Who has the true idea of living, And would not on the "desert air,"

Her fragrance still be giving.

So I at once resolved to try So conquer all my vacillation, And fix my wand'ring heart and eye On only you, in all creation.