Perchance thou hast seen this sight, and then,
As I, at thy years, might do,
Pass'd carelessly by, nor turned again
That scathed wreck to view :
But now I can draw from that mould'ring tree,
Thoughts which are soothing and dear to me.
O smile not! nor think it a worthless thing,
If it be with instruction fraught;
That which will closest and longest cling,
Is alone worth a serious thought!
Should ought be unlovely which thus can shed
Grace on the dying, and leaves not the dead?
Now, in thy youth, beseech of HIM
Who giveth, upbraiding not,
That his light in thy heart become not dim,
And his love be unforgot;
And thy God, in the darkest of days, will be Greenness, and beauty, and strength to thee! BERNARD BARTON.
A Mother's love-how sweet the name!
What is a mother's love?
-A noble, pure, and tender flame,
Enkindled from above;
To bless a heart of earthly mould;
The warmest love that can grow cold;
This is a mother's love.
To bring a helpless babe to light,
Then, while it lies forlorn,
To gaze upon that dearest sight,
And feel herself new-born;
In its existence lose her own,
And live and breathe in it alone;
This is a mother's love.
Its weakness in her arms to bear;
To cherish on her breast,
Feed it from love's own fountain there,
And lull it there to rest;
Then while it slumbers watch its breath,
As if to guard from instant death;
This is a mother's love.
To mark its growth from day to day,
Its opening charms admire,
Catch from its eye the earliest ray
Of intellectual fire;
To smile and listen while it talks,
And lend a finger when it walks;
This is a mother's love.
And can a mother's love grow
Can she forget her boy?
His pleading innocence behold,
Nor weep for grief-for joy?
A mother may forget her child,.
While wolves devour it on the wild;
-Is this a mother's love?
Ten thousand voices answer "No!"
Ye clasp your babes and kiss;
Your bosoms yearn, your eyes o'erflow:
Yet, ah! remember this;
The infant, rear'd alone for earth,
May live, may die,-to curse his birth;
-Is this a mother's love?
A parent's heart may prove a snare;
The child she loves so well,
Her hand may lead, with gentlest care,
Down the smooth road to hell;
Nourish its frame,-destroy its mind;
Thus do the blind mislead the blind,
Ev'n with a mother's love.
Blest infant! whom his mother taught Early to seek the Lord,
And pour'd upon his dawning thought
The day-spring of the word;
This was the lesson to her son.
-Time is eternity begun :
Behold that mother's love.
Blest mother! who in wisdom's path, By her own parent trod,
Thus taught her son to flee the wrath,
And know the fear of God:
Ah! youth, like him enjoy your prime,
Begin Eternity in time,
Taught by that mother's love.
That mother's love?-how sweet the name !
What was that mother's love?
The noblest, purest, tenderest flame,
That kindles from above
Within a heart of earthly mould,
As much of heaven as heart can hold,
Nor through eternity grows cold;
This was that mother's love.
Hark! from yon cauldron-cave, the battle-sound Of fire and water warring under ground;
Rack'd on the wheels of an ebullient tide,
Here might some spirit, fall'n from bliss abide,
Such fitful wailings of intense despair,
Such emanating splendours fill the air.
-He comes, he comes; the infuriate Geyser springs
Up to the firmament on vapoury wings;
With breathless awe the mounting glory view;
White whirling clouds his steep ascent pursue.
But lo! a glimpse ;-refulgent to the gale,
He starts all naked through his riven veil;
A fountain column, terrible and bright,
A living, breathing, moving form of light:
From central earth to heaven's meridian thrown,
The mighty apparition towers alone;
Rising, as though for ever he could rise,
Storm and resume his palace in the skies.
All foam, and turbulence, and wrath below;
Around him beams the reconciling bow;
Signal of peace, whose radiant girdle binds,
('Till nature's doom,) the waters and the winds;
While mist and spray, condensed to sudden dews,
The air illumine with celestial hues,
As if the bounteous sun were raining down
The richest gems of his imperial crown.
In vain the spirit wrestles to break free,
Foot-bound to fathomless captivity;
A power unseen, by sympathetic spell
For ever working,-to his flinty cell,
Recalls him from the ramparts of the spheres;
He yields, collapses, lessens, disappears ;
Darkness receives him in her vague abyss,
Around whose verge light froth and bubbles hiss,
While the low murmurs of the refulgent tide
Far into subterranean silence glide,
The eye still gazing down the dread profound,
When the bent ear hath wholly lost the sound.
—But is he slain and sepulchred?- -Again
The deathless giant sallies from his den,
Scales with recruited strength the ethereal walls,
Struggles afresh for liberty,-and falls.
Yes, and for liberty the fight renew'd,
By day, by night, undaunted, unsubdued,
He shall maintain, 'till Iceland's solid base
Fail, and the mountains vanish from its face.
Prince of the fall'n! Around thee sweep
The billows of the burning deep;
Above thee low'rs the sullen fire;
Beneath thee bursts the flaming spire;
And on thy sleepless vision rise
Hell's living clouds of agonies.
But thou dost like a mountain stand,
The
spear un-lifted in thy hand:
Thy gorgeous eye---a comet shorn,---
Calm into utter darkness borne.
A naked giant, stern, sublime,
Arm'd in despair, and scorning Time.
On thy curl'd lip is throned disdain,
That may revenge, but not complain :
Thy mighty cheek is firm, tho' pale;
There smote the blast of fiery hail!
Yet wan, wild beauty lingers there,
The wreck of an archangel's sphere.
Thy forehead wears no diadem,
Thy King is in thy eyeball's beam,
Thy form is grandeur unsubdued,
Sole chief of Hell's dark multitude.
Thou prison'd, ruin'd, unforgiven!
Yet fit to master all---but Heaven.
HYMN OF THE CAPTIVE JEWS.
God of the Thunder! from whose cloudy seat
The fiery winds of Desolation flow:
Father of vengeance! that with purple feet,
Like a full wine-press, treads the world below:
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey,
Nor withering Famine walks his blasted way,
Till thou the guilty land hast sealed for woe.
God of the Rainbow! at whose gracious sign
The billows of the proud their rage suppress :
Father of Mercies! at one word of thine
An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness!
And fountains sparkle in the arid sands,
And timbrels ring in maiden's glancing hands,
And marble cities crown the laughing lands,
And pillared temples rise thy name to bless.
O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord,
The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate;
Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian sword,
Even her foes wept to see her fallen state;
And heaps her ivory palaces became.
Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame,
Her temple sank amid the smouldering flame,
For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate.
O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam,
And the sad city lift her crownless head;
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