While such a gentle creature haunts The youth obeyed, and sought for game Where, deep in silence and in moss, But once, in autumn's golden time, The crescent moon and crimson eve The deer, upon the grassy mead, He raised the rifle to his eye, A sudden echo, shrill and sharp, Away into the neighbouring wood Next evening shone the waxing moon As sweetly as before; The deer upon the grassy mead Was seen again no more. But ere that crescent moon was old, Now woods have overgrown the mead, There shrieks the hovering hawk at noon, And prowls the fox at night. THE WANING MOON. I've watched too late; the morn is near; Oh, hopes and wishes vainly dear, Even while your glow is on the cheek, See where upon the horizon's brim, Lies the still cloud in gloomy bars; The waning moon, all pale and dim, Late, in a flood of tender light, She floated through the ethereal blue, A softer sun, that shone all night And still thou wanest, pallid moon! The encroaching shadow grows apace; Heaven's everlasting watchers soon Oh, Night's dethroned and crownless queen! Be shed on those whose eyes have seen Shine thou for forms that once were bright, For sages in the mind's eclipse, For those whose words were spells of might, But falter now on stammering lips! In thy decaying beam there lies Full many a grave on hill and plain, Of those who closed their dying eyes In grief that they had lived in vain. Another night, and thou among The spheres of heaven shalt cease to shine, All rayless in the glittering throng Whose lustre late was quenched in thine. Yet soon a new and tender light From out thy darkened orb shall beam, And broaden till it shines all night On glistening dew and glimmering stream. THE STREAM OF LIFE. OH silvery streamlet of the fields, For thee the rains of spring return, Oh Stream of Life! the violet springs But once beside thy bed; But one brief summer, on thy path, The dews of heaven are shed. Thy parent fountains shrink away, And close their crystal veins, And where thy glittering current flowed The dust alone remains. |