THE PAINTED CUP. To swell the reddening fruit that even now But thou art of a gayer fancy. Well- 335 A DREAM. I HAD a dream—a strange, wild dream- And even yet its shadows seem To linger in my waking sight. Earth, green with spring, and fresh with dew, And bright with morn, before me stood; And airs just wakened softly blew On the young blossoms of the wood. Birds sang within the sprouting shade, Bees hummed amid the whispering grass, And children prattled as they played Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass. Fast climbed the sun: the flowers were flown, There played no children in the glen; For some were gone, and some were grown To blooming dames and bearded men. A DREA M. 'Twas noon, 'twas summer: I beheld Woods darkening in the flush of day, And that bright rivulet spread and swelled, A mighty stream, with creek and bay. And here was love, and there was strife, Now stooped the sun-the shades grew thin; And sunburnt groups were gathering in, From the shorn field, its fruits and sheaves. The river heaved with sullen sounds; The chilly wind was sad with moans; Black hearses passed, and burial-grounds Grew thick with monumental stones. Still waned the day; the wind that chased The woods were stripped, the fields were waste; And of the young, and strong, and fair, A lonely remnant, gray and weak, 337 Lingered, and shivered to the air Ah! age is drear, and death is cold! "Twas thus I heard the dreamer say, And bade her clear her clouded brow; "For thou and I, since childhood's day, Have walked in such a dream till now. "Watch we in calmness, as they rise, The changes of that rapid dream, And note its lessons, till our eyes Shall open in the morning beam." THE ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. THE ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. HERE are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines, And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds With pale blue berries. In these peaceful shades- My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, Oh FREEDOM! thou art not, as poets dream, Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, 339 |