He cannot know what rocks and quicksands may Await him, on the future's shipless main; But, thank'd be memory! there are treasures still, Which the triumphant mind holds subject to its will. XII. CUBA. What sounds arouse me from my slumbers light? "Land ho! all hands ahoy!"—I'm on the deck. "Tis early dawn. The day-star yet is bright. A few white vapoury bars the zenith fleck. And lo! along the horizon, bold and high, The purple hills of Cuba! hail, all hail! Isle of undying verdure, with thy sky Of purest azure! Welcome, odorous gale! O! scene of life and joy! thou art array'd In hues of unimagined loveliness— Sing louder, brave old mariner! and aid My swelling heart its rapture to express; For from enchanted memory never more [shore! Shall fade this dawn sublime, this bright, celestial THE DAYS THAT ARE PAST. WE will not deplore them, the days that are past; We have lived till we find them illusive as dreams; Wealth has melted like snow that is grasp'd in the hand, And the steps we have climb'd have departed like sand; Yet shall we despond while of health unbereft, In our spirits the impulse of gladness and praise? But, by faith unforsaken, unawed by mischance, On hope's waving banner still fix'd be our glance; And, should fortune prove cruel and false to the last, Let us look to the future and not to the past! THE MARTYR OF THE ARENA. HONOUR'D be the hero evermore, Who at mercy's call has nobly died! Echoed be his name from shore to shore, With immortal chronicles allied! Verdant be the turf upon his dust, Bright the sky above, and soft the air! His eulogium to the future years! Shall deserve a greater fame than he! Which the Coliseum once beheld? Fill'd with gazing thousands were the tiers, With the city's chivalry and pride, When two gladiators, with their spears, Forward sprang from the arena's side. Rang the dome with plaudits loud and long, As, with shields advanced, the athletes stoodWas there no one in that cager throng To denounce the spectacle of blood? Aye, TELEMACHUS, with swelling frame, Saw the inhuman sport renew'd once more: Few among the crowd could tell his name For a cross was all the badge he wore! Yet, with brow elate and godlike mien, Stepp'd he forth upon the circling sand; And, while all were wondering at the scene, Check'd the encounter with a daring hand. "Romans!" cried he-"Let this reeking sod Never more with human blood be stain'd! Let no image of the living GOD In unhallow'd combat be profaned! Ah! too long has this colossal dome Fail'd to sink and hide your brutal shows! Here I call upon assembled Rome Now to swear, they shall forever close!" Parted thus, the combatants, with joy, Mid the tumult, found the means to fly; In the arena stood the undaunted boy, And, with looks adoring, gazed on high. Peal'd the shout of wrath on every side; Every hand was eager to assail! Slay him! slay!" a hundred voices cried, Wild with fury-but he did not quail! Hears he, as entranced he looks above, Strains celestial, that the menace drown? Sees he angels, with their eyes of love, Beckoning to him, with a martyr's crown? Fiercer swell'd the people's frantic shout! Launch'd against him flew the stones like rain! Death and terror circled him about EPES SARGENT. But he stood and perish'd-not in vain! Not in vain the youthful martyr fell! Then and there he crush'd a bloody creed! And his high example shall impel Future heroes to as great a deed! Stony answers yet remain for those Who would question and precede the time! In their season, may they meet their foes, Like TELEMACHUS, with front sublime! SUMMER IN THE HEART. THE cold blast at the casement beats, The snow whirls through the empty streets- Sit down, old friend! the wine-cups wait; In our hearts 'tis summer still! For we full many summer joys And greenwood sports have shared, The rocks, the streams we dared! Back, back o'er years of ill, My heart flies to that happy place, Where it is summer still! Yes, though, like sere leaves on the ground, Our early hopes are strown, And cherish'd flowers lie dead around, The verdure is not faded quite, Not mute all tones that thrill; For, secing, hearing thee to-night, In my heart 'tis summer still! Fill up the olden times come back! With light and life once more We scan the future's sunny track, From youth's enchanted shore! Gone is the winter's angry gloom In our hearts 'tis summer still! THE FUGITIVE FROM LOVE. Is there but a single theme Quick, the rosy nectar bring; "IO BACCHE" I will sing. Ha! Confusion! every sip But reminds me of her lip. PALLAS! give me wisdom's page, And awake my lyric rage; Love is fleeting; love is vain; I will try a nobler strain. O, perplexity! my books But reflect her haunting looks! JUPITER! on thee I cry! Take me and my lyre on high! Lo! the stars beneath me gleam! Here, 0, poet! is a theme. Madness! She has come above! Every chord is whispering "Love!" THE NIGHT-STORM AT SEA 'Tis a dreary thing to be Tossing on the wide, wide sea, When the sun has set in clouds, And the wind sighs through the shrouds, With a voice and with a tone Like a living creature's moan! Look! how wildly swells the surge Round the black horizon's verge! See the giant billows rise From the ocean to the skies! While the sea-bird wheels his flight O'er their streaming crests of white. List! the wind is wakening fast! All the sky is overcast! Lurid vapours, hurrying, trail In the pathway of the gale, As it strikes us with a shock That might rend the deep-set rock! Falls the strain'd and shiver'd mast! Spars are scatter'd by the blast! And the sails are split asunder, As a cloud is rent by thunder; And the struggling vessel shakes, As the wild sea o'er her breaks. Ah! what sudden light is this, Blazing o'er the dark abyss? Lo! the full moon rears her form Mid the cloud-rifts of the storm, And, athwart the troubled air, Shines, like hope upon despair! Every leaping billow gleams With the lustre of her beams, And lifts high its fiery plume Through the midnight's parting gloom While its scatter'd flakes of gold O'er the sinking deck are roll'd. Father! low on bended knee, Humbled, weak, we turn to thee! Spare us, mid the fearful fight Of the raging winds to-night! Guide us o'er the threatening wave: Save us!-thou alone canst save! |