Oh! only ye who long have cherished
Some darling passion of the heart,

And have beheld that passion perished,-
Or into dark despair depart;

To ye

alone can I impart,

For ye alone can fitly feel

The sullen pang, the sick'ning smart,

Like the dull stab of blunted steel,-
I feel, and feel the more that I must it conceal.

Thou streaming star of dewy morn!
That risest o'er the cliffs afar,

How do I love thee!-thou wert born
In those bright climes of love and war
Of which I sing;-beloved star!
Often above the mountain's brow,

In rosy light thy royal car

Shall on my vigils rise, and thou

Shalt light me to my couch from dearest dreams, as now.

TO A SNOWDROP.

I.

Prophetic Spirit of the Spring!

With thy sweet mien and mantle white,
From the dark soil awakening,

Like a young seraph clad in light,

Slow stealing through the gloom of night:
Or, like a thought of purest gladness,
White winged and with a cloud-like flight,
Breaking across the brow of madness,

Most beautiful thou art-yet full of pleasing sadness.

Whence comest thou?

II.

What fairies wove

In radiant halls that robe of thine?

Where didst thou learn that look of love

That deeply thrills this heart of mine,
Downcast, and only not divine?

And why at this bleak winter season,

In summer robes thou lov'st to shine,

(If to dear Nature 'tis no treason)

Sweet floweret of the snow! I fain would ask the reason?

H

III.

Why, whilst all other flowers are sleeping,
Dost thou on earth alone awake?

Behind the snow-clod softly creeping,

In open glade or shelter'd brake,

How darest thou the caves forsake

Where through the storm-months thou hast slumber'd?
And how thy pathway dost thou make

Through fearful toils and foes unnumber'd,

By frost and snow and sleet, and bitter winds encumber'd?

IV.

The first, the first sweet flower of spring,

The herald of the opening year!

Oh! how thy praises shall I sing,

By all so loved-to me most dear?

For thy soft mien and bosom clear
Wake in my heart young hopes of pleasure;
The coming hours of spring shall rear,

Of love and joy and thoughtful leisure,

And Nature's charms unroll'd before me without measure.

V.

Whilst I gaze on thee I behold,

As in a dream, the spring-tide flowers,
With all their fragrant charms unroll'd,
Filling with beauty all the bowers
Where fancy spends her sunny hours;
All the rich garniture of spring,
The perfume following April showers,
The songs around the grove that ring,

And the deep sea that doth his sonorous anthem sing.

VI.

Lo! trooping in thy train I see,
O'er meadows green and sunny hills,
With gleesome faces following thee,
Young groups of laughing daffodils,
That dance beside the jocund rills;
And the bright crocus sweetly shining
Through the soft tear her eye that fills,

The cowslip 'neath the thorn reclining,

And the young primrose, pale, as she for love were pining.

VII.

There is the fragrant hawthorn blossom,

The purple hyacinth is there;

The lily bares her snowy bosom,

The living joy to feel and share,

That like a spirit fills the air;

The pansy and shy violet,

The cuckoo-flower, and kingcup fair,

And celandine are at thy feet,

And drooping heather-bells shed round their odours sweet.

VIII.

The wild rose wanders from the brake,

The daisy quits the mountain side,

The queen-like lilies leave the lake,

And corallines the heaving tide,

And in thy train, sweet floweret! glide;
Whilst, as they gaily troop along,

Rich music floats on every side,

Pour'd from the warblers sweet that throng

From every vernal wood to swell the choral song.

IX.

Emblem of confidence and hope,
And sacred sweet humility!

Well do thy tender petals cope
With the wild winds that visit thee;

A lesson dost thou teach to me,
To trust in him who reigns above;

The God of man and flower and tree,

Who in his simplest works doth prove

His wisdom and his might-his tenderness and love!