THE DREAMING CHILD. 67 From thee no love hath gone; thy mind's young eye A weary searcher for a viewless home: Nor hath thy sense been quicken'd unto pain, Yet now, on billows of strange passion toss'd, Awake! they sadden me—those early tears, Awful to watch, ev'n rolling through a dream, Come from the shadow of those realms unknown, Where now thy thoughts dismay'd and darkling rove; Come to the kindly region all thine own, The home, still bright for thee with guardian love. Happy, fair child! that yet a mother's voice THE CHARMED PICTURE. Oh! that those lips had language!-Life hath pass'd COWPER. THINE eyes are charm'd-thine earnest eyes— Thou image of the dead! A spell within their sweetness lies, A virtue thence is shed. Oft in their meek blue light enshrined, And sometimes there my wayward mind And sometimes Pity-soft and deep, And oh my spirit needs that balm, And in the night-hour's haunted calm, Look on me thus, when hollow praise For one true tone of other days, One glance of love like thine! THE CHARMED PICTURE. Look on me thus, when sudden glee In vain, in vain!-too soon are felt Sweet face that o'er my childhood shone, Whence is thy power of change, Thus ever shadowing back my own, The rapid and the strange? 69 Whence are they charm'd-those earnest eyes? -I know the mystery well! In mine own trembling bosom lies The spirit of the spell! Of Memory, Conscience, Love, 'tis born- On thy pure thoughtful brow! PARTING WORDS. One struggle more and I am free. - BYRON. LEAVE me, oh! leave me! - unto all below That I may part in peace! Leave me!thy footstep, with its lightest sound, The very shadow of thy waving hair, Wakes in my soul a feeling too profound, Too strong for aught that loves and dies, to bearOh! bid the conflict cease! I hear thy whisper-and the warm tears gush The past looks on me from thy mournful eye, PARTING WORDS. 71 Shut out the sunshine from my dying room, Doth our own spring make happy music now, If I could but draw courage from the light Bearing all strength away! Leave me! thou com'st between my heart and Heaven! I would be still, in voiceless prayer to die! - Why must our souls thus love, and then be riven? -Return! thy parting wakes mine agony! -Oh, yet awhile delay! |