THE EVE OF DEATH. IRREGULAR. I. SILENCE of death-portentous calm, I see, I see, on the dim mist borne, I His spear will forsake its hated rest, And the widow'd wife of Larrendill will beat her naked breast. II. O'er the smooth bosom of the sullen deep, No softly ruffling zephyrs fly; But Nature sleeps a deathless sleep, For the hour of battle is nigh. Not a loose leaf waves on the dusky oak, Strike, oh, ye bards! the melancholy harp, For this is the eve of death. III. Behold, how along the twilight air The shades of our fathers glide! No gale around its coolness flings, And, hark! how the harp's unvisited strings Sound sweet, as if swept by a whispering breeze! 'Tis done! the sun he has set in blood! He will never set more to the brave; THANATOS. OH! who would cherish life, Where glooms and tempests cloud the fairest day; Conceal'd, the snake lies feeding on its prey, Where pit-falls lie in every flowery way, And sirens lure the wanderer to their wiles! Hateful it is to me, Its riotous railings and revengeful strife; I'm tired with all its screams and brutal shouts Sleepy Death, I welcome thee! Death is the best, the only cure, Carve a stately monument: Then thereon my statue lay, With hands in attitude to pray, And angels serve to hold my head, Duly too at close of day, Let the pealing organ play; And while the harmonious thunders roll, Chant a vesper to my soul: Thus how sweet my sleep will be, Shut out from thoughtful misery! ATHANATOS. AWAY with death-away With all her sluggish sleeps and chilling damps, How can the soul desire Such hateful nothingness to crave, And yield with joy the vital fire, Yet mortal life is sad, Eternal storms molest its sullen sky; Away with mortal life! But, hail the calm reality, The seraph Immortality! Hail the Heavenly bowers of peace! Strike to praise the harmonious lyre; And the spirit sinks to ease, Oh! to think of meeting there The friends whose graves received our tear, Who would cling to wretched life, MUSIC. Written between the Ages of Fourteen and Fifteen, with a few subsequent verbal Alterations. Music, all powerful o'er the human mind, Can still each mental storm, each tumult calm, Soothe anxious Care on sleepless couch reclined, And e'en fierce Anger's furious rage disarm. At her command the various passions lie; She stirs to battle, or she lulls to peace; Melts the charm'd soul to thrilling ecstacy, [cease. And bids the jarring world's harsh clangour Her martial sounds can fainting troops inspire With strength unwonted, and enthusiasm raise; |