Part 480 (1/2)

I led the bride before the shrine!

And saw the future years revealed, Gla.s.sed on my hope--one blooming field!

More wide, and widening more, were given The angel-gates disclosing heaven; Round us the lovely, mirthful troop Of children came--yet still to me The loveliest--merriest of the group The happy mother seemed to be!

Mine, by the bonds that bind us more Than all the oaths the priest before; Mine, by the concord of content, When heart with heart is music-blent; When, as sweet sounds in unison, Two lives harmonious melt in one!

When--sudden (O the villain!)--came Upon the scene a mind profound!-- A bel esprit, who whispered ”Fame,”

And shook my card-house to the ground.

What have I now instead of all The Eden lost of hearth and hall?

What comforts for the heaven bereft?

What of the younger angel's left?

A sort of intellectual mule, Man's stubborn mind in woman's shape, Too hard to love, too frail to rule-- A sage engrafted on an ape!

To what she calls the realm of mind, She leaves that throne, her s.e.x, to crawl, The cestus and the charm resigned-- A public gaping-show to all!

She blots from beauty's golden book A name 'mid nature's choicest few, To gain the glory of a nook In Doctor Dunderhead's Review.

WRITTEN IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALb.u.m.

Sweet friend, the world, like some fair infant blessed, Radiant with sportive grace, around thee plays; Yet 'tis not as depicted in thy breast-- Not as within thy soul's fair gla.s.s, its rays Are mirrored. The respectful fealty That my heart's n.o.bleness hath won for thee, The miracles thou workest everywhere, The charms thy being to this life first lent,-- To it, mere charms to reckon thou'rt content, To us, they seem humanity so fair.

The witchery sweet of ne'er-polluted youth, The talisman of innocence and truth-- Him I would see, who these to scorn can dare!

Thou revellest joyously in telling o'er The blooming flowers that round thy path are strown,-- The glad, whom thou hast made so evermore,-- The souls that thou hast conquered for thine own.

In thy deceit so blissful be thou glad!

Ne'er let a waking disenchantment sad Hurl thee despairing from thy dream's proud flight!

Like the fair flowerets that thy beds perfume, Observe them, but ne'er touch them as they bloom,-- Plant them, but only for the distant sight.

Created only to enchant the eye, In faded beauty at thy feet they'll lie, The nearer thee, the nearer their long night!

POEMS OF THE THIRD PERIOD.

THE MEETING.

I see her still--by her fair train surrounded, The fairest of them all, she took her place; Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded, For, oh! they dazzled with their heavenly grace.

With awe my soul was filled--with bliss unbounded, While gazing on her softly radiant face; But soon, as if up-borne on wings of fire, My fingers 'gan to sweep the sounding lyre.

The thoughts that rushed across me in that hour, The words I sang, I'd fain once more invoke; Within, I felt a new-awakened power, That each emotion of my bosom spoke.

My soul, long time enchained in sloth's dull bower, Through all its fetters now triumphant broke, And brought to light unknown, harmonious numbers, Which in its deepest depths, had lived in slumbers.

And when the chords had ceased their gentle sighing, And when my soul rejoined its mortal frame, I looked upon her face and saw love vieing, In every feature, with her maiden shame.

And soon my ravished heart seemed heavenward flying, When her soft whisper o'er my senses came.

The blissful seraphs' choral strains alone Can glad mine ear again with that sweet tone,

Of that fond heart, which, pining silently, Ne'er ventures to express its feelings lowly, The real and modest worth is known to me-- 'Gainst cruel fate I'll guard its cause so holy.

Most blest of all, the meek one's lot shall be-- Love's flowers by love's own hand are gathered solely-- The fairest prize to that fond heart is due, That feels it, and that beats responsive, too!

THE SECRET.