ARK yon old mansion frowning through the trees, court, Once the calm scene of many a simple sport; See, through the fractured pediment revealed, The martin's old, hereditary nest- As jars the hinge, what sullen echoes call! Now stained with dews, with cobwebs darkly hung, Oft has its roof with peals of rapture rung, When round yon ample board, in due degree, We sweetened every meal with social glee. THE OLD HOUSE. The heart's light laugh pursued the circling jest, 'T was here we chased the slipper by the sound, Oft with the Babes we wandered in the Wood, Oft, fancy led, at midnight's fearful hour With startling step we scaled the lonely tower: O'er infant innocence to hang and weep, Murdered by ruffian hands, when smiling in its sleep. Each chair awakes the feelings of a friend; The storied arras, source of fond delight, With old achievements charms the wildered sight; The massive beam, with curious carving wrought, Those muskets, cased with venerable rust; Those once-loved forms, still breathing through their dust, URORA. How many leagues from shore may such a light By the benighted mariner be seen? BASTIANI. Some six or so, he will descry it faintly, Like a small star, or hermit's taper, peering From some caved rock that brows the dreary waste; Or like the lamp of some lone lazar-house, Which through the silent night the traveller spies VIOLA. Fie on such images ! Thou shouldst have likened it to things more seemly. Thou mightst have said the peasant's evening fire That from his upland cot, through Winter's gloom, What time his wife their evening meal prepares, Blinks on the traveller's eye and cheers his heart; Or signal torch, that from my lady's bower Tells wandering knights the revels are begun; Or blazing brand, that from the vintage-house O' long October nights, through the still air Looks rousingly. To have our gallant Beacon Ta'en for a lazar-house! Ф DAYBREAK. BASTIANI. Well, maiden, as thou wilt: thy gentle mistress Of all these things may choose what likes her best, To paint more clearly how her noble fire The distant seamen cheers, who bless the while The hand that kindled it. AURORA. Shall I be blessed By wandering men returning to their homes? By those from shipwreck saved, again to cheer Their wives, their friends, their kindred? Blessed by those! It will; my heart leaps at the very thought: LOOK up to the blue sky Is not daylight there? And these green boughs ORRA. Ay, so it is; day takes his daily turn, Rising between the gulfy dells of night, |