Page images
PDF
EPUB
[graphic][merged small][merged small]

ARK yon old mansion frowning through the trees,
Whose hollow turret woos the whistling breeze.
That casement, arched with ivy's brownest shade,
First to these eyes the light of heaven conveyed.
The mouldering gateway shows the grass-grown

court,

Once the calm scene of many a simple sport;
When nature pleased, for life itself was new,
And the heart promised what the fancy drew.

See, through the fractured pediment revealed,
Where moss inlays the rudely sculptured shield,

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed]

The martin's old, hereditary nest-
Long may the ruin spare its hallowed guest!

As jars the hinge, what sullen echoes call!
Oh, haste, unfold the hospitable hall!
That hall, where once, in antiquated state,
The chair of justice held the grave debate;

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,
And all was sunshine in each little breast.

'T was here we chased the slipper by the sound,
And turned the blindfold hero round and round.
'T was here, at eve, we formed our fairy ring,
And Fancy fluttered on her wildest wing.
Giants and genii claimed each wondering ear,
And orphan sorrows drew the ready tear.

Oft with the Babes we wandered in the Wood,
Or viewed the forest feats of Robin Hood;

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.
As o'er the dusky furniture I bend,

Each chair awakes the feelings of a friend;

The storied arras, source of fond delight,

With old achievements charms the wildered sight;
And still, with heraldry's rich hues imprest,
On the dim window glows the pictured crest.
The screen unfolds its many-coloured chart,
The clock still points its moral to the heart.
That faithful monitor 't was heaven to hear,
When soft it spoke a promised pleasure near;
And has its sober hand, its simple chime,
Forgot to trace the feathered feet of Time?

The massive beam, with curious carving wrought,
Whence the caged linnet soothed my pensive thought;

Those muskets, cased with venerable rust;

Those once-loved forms, still breathing through their dust,
Still from the frame, in mould gigantic cast,
Starting to life-all whisper of the Past!

[graphic]
[graphic][merged small][merged small]

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
Upon his doubtful way.

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!
And shall it not a blessing call from Heaven?

It will; my heart leaps at the very thought:
The seaman's blessing rests upon my head
To charm my wanderer home.

[graphic][merged small]

LOOK up to the blue sky

Is not daylight there? And these green boughs
Are fresh and fragrant round thee; every sense
Tells thee it is the cheerful early day.

ORRA. Ay, so it is; day takes his daily turn,

Rising between the gulfy dells of night,
Like whitened billows on a gloomy sea.

« PreviousContinue »