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fate would fret； My eyes shall turn to thee and cease to weep； Till I too
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sleep death's deep and dreamless sleep！
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TO ISABEL。
Come near me with thy lips； and； breathe o'er mine Their breath；
for I consume with love's desire； Thine ivory arms about me clasp and
twine； And beam upon mine eye thine eye's soft fire； Clasp me yet
closer； till my heart feels thine Thrill； as the chords of Memnon's
mystic lyre Thrilled at the sun's uprising！ thou who art The lone； the
worshipped idol of my heart！
There！ balmier than the south wind； when it brings The scent of
aromatic shrub and tree； And tropic flower on ifs glowing wings； Thine
odorous breath is wafted over me； How to thy dewy lips mine own lip
clings； And my whole being is absorbed in thee； And in my breast thine
eyes have lit a fire That never； never； never shall expire！
Eternalis it not eternalthis Our passionate love？ what pow'r shall
part us twain？ Not even Death！ Life could bestow no bliss Like death
with thee； and I would rend its chain If thou shouldst perish； for my
heaven is To gaze upon thee！ I could bear all pain Unsighing； so not
parted from thy side； My beautiful！ my spirit's chosen bride！
They try to woo me from thy fond embrace； To lure me from the
light of those dear eyes； They tell me that in fortune's arduous chase； I
have such fleetness as would win the prize； But all the pomps of
circumstance and place； A glance； a word； a smile of thine outvies！
Leave Fortune to her parasites！ mine be The blessed lot to dwell with love
and thee。
To lead thee on through life； and to enlarge Thy soul with added
knowledge； day by day； To guard thee； as an angel guards his charge；
From every ill that lurks along the way！ To smooth that rugged way； and
strew its marge With the bright flowrs that never can decay； This were
a lot too glorious； too divine； And yet Hope whispers that it shall be mine。
Now listen； love；this plan shall rule my life And thine：In some
remote and sunny dell； Far from the crowded city's silly strife； My
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hands shall rear the home where we will dwell； Shall till the soil； with
fertile fruitage rife； And teach the golden ear to shoot and swell； And
my sole wished for recompense shall be My ever growing； deep'ning love
for thee。
Thy task shall be to train the trailing vine； To watch； and cherish in
its growth； the flow'r Whose breath and cheek are sweet and fair as thine；
To bless and brighten the domestic bow'r Where we will build to Love a
hallowed shrine； And bow us； in his worship； every hour； Till；
chastened by thy smile； my heart has grown As pure； and soft； and sinless
as thine own。
Oh； hasten； love！ to realize the dream； Come from the world；the
crowd is not for thee； Forsake it then； ere the contagious steam Of its
foul breath has soiled thy purity； Come； for my heart would burst could I
but deem That such as they are； thou couldst ever be！ Come； for my
soul adores thee with a love As burning as the seraphs feel above。
These lines are inscribed to the memory of John Q。 Carlin； killed at
Buena Vista。
Warrior of the youthful brow； Eager heart and eagle eye！ Pants thy
soul for battle now？ Burns thy glance with victory？ Dost thou dream of
conflicts done； Perils past and trophies won？ And a nation's grateful praise
Given to thine after days？
Bloodless is thy cheek； and cold As the clay upon it prest； And in
many a slimy fold； Winds the grave…worm round thy breast。 Thou wilt
join the fight no more； Glory's dream with thee is o'er； And alike are
now to thee Greatness and obscurity。
But an ever sunny sky； O'er thy place of rest is bending； And above
thy grave； and nigh； Flowers ever bright are blending。 O'er thy
dreamless； calm repose； Balmily the south wind blows； With the green
turf on thy breast； Rest thee； youthful warrior； rest！
When the alarum first was sounded； Marshalling in arms the brave；
Forth thy fearless spirit bounded； To obtain theewhat？ A grave！ Fame
had whispered in thine ear； Words the high…souled love to hear； But the
ruthless hand of death From thee snatched the hero's wreath。
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Often will the grief…shade start O'er thy sister's mood of joy； Vainly
will thy mother's heart Yearn to greet her absent boy； Never sister's lip
shall press On thine own its fond caress； Never more a mother's eye
Flash in pride when thou art by！
Where the orange； bending lowly With its golden fruit； is swaying；
And the Indian maiden； slowly By her native stream is straying； O'er
thy dreamless； calm repose； Balmily the South wind blows； With the
green turf on thy breast； Rest thee； youthful warrior； rest！
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A LEGEND OF THE HARTZ。
Many ages ago； near the high Hartz； there dwelt A rude race of blood…
loving giants； who felt No joy but the fierce one which Carnage bestows；
When her foul lips are clogged with the blood of her foes。
And fiercer and bolder than all of the rest Was Bohdo；（1） their
chieftain；'twas strange that a breast； Which nothing like kindness or pity
might move； Should glow with the warmth and the rapture of love。
Yet he loved； and the pale mountain…monarch's fair child Was the maid
of his heart； but tho' burning and wild Was the love that he bore her； it won
no return； And the flame that consumed him was answered with scorn。
Now the lady is gone with her steed to the plain； Save the falcon and
hound there is none in her train； She needs none to guide； or to guard her
from harm There's no fear in her heart； there is strength in her arm。
From her white wrist unhooded her falcon she threw； Her bow like
Diana； the huntress； she drew； And fleet as the fetterless bird swept the sky；
So on her proud steed swept the fair lady by。
See how her eye sparkles； and how her cheek glows； As onward so
fearless and proudly she goes； With her locks streaming back like a banner
of gold； Were she not； say； a bride meet for Nimrod（2） of old？
And he saw herthe chief； from his tower afar As she glanced o'er
the earth like some wandering star； And he swore she should come in that
tower to dwell； Or his soul be a prize to the spirits of hell。
His war…horse he mounted； and； swift as the shoot Of the night…
gathered meteor； he sped in pursuit； Breathing out； as he went； mad with
love and with hate； Bitter curse upon curse against heaven and fate。
Urging on his fleet courser with spur and with rein； He swept o'er the
earth as the storm sweeps the plain； And the fair lady knew； by the gleam
of his shield； It was Bohdo； the scourge of the red battle field！
Then spurred she her steed over valley and hill； Over rock； marsh and
moor； over river and rill； Yet still her eye sparkled； and still her cheek
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glowed； As onward so fleetly and bravely she rode。
Thus over Thuringia sped she away； With the speed of the hawk when
he darts on his prey； Or an arrow let loose from a warrior's bow； When it
speeds with sure aim to the heart of his foe。
Then the Hartz； the wild Hartzthe terrificthe proud！ Where the
mist…spirit dwells in his palace of cloud！ Where the evi