CONCEAL'D WITHIN THE SHADY WOOD.
CONCEAL'D within the shady wood
A mother left her sleeping child,
And flew, to cull her rustic food,
The fruitage of the forest wild.
But storms upon her path-way rise,
The mother roams, astray and weeping;
Far from the weak appealing cries
Of him she left so sweetly sleeping.
She hopes, she fears; a light is seen,
And gentler blows the night wind's breath;
Yet no-'tis gone-the storms are keen,
The baby may be chill'd to death;
Perhaps his little eyes are shaded
Dim by death's eternal chill
And yet, perhaps, they are not faded,
Life and love may light them still.
Thus, when my soul, with parting sigh, Hung on thy hand's bewildering touch, And, timid, ask'd that speaking eye,
If parting pain'd thee half so much :
I thought, and oh! forgive the thought,
For who, by eyes like thine inspir'd,
Could e'er resist the flattering fault
Of fancying what his soul desir'd?
Yes, I did think, in CARA's mind, Though yet to CARA's mind unknown, I left one infant wish behind,
One feeling, which I call'd my own!
Oh blest! though but in fancy blest,
How did I ask of pity's care,
To shield and strengthen in thy breast,
The nursling I had cradled there.
And, many an hour beguil'd by pleasure,
And many an hour of sorrow numbering,
I ne'er forgot the new-born treasure,
I left within my bosom slumbering.
Perhaps, indifference has not chill'd it,
Haply, it yet a throb may give-
Yet no-perhaps, a doubt has kill'd it!
Oh, CARA!-does the infant live?
WHERE IS NOW THE SMILE THAT LIGHTEN'D.
WHERE is now the smile that lighten'd
Every hero's couch of rest?
Where is now the hope that brighten'd
Honour's eye and pity's breast ?
Have we lost the wreath we braided
For our weary warrior men?
Is the faithless olive faded,
Must the bay be pluck'd again?
Passing hour of sunny weather
Lovely, in your light awhile,
Peace and Glory, wed together,
Wander'd through the blessed isle.
And the eyes of peace would glisten,
Dewy as a morning sun,
When the timid maid would listen
To the deeds her chief had done.
Is the hour of dalliance over?
Must the maiden's trembling feet
Waft her from her warlike lover
To the desert's still retreat ?
Fare you well! with sighs we banish
Nymph so fair and guest so bright;
Yet the smile, with which you vanish,
Leaves behind a soothing light!
Soothing light! that long shall sparkle
O'er your warrior's sanguine way,
Through the field where horrors darkle,
Shedding hope's consoling ray!
Long the smile his heart will cherish,
To its absent idol true,
While around him myriads perish,
Glory still will sigh for you!
TAKE BACK THE SIGH, THY LIPS OF ART.
TAKE back the sigh, thy lips of art
In passion's moment breath'd to me:
Yet, no-it must not, will not part,
'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,
And has become too pure for thee!
Take back the kiss, that faithless sigh
With all the warmth of truth imprest;
Yet, no-the fatal kiss may lie,
Upon thy lip its sweet would die,
Or bloom to make a rival blest!
Take back the vows that, night and day,
My heart receiv'd, I thought, from thine;
Yet, no-allow them still to stay,
They might some other heart betray,
As sweetly as they've ruined mine!
THAT SKY OF CLOUDS IS NOT THE SKY.
THAT Sky of clouds is not the sky
To light a lover to the pillow
Of her he loves-
The swell of yonder foaming billow
Resembles not the happy sigh
That rapture moves.
Yet do I feel more tranquil now
Amid the gloomy wild of ocean,
In this dark hour,
Than when, in transport's young emotion,
I've stol'n, beneath the evening star,
To Julia's bower.
Oh! there's a holy calm profound
In awe like this, that ne'er was given
To rapture's thrill;
"Tis as a solemn voice from heaven,
And the soul, listening to the sound,
Lies mute and still!
'Tis true, it talks of danger nigh,
Of slumbering with the dead to-morrow
In the cold deep,
Where pleasure's throb or tears of sorrow
No more shall wake the heart or eye,
But all must sleep!
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