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Expectant stood. On the left, dark demons
prey, and mock, and curse, Another being, ever doomed to share, Their own unutterable agonies ! There, a bright band, waiting to strike their harps To bail another saint to endless life.
I heard the irrevocable sentence !
my tortured bosom; then the flame
OH SAY NOT THAT MY HEART, &e.
Oh say not that
heart is cold To aught that once could warm it That nature's form so dear of old
No more has power to charm it; Or that the ungenerous
world can chill One glow of fond emotion For those who made it dearer still,
And shared my wild devotion.
Still oft those solemn scenes I view,
In rapt and dreaming sadness ;
With fancy's idle gladness;
In nature's features glowing ; Again to tread the mountain's height
And taste the soul's o'erflowing.
Stern duty rose, and frowning flung
His leaden chain around me; With iron look and sullen tongue
He muttered as he bound me
Unfit for toil the creature ;
Rev. C. Wolfe.
ON A YOUTHFUL BEAUTY.
my love has an eye of the softest blue, Yet it was not that, that won me; But a little bright drop from her soul was there
'Tis that, that has undone me.
I might have passed that lovely cheek,
Nor, perchance, my heart have left me ; But the sensitive blush that came trembling there,
Of my heart it for ever bereft me.
I might have forgotten that red, red lip
Yet how from the thought to sever ?
And that smile I'll remember for ever.
Think not 'tis nothing but lifeless clay,
The elegant form that haunts me-
In every step, that enchants me.
Let me, not hear the nightingale sing,
Though I once in its notes delighted;
Has left me no music beside it.
Who could blame, had I loved that face,
Ere my eye could twice explore her?
Rev. C. Wolfe.
ODE ON THE DARWENT.
Darwent ! what scenes thy wandering waves behold, As bursting from thy hundred springs they stray,
And down those vales in sounding torrents rolled,
Here thy dark alders leaning from the cliff
Flow on, ye waves ! where dressed in gorgeous pride,
Flow on, ye waves ! where nature's rudest child,
maids your sparkling currents drink,
Stop, gentle waves ! in circling eddies play,
With playful malice from her kindled cheeks,