« AnteriorContinuar »
For this obedient zephyrs bear
Her light seed round yon turrets mold, And undispersed by tempests there,
They rise in vegetable gold.
· Nor shall thy wonder wake to see,
Such desert scenes destruction crave, Oft have they been, and oft shall be
Truth's, honour's, valour's, beauty's grave.
" When longs to fall that rifted spire,
As weary the insulting air,
The lover's sighs are sleeping there.
When that too shakes the trembling ground,
Borne down by some tempestuous sky, And many a slumbering cottage round
Startles-how still their hearts will lie,
• Of them who, wrapped in earth so cold,
No more the smiling day shall view, Should many a tender tale be told,
For many a tender thought is due.
Hast thou not seen some lover pale,
When evening brought the pensive hour, Step slowly o'er the shadowy vale,
And stop to pluck the fragrant flower ?
• Those flowers be surely means to strew
On lost affection's lowly cell,
Forgotten from the hand they fell.
• Has not for thee the fragrant thorn
Been taught its first rose to resign, With vain, though pious fondness borne,
To deck thy Nancy's honoured shrine ?
• 'Tis nature pleading in the breast,
Fair memory of her works to find ; And when to fall she yields the rest,
She claims the monumental mind.
"Why else the o'ergrown paths of time
Would thus the lettered sage explore, With pain these crumbling ruins climb,
And on the doubtful sculpture pore ?
Why seeks be with unwearied toil,
way, Reclaim his long asserted spoil,
And lead oblivion into day ?
“ 'Tis nature prompts, by toil or fear
Unmoved, to range thro' death's domain ;
On beds of snow the moon-beam slept,
And chilly was the midnight gloom, When by the damp grave Ellen wept
Sweet maid ! it was her Lindor's tomb !
A warm tear gushed; the wintry air
Congealed it as it flowed away : All night it lay an ice-drop there,
At morn it glittered in the ray.
An Angel, wandering from her sphere,
Who saw this bright, this frozen gem,
And hung it on her diadem.
THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.
But be, the favourite and the flower,
mood : I've seen it rushing forth in blood,
any shape, in
I've seen it on the breaking ocean,
of most transparent light,