Page images

Thine is the breathing blushing hour
When all unheav'nly passions fly,
Chas'd by the soul-subduing power
Of Love's delicious extacy. ·

O! sacred to the fall of day,

Queen of propitious stars appear And early rise; nor long delay

When Caroline herself is here!

Shine on her chosen green resort,

Whose trees the sunward summit crown, And wanton flowers that well may court, An angel's feet to tread them down.

Shine on her sweetly scented road,
Thou star of ev'ning's purple dome,
That leads the nightingale abroad,

And guides the pilgrim to his home.

Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath,
Embalms the soft exhaling dew,
Where dying winds a sigh bequeath
To kiss the cheek of rosy hue.

[ocr errors]

Where winnow'd by the gentle air,


Her silken tressess darkly flow,

And fall upon her brow so fair

Like shadows on the mountain snow.

Thus, ever thus, at day's decline,
In converse sweet, to wander far,
O bring with thee my Caroline,

And thou shalt be my Ruling Star!


OUR bugles had sung, for the night-cloud had lower'd,

And the centinel stars set their watch in the sky, And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd, The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die!

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scarring fagot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And twice, ere the cock crew, I dreamt it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far, I had roam'd on a desolate tract,

Till nature and sunshine disclos'd the sweet way
To the house of my father, that welcom'd me back.

[ocr errors]

I flew to the pleasant fields, travell❜d so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young,

I heard my own mountain goats bleating aloft,
And well knew the strain that the corn reapers sung.

Then pledg'd we the wine cup, and fondly we swore,
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kiss'd
me a thousand times o'er,
And my wife sobb'd aloud in the fulness of heart.

Stay! stay with us! rest! thou art weary and worn, And fain was the war-broken soldier to stay;

But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.

« PreviousContinue »