ONE evening, as the Sun went down,
Gilding the mountains, bare and brown,
I wandered on the shore;
And such a blaze o'er ocean spread,
And beauty on the meek earth shed,
I never saw before!
I was not lonely;-dwellings fair
Were scattered round, and shining there;—
Gay groups were on the green,
Of children, wild with reckless glee,
And parents, that could child-like be
With them, and in that scene.
And on the sea, that looked of gold,
Each toy-like skiff and vessel bold
Glided, and yet seemed still;
While sounds rose in the quiet air,
That, mingling, made sweet music there,
Surpassing minstrel's skill !—
The breezy murmur from the shore,-
Joy's laugh re-echoed o'er and o'er,
Alike by sire and child,—
The whistle shrill,-the broken song,—
The far-off flute-notes lingering long,—
The lark's strain, rich and wild.
I looked, I listened, and the spell
Of Music and of Beauty fell
WRITTEN BY THE SEASIDE.
So radiant on my heart,
That scarcely durst I really deem,
What yet I would not own a dream,
Lest, dream-like, it depart.
'Twas sunset in the world around ;—
And, looking inwards, so I found
'Twas sunset in the soul;
Nor grief, nor mirth, were burning there,
But musings sweet, and visions fair,
In placid beauty stole.
But moods like these, the human mind,
Though seeking oft, may seldom find,
Or finding, force to stay ;-
As dews upon the drooping flower,
That, having shown their little hour,
Dry up-or fall away.
But, though all pleasures take their flight,
Yet some will leave memorials bright
For many an after year;
This sunset, that dull night will shade,-
These visions, which must quickly fade,
Will half-immortal memory braid
For me, when far from here!
THE NORTHERN STAR.
WRITTEN AT TYNEMOUTH, NORTHUMBERLAND,
"THE Northern Star
Sailed o'er the Bar,
Bound to the Baltic Sea :
In the morning gray
She stretched away—
'Twas a weary day to me.
"And many an hour,
In sleet and shower,
By the lighthouse rock I stray,
And watch till dark
For the winged bark
Of him that's far away.
"The Churchyard's bound
I wander round,
Among the grassy graves;
But all I hear
Is the North wind drear,
And all I see, the waves!"
Oh, roam not there,
Thou mourner fair,
Nor pour the fruitless tear!
Thy plaint of woe
Is all too low
The dead, they cannot hear.
The Northern Star
Is set afar,
Set in the raging sea;
And the billows spread
O'er the sandy bed,
That holds thy love from thee!
FROM A PICTURE BY NEWTON.
GRACEFUL "Phantom of delight!"
Glorious type of beauty bright!
Such as haunts the poet's vision,
When his dreams are all elysian,—
When his musing fancy brings
Shadows of all lovely things;
And famed Zeuxis' art excelling,
He hath formed a second Helen,-
Wanting but the power of speech,-
From the glowing traits of each!
But she may not vie with thee !-
There's a sweet simplicity
Flitting round thine open brow,
Sporting on thy ripe lips now,
Mantling o'er thy maiden cheek,
(In hues that leave description weak,)
With a brightness all too real
For a poet's beau ideal!
Though an angel's grace is thine,-
Though the light is half divine,
That with chastened lustre flashes
From beneath thine eyes' dark lashes;
Yet thy thoughtful forehead fair,
And that sweetly pensive air,
Speak thee but of mortal birth,
An erring, witching child of earth;
In each varied mood revealing
Human hope, and human feeling.
THE GIRL AND THE HAWK.
Gladsome now-now vowed to sorrow-
Gay to-day, if sad to-morrow!
Huntress fair, the sport is over,
Wherefore chain thy feathered rover!
Rich, indeed, the prize must be,
That can lure him far from thee!
What to him are hood and jesses,
Tangled in thy glossy tresses?
Dazzled by thy beauty's light,
Can he plume his wings for flight?
Fettered by a smile so bland,
Will he ever leave thy hand?-
No,-let him on thy beauty feed,
And he'll no firmer jesses need.
Ar midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power:
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;
In dreams his song of triumph heard;
Then wore his monarch's signet ring:
Then pressed that monarch's throne-a king;
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing,
As Eden's garden bird.
At midnight, in the forest shades,
Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band,
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