THE SEER.

1827.

"If I read aught in heaven,

"Or heaven write aught of fate, by what the stars

"Voluminous, or single characters

"In their conjunction met, give me to spell

THE Gipsy was bold, when she promised thee,

To unfold the page of thy destiny:

She may read, it is true, but no further can look, Into the secrets of fate's dread book.

2.

She

may

read the stars with her keen dark eye,

But she cannot construe the truths that lie
Hidden therein, nor may she tell

Of the light contain'd in their magic spell.

3.

The Gipsy may read, the Seer must reveal,

All the fates would fain conceal:

His master art alone can see,

The path of thy fair destiny.

4.

Well on thy snowy brow hath she traced
The good and ill that are interlaced,

But her power their sense can ne'er divine;
That art, sweet maid, is only mine.

5.

In the star of thy birth she hath caught a gleam,
And mixt up its hues in her fanciful dream;

But the Seer alone can truly show

How the tide of thy fate may ebb and flow.

6.

In the past I discern thy cheek was “ pale;
Thus far did the Gipsy's art prevail;

For a dear lost "rose " hath droop'd by thy side,
And thy first bloom wither'd when Marian died.

99

7.

One link of the "chain was broken then,

But here again fail'd the Gipsy's ken;

Though one "ruby " was lost, my art can tell

Despair in thy breast could never dwell.

8.

Broken, not "lost," though thou grievest for the hour,
That crush'd in its bloom such an innocent flower;
For thy sweet resignation all murmur forbade,
And peace to thy heart was by mercy convey'd.

9.

So far have I read thee

the "star of thy birth

Is bright, but seems "fallen," as viewed from earth:
In a mist like a shade it appears to decay,
E'en thus will thy cares and thy woes pass away.

10.

Like the bright "coronal" in the fair moon-beam,
Doth the sparkling of pleasure in thy future seem;
Its pearl drops like "tears" may by fancy be drest,
Still no sighs but for others shall heave thy soft breast.

11.

In the sweet modest beam of thy hazel eye,

Promised bliss, my fair maid, doth confessedly lie;
And my art superior nought can see,

But a passing" shade" in thy destiny.

12.

Thus far, sweet girl, have I track'd thy way;

More is not given the Seer to say ;

Yet no "broken heart," no "early " doom,
Do I see to fade thy cheek's fair bloom.

13.

Thy worth and thy virtue will prove the shield

To resist every dart that fate may wield;

In thy dear home, all aid is given

To bless on earth, and to lead to heaven! *

* Written at the request of a Lady for her Album, as an antidote to an ill-boding "Gipsy's Prophecy."

ON BEING PRESENT IN THE THEATRE AT OXFORD,

WHEN

SIR EDWARD PARRY, SIR JOHN FRANKLIN,

AND THE

AMERICAN AMBASSADOR,

WERE ADMITTED TO HONORARY DEGREES.

OXFORD, famed city, hail! thy spires and domes,
Thy time-defying towers, at once the tombs
Of worth departed— and the beacon light
To rising genius, bursting from the night
Of intellectual darkness, with a gleam
Fair in its promised brightness, such as seem
The lovely tints that early morn o'erspread,
Herald of day's gold orb, from Ocean's bed
Uprising! even thus in wisdom's school,
Thy sons in arts and sciences bear rule,
Led by experience, each task abide,

And prove at once their country's boast and pride.
Soft arts of peace! yet war has been thy own,
Thy walls have heard the dying warrior's groan,
When Mars with jealous rage his arm laid bare,
To snatch thee from Minerva's fost'ring care.
Of times gone by, it is not now to tell,
No record past this humble page may swell;

K

Such must the muse aside at present fling,
And of thy latest triumph, Oxford, sing.
Proud hour! when in her Theatre were seen

Soldier and seaman brave, and statesman keen,
With academic honours to be crown'd
Approving beauty circling all around,
Graceful, arrayed in robes of various dyes,
Like the bright rainbow's arch in purest skies.
Now as the heroes 'mid the shouts drew near,
Their smiles, like April's sun, shone through the tear.
America's stern child did foremost stand,

The proud ambassador of freedom's land-
Then stood our Parry! son of enterprise
Fearless on ocean rude, 'neath threat'ning skies :
Yet here his iron nerves were hardly proof
Against the loud applause that shook the roof;
His fading cheek, his quiv'ring lip betray'd
How much he felt his toils were now repaid
Whilst kindling brightness in his speaking eye,
And the hard breathing of a stifled sigh,

Show'd that while thus to view unmoved he stood,
His grateful feelings, like the burning flood
'Neath Hecla's mountain, hid in Iceland's isle,
Under the placid seeming all the while,
With painful effort scarcely could restrain
His voice from echoing back those shouts again.
Beside him Franklin stood of sturdy frame,

Whose deeds bespeak him favour'd son of fame :
With dauntless bearing, eye of eagle fire,

Showing the ardent soul that dares aspire

To toils which fainter hearts would shrink to bear, Toils he subdued, for Franklin knew no fear.