"Let there be light!"- when heathen gloom Mantled the world's bewildered mind, The Saviour, yielding to the tomb, Shed thence a daylight on the blind. Our steps, to where all things are fair, D. M. MOIR. THE UNCONSCIOUS ORPHAN. MOTHER, I have found a tear In your eye! How came it here? How I feel your bosom heave! What does make you sob and grieve? Let me wipe your tears away, Or I cannot go to play. Why is father sleeping so? As a piece of ice, to hold! Lift me up to kiss his cheek; Then, perhaps, he'll wake and speak. Mother, oh! it isn't he, For he will not look at me! Father hadn't cheeks so white! See! the lips are fastened tight! 'TWAS YESTERDAY. ""TWAS yesterday!" familiar sound, Heard oft as idle breath; Yet, prophet-like, to all around It spoke of woe and death! A mourner by the past it stands, In mystic mantle of decay, Shrouds in the night of years its hands, And grasps all life away! High from the boundless vault of Time The stars of empire veer; ""Twas yesterday" they beamed sublime, The mightiest in their sphere! ""Twas yesterday" revealed to Fate The rival crowns of centuries flown; Shewed where a Phantom sat in state Upon the Cæsars' throne! Sceptre and robe were cast aside! The ghastly bones stood bare; The rust fed on the gaurds of pride, Nor answer would the Phantom give, Where are the Grecian conquests now, The triumphs of her lute? Dust rests on the Homeric brow, Her genius now is mute! Where are the glorious hearts that fought Gone, where the mightiest names are sought, With "yesterday" of yore! We hope, - but what we hope the shroud Wraps from our weeping sight; We aim at stars, and clasp the cloud, Seek day, and find but night! |