Imatges de pÓgina
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I'm Fancy call'd!

My realm is bright with joy, and sparkling gems
Lie scatter'd o'er my dells for all to cull;
Flowers, that earth's most favour'd climes would fail
To peer, grow there in richest clusterings;
Music floats in my groves, no mortal lyre
Could breathe so full of thrilling extacy;
Wealth, that earth's confines could not yield, if heap'd,
Is mine to give, and bliss beyond compare !--
Art thou a prison'd wretch ? I limits break;
And far, o'er hill and dale, in freedom's glee,
Thou, 'neath my spell, canst travel gaily on !
Art thou a slave, and chain’d and powerless ?
I'll build for thee a throne; and bowing trains
Of subjects, leal, shall rise before thine eyes,
Eager to mark thy will or court thy smile !--
I can reveal the wonders of the deep
And give thee ingress to her cavern'd stores,
And let thee hear the Syrens' witching song,
And make thee float, within a hollow shell
By sea-birds drawn, across the billows' breast
To learn the love-tales of the finny tribes !-

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Beneath my spell, thou 'lt hear a voice at eve
Recounting all the deeds of busy day-
Telling if good or evil most prevail'd l-
If thou wouldst pierce the clouds, where angel-hosts
Dwell in celestial glory, peace, and love,
To bring to man a message of good-will,
I wings can lend to bear thee thitherward !
Sights, beyond mortal grace, I conjure up-

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Sounds that no ear, but such as own my sway,

Hath heard !-One of my visions to the soul
Can bring more bliss than full reality !-
If thou wilt be mine own, with magic speed
I'll lift thee on Aurora's radiant wing,
And thou shalt watch her strew the sky with stars,
As gracefully she shakes her golden locks,
Dripping with glowing dews, while on she flies
Sweet mother of night's countless holy lights;
I'll give thy tongue a charm, that list'ning ears
Intoxicating extacy shall drink
When thy rich stores of speech thou pourest forth,
And, wond’ring, they will deem thy skill divine;
I'll dip thy pen in dew, that, in its course;

The fairest flowers luxuriantly may spring;
I'll tint thy cheek with beauty's rarest hues,
And kindle in thine eyes a light sublime,
And tune thy voice to sweetest harmony,
And gift thy form with motion's loveliest grace :-
Say, wilt thou be mine own, dear youth ?-Yon form
Too strongly binds in cold and rigid chains
For youth to love his rule: I leave him free-
Free as unfetter'd winds, that roam earth's vales,
And sport them where they list, then on again!

Entranced, he listen`d to her syren tongue,
And gazed delighted on her radiant eyes,
That seem'd to pour forth lustre to delude,
Or blind to all but her bewitching self.
Not quite convinced, but charm'd beyond all thought,
And all reluctant to awake from bliss,
The youth in wild abandonment exclaim'à :-

“ Take me, sweet Fancy, bear me on thy wings
To thy bright fairy home, for thine I am !-
To suffer and to strive, is Reason's code;

Thine, to enjoy : the latter choice I make!
More fitting peer for Age, with wrinkled brow
And pulses tamed for patient ponderings,
Art thou, O Reason, with thy rules severe
And maxims grave, and facts, and sciences !
Full time 'twill be, when Fancy's spells are o'er
And feeling sinks to sleep within my breast,
To send for thee to teach me to endure
The pains of age, that I serene may die !”

With sadden'd brow and slow retreating steps,
In tones of gentle kindness Reason cried :-

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“ Dear youth, beware! forget not thou hast said, 'Thy counsels I will treasure in mind: They'll serve thee well, e'en in thy joyous youth, When Fancy's fleeting charms shall mock thy grasp And thou wilt need a friend to comfort thee!

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He that rejects me in his pride of youth,
I bless not in his age. Seek me in time !”

SIR ELDRED THE BETRAYED,

A ROMANCE OF OLDEN TIMES,

With biazon'd crest, and waving pluine,

And many a trophy won in fight, Sir Eldred paced an ancient room,

Where dimly gleam'd the morning light;

And ever, as his step drew near

A deep dark niche, that distant lay From where the sun did faintly peer,

He bent his mailed knee to pray,

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