THE WORLD'S WANDERERS. I. TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now? II. Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray III. Weary wind, who wanderest On the tree or billow? 1820. TO THE MOON. ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Among the stars that have a different birth, - 5 10 5 There were sweet dreams in the night And, was it sadness or delight, Each day a shadow onward cast Which made us wish it yet might last - III. There is regret, almost remorse, For Time long past. ΙΟ 'Tis like a child's beloved corse 15 A father watches, till at last Beauty is like remembrance, cast From Time long past. 1820. SONNET. YE hasten to the grave! What seek ye there, Ye restless thoughts and busy purposes Of the idle brain, which the world's livery wear? 5 Thou vainly curious mind which wouldest guess With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path, A refuge in the cavern of gray death? O heart, and mind, and thoughts, what thing do you DIRGE FOR THE YEAR. I. ORPHAN hours, the year is dead,– For the year is but asleep. See, it smiles as it is sleeping, II. As an earthquake rocks a corse So White Winter, that rough nurse, Solemn hours! wail aloud For your mother in her shroud. III. As the wild air stirs and sways The tree-swung cradle of a child, So the breath of these rude days Rocks the year :-be calm and mild, 1820. January gray is here, Like a sexton by her grave; March with grief doth howl and rave, January 1, 1821. TIME. UNFATHOMABLE Sea! whose waves are years, Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore; Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm, Who shall put forth on thee, Unfathomable Sea? TO NIGHT. I. SWIFTLY walk o'er the western wave, Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where all the long and lone daylight, 20 5 IO 1821. Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, II. Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, Star in-wrought! Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; III. When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, I sighed for thee. IV. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noon-tide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me?. And I replied, No, not thee! V. Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon 5 10 15 20 25 30 |