ON A LADY DYING OF A CONSUMPTION. VIEW yon pale flower, surcharg'd with dew, That bends its lonely head to earth, Its stem which now can scarce sustain But thou, lost maid! whose fading frame What sun shall rise thy griefs to cheer, What though thy words will not unfold The cause that prompts the frequent sigh, Too well, alas! those looks have told That treach'rous love has bid thee die. Oh! yes, that pow'r that gave thee breath, Maunde. TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER. (Die Ideale.) COMPANIONS of my earlier years, With all your train of hopes and fears, Creative Fancy's magic fires, That warm'd my opening mind with distant scenes of joy? Imagination's airy train, Can nought your hasty flight restrain ? Ah! never, never shall I see Those visions of my early prime; Swept by the ruthless storms of time, Lost in the ocean of eternity. And are those suns for ever set in night, That spread their lustre o'er my dawning day? Each wish that fir'd my inexperienc'd mind, As once the sculptured image fir'd Till breath and genial life inspir'd The marbles cold and senseless frame; Appear'd in all her charms array'd, And mimic life inspir'd the wond'rous whole. Responsive to my ardent mind, The magic influence spread o'er all, The tree, the flower, the water-fall, The forest wild, the lawn, the grove, All seem'd to life and sense refin'd, To echo back the song of boundless love. Methought an influence divine Rul'd with Almighty pow'r my mind, And urg'd to ev'ry great design, Form'd by the love of human kind! How vast, how fair, appear'd this wond'rous scene, When hope at first its op'ning buds display'd! How dull and comfortless, how poor and mean, Has reason since this mighty world portray'd! When first life's journey I began, To many a great and arduous height, How easy thence to snatch the prize It seem❜d, amid the glorious strife, The forms that glitter in the morn of life. That Love his roses in my path had strown, On me had doom'd their choicest gifts to fall. The fairy scenes are flown, The bright enchantment vanished in air; Faithless, for ever are they gone, Unmark'd, unheard my prayer. On hasty wings has Fortune urg'd her flight, Nor knowledge grants me yet her gifts to share, While hid in clouds of doubt is Truth's immortal light. I saw the palm of high renown The op'ning sweets of life's delicious morn! The shades that gather'd round my lonely way, Of all the visionary train That fancy erst was wont to raise, To whom I early sought and found: And all life's ills assuage; Canst to perfection bring each nobler aim, And atoms upon atoms pile, To form a system's mighty frame: Led by thy hand in life's declining day, Hours, minutes, months, and years, will softly steal away. I. B. |