THE BEATING OF THE HEART. H EART that beateth, trembleth, yearneth! Now with grief and pain assailed, Now with joy triumphant burneth Moveless as the wave-worn rock In the battle's deadly shock, Yet melting at some mimic show, Faint with love, of conquest proud, Hark! the chords triumphant swell! Sudden strikes the passing bell, Though at times, O Death, I cry, Gaunt and pale, remorseless King! Glow and dance in every vein, Beat, dear Heart, against my breast- Life and thee together rest Night comes, draped in shadows sombre, Morning, robed in light appears! Minutes, hours, without number, Pass like dreams: yet still thou art When his doom the Captive heareth, How thy summons, stroke on stroke, Tells the fatal moment neareth, Sounding like the heavy stroke Distant heard ere falls the oak! How the maiden fain would hide Every pulse reveals the flame, But how innocent the shame That her bosom fills. In the Hero, firm as steel, In the Virgin, soft as snow; Where the recreant blood doth go, Hiding from the sight of foe; |