Bright as the visions of youth, ere they part, Oh! there be hearts that are breaking, below! Night on the waves !—and the moon is on high, Seems not the ship like an island of rest? Bright and alone on the shadowy main, Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate plain ! Who-as he watches her silently gliding,- "Tis thus with our life, while it passes along, With streamers afloat, and with canvass unfurled ; Yet chartered by sorrow, and freighted with sighs!- As the smiles we put on-just to cover our tears; While the vessel drives on to that desolate shore Where the dreams of our childhood are vanished and o'er! TO A GIRL, WEEPING. MINE eyes-that may not see thee smile, Are glad to see thee weep; Thy spirit's calm, this weary while, Has been too dark and deep! Alas! for him who has but tears, But oh! his long and lonely years, Thou know'st, young mourner! thou hast been Through good and ill, to me, Amid a bleak and blighted scene, A single leafy tree: A star within a stormy sky; An island on the main ; And I have prayed, in agony, Thou, ever, wert a thing of tears, A very sport of hopes and fears, And both too warm and wild! Thy lightest thoughts and wishes wore Too passionate a strain ;— To such how often comes an hour, They never weep again! Thou wert of those whose very morn And on thy brow youth set the seal May scarcely weep again! Yet, once again, within thine eye, I see the waters start,— The fountains cannot all be dry Within so young a heart! Our love, which clouds have wrapt awhile, Thirsts for the spirit's rain, And I shall yet behold thee smile, Since thou hast wept again! |