IN MEMORY OF LEONARD F. APTHORP, A FRIEND
AND CLASSMATE OF THE AUTHOR.
SOON the pale Scholar learneth that the star
That lured him on, but leadeth to the grave;
And that the images of sombre stain
Are ever with life's tissue bright, inwrought.
And such a one, but yesternight I saw
Placed where Ambition's dream shall vex no more.
He saw the sparkles in life's golden cup,
And fain would deeply of its sweets have quaffed, But never lived to learn the poison of the draught.
Departed friend! thy brethren all have passed
From that still spot which sepulchres thy dust,
To mingle in earth's noisier scenes, to walk
In life's tumultuous, and thronging path.
Yet as the traveler at the close of day
Will pause to view the darkening landscape round, O'er which the Day's long pilgrimage had been, So we, in later years will love to view
In memory's dream, those scenes we walked with you.
I oft have sat at that still hour, when slow From her dim hall, the purple Twilight stole, And shut the shadowy landscape from the view, To mark the picture thy warm fancy drew Of coming life,-its triumph and its joys. Alas, fond dreamer, all thy colored hopes Are buried now beneath the Church-yard Stone, The crumbling mould is now thy narrow bed, And the rank church-yard weed waves mournful o'er thy head.
ON RECOVERY FROM ILLNESS.
How sweet the rest kind nature brings,
As now she bids my sorrow cease,
And comes with healing on her wings
To give this aching brow release.
This kindly air so sweet and mild,
That greets me like affection's voice, She sends to soothe her suffering child, And make my drooping heart rejoice.
Hope with unruffled plumes once more Broods buoyant on my tranquil breast, As when the raging storm is o'er
Some light bird floats on waves at rest.
Thanks, gentle friends, whose tender care
Has poured these blessings on my head,
And o'er the gloom of dark despair
The rays of warm affection shed,
SOMETIMES We wander to the Fairy Land,
Where the soul dances and her wings expand :—
Fair Land-its turf all brightened o'er with flowers,
And dewy shrubbery, and moonlight bowers,
Retreat of glittering Fancy's vagrant powers.
Fair Heaven!-—where many colored clouds enfold,
Bright islets floating in the sea of gold!
Proud domes and palaces are shining there,
With ivory columns, gemmed with fire-stained spar!
There wanton Zephyrs dance on budding flowers,
And waft the fragrant leaves in snowy showers ;—
By sunny banks, the silver waters whirl
A wildering music o'er their sands of pearl;
And birds are singing from their star-lit bowers,
To lull the sleeping of the blue eyed Hours !—
Light things are flitting in this world of air;
Gay creatures born of thought, are dwelling there ;
The Elfin race, who bathe in dews of morn;
And climb the rainbow of the summer storm,-
Floating about, in thinnest robes of light,
From meteors caught, that shoot along the night.
Crowns, studded o'er with gems, their brows adorn,
Stole from the eyelids of the waking morn!
They wave bright sceptres wrought of moonlight
beams,
And spears of chrystal, tinged with lightning gleams!
Young naked loves are sporting on the main,
Or glide on clouds along the etherial plain !
Their snowy breasts floating the waves among,
Are kissed by shapes of light, and swim along
In liquid sapphire-with their humid locks
Dropping thick diamonds o'er the mossy rocks !—
The sea green realm, is all with emeralds shining,
With rainbow arches o'er the depths reclining !—
And other skies are deeply rolling under,
With clouds of trembling flame and slumbering
thunder !
And minstrels blow their horns of tulip flowers!
In echoes softly from their air-borne towers,
Floats back the music, with a dreamy sound,—
A dove-winged presence, hovering around!
Visions of Joy, in sun-robed garments sporting—
Dear Loves, with gay looks in green pathways
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