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قراءة كتاب Lays of Ancient Virginia, and Other Poems
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 4
class="verse">No more could grief or joy disturb her breast.
Soft by her tomb let musing Fancy move!
Let not a sound of thoughtlessness molest
The melancholy spot of her eternal rest!
Her fair form sank low in the gloomy earth—
Her spirit soared and found a brighter home,
Where now with sun-bright smiles, she wanders forth,
Beneath the glories of a heavenly dome;
Where Seraphs o'er bright fields forever roam,
And flowers aloft Life's never dying tree,
Whither no evil thing can ever come;
Where now she blends her heart and harp to sing
A ceaseless song of praise to her Eternal King.
But oft the eye which scans yon ruin old,
Where Jamestown erst in simple grandeur rose,
Shall fill with tears—as there it doth behold—
For it will speak to him of heroes' woes,
Felt erewhile whence this river gently flows,—
And sprang this famous, Hero-bearing State;—
And while with pride his patriot bosom glows,
His heart her gentle history will relate,
And warmly laud her deeds, and mourn her early fate.
[A] Jamestown.
[B] Whip-poor-will.
A SONG.
Amid the tempest, wild and dark,
Upon Life's troubled sea;
One only star illumes the scene,
With heavenly brilliancy.
Oh! sweetly o'er the howling deeps,
Its venturing beam shines out;
And bright, relieves my weeping eye,
And calms my soul from doubt.
That star is pure Religion's light.
A pole star, calm but blest,
It guides my lost and trembling bark,
To Heaven's sweet port of rest.
ELFINDALE.
PART FIRST.
Sweet Frankie lives in Elfindale;
Where all the flowers are fair, and frail
(Like her fair self,) a slender fairy,
And like a zephyr, playsome, airy,
But lovelier far, than buxom Mary.
Now, since I saw her full, bright eyes,
And heard her tongue's rich melodies,
Solace the evening air,
Sweet Elfindale, e'er loved of yore,
Has grown more fair, beloved more,
A part of some fay-walked shore,
A haunt of beauties rare.
The gay dawn smells more fragrant there,
(When youthful May, new, fresh and fair,
Comes, bird-like through the laughing air,)
Than it was even of old;
And Evening throws a richer dress,
(O'er Elfindale's mild loveliness,)
Of fading pink and gold.
The moonlight nights are lovelier now,
On silent Elfindale;
More pure the beams, more soft the glow,
That sleeps upon the vale:
So much of beauty God hath given
To sweetest Frankie—gracious Heaven!
She spares so much to beautify,
Fair Elfindale to my charm'd eye,—
And yet she loses none at all
Of that which holds my soul in thrall.
Now, if my harp shall echo well,
The story of her life, and tell,
In worthy feet, her beauty's power
That flourished as a springtime flower,
I shall be richer, happier far
Than one should own a round, bright star.
And what if the fair maid should smile,
To hear my warbled strain?
Ah! that would all my grief beguile,
Undo the life of Pain.
I one time saw a laughing mirth
Leap in the maiden's eyes,
And thought the too aspiring earth
Had robbed the jewelled skies,
Of one bright angel, even her:
She made my very being stir.
I ne'er saw sweet Frankie's mother,
What I had glowed to see,
Yet think no mortal earth's another,
Bore child so fair as she.
I ween that mother was a queen
In royal qualities,
And in her lofty eyes and mien,
Lurked lovely majesties.
I ne'er saw sweet Frankie's mother,
What I had glowed to see;
But cannot, long-lost mother! smother
The love that swells for thee.
When Frankie came into this world,
In lovely Elfindale,
The winds were lulled, and waves lay curled,
Beneath the moonlight pale:
The cold stars twinkled far above,
And danced, with their bright eyes of love;
The gleaming waters did rejoice,
And breathed a soft, enamored voice;
The sleeping zephyr on his flowers,
Awaked to bless the gliding hours
Which gave this tiny being, birth,
A bliss, a Blessing to the earth.
She was, in truth, a beauteous child:
At three years old her eyes were wild
With something of a playfulness;
And then she had the softest tress
Of auburn tint, that fell and flew
About her neck of damask hue.
To watch throughout the Summer day,
The butterfly's capricious play,
Or humming bird's bright, rainbow wings,
And all gay, joyous, natural things.
To hear the poets of the grove,
Sing forth their little lays of love;