Felicia Hemans

“ And joy departs, to wean us from the earth,
Where still too long, with beings born to die,
Time hath dominion o'er Eternity.
Yet not the less, o'er all the heart hath lost,
Shall Faith rejoice, when Nature grieves the most. ”

“ Shall see those limbs, of nature's finest mould,
Bare to the sultry sun, or midnight cold,
And, in long wanderings o'er a desert land,
Those tender feet imprint the scorching sand.
"Yet more, yet deeper woe, shall those behold
Who live through toils unequall'd and untold! ”

“ Bandusian fount, than crystal far more bright!
To-morrow shall a sportive kid be thine,
Whose forehead swells with horns of infant might:
Ev'n now of love and war he dreams in vain,
Doom'd with his blood thy gelid wave to stain. ”

“ Power, e'en though nature o'er the untimely grave
Must weep, when God resumes the gem He gave;
For sorrow comes of Death,
And with a yearning heart we linger on,
When they, whose glance unlock'd its founts, are gone! ”

“ With festal villagers from toil set free.
Then from the wolf no more the lambs retreat,
Then shower the woods to thee their foliage round;
And the glad labourer triumphs that his feet
In triple dance have struck the hated ground. ”

“ Well may I tell thee that his limbs and height,
In vast dimensions and stupendous might,
Surpass'd that wonder, once the sculptor's boast,
The proud Colossus of the Rhodian coast
Deep was his voice—in hollow tones he spoke,
As if from ocean's inmost caves they broke;
And but that form to view, that voice to hear,
Spread o'er our flesh and hair cold deadly thrills of fear.
"O daring band!" he cried, "far, far more bold
Than all whose deeds recording fame has told;
Adventurous spirits! whom no bounds of fear
Can teach one pause in rapine's fierce career ”

“ Or, sprung from some ignoble race
If not a roof be thine?
Since the dread lot for all must leap
Forth from the dark revolving urn,
And we must tempt the gloomy deep,
Whence exiles ne'er return. ”

“ WRITTEN ON THE FIRST LEAF OF THE ALBUM OF THE SAME.
What first should consecrate as thine,
The volume, destined to be fraught
With many a sweet and playful line,
With many a pure and pious thought? ”