Nathaniel Parker Willis

“ How cruelly it tries a broken heart,
To see a mirth in any thing it loves.
She stood at Abraham’s tent. Her lips were pressed [Pg 21]
Till the blood left them; and the wandering veins
Of her transparent forehead, were swelled out,
As if her pride would burst them. Her dark eye
Was clear and tearless, and the light of heaven,
Which made its language legible, shot back
From her long lashes, as it had been flame.
Her noble boy stood by her with his hand
Clasped in her own, and his round, delicate feet,
Scarce trained to balance on the tented floor,
Sandaled for journeying. ”

“ Like a rich harp string, yearning to caress thee,
And hear thy sweet “My Father!” from these dumb
And cold lips, Absalom!
‘The grave hath won thee; I shall hear the gush
Of music and the voices of the young;
And life will pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung;
But thou no more with thy sweet voice shalt come
To meet me, Absalom!
‘And oh! when I am stricken, and my heart
Like a bruised reed is waiting to be broken ”

“ A fallen world like heaven! I am made
Subject to ills, and erringly at best
May use my faculties; but I am here
With God’s best work about me, and a mind [Pg 48]
Humbly, but purely to the harmonies
Of nature tuned, the only looker on
In all this lovely paradise of light.
Blessed we sometimes are! and I am now
Happy in quiet feelings; for the tones
Of a most pleasant company of friends
Were in my ear but now, and gentle thoughts
From spirits whose high character I know,
Were spoken at the rising of the moon,
And I retain their influence, as the air
Retains the softness of departed day. ”

“ Morn breaketh in the east. The purple clouds
Are putting on their gold and violet,
To look the meeter for the sun’s bright coming.
Sleep is upon the waters and the wind;
And nature, from the tremulous forest leaf
To her majestic master, sleeps. As yet
There is no mist upon the deep blue sky,
And the clear dew is on the blushing bosoms
Of crimson roses, in a holy rest. ”

“ Sun and dew,
And the aroma of the spicy trees,
And all that giveth the delicious East
Its fitness for an Eden, stole like light
Into his spirit, ravishing his thoughts
With love and beauty. Every thing he met,
Floating or beautiful, the lightest wing
Of bird or insect, or the palest dye
Of the fresh flowers, won him from his path ”

“ Till God the cunning harp hath broken.
I would—but deeper things than these
With woman’s lot are wove;
Wrought of intenser sympathies,
And nerved by purer love.
By the strong spirit’s discipline,
By the fierce wrong forgiven,
By all that wrings the heart of sin,
Is woman won to heaven. ”

“ If heaven looks sad, and seas look dull,
And nature’s beauty is a blank—
I feel as if my heart were full
Of waters from oblivion drank;
For I forget, like flowers, the hue
Of beauty, without sun and dew. ”

“ How has the foot of nature trod
The pathway of a perfect God,
How are the springs of earnest thought
With his diviner cunning wrought,
If all that makes us feel our fate
Not altogether desolate—
This burning love for beautiful things, [Pg 60]
Is sealed among forbidden springs,
And we must throw a gift of fire
Aside like a neglected lyre?
[Pg 61]
BETTER MOMENTS.
My mother’s voice! how often creeps
Its cadence on my lonely hours,
Like healing sent on wings of sleep,
Or dew to the unconscious flowers!
I can forget her melting prayer
While leaping pulses madly fly ”

“ The glitter of the steeples on the hills
That swell up from the shore, and heavenly
As is the face of nature, they come in
Among her features like a pleasant smile,
The thought of worship is so beautiful.
Swiftly, yet gently on! How human things
Are sometimes like a witching vision, fair! ”

“ And delicate blossoms, and the painted flowers,
And every thing that bendeth to the dew,
And stirreth with the daylight, lifted up
Its beauty to the breath of that sweet morn.
All things are dark to sorrow ”

“ Complain, like delicate harp strings, at a breath;
But love in man is one deep principle,
Which, yielding not to lighter influence,
Abides the tempest. He rose up, and laid
The wood upon the altar. All was done. ”

“ O twilight hour! who art so very cool
And balmy in the summer eventide,
With thy rich breathing quieting the winds,
And the uneasy waters; twilight hour!
Whose mantle is the drapery of dreams,
And who hast ever been in poetry
Life’s holy time; thou who wert wont to steal
Upon us, as thy sandals were of dew! ”

“ Oh! when the heart is full, when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for utterance,
And the poor common words of courtesy
Are such a very mockery, how much
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer! ”

“ Might quell the lion. He led on; but thoughts
Seemed gathering round which troubled him. The veins
Upon his forehead were distinctly seen;
And his proud lip was painfully compressed.
He trod less firmly; and his restless eye
Glanced forward frequently, as if some ill
He dared not meet, were there. His home was near; [Pg 29]
And men were thronging, with that strange delight
They have in human passions, to observe
The struggle of his feelings with his pride. ”

“ To thy enquiring tenderness is hushed,
And thine endearments from mine eyes depart,
’Twill be enough for thee that life hath gushed,
Gently to loose the silver cord, and die,
And with me in my place of slumber lie. ”

“ Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember——.’
Wordsworth. I.
I have been gay tonight. The perfect moon
Is sitting up in heaven, and living stars
Are looking sweetly from the firmament;
All elements that live, and common things
In earth and sea tonight are beautiful ”

“ Createth its own destiny of power;
And as the trial is intenser here,
His being hath a nobler strength in heaven. ”

“ Slow! for it presses heavily;
It is a man ye bear!
Slow! for our thoughts dwell wearily
On the noble sleeper there.
Tread lightly, comrades! we have laid
His dark locks on his brow
Like life, save deeper light and shade ”

“ And mad ambition trumpeteth to all; ”

“ PAGE 47, LINE 12.
‘The glitter of the steeples on the hills.’
Every one who has made the passage of the St Lawrence, will remember the beautiful effect of the steeples on the shore. Occupying almost every swell on the low interval, and tiled universally with tin, they glisten in the moonlight like turrets of silver. It is even in [Pg 96] that majestic scenery an impressive and delightful feature.
PAGE 84, LINE 4.
‘Child of the sunny brow.’
Perhaps my book will be forgotten before the child, to whom these lines are addressed, is old enough to understand them ”

“ Man to a fine and true humanity.”
Barry Cornwall.’
In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, ‘An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned;’ and also to an act entitled ‘An act supplementary to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned ”