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| AND 1 am I doom’d to be denied for ever | |
| The blessings that to all around are given? | |
| And shall those links be reunited never, | |
| That bound me to mankind till they were riven | |
| In childhood’s day? Alas! how soon to sever | 5 |
| From social intercourse, the doom of heaven | |
| Was pass’d upon me! And the hope how vain, | |
| That the decree may be recall’d again. | |
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| Amid a throng in deep attention bound, | |
| To catch the accents that from others fall, | 10 |
| The flow of eloquence, the heavenly sound | |
| Breathed from the soul of melody, while all | |
| Instructed or delighted list around, | |
| Vacant unconsciousness must me enthrall! | |
| I can but watch each animated face, | 15 |
| And there attempt th’ inspiring theme to trace. | |
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| Unheard, unheeded are the lips by me, | |
| To others that unfold some heaven-born art, | |
| And melody—Oh, dearest melody! | |
| How had thine accents thrilling to my heart. | 20 |
| Awaken’d all its strings to sympathy, | |
| Bidding the spirit at thy magic start! | |
| How had my heart responsive to the strain, | |
| Throbb’d in love’s wild delight or soothing pain | |
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| In vain—alas, in vain! thy numbers roll— | 25 |
| Within my heart no echo they inspire; | |
| Though form’d by nature in thy sweet control, | |
| To melt with tenderness, or glow with fire, | |
| Misfortune closed the portals of the soul; | |
| And till an Orpheus rise to sweep the lyre, | 30 |
| That can to animation kindle stone, | |
| To me thy thrilling power must be unknown. * * * * * * | |
| And none are more exquisitely awake | |
| To nature’s loveliness than those who feel | |
| The inspiration of the muse—who take | 35 |
| From her the glowing thoughts that as they steal | |
| Around the soul entranced, a goddess make | |
| Of nature to whose shrine of beauty kneel, | |
| The fond enthusiasts adoring all | |
| Within her we may dread or lovely call. | 40 |
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| The terrible in nature is to them | |
| The beautiful, and they can with delight | |
| Behold the tempest, and its wrath contemn, | |
| Stationed upon some rock whose quivering height | |
| Is by the spirit swept, whose diadem | 45 |
| In burning terror wreathes the brow of night, | |
| While the rude winds their cave of slumber rend, | |
| And to the loud-voiced thunders answer send. | |
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| Yet, Nature, not alone when stern and wild | |
| Canst thou the homage of the bard awaken, | 50 |
| Still art thou worshipp’d by the muse’s child, | |
| When thou thy throne of terrors hast forsaken; | |
| With darkness when thy brow is undefiled, | |
| When scarce a leaflet of thy robe is shaken | |
| By zephyrs that soft music murmuring, | 55 |
| Around thee wave their aromatic wing. | |
| |
| When first the queen of night in beauty rides, | |
| That with the glory of Apollo vies, | |
| One star alone through heaven’s azure glides, | |
| That when ten thousand thousand robe the skies, | 60 |
| Preeminent in beauty still presides; | |
| To her the lover’s and the poet’s eyes | |
| Are ever fondly turned to hail the power | |
| That smiles such loveliness upon the hour. | |
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| How often have I watch’d the star of even, | 65 |
| When eyes of heaven’s own etherial blue, | |
| Have follow’d mine to gaze upon the heaven, | |
| Where they as on a mirror’s face might view | |
| The bright and beautiful reflection given, | |
| Of their own starry light and azure hue! | 70 |
| But she beholding night’s resplendent throne, | |
| Of nature’s beauty thought, and not her own. | |
| |
| I thought of both—if earth appear so fair, | |
| How glorious the world beyond the skies; | |
| And if the form that heaven-born spirits wear, | 75 |
| This earthly shrine so fascinate our eyes, | |
| To kneel in worship we can scarce forbear, | |
| And e’en to gaze on thine is paradise. | |
| O what are those who free from earthly stain, | |
| Above yon azure realms in bloom immortal reign? | 80 |
