THE VICTOR. "De tout ce qui t'aimoit n'est-il plus rien qui t'aime ?” MIGHTY Ones, Love and Death! Ye are the strong in this world of ours, LAMARTINE. Ye meet at the banquets, ye dwell 'midst the flowers, -Which hath the conqueror's wreath? Thou art the victor, Love! Thou art the fearless, the crown'd, the free, Thou hast look'd on Death, and smiled! No! Thou art the victor, Death! Thou comest, and where is that which spoke, Thou comest-and what is left Of the spirit lone and reft? Silence is where thou art! Silently there must kindred meet, No smile to cheer, and no voice to greet, LINES FOR THE ALBUM AT ROSANNA. 239 Boast not thy victory, Death! It is but as the cloud's o'er the sunbeam's power, It is but as the winter's o'er leaf and flower, That slumber, the snow beneath. It is but as a tyrant's reign O'er the voice and the lip which he bids be still: But the fiery thought and the lofty will, Are not for him to chain! They shall soar his might above! And thus with the root whence affection springs, LINES WRITTEN FOR THE ALBUM AT OH! lightly tread through these deep chestnut-bowers Where a sweet spirit once in beauty moved! And touch with reverent hand these leaves and flowers, Fair things, which well a gentle heart hath loved! A gentle heart, of love and grief th' abode, Whence the bright stream of song in tear-drops flow'd. And bid its memory sanctify the scene! And let th' ideal presence of the dead A beautiful place in the county of Wicklow, formerly the abode of the authoress of "Psyche." Float round, and touch the woods with softer green, And o'er the streams a charm, like moonlight, shed; Through the soul's depths in holy silence feltA spell to raise, to chasten, and to melt! THE VOICE OF THE WAVES. WRITTEN NEAR THE SCENE OF A RECENT SHIPWRECK. "How perfect was the calm! It seem'd no sleep, I could have fancied that the mighty deep Was even the gentlest of all gentle things. And frequent sights of what is to be borne." WORDSWORTH. ANSWER, ye chiming waves! That now in sunshine sweep; Hath man's lone spirit here With storms in battle striven? -Then the sea's voice arose, THE VOICE OF THE WAVES. 241 "Here to the quivering mast Despair hath wildly clung, The shriek upon the wind hath pass'd, "And the youthful and the brave "They are vanish'd from their place Let their homes and hearths make moan! -Alas! thou haughty deep! To think that so we pass, High hope, and thought, and mind, Even as the breath-stain from the glass, Leaving no sign behind! Saw'st thou nought else, thou main? Thou and the midnight sky? Nought save the struggle, brief and vain, The parting agony ! -And the sea's voice replied, "Here nobler things have been! Power with the valiant when they died, VOL. VI. 21 Float round, and touch the woods with softer green, And o'er the streams a charm, like moonlight, shed; Through the soul's depths in holy silence felt— A spell to raise, to chasten, and to melt! THE VOICE OF THE WAVES. WRITTEN NEAR THE SCENE OF A RECENT SHIPWRECK. "How perfect was the calm! It seem'd no sleep, I could have fancied that the mighty deep But welcome fortitude and patient cheer, ANSWER, ye chiming waves! WORDSWORTH. That now in sunshine sweep; Hath man's lone spirit here With storms in battle striven? -Then the sea's voice arose, Like an earthquake's under-tone : "Mortal, the strife of human woes Where hath not nature known? |