And the image of that sire, who died And a spirit from his early years Came back o'er his thoughts to move, For there they hung, the shield and lance, And the sword of many a field was there, When the knight's bold war-cry hath sunk in prayer, And the spear is a broken reed! -Hush! did a breeze through the armour sigh? He had heard that voice bid clarions blow, He had caught its last blessing's breath'Twas the same-but its awful sweetness now Had an under-tone of death! And it said" The sword hath conquer'd kings, And the spear through realms hath pass'd; But the cross, alone, of all these things, Might aid me at the last." THE HEART OF BRUCE. 113 THE HEART OF BRUCE IN MELROSE ABBEY. HEART! that did'st press forward still,* Aught that so could beat and burn? Heart! that lovedst the clarion's blast, Sings where once the mass was heard; Comes through flowers or fretted stone; No! brave heart! though cold and lone, "Now pass thou forward, as thou wert wont, and Douglas will follow thee or die!" With these words Douglas threw from him the heart of Bruce into mid-battle against the Moors of Spain. Sweeping past thy lowly bed, Is the noble Douglas nigh, Wins me from their splendours brief; Nor, amidst its lone domain, Call the faith in relics vain! NATURE'S FAREWELL. "The beautiful is vanish'd, and returns not." COLERIDGE's Wallenstein. A YOUTH rode forth from his childhood's home, NATURE'S FAREWELL. 115 "Knew'st thou with what thou art parting here, Long would'st thou linger in doubt and fear; Thy heart's light laughter, thy sunny hours, Thou hast left in our shades with the spring's wild flowers. "Under the arch by our mingling made, On rode the youth-and the boughs among, "Thou may'st come to the summer woods again, On rode the youth-and the founts and streams "Listen but once to the sound of our mirth! For thee 'tis a melody passing from earth. Never again wilt thou find in its flow, The peace it could once on thy heart bestow. "Thou wilt visit the scenes of thy childhood's glee, With the breath of the world on thy spirit free; Passion and sorrow its depth will have stirr❜d, "Thou wilt bear in our gladsome laugh no partWhat should it do for a burning heart? Thou wilt bring to the banks of our freshest rill, Thirst which no fountain on earth may still. "Farewell!—when thou comest again to thine own, Thou wilt miss from our music its loveliest tone; Mournfully true is the tale we tell Yet on, fiery dreamer! farewell, farewell!" And a something of gloom on his spirit weigh'd As he caught the last sounds of his native shade; But he knew not, till many a bright spell broke, How deep were the oracles Nature spoke! THE BEINGS OF THE MIND. "The beings of the mind are not of clay; Essentially immortal, they create And multiply in us a brighter ray, And more beloved existence; that which Fate COME to me with your triumphs and BYRON. your woes, Ye forms, to life by glorious poets brought! I sit alone with flowers, and vernal boughs, In the deep shadow of a voiceless thought; |