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From clime to clime the wanderer loved to roam, The waves his heritage, the world his home.

Then first Columbus, with the mighty hand
Of grasping genius, weigh'd the sea and land;
The floods o'erbalanced : where the tide of light,
Day after day, rollid down the gulf of night,
There seem'd one waste of waters : long in vain
His spirit brooded o'er the Atlantic main;
When sudden, as creation burst from naught,
Sprang a new world, through his stupendous thought,
Light, order, beauty! While his mind explored
The unveiling mystery, his heart adored ;
Where'er sublime imagination trod,
He heard the voice, he saw the face of God.

Far from the western cliffs he cast his eye
O'er the wide ocean stretching to the sky:
In calm magnificence the sun declined,
And left a paradise of clouds behind :
Proud at his feet, with pomp of pearl and gold,
The billows in a sea of glory rollid.

“ Ah! on this sea of glory might I sail,
Track the bright sun, and pierce the eternal veil
That hides those lands, beneath Hesperian skies,
Where daylight sojourns till our morrow rise !"

Thoughtful he wander'd on the beach alone;
Mild o'er the deep the vesper planet shone,
The eye of evening, brightening through the west
Till the sweet moment when it shut to rest :
“Whither, oh golden Venus! art thou fled ?
Not in the ocean-chambers lies thy bed ;
Round the dim world thy glittering chariot drawn,
Pursues the twilight or precedes the dawn ;
Thy beauty noon and midnight never see,
The morn and eve divide the year with thee."

Soft fell the shades, till Cynthia's slender bow Crested the farthest wave, then sunk below :

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“ Tell me, resplendent guardian of the night,
Circling the sphere in thy perennial flight,
What secret path of heaven thy smiles adorn,
What nameless sea reflects thy gleaming horn ?"

Now earth and ocean vanish’d, all serene
The starry firmament alone was seen ;
Through the slow, silent hours, he watch'd the host
Of midnight suns in western darkness lost,
Till Night himself, on shadowy pinions borne,
Fled o'er the mighty waters, and the morn
Danced on the mountains : “Lights of heaven!” he
“ Lead on : I go to win a glorious bride ; (cried,
Fearless o'er gulfs unknown I urge my way,
Where peril prowls, and shipwreck lurks for prey:
Hope swells my sail; in spirit I behold
That maiden world, twin-sister of the old,
By Nature nursed beyond the jealous sea,
Denied to ages, but betrothed to me."


There is a land, of every land the pride, Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; Where brighter suns dispense serener light, And milder moons emparadise the night; A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth, Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth ; The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so beautiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air ; In every clime the magnet of his soul, Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole; For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace, The heritage of Nature's noblest race, There is a spot of earth supremely bless'd, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,

Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his soften'd looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend :
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wise,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.
“ Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found ?"
Art thou a man? a patriot? look around;
Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home!


THERE is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found,
They softly lie and sweetly sleep

Low in the ground.
The storm that wrecks the winter sky
No more disturbs their deep repose,
Than summer evening's latest sigh

That shuts the rose.
I long to lay this painful head
And aching heart beneath the soil,
To slumber in that dreamless bed

From all my toil.
For Misery stole me at my birth,
And cast me helpless on the wild :
I perish; oh! my mother Earth,

Take home thy child.
On thy dear lap these limbs reclined,
Shall gently moulder into thee;
Nor leave one wretched trace behind

Resembling me.

Hark! a strange sound affrights mine ear:
My pulse, my brain runs wild--I rave;
Ah! who art thou whose voice I hear?

“I am the Grave !"

The Grave, that never spake before, Hath found at length a tongue to chide : Oh, listen! I will speak no more :

Be silent, Pride!

“ Art thou a wretch of hope forlorn,
The victim of consuming care ?
Is thy distracted conscience torn

By fell despair ?

“ Do soul misdeeds of former times Wring with remorse thy guilty breast? And ghosts of unforgiven crimes

Murder thy rest ?

“ Lash'd by the furies of the mind, From Wrath and Vengeance wouldst thou flee? Ah! think not, hope not, fool, to find

A friend in me.

“By all the terrors of the tomb, Beyond the power of tongue to tell ; By the dread secrets of my wonib;

By Death and Hell;

“I charge thee Live! repent and pray,
In dust thine infamy deplore ;
There yet is mercy : go thy way,

And sin no more.

“ Art thou a MOURNER? Hast thou known
The joy of innocent delights,
Endearing days for ever down,

And tranquil nights ?

Oh Live! and deeply cherish still The sweet remembrance of the past; Rely on Heaven's unchanging will

For peace at last.

66 Art thou a WANDERER ? Hast thou seen O’erwhelming tempests drown thy bark ? A shipwreck'd sufferer, hast thou been

Misfortun mark?

“ Though long of winds and waves the sport, Condemn'd in wretchedness to roam, Live! thou shalt reach a sheltering port,

A quiet home. 6 TO FRIENDSHIP didst thou trust thy fame, And was thy friend a deadly foe, Who stole into thy breast to aim

A surer blow?

“ Live! and repine not o'er his loss,
A loss unworthy to be told :
Thou hast mistaken sordid dross

For friendship's gold.

“Seek the true treasure, seldom found, Of power the fiercest griefs to calm, And sooth the bosom's deepest wound

With heavenly balm.

“ Did woman's charms thy youth beguile,
And did the fair one faithless prove ?
Hath she betray'd thee with a smile,

And sold thy love?
“ LIVE! 'Twas a false, bewildering fire :
Too often Love's insidious dart
Thrills the fond soul with wild desire,

But kills the heart.

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