THE SCULPTURED CHILDREN. And faded locks that humbly swept the ground, Did'st bow thee to the earth, oh, lest and found' And many a shower of woman's burning tear, From the crown'd beauty of its festal Did he reject thee then, While the sharp scorn of men year. On thy once bright and stately head was cast? A solemn light serene, Bore to thy soul the peace of God at last. For thee, their smiles no more Familiar faces wore; Voices, once kind, had learn'd the stranger's tone; Thy silent spirit's wound? He, from all guilt the stainless, He alone! But which oh, erring child! Which of thine offerings won those words of Heaven, Condemn'd of earth to bleed, In music pass'd," Thy sins are all forgiven?" From the sweet woods of Araby the bless'd? Of tears, which, not in vain To Him who scorn'd not tears, thy woes confess'd? Thy peace, that kindled joy in Heaven, was made; By that bless'd sacrifice, Thy heart, thy full-deep heart, before Him laid. 293 THE SCULPTURED CHILDREN, ON CHANTRY'S MONUMENT IN LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL. THE monument by Chantrey in Lichfield Cathedral, to the memory of the two children of Mrs. Robinson, is one of the most affecting works of art ever executed. He has given a pathos to marble which one who trusts to his natural feelings, and admires, and is touched only at their bidding, might have thought from any previous experience that it was out of the power of statuary to attain. The monument is executed with all his beautiful simplicity and truth. The two children, two little girls, are represented as lying in each other's arms, and, at first glance, appear to be sleeping: "But something lies, Too deep and still on those soft sealed eyes." It is while lying in the helplessness of innocent sleep, that infancy and childhood are viewed with the most touching interest; and this and the loveliness of the children, the uncertainty of the expression at first view, the dim shadowing forth of that sleep from which they cannot be awakened, their hovering, as it were, upon the confines of life, as if they might still be recalled, all conspire to render the last feeling, that death is indeed before us, most deeply affecting. They were the only children of their mother, and she was a widow. A tablet commemorative of their father hangs over the monument. This stands at the end of one of the side aisles of the choir, where there is nothing to distract the attention from it, or weaken its effect. It may be contemplated in silence and alone. The inscription, in that subdued tone of strong feeling which seeks no relief in words, harmonizes with the character of the whole. It is as follows: Sacred to the Memory of ELLEN JANE and MARIANNE, only children Of the late Rev. WILLIAM ROBINSON, and ELLEN JANE, his wife, In fond remembrance of their heaven-loved innocence, In humble gratitude for the glorious assurance, FAIR images of sleep, Hallow'd, and soft, and deep, On whose calm lids the dreamy quiet lies, Like moonlight on shut bells Of flowers, in mossy dells, A. N Fill'd with the hush of night and summer skies! How many hearts have felt Your silent beauty melt Their strength to gushing tenderness away How many sudden tears, From depths of buried years All freshly bursting, have confess'd your sway! How many eyes will shed Still, o'er your marble bed, Such drops from memory's troubled fountains wrung- While love breathes mortal air, Yet from a voiceless home, If some sad mother come, *From the Offering, an American annual. WOMAN AND FAME. Fondly to linger o'er your lovely rest, Of babes that grew and faded on her breast; Of those faint murmurs gone, O'er her sick sense too piercingly return; And brow and bosom fair, And life, now dust, her soul too deeply yearn ; Like tendrils, which the wind May wave, so clasp'd, but never can unlink! A still small voice-a sound Of hope, forbidding that lone heart to sink! By childhood's love-too bright a bloom to die' O fairest, holiest dead! The faith, trust, joy, of immortality! WOMAN AND FAME. THOU hast a charmed cup, O Fame! Away! to me-a woman-bring Sweet waters from affection's spring. Thou hast green laurel leaves, that twine For that resplendent gift of thine, Heroes have smiled in death: Give me from some kind hand a flower, Thou hast a voice, whose thrilling tone As when a trumpet's note hath blown, But mine, let mine-a woman's breast, A hollow sound is in thy song, A mockery in thine eye, To the sick heart that doth but long 295 For kindly looks to cheer it on, For tender accents that are gone. Fame, Fame! thou canst not be the stay The cool fresh fountain in the day Of the soul's feverish need: Where must the lone one turn or flee ?- A THOUGHT OF THE FUTURE. DREAMER! and would'st thou know If love goes with us to the viewless bourne ? Would'st thou bear hence th' unfathom'd source of woe In thy heart's lonely urn? What hath it been to thee, That power, the dweller of thy secret breast? A precious odor cast On a wild stream, that recklessly swept by: Even were such answer thine Would'st thou be bless'd ?-too sleepless, too profound, Do not words faint and fail When thou would'st fill them with that ocean's power? Doth not thy frail form sink Beneath the chain that binds thee to one spot, Is not thy very soul Oft in the gush of powerless blessing shed, And would'st thou bear all this- Not thus, not thus-oh, no! Not veil'd and mantled with dim clouds of care, THE VOICE OF MUSIC. That spirit of my soul should with me go To breathe celestial air. But as the skylark springs To its own sphere, where night afar is driven, Vainly it shall not strive There on weak words to pour a stream of fire; And oh its blessings there Shower'd like rich balsam forth on some dear head, Let me, then-let me dream That love goes with us to the shore unknown; THE VOICE OF MUSIC. 297 "Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound.” Childe Harold WHENCE is the might of thy master-spell? How call'st thou back, with a note, a sigh, Speak to me, voice of sweet sound, and tell! What is thy power, from the soul's deep spring Therefore a current of sadness deep, Through the stream of thy triumphs is heard to sweep |