SOUNDS AT SEA. THE weary sea is tranquil, and the breeze Our lonely dwelling on the dusky main. But yet the visionary soul is stirred, While fancy hears full many a far-off strain Float o'er the conscious sea!-The scene and hour Control the spirit with mysterious power; And wild unutterable thoughts arise, That make us yearn to pierce the starry skies! STANZAS TO MY CHILD. I. I GAZE on thy sweet face, My lightly laughing boy! And charms no painter's hand could trace While pleasure almost turns to pain, Till tears too sweet for those who grieve II. And e'en when sorrow's hour Brings gloom upon my soul, And shades o'er Life's dull landscape lour Like clouds that slowly roll Round solemn Twilight's dusky car, Thine image kindles as a star, To cheer me and console, And dreary thoughts and mournful dreams Soon pass like mist 'neath morning beams. III. For in that bright blue eye Still glow the rays of bliss, Like lustre from an azure sky, Or realms more fair than this. Though vexed with worldly cares I roam, That greets thy fresh and rosy charms IV. This heart indeed were cold To feeling's gentle sway, If while thy fairy form I fold, And those small fingers play Around my neck, thy face the while Or that calm sullen language wear V. I have not darkly roved O'er Nature's fair domain, Nor gazed on sun-lit scenes unmoved And far less could my soul disown The light round sinless children thrown That ne'er can shine again When years bring guilt, and life no more Is bright and joyous as before. VI. I see my own first hours, While lingering over thine; I see thee pluck the fresh spring-flowers, An artless wreath to twine; The same bright hues their beauty yields As those I sought in dewy fields, When kindred bliss was mine; And while by memory thus beguiled, VII. How oft the phantom Care Hath swiftly passed away, As some night-bird that may not dare While half unconsciously mine eye Around my lips, nor could refrain, VIII. I've watched thy little wiles, A thousand times and more, And yet they win my ready smiles As freely as before; Thy dear, familiar, prattled words Are sweeter than the songs of birds On some calm sun-lit shore ; Each new grace brings as proud surprize As lights a star-discoverer's eyes. IX. E'en "thrice-told tales" are sweet That cheerful children tell, On sounds their lovely lips repeat The ear for aye could dwell; Unlike all other things of earth Their winning ways and sinless mirth Still hold us as a spell; In every mood, in every hour They bear the same enchanting power. X. Ah! dearest child, if thou A child couldst thus remain, And I for ever gaze as now On one without a stain Of earthly guilt or earthly care, With heart as pure and form as fair Methinks e'en this drear world might seem A heaven as sweet as man could dream! XI. But mortal flowerets grow "Till all their bright tints fade, And thy maturer bloom must know The bleak world's tempest-shade ;Thine eyes a father's fall shall trace, His form shall sink before thy face, And when thine heart hath paid Its tribute brief of natural tears, Thou'lt seek awhile what soothes and cheers. XII. As I now gaze on thee E'en thou perchance shall gaze "Till he to sterner manhood grown Shall follow in the track thou'st trod. |