SONNET-THE POET.

O'ER the true poet's life there cometh never
The frost of age. His ardent soul sublime
Defies the petty tyrannies of Time,

And proudly laughs at envious Death's endeavour.
Though wanes the fleshly frame, his spirit ever

Is warm and radiant as the cloudless clime

Of Paradise, when earth was in her prime,

And none e'er dreamed that life and love could sever.
Though in the cold world common hearts may freeze,
And deem the poetry of life is dead,

The Muse's favored son no desert sees,

No winter feels. Her sunny smile can shed

A living beauty on the leafless trees,

And fill with summer thoughts a hoary head,

LINES.

ADDRESSED TO TWO SISTERS, AND WRITTEN IN THEIR ALBUM.

BRIGHT fragant bowers, and clouds of glorious hue-
Rich meadows in the yellow sunset sleeping-
Proud birds on radiant wings through regions blue
O'er hill and vale their course majestic keeping-

Gay butterflies, with gold and purple dotted,

[Flowers of the air for which earth's flowers seem made,]—

The couchant mountain like a leopard spotted,

'Neath freckled skies, with sunshine and with shade

The vast sea-waves-the shining level lake

Green nooks, where timid Peace is often hiding

Wild echoes that a mystic music make

The sound of waters through the lone wood gliding

Y 2

The rosy morn, bright noon, and eve serene

The twilight dim, by which the day is bounded-
The swarthy night, so like an Ethiop Queen,
In spangled vest, and by dark hosts surrounded,-
All sights and sounds that charm the eye or ear,
In loveliest landscapes and in sweetest hours,
Have fired my soul with feelings deep and dear
As e'er thrilled passionate bards of loftier

powers.

These are enchantments exquisite and true,
And seem to breathe a bright immortal story
Of happiness and Eden; for the hue

Is not quite gone of that fair garden's glory!
The Maker's hand is seen in all around,
Beauty and matchless art a God revealing,
And blind and dull as moles beneath the ground
They who for these have neither sight nor feeling.

Yet hill and dale and ocean and the sky,
And living things that own not mind's relation,
Though lovely, never to the heart or eye
Are dearest, fairest of our God's creation.

Thought kindleth thought, and soul is linked to soul;
We yearn for interchange of every feeling;
We pant for sympathy-the aim-the goal
Of earthly dreams and of all human dealing.

I love the hill and dale, the sea and sky,
I love their happy tenants,-but oh! never
Could this warm heart renounce communion high
With spiritual life-from human converse sever!
pass from clime to clime, from scene to scene,
And sadness steals upon each farewell hour;
'Tis hard to look with steadfast eye serene
For the last time upon a bird or flower ;-
But never have I gazed on human face,
And knew 'twould seem a dream upon the
[A distant phantom difficult to trace]
Without a pensive sigh, or tear of sorrow.

morrow,

Oh! then, ye sister spirits, fair and kind,

With merriment and song my sad heart cheering,
When glides my bark before the southern wind,
And like a cloud the land is disappearing,
Believe me I shall feel, alas! too well,

This bitter truth-how painful is all parting!
Yet while I breathe my lingering, last farewell,
And while into mine eyes dim tears are starting-
"Twill surely something soothe that hour's emotion
To think this simple lay my name may save,
When I am wandering far o'er land and ocean,
Or haply slumbering in the silent grave.

Penang, 1842.

FAREWELL STANZAS.

I.

No brighter form e'er flashed on poet's dream
Than thine, dear lady, virtuous as thou'rt fair,
Pure as the first gush of a mountain stream,
Serene and soft as is the summer air.

II.

I've drank the magic of thy voice in song,

I've watched the pictured wonders of thine hand;
Not sweeter sounds the vocal woods prolong,

Not fairer hues enrobe the sea and land.

III.

A galaxy of charms-a priceless dower-
Wit, genius, worth, and loveliness are thine;
If fortune on the crowd such gifts could shower
This world might seem unspeakably divine.

IV.

But briar and barren weed and poisonous plant,
Outnumber and o'ergrow the fruits and flowers;
The finer spells that hallow and enchant

The pressure of the vulgar throng o'erpowers.

V.

Thy sweetly moulded form-thine angel face-
The music of thy voice-the blended air
Of artless innocence and mental grace-
The radiant spirit Time itself shall spare-

VI.

Oh! the dear memory of charms like these
Can ne'er desert and disenchant the heart!
The wanderer's soul its distant idol sees
And not in utter darkness I depart.

VII.

From day's enamoured eye yon western hill
Conceals the sun, but not its lingering light,

And thus the severing screen of distance still
Thine image leaves till death's all-curtaining night.
Penang, 1842.

MORNING LANDSCAPE IN PENANG.

A VIEW FROM 66 THE GREAT HILL."

DAY dimly breaks.

From this aerial height

I downward gaze in wonder; for the scene
Hath wildly changed! The sylvan villas white,
Small winding paths, and shadowy groves serene,
The miniature town, the sea so blue and bright,
The speck-like ships, the little islets green
That yester-eve in smiling beauty lay,
Silently basking in the sun's last ray,
Have vanished all-as if they ne'er had been,
Save in the dreams that beautify the night
But melt away beneath the morning light;
Or as some lovely vision made to pass
In shifting hues across the Wizard's glass.

From the broad base of this calm mountain high
O'er grove, o'er town, o'er ocean's severing stream,
And o'er wide plains beyond, to where the sky
Is pierced by hoary Kedah, (lord supreme
Of all Malayan hills,) the white clouds lie,
Layer on layer, like leagues of stainless snow,
Opaque and fixed, as if in vain would blow
The summer winds, in vain the solar ray
Shine on their frozen forms.

While thus the scene,

Like Eastern bride beneath a jealous screen,
Curtaineth its varied charms, a stranger's eye
Might pass the desolate blank regardless by,