Classic Poem

Historic lights athwart thy brow are cast;
And while I gaze on thee, from night's profound,
Bright forms, starry crown'd, come crowding round,
Their lucid outlines gleaming thro' the past.
'Twas with such eyes, the sorceress of Nile
Ambition charmed to rest in Cæsar's heart,
And if Scotch Mary, playing foulest part,
Subdued men's reason, 'twas with such a smile.

See that thy beauty be no fatal dower,
Nor dull the heart, nor deaden the swift mind—
Beauty,—not certain for a single hour,—
The dazzling bird of youth no cord can bind:
To-day his luring lithe enchantments shower
Divinity; to-morrow he's far down the mocking wind.