English

A MINTOR .

Still am I doom'd, alas! my Fate!
To bear the cruel D APHANE'S Hate,
By Day I seek the lonely Shade,
Though absent, I behold the Maid;
Run o'er her charming, lovely Mein,
The Envy of our Village Green;
At Night, in Dreams what sweet Disguise!
In Fancy rapt, methought those Eyes
Survey'd me with a kinder Air,
Dispell'd my Gloom, forbad Desprir;
'Twas but a Dream! I wake to know
The greatest Torment here below;
For slighted Love — alas! the Bane,

Have we given up thy spell, Renunciation?
Do we dream that we can be born without first dying?
That joy comes with no pain?

Once the world heard thy lips crying: " Renounce! renounce! "
Oh, calm-eyed winged one that hovers near us ...
But now they preach of the unalloyed pleasures of the faithful,
And of the gains that fly to the needy soul all effortless!

Yet do I know that desiring my dearest friend,
I did not have him till I went from him,
Lonely for his sake through a month of days ...

Alas, the outer emptiness,
What life has it to give!
O shall it God's own fire oppress?
Soul, wilt thou lightly live?

Some joy of thine own seeking win,
To thine own strength repair;
Breathe, breathe the awful life within,
Feel all the glory there!

Thyself amid the silence clear,
The world far off and dim,
Thy vision free, thy God so near,
Thyself alone with him!

The rapture, mighty, measureless,
In each eternal thing;
The mingling with Almightiness,

Wrote at the Request of a Friend upon his Mistress.

Had I the Pow'r of all the Nine,
To Sense and Beauty such as thine,
How poor the Off'ring — — trifling Lay,
As I can bring — one Sprig of Bay
My Muse presents, with friendly Care,
And hails your D ELIA heav'nly Fair!

J OY to my Friend! May coming Years
Flow undisturb'd by painful Cares;
May D ELIA (can the Gods do more?
Or grant a sweeter, wish'd-for Store?)
Kindly bestow her World of Charms,
And early bless your faithful Arms.

TO THE SPEECHES IN THE

Have you heard what says the Swede now,
Young Norwegian man?
Have you seen what forms proceed now,
Border-watch to plan?
Shades of those from life departed,
Our forefathers single-hearted,
Who, when words like these were said,
Mounted guard and knew no dread.

Says the Swede now: That our cherished
Norseland's banner red,

O God, thy power is wonderful,
Thy glory passing bright;
Thy wisdom, with its deep on deep,
A rapture to the sight!

All lives may draw upon thy power,
Thy mercy may command, —
And still outflows thy silent sea,
Immutable and grand!

Thy grandeur is all tenderness,
All motherlike and meek;
The hearts that will not come to it,
Humbling itself to seek.

O little heart of mine, shall pain
Or sorrow make thee moan,
When all this God is all for thee,
A Father all thine own?

In the little Crimson Manual it's written plain and clear
That who would wear the scarlet coat shall say good-bye to fear;
Shall be a guardian of the right, a sleuth-hound of the trail —
In the little Crimson Manual there's no such word as " fail " —
Shall follow on though heavens fall, or hell's top-turrets freeze,
Half round the world, if need there be, on bleeding hands and knees.
It's duty, duty, first and last, the Crimson Manual saith;
The Scarlet Rider makes reply: " It's duty — to the death. "

I saw the unwritten face of the child
Beside the mother's trouble-writ face.

Thou art the last rose of the year,
By gusty breezes rudely fanned:
The dying Summer holds thee fast
In the hot hollow of her hand.

Thy face pales, as if looking back
Into the splendor of thy past
Had thrilled thee strangely, knowing that
This one long look must be the last.

Thine essence, that was heavenly sweet,
Has flown upon the tricksy air:
Fate's hand is on thee; drop thy leaves,
And go among the things that were.

Be must and mould, be trampled dust,
Be nothing that is fair to see:

I heard the woodpecker pecking,
The bluebird tenderly sing;
I turned and looked out of my window.
And lo, it was spring!

A breath from tropical borders,
Just a ripple, flowed into my room,
And washed my face clean of its sadness,
Blew my heart into bloom.

The loves I have kept for a lifetime,
Sweet buds I have shielded from snow,
Break forth into full leaf and tassel
When spring winds do blow.

For the sap of my life goes upward,
Obeying the same sweet law