Classic Poem

Say — Wind! hast thou been to that golden clime
That is never darkened by death and Time?
" I have been to its far, delicious isles,
And have whispered to deathless flowers;
But know, that the Summer not always smiles
On the peace of those fairy bowers.
I have seen their green woods grow old and die, —
All spoiled of their gorgeous panoply;
And have witnessed their bridal altars, red
With the blood of the martyred bride;
Have seen the happy grow wild with dread,
And perish side by side.
Oh! there is no haunt in a distant clime
Unstricken by death, unstained by crime."
Show me ye Clouds of the sunny air,
That blessed country without a care;
Far have ye wandered o'er sea and earth,
And surely ye know the place of mirth?
" Far have we been in our path of Light
Over ocean, and vale, and hill,
And have looked on the world from our fearful height,
And have gazed on its good and ill;
We have seen the green vale at close of day
Lie calm in its innocent sleep;
And again have beheld, in the morning ray,
Its children go out and weep;
For the Plague hath tainted the air's sweet breath, —
And the men of the vale were struck with death."
Tell me, pale Queen of the stilly night,
And ye Stars from your thrones of light,
Where are there hearts like yon pure sky:
Where man is not born to die?
" We have brightened at eve, and grown dim at morn,
Through the lapse of untold years,
And know that the Nations of Men are born
To perish in grief and tears.
We have seen the Worshipped grow faint and gray,
We have seen the Good, and the Wise,
And the Beautiful, silently pass away,
As a cloud in Autumn skies."
Oh! it is not for man, frail child of care!
To live, as the Stars live, without a change;
The Wind is oft hushed in the stirring air,
And the Cloud is oft stayed in its onward range,
And man is oft borne, in his prime of years,
To the cold, still dust, with many tears.