Poems, first period | Page 2

to the sun
are unfurled,
Swept his hope round the heaven on its limitless wings.

Proud as a war-horse that chafes at the rein,
That, kingly, exults in the
storm of the brave;
That throws to the wind the wild stream of its
mane,
Strode he forth by the prince and the slave!
Life like a spring day, serene and divine,
In the star of the morning
went by as a trance;
His murmurs he drowned in the gold of the wine,

And his sorrows were borne on the wave of the dance.
Worlds lay concealed in the hopes of his youth!--
When once he shall
ripen to manhood and fame!
Fond father exult!--In the germs of his
youth
What harvests are destined for manhood and fame!
Not to be was that manhood!--The death-bell is knelling, The hinge of
the death-vault creaks harsh on the ears-- How dismal, O Death, is the
place of thy dwelling!
Not to be was that manhood!--Flow on, bitter
tears!
Go, beloved, thy path to the sun,
Rise, world upon world,
with the perfect to rest;
Go--quaff the delight which thy spirit has
won,
And escape from our grief in the Halls of the Blest.
Again (in that thought what a healing is found!)
To meet in the Eden
to which thou art fled!--
Hark, the coffin sinks down with a dull,
sullen sound, And the ropes rattle over the sleep of the dead.
And we
cling to each other!--O Grave, he is thine!
The eye tells the woe that
is mute to the ears--
And we dare to resent what we grudge to resign,

Till the heart's sinful murmur is choked in its tears. Pale at its ghastly
noon,
Pauses above the death-still wood--the moon!
The
night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs:
The clouds descend in
rain;
Mourning, the wan stars wane,
Flickering like dying lamps in
sepulchres.
The dull clods swell into the sullen mound;
Earth, one
look yet upon the prey we gave!
The grave locks up the treasure it has
found;
Higher and higher swells the sullen mound--
Never gives
back the grave!
FANTASIE--TO LAURA.

Name, my Laura, name the whirl-compelling
Bodies to unite in one
blest whole--
Name, my Laura, name the wondrous magic
By
which soul rejoins its kindred soul!
See! it teaches yonder roving planets
Round the sun to fly in endless
race;
And as children play around their mother,
Checkered circles
round the orb to trace.
Every rolling star, by thirst tormented,
Drinks with joy its bright and
golden rain--
Drinks refreshment from its fiery chalice,
As the
limbs are nourished by the brain.
'Tis through Love that atom pairs with atom,
In a harmony eternal,
sure;
And 'tis Love that links the spheres together--
Through her
only, systems can endure.
Were she but effaced from Nature's clockwork,
Into dust would fly
the mighty world;
O'er thy systems thou wouldst weep, great Newton,

When with giant force to chaos hurled!
Blot the goddess from the spirit order,
It would sink in death, and
ne'er arise.
Were love absent, spring would glad us never;
Were
love absent, none their God would prize!
What is that, which, when my Laura kisses,
Dyes my cheek with
flames of purple hue,
Bids my bosom bound with swifter motion,

Like a fever wild my veins runs through?
Every nerve from out its barriers rises,
O'er its banks, the blood
begins to flow;
Body seeks to join itself to body,
Spirits kindle in
one blissful glow.
Powerful as in the dead creations
That eternal impulses obey,
O'er
the web Arachne-like of Nature,--
Living Nature,--Love exerts her
sway.

Laura, see how joyousness embraces
E'en the overflow of sorrows
wild!
How e'en rigid desperation kindles
On the loving breast of
Hope so mild.
Sisterly and blissful rapture softens
Gloomy Melancholy's fearful
night,
And, deliver'd of its golden children,
Lo, the eye pours forth
its radiance bright!
Does not awful Sympathy rule over
E'en the realms that Evil calls its
own?
For 'tis Hell our crimes are ever wooing,
While they bear a
grudge 'gainst Heaven alone!
Shame, Repentance, pair Eumenides-like,
Weave round sin their
fearful serpent-coils:
While around the eagle-wings of Greatness

Treach'rous danger winds its dreaded toils.
Ruin oft with Pride is wont to trifle,
Envy upon Fortune loves to cling;

On her brother, Death, with arms extended,
Lust, his sister, oft is
wont to spring.
On the wings of Love the future hastens
In the arms of ages past to lie;

And Saturnus, as he onward speeds him,
Long hath sought his
bride--Eternity!
Soon Saturnus will his bride discover,--
So the mighty oracle hath
said;
Blazing worlds will turn to marriage torches
When Eternity
with Time shall wed!
Then a fairer, far more beauteous morning,
Laura, on our love shall
also shine,
Long as their blest bridal-night enduring:--
So rejoice
thee, Laura--Laura mine!
TO LAURA AT THE HARPSICHORD.
When o'er the chords thy fingers stray,
My spirit leaves its mortal
clay,
A statue there I stand;
Thy spell controls e'en life and death,


As when the nerves a living breath
Receive by Love's command! [1]
More gently zephyr sighs along
To listen to thy magic song;
The
systems formed by heavenly love
To sing forever as they move,

Pause in their endless-whirling round
To catch the rapture-teeming
sound;
'Tis for thy strains they worship thee,--
Thy look,
enchantress, fetters