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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. 65 |
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TAKE BACK THE VIRGIN PAGE.
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill. Thoughts come as pure as light,
Pure as even you require; But oh, each word I write
Love turns to fire!
Yet let me keep the book;
Oft shaii my heart renew, When on its leaves I look.
Dear thoughts of you. Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair To let wild Passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away .1 roam, Should calmer thoughts arise
Toward you and home— Fancy may trace some line
Worthy those eyes to meet; Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep. Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep; So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray— You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way. |
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THE MOUNTAIN SPRITE.
In yonder valley there dwelt, alone,
A youth, whose moments had calmly flown,
Till spells came o'er him, and, day and night,
He was haunted and watched by a Mountain Sprite.
As once, by moonlight, he wandered o'er
The golden sands of that Island shore,
A footprint sparkled before his sight—
'Twas the fairy foot of the Mountain Sprite!
Beside a fountain, one sunny day,
As bending over the stream he lay.
There peeped down o'er him two eyes of light,
And he saw in that mirror the Mountain Sprite!
He turned, but lo! like a startled bird,
That spirit fled!—and the youth but heard
Sweet music, such as marks the flight
Of some bird of song, from the Mountain Sprite.
One night, still haunted by that bright look,
The boy, bewildered, his pencil took,
And, guided only by memory's light,
Drew the once-seen form of the Mountain Sprite.
"O thou, who lovest the shadow," cried
A voice, low whispering by his side,
"Now turn and see!"—here the youth's delight
Sealed the rosy lips of the Mountain Sprite!
"Of all the Spirits of land and sea,"
Then rapt, he murmured, "there's none like thee,
And oft, oh oft, may thy foot thus light
In this lonely bower, sweet Mountain Sprite!" |
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