Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/140

 124 GEORGE D, PRENTICE. [1830-40. And comes soft flashing from its waves, Like sea-gems from their sparry caves ! Why gaze I thus ! 'tis worse than vain ! 'Twas here I gazed in years gone by, Ere life's cold winds had breatlied one stain On Fancy's rich and mellow sky. I feel, 1 feel those early years Deep thrilling through the fount of tears. And hurrying brightly, wildly back O'er Memory's deep and burning track ! 'Twas here I gazed ! The night-bird still Pours its sweet song; the starlight beams Still tinge the flower and forest liill ; And music gushes from the streams ; But I am changed ! I feel no more The sinless joys that charmed before ; And the dear years, so far departed, Come but to " mock the broken-hearted ! " THE FLIGHT OF YEARS. Gone ! gone forever! — like a rushing wave Another year has burst upon the shore Of earthly being — and its last low tones, Wandering in broken accents on the air, Are dying to an echo. The gay Spring, With its young charms, has gone — gone with its leaves — Its atmosphere of roses — its white clouds Slumbering like seraphs in the air — its birds Telling their loves in music — and its streams Leaping and shouting from the up-piled rocks To make earth echo with the joy of waves. And Summer, with its dews and showers, has gone — Its rainbows glowing on the distant cloud Like Spirits of the Storm — its peaceful lalves Smiling in their sweet sleep, as if their dreams Were of the opening flowers and budding trees And overhanging sky — and its bright mists Resting upon the mountain-tops, as crowns Upon the heads of giants. Autumn too Has gone, with all its deeper glories — gone With its green hills like altiirs of the world Lifting their rich fruit-offei'ings to their God- Its cool winds straying mid the forest aisles To wake their thousand wind-harps — its serene And holy sunsets hanging o'er the West Like banners from the battlements of Heaven — And its still evenings, when the moonUt sea Was ever throbbing, like the living heart Of the great Universe. Ay — these are now But sounds and visions of the past — their deep, Wild beauty has departed from the Earth, And they are gathered to the embrace of Death, Their solemn herald to Eternity. Nor have they gone alone. High human hearts Of Passion have gone with them. The fresh dust Is chill on many a breast, that bui-ned erewhile With fires that seemed immortal. Joys, that leaped Like angels from the heart, and wandered free In life's young morn to look upon the flowers, The poetry of nature, and to list The woven sounds of breeze, and bird, and stream. Upon the night-air, have been stricken down In silence to the dust. Exultant Hope, That roved forever on the buoyant winds Like the bright, starry bird of Pai'adise,