Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/198

 182 THOMAS H. SHREVE. [1830^0. As though his destiny were pictured there, In the deep soHtude that wraps thy breast. Thy reign must soon be o'er — the human tide Is surging round thee like a restless sea ; And thou must yield thy empire and thy pride, And like thy builders, soon forgotten be. YOUTH'S VISION OF THE FUTURE. Before we hear the mournful chime Of sadness falling on the hours, Before we feel the winds of Time Like frost-breath on the heart's wild flowers, — We stand by Life's mysterious stream, Viewing the stars reflected there ; And dream not that each vivid gleam Can ever be o'ercast by care. But as its murmurs gently rise, The lute's soft magic haunts each tone ; — We hear not stricken hearts' sad sighs, Or dark-browed Grief's unwelcome moan. Like some weird sybil, Fancy, then, The Future's tale breathes on the heart, Conjuring up heroic men And women acting angels' part. Fame whispers to the eager ear Of mighty triumphs to be won. Of laurels which no time shall sear, And banners flaunting in the sun. She points us to the lordly few Whosebrows no shades oblivious "wear, — Entranced by them, we do not view The ghosts of thousands inurned there. Life is not formed of flattering dreams, But duties which rouse up the soul. While, here and there, there shoot star- gleams To Hght the laborer to his goal. THE BLISS OF HOME. Mine be the joy which gleams around The health where pure affections dwell — Where love enrobed in smiles is found, And wraps the spirit with its spell. I would not seek excitement's whirl. Where Pleasure wears her tinsel crown. And Passion's billows upward curl, 'Neath Hatred's darkly gathering frown. The dearest boon from heaven above. Is bliss which brightl}' hallows home — The sunlight of our world of love. Unknown to those who reckless roam. There is a sympathy of heart Which consecrates the social shrine, Robs grief of gloom, and doth impart A joy to gladness all divine. It glances from the kindling eye, Which o'er Affliction sleepless tends — It gives deep pathos to the sigh Which anguish from the bosom rends. It plays around the smiling lip. When Love bestows the greeting kiss — And sparkles in each cup we sip Round the domestic board in bliss ! Let others seek in Wealth or Fame, A splendid path whereon to tread — I'd rather wear a lowlier nhme, With Love's enchantments round it shed. Fame's but a light to gild tlie grave. And Wealth can never calm the breast — But Love, a halcyon on Life's wave. Hath power to soothe its strifes to rest.