Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/510

 494 BENJAMIN T. GUSHING. [1850-60. And when the youth in dances brisk are Where no dark clouds this longing ear moving, shall cover — Speeds not their music like their flying Where I shall hear even as on earth I feet? see; And have not lover's words a power like Then shall I know the soft voice of mother. loving ? Softer than those bright eyes I used to And is not beauty's voice as beauty love — sweet ? Then shall I hail each merry-hearted brother ; I had a dream of most supernal splendor, Oh take me. Father, to that world above ! Of a green field v^'here gushing fount- ains played. And broad-branched trees grew up, and blossoms tender, 'Neath everlasting sunbeams; and that glade THE POET. Was full of winged creatures robed in The new moon treads the azure sky, glory ; The stars in glory walk on high. And as they hovered o'er me, the rich The dews of night fall fast and chill, tone And sighs the wind around the hill, Of wind, and brook, and birdlet, told its Moaning in fitful gusts and wdld, story. Like a fond mother o'er her child ; Like odors, to my ear ! I woke, 'tw^as The lake is calm, in distance lying, gone. And Echo's voice seems scarce replying To the sad wind, or mournful bird. I see yon girl the lyre's soft numbers steal- Which from that ancient oak is heard ; ing— Oh who, 'mid this, on yonder height, I watch her moving lips, and view the Alone with Nature and the night ? crowd Stand entranced — then yearns my heart Who stands upon that peak so high with feeling, In bold relief against the sky ? As if by hunger's fiercest pangs 'twere As if to solemn thought addressed bowed. His folded arms lie on his breast ; I long — I pant for that same sweet emo- From his broad brow the sunny hair tion. Is flung back careless on the air ; Which others feel in music's glorious His cheek is pale, but falls his glance round ; Keen as the gleam of warrior's lance ; Oh, give me hearing as the winds to And on his curving lip of pride ocean — Sublimest joy sits deified ! I faint — I die in the wild thirst for Tell me, what doth he, pausing there, sound ! Looking fai* up the deep blue air ? But I must bear ! This life will soon be It is — it is the Poet youth — over — The prophet-bard of Nature's truth, Then in a land more lovely shall I The high of soul, upon whose brow be. God's seal doth like a star-flame glow