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1840–50].
SARAH T. BOLTON.
375
A rush of wings on the midnight wind —
The fall of a shadowy portal —
And the good Old Year, so true and kind,
Passed to his rest, but left behind
The record of deeds immortal.
The fall of a shadowy portal —
And the good Old Year, so true and kind,
Passed to his rest, but left behind
The record of deeds immortal.
IN MY SLEEP I HAD A VISION.
In my sleep I had a vision,
Of a brighter world than this ;
Of a realm, whose vales Elysian,
Wooed the soul to endless bliss.
Hope could sing of nothing fairer
Than this soft, bewitching isle ;
Fancy dreamed of nothing rarer,
And she furled her wings awhile.
Of a brighter world than this ;
Of a realm, whose vales Elysian,
Wooed the soul to endless bliss.
Hope could sing of nothing fairer
Than this soft, bewitching isle ;
Fancy dreamed of nothing rarer,
And she furled her wings awhile.
It had crystal streams and fountains,
Glens and grottos, cool and deep.
Where the shadows of the mountains
Lay on violets, asleep.
It had labyrinths of flowers.
Arching 'neath a summer sky,
And to tread those fairy bowers
There were only thou and I —
Glens and grottos, cool and deep.
Where the shadows of the mountains
Lay on violets, asleep.
It had labyrinths of flowers.
Arching 'neath a summer sky,
And to tread those fairy bowers
There were only thou and I —
Thou and I together straying
Through each shady glen and grove ;
Two enraptured souls a-Maying,
In the Eden-land of love.
Then our hearts forgot the sorrow,
Toil and care of by-gone years,
And the prospect of the morrow
Brought us neither doubts nor fears.
Through each shady glen and grove ;
Two enraptured souls a-Maying,
In the Eden-land of love.
Then our hearts forgot the sorrow,
Toil and care of by-gone years,
And the prospect of the morrow
Brought us neither doubts nor fears.
If a memory came to darken
Those bright moments all our own,
Trusting love refused to hearken
To the Sybil's chiding tone.
Joy that would not brook concealing,
From thine eyes like sunlight stole,
And the iris wreath of feeling
Was the cestus of my soul.
Those bright moments all our own,
Trusting love refused to hearken
To the Sybil's chiding tone.
Joy that would not brook concealing,
From thine eyes like sunlight stole,
And the iris wreath of feeling
Was the cestus of my soul.
Words of love, though wild and burning,
Seemed but trite and feeble things,
And I learned thy fond heart's yeai'ning,
By the trembling of its strings.
Never can our -waking senses
Such ecstatic joy receive,
For an hour like this condenses
All the pleasure life can give.
Seemed but trite and feeble things,
And I learned thy fond heart's yeai'ning,
By the trembling of its strings.
Never can our -waking senses
Such ecstatic joy receive,
For an hour like this condenses
All the pleasure life can give.
MONT BLANC.
O WORSHIPER in heaven's far courts ! sublime
Gleams thy white forehead, bound with purple air.
Thou art coeval with old gray-haired Time,
Yet thy colossal features are as fair
As when the Omniscient set his signet there.
Wrapped in a royal robe, that human art
Could never weave, nor mortal monarch wear,
Thou sitt'st enthroned in majesty apart,
Folding eternal rest and silence in thy heart.
Gleams thy white forehead, bound with purple air.
Thou art coeval with old gray-haired Time,
Yet thy colossal features are as fair
As when the Omniscient set his signet there.
Wrapped in a royal robe, that human art
Could never weave, nor mortal monarch wear,
Thou sitt'st enthroned in majesty apart,
Folding eternal rest and silence in thy heart.
When the Almighty Mind went forth, and wrought
Upon the formless waters; when he hung
New worlds on their mysterious paths, and brought
Light out of brooding darkness; when the young,
Fair earth at his command from chaos sprung
To join the universal jubilee ;
When all the hosts of heaven his triumphs sung,
God left his footsteps on the sounding sea,
And wrote his glorious name, proud monument, on thee :
Upon the formless waters; when he hung
New worlds on their mysterious paths, and brought
Light out of brooding darkness; when the young,
Fair earth at his command from chaos sprung
To join the universal jubilee ;
When all the hosts of heaven his triumphs sung,
God left his footsteps on the sounding sea,
And wrote his glorious name, proud monument, on thee :
