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1833
ENIGMA
| The noblest name in Allegory's page, The hand that traced inexorable rage; A pleasing moralist whose page refined, Displays the deepest knowledge of the mind; A tender poet of a foreign tongue, (Indited in the language that he sung.) A bard of brilliant but unlicensed page At once the shame and glory of our age, The prince of harmony and stirling sense The ancient dramatist of eminence, The bard that paints imagination's powers, And him whose song revives departed hours, Once more an ancient tragic bard recall, In boldness of design surpassing all. These names when rightly read, a name [make] known Which gathers all their glories in its own. |
SERENADE
| So sweet the hour, so calm the time, I feel it more than half a crime, When Nature sleeps and stars are mute, To mar the silence ev�n with lute. At rest on ocean�s brilliant dyes An image of Elysium lies: Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven, Form in the deep another seven: Endymon nodding from above Sees in the sea a second love. Within the valleys dim and brown, And on the spectral mountain�s crown, The wearied light is dying down, And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky Are redolent of sleep, as I Am redolent of thee and thine Enthralling love, my Adeline. But list, O list, �� so soft and low Thy lover�s voice tonight shall flow, That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem My words the music of a dream. Thus, while no single sound too rude Upon thy slumber shall intrude, Our thoughts, our souls, �� O God above! In every deed shall mingle, love. |
[SONG OF TRIUMPH]
| Who is king but Epiphanes? Say do you know? Who is God but Epiphanes? Say do you know? There is none but Epiphanes No � there is none: So tear down the temples And put out the sun! |
TO ���
| Sleep on, sleep on, another hour � I would not break so calm a sleep, To wake to sunshine and to show'r, To smile and weep. Sleep on, sleep on, like sculptured thing, Majestic, beautiful art thou; Sure seraph shields thee with his wing And fans thy brow � We would not deem thee child of earth, For, O, angelic, is thy form ! But, that in heav'n thou had'st thy birth, Where comes no storm To mar the bright, the perfect flow'r, But all is beautiful and still � And golden sands proclaim the hour Which brings no ill. Sleep on, sleep on, some fairy dream Perchance is woven in thy sleep � But, O, thy spirit, calm, serene, Must wake to weep. |
FANNY
The dying swan by northern lakes Sing's [Sings] its wild death song, sweet and clear, And as the solemn music breaks O'er hill and glen dissolves in air; Thus musical thy soft voice came, Thus trembled on thy tongue my name. Like sunburst through the ebon cloud, Which veils the solemn midnight sky, Piercing cold evening's sable shroud, Thus came the first glance of that eye; But like the adamantine rock, My spirit met and braved the shock. Let memory the boy recall Who laid his heart upon thy shrine, When far away his footsteps fall, Think that he deem'd thy charms divine; A victim on love's alter [altar] slain, By witching eyes which looked disdain. |
THE COLISEUM
Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld! Here, where a hero fell, a column falls! |