AN Her lover, slain in battle, slept; Her maiden veil, her own black hair, Came down o'er eyes that wept : And wildly, in her woodland tongue, This sad and simple lay she sung: "I've pull'd away the shrubs that grew Too close above thy sleeping head, And broke the forest boughs that threw Their shadows o'er thy bed, That, shining from the sweet south-west, The sunbeams might rejoice thy rest. "It was a weary, weary road, That led thee to the pleasant coast, Hast met thy father's ghost, ""Twas I the broider'd mocsen made, That shod thee for that distant land; "With wampum belts I cross'd thy breast, And deck'd thee bravely, as became "Thou'rt happy now, for thou hast pass'd The long dark journey of the grave, And in the land of light, at last, Hast join'd the good and brave; Amid the flush'd and balmy air, "Yet oft to thine own Indian maid, Even there, thy thoughts will earthward stray, To her who sits where thou wert laid, And weeps the hours away; Yet almost can her grief forget To think that thou dost love her yet. “And thou, by one of those still lakes That in a shining cluster lie, On which the south wind scarcely breaks A bower for thee and me hast made "And thou dost wait and watch to meet The rustling of my footsteps near." SPIRI Beside the founts of truth-the living springs Of Beauty infinite:-Spirit of thought, Of youth, hope, joy!- Angels array'd thy wings In glory, and endow'd thy harp's bright strings With power, with music, and sublimityEnwreath'd thee with immortal offeringsStretch'd out the heavens before thee far and free, And sent thy genius forth through all immensity! II. First from the mount thou saw'st the sea launch'd wide Thou heard'st the Word, that call'd the skies to birth, III. For ever hast thou been a gift of light, A voice in the eternity of days, A presence in the everlasting sight, Soaring where even seraphs fear to gaze Snatching the secret fire of heaven's own rays— Thy vast ambition-thine aspirings bold,— And with its touch of might bids thy wild pinions fold. IV. Who hath not proved the power of poesy, |