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THE WORLD'S WANDERERS.
TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
In what cavern of the night
Will thy pinions close now?
Tell me, moon, thou pale and grey
Weary wind, who wanderest
A PORTAL as of shadowy adamant
Stands yawning on the highway of the life Which we all tread, a cavern huge and gaunt; Around it rages an unceasing strife
Of shadows, like the restless clouds that haunt The gap of some cleft mountain, lifted high Into the whirlwinds of the upper sky.
And many pass it by with careless tread,
Pause to examine, - these are very few, And they learn little there, except to know That shadows follow them where'er they go.
TIME LONG PAST.
LIKE the ghost of a dear friend dead
A tone which is now forever fled,
There were sweet dreams in the night Of time long past :
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last
That time long past.
There is regret, almost remorse,
For time long past.
"Tis like a child's beloved corse
YE hasten to the dead! What seek ye there,
Of the idle brain, which the world's livery wear?
Thou vainly curious mind which wouldest guess
With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path,
A refuge in the cavern of grey death?
O heart, and mind, and thoughts! What thing do you Hope to inherit in the
LINES TO A REVIEWER.
ALAS! good friend, what profit can you see
FRAGMENT ON KEATS,
WHO DESIRED THAT ON HIS TOMB SHOULD BE INSCRIBED
"HERE lieth One whose name was writ on water."
But, ere the breath that could erase it blew,