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THE LAST MAN.
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
The sun himself must die,
Before this mortal shall assume
I saw a vision in my sleep,
That gave my spirit strength to sweep
I saw the last of human mould,
The sun's eye had a sickly glare,
The earth with age was wan, The skeletons of nations were
Around that lonely man! Some had expired in fight,-the brands Still rusted in their bony hands;
In plague and famine some! Earth's cities had no sound nor tread; And ships were drifting with the dead
To shores where all was dumb!
Yet, prophet like, that lone one stood,
As if a storm passed by,
Saying, we are twins in death, proud sun,
For thou ten thousand thousand years
What though beneath thee man put forth His pomp, his pride, his skill;
And arts that made fire, flood and earth
Yet mourn I not thy parted sway,
For all those trophied arts
Go, let oblivion's curtain fall
Its piteous pageants bring not back,
Behold not me expire.
The eclipse of nature spreads my pall,
The spirit shall return to him
When thou thyself art dark!
Who robbed the grave of victory,-
Go, Sun, while mercy holds me up
Of grief that man shall taste-
On earth's sepulchral clod,
Or shake his trust in God!
THE BROKEN HEART.
Ah! little I thought, when with thrilling delight,
of thine eye;
I watched the fond gaze
That so soon thou would'st fade like a dream from our
Heart-broken, to linger and die.
'Twas mournful to sit by thy pillow and mark
The paleness that dwelt on thy cheek;
Thy cold marble brow with its ringlets so dark,
'Twas awful to list to thy musical voice,
Like a lute heard by night from the wave; And think that the tones which made others rejoice, So soon should be quenched in the grave. I saw thee, sweet girl! worn down to a shade, How changed from what thou wert before; All the magical glow of thy features decayed, Like a rainbow when tempests are o’er.—
'Tis past!-thou art laid in the cold silent tomb, And often with desolate heart,
All lonely I stray in the dim twilight gloom
Thy sorrows are ended-thy pilgrimage o'er,
In the Sabbath of peace, 'mid the joys of that shore,
But woe unto him who could bask in the glow,
Could add balm to thy blisses, partake of thy woe,