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To us, and old remembered lays,
Unheard, unheeded long;
Revive in joy or grief within us,
Like lost friends wakened from their sleep With all their early power to win us
Alike to smile or weep.
And when we gaze upon that face,
Blooming in innocence and truth, And mark its dimpled artlessness,
Its beauty and its youth;
We think of better worlds than this,
Of other beings pure as thou, Who breathe, on winds of Paradise,
Music as thine is now.
And know the only emblem meet
Of that pure Faith the heart adores, To be a child like thee, whose feet
Are strangers on Life's shores.
I COME from the deeps where the mermaiden twines,
In her bowers of amber, her garlands of shells : Where the sands are of gold, and, of crystal the vines,
And the spirit of gladness unchangingly dwellsI breathed on the harp at Zephyrus' cave,
And the strain, as it rose, glided upward with me; No dwelling on earth, but my home is the wave,
And my couch is the coral grove, deep in the sea.
SONG OF THE ZEPHYR SPIRIT.
Thou hast dreamed — hast thou not?- of those wave
girdled bowers, Where all that can win the heart, beams on the sight : Where life is a frolic through fancies and flowers,
And the soul lives in dreams of a lasting delight. Thou wouldst win what thy dreams have long brought
to thy view, Thou wouldst dwell with the moon that now beams
To the fears of the earth - to its cares, bid adieu,
Come, rest in the coral grove, deep in the sea.
breath I will fan thee when noon-day is nigh, The gentlest of mermaids will lull thee to sleep; She will watch by thy couch when the sun passes by,
Nor fly when the moon leaves her home in the deep, Each joy thou hast sighed for, shall there be thine own,
The sorrows of time from thy slumbers shall flee, Then come with me — win all the pleasures I've shown,
Come rest in the coral grove, deep in the sea.
Old cradle of an infant world,
In which a nestling empire lay,
Her gallant wing and soared away,
What solemn recollections throng,
What touching visions rise,
I backward turn mine eyes,
The wonders of an age combined
In one short moment memory supplies,
They throng upon my wakened mind,
As time's dark curtains rise.
I hear the angry ocean rave,
I see the lonely little barque
Freighted like old Noah's ark,
I see a train of exiles stand,
Amid the desert, desolate,
The daring pioneers of fate,
I see the gloomy Indian range
His woodland empire, free as air;
The shadowy earth laid bare,
I see the haughty warrior gaze
In wonder or in scorn,