Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - Volume 57, No. 352, February 1845

The Husbandman

Lightly doth the furrow fold the golden grain within its breast,
Deeper shroud, old man, shall cover in thy limbs when laid at rest.
Blithely plough and sow as blithely! Here are springs of mortal cheer,
And when e'en the grave is closing, Hope is ever standing near.

Anacreon's Grave

Where the rose is fresh and blooming — where the vine and myrtle spring —
Where the turtle-dove is cooing — where the gay cicalas sing —
Whose may be the grave surrounded with such store of comely grace,
Like a God-created garden? 'Tis Anacreon's resting-place.
Spring and summer and the autumn pour'd their gifts around the bard,
And, ere winter came to chill him, slept he safe beneath the sward.

The Brothers

Slumber, Sleep — they were two brothers, servants to the Gods above;
Kind Prometheus lured them downwards, ever fill'd with earthly love;
But what Gods could bear so lightly, press'd too hard on men beneath;
Slumber did his brother's duty — Sleep was deepen'd into Death.

Love's Hour-glass

Eros! wherefore do I see thee, with the glass in either hand?
Fickle God! with double measure wouldst thou count the shifting sand?
"This one flows for parted lovers — slowly drops each tiny bead —
That is for the days of dalliance, and it melts with golden speed."

Warning

Do not touch him — do not wake him! Fast asleep is Amor lying;
Go — fulfil thy work appointed — do thy labour of the day.
Thus the wise and careful mother uses every moment flying,
Whilst her child is in the cradle — Slumbers pass too soon away.

Solitude

Grant, O ye healing Nymphs, that have your haunts
By rock and stream and lonely forest glade,
The boon which, in their bosoms' silent depths,
Your votaries crave! Unto the sad of heart
Give comfort — knowledge unto him that doubts —
Possession to the lover, and its joy.
For unto you the Gods have given, what they
Denied to man — to aid and to console
All those soe'er who put their trust in you.

Perfect Bliss

All the divine perfections, which, while ere
Nature in thrift doled out 'mongst many a fair,
She shower'd with open hand, thou peerless one, on thee!
And she that was so wond'rously endow'd,
To whom a throng of noble knees were bow'd,
Gave all — Love's perfect gift — her glorious self, to me!

The Chosen Rock

Here, in the hush and stillness of mid-noon,
The lover lay and thought upon his love;
With blithesome voice he spoke to me: "Be thou
My witness, stone! — Yet, therefore, vaunt thee not,
For thou hast many partners of my joy —
To every rock that crowns this grassy dell,
And looks on me and my felicity;
To every forest-stem that I embrace
In my entrancement as I roam along,
Stand thou for a memorial of my bliss!
All mingle with my rapture, and to all
I lift a consecrating cry of joy.
Yet do I lend a voice to thee alone,
As culls the Muse some favourite from the crowd,
And, with a kiss, inspires for evermore."

The Death Trance

Weep, maiden, here by Cupid's grave! He fell,
Some nothing kill'd him — what I cannot tell.
But is he really dead? — I swear not that, in sooth;
A trifle — nothing — oft revives the youth.

Philomela

Surely, surely, Amor nursed thee, songstress of the plaintive note,
And, in fond and childish fancy, fed thee from his pointed dart.
So, sweet Philomel, the poison sunk into thy guileless throat,
Till, with all love's weight of passion, strike its notes to every heart.

Sacred Ground

A place to mark the Graces, when they come
Down from Olympus, still and secretly,
To join the Oreads in their festival,
Beneath the light of the benignant moon.
There lies the poet, watching them unseen,
The whilst they chant the sweetest songs of heaven,
Or, floating o'er the sward without a sound,