1830-40.] LAURA M. THURSTON. 253 And often by the hearth-fix'e's blaze, When winter eves shall come, We'll sit and talk of other days. And sing the well-i'emembered lays Of my Green Mountain Home. I FEAR NOT THY FROWN. I FEAR not thy frown, and I ask not thy smile ; Thy love has no value for me ! The spell of thine eye can no longer beguile — My heart from enchantment is free ! Thou may'st whisper the language of love as before, Thou may'st speak of the past, if thou wilt ; It can only the record of falsehood restore. Or awake the remembrance of guilt. Time was, when I dreamed 'twould be death to my heart. To live disunited to thee ; That life, from thy love and thy presence apart. Must a desolate wilderness be ! I loved — with a love how devoted and deep, 'Twere vanity now to recall ! I loved, 0, too truly ! for now I could weep. That I e'er should have loved thee at ail ! We meet in the throng, and we join in the dance. And thy voice is as soft, and as low ; And thine eye hath as deep, and as earn- est glance. As it had when we met long ago. But I think of the past, as a vision that's flown ; Of thy love, as a dream of the night : The magic is gone from thy look and thy tone — Thy falsehood hath put it to flight. And coldly, aye coldly ! I gaze on thee now. Or turn from thy presence away; I heed not the beauty that dwells on thy brow — A beauty to win and betray. Like a sepulcher, garnished, and fair to the sight. Though filled with corruption and death — The cheek may be fair, and the eye may be bright. While a false heart is beating beneath. PARTING HYMN.* Brethren, we are parting now, Here perchance to meet no more ! Well may sorrow cloud each brow, That another dream is o'er. Life is fraught with changeful dreams, Ne'er to-morrow as to-day; Scarce we catch their transient gleams, Ere they melt and fade away. But, upon the brow of night, See the Morning Star arise ; With unchanging, holy light Gilding all the eastern skies. Bethlehem's Star ! of yore it blazed, Gleaming on .Judea's brow. While the wondering Magi gazed ; Brethren, let it guide us now: Guide us over land and sea. Where the tribes in darkness mourn, Where no Gospel jubilee Bids the ransomed ones return ; Or, beneath our own blue skies, Where our green savannas spread. Let us bid that Star arise. And its beams of healing shed.
- Written for the Anniversary Exercises at the New
Albany Theological Seminary.
