48 JULIA L. DUMONT. [1820-30. And death ! the spoiler death, Who mocks even love's strong clasp, Hath he borne naught to his halls beneath, Won from thy soul's fond grasp ? Or hast thou bent to kiss The lips his breath had chilled? And called, in dreams of "remembered bliss," On tones forever stilled ? And stood, with bowed face, hid By the grave thy dead must fill. And heard the clod on the coifin-lid ? Then are we brothers still. Is not deep suffering Upon thy nature sealed ? And shall all the gifts that dust may bring, Thy mortal bosom shield ? And hasten we not down To the same low, narrow bed, Where the mighty doffs his victor-ci'Own, And the tired slave rests his head ? Then pass on in thy pride. Till earth shall claim her part ; Yet why should envy's bitter tide Flow o'er a human heart? Earth's pomps around thee fold Yet closer, if thou will ; Thro' this squalid frame the winds pierce cold, Yet are we brothers still. TO THE MOON. Cold planet, of the changeful form ! Dark shadows round thee roll, Yet still thy beams dispel the storm. That rocks the madd'ninsr soul. The waves of passion, strong and deep. Like summer seas are hush'd to sleep. Beneath thy calm conti'ol: Like sacred balm which heaven imparts, Thy rays descend on breaking hearts. The sea-boy on the billowy waste Of waters, dark and Avild, Far from the home which love embrac'd When brighter visions smil'd — While soft thy beam on ocean sleeps. Far o'er the wave his spirit sweeps. By magic power beguiled: And forms yet lov'd, a spectral band, Embrace him on his native land. Etherial lamp ! whose flame is fed From an eternal source, Religion's softest dews are shed. While thou roH'st on thy course ; The vail of mental darkness rends. And holy light from heaven descends, With strong, resistless force : Faith points beyond the purple skies, And, thither, hopes unearthly rise. Queen of the hush'd, mysterious hour, When fairies hold their sway. Young love, exulting, hails thy power, And shuns the glare of day. Lured by thy light, from scenes of mirth, The festive hall, the social hearth, His votaries court thy ray : Pure witness of the vestal sigh, When youthful hearts throb warm and high. And he whose hopes and joys are fled Beyond thi-* vale of tears ; Who strays among his kindi'ed dead, The Avreck of former years ; Sooth'd by thy soft seraphic light. His spirit wings a transient flight To everlasting spheres : And forms, now mouldering at his feet. In beauty cloth'd, his vision greet.
