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VII。
How strong a hand hath Time！ Man rears； And names his work
immortal； years Go by。 Behold！ where dwelt his pride； Stern Desolation's
brood abide； The owl within his bower sits； The lone bat through his
chamber flits； Where bounded by the buoyant throng； With measured step；
and choral song； The wily serpent winds along； While the Destroyer
stalketh by； And smiles； as if in mockery。 How strong a band hath Time！
Love weaves His wreath of flowers and myrtle leaves； （Methinks his
fittest crown would be A chaplet from the cypress tree；） With hope his
breast is swelling high； And brightly beams his laughing eye； But soon his
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hopes are mixed with fears； And soon his smiles are quenched in tears：
Then Disappointment's blighting breath Breathes o'er him； and he droops
to death； While the Destroyer glideth by； And smiles； as if in mockery。
How strong a hand hath Time！ Fame wins The eager youth to her
embrace； With tameless ardour he begins； And follows up the bootless
race； Ah！ bootlessfor； as on he hies； With equal speed the phantom flies；
Till youth； and strength； and vigour gone； He faints； and sinks； and dies
unknown； While the Destroyer passeth by； And smiles； as if in mockery。
Gaze； stranger； on the scene below； 'Tis scarce a century ago； Since
here abode another race； The men of tomahawk and bow； The savage
sons of war and chase； Yet where； ah！ where； abide they now？ Go search；
and see if thou canst find； One trace which they have left behind； A single
mound； or mossy grave； That holds the ashes of the brave； A single
lettered stone to say That they have lived； and passed away。 Men soon will
cease to name their name； Oblivion soon will quench their fame； And the
wild story of their fate； Will yet be subject of debate； 'Twixt antiquarians
sage and able； Who doubt if it be truth or fable。
VIII。
I said I minded well the time； When first beside yon stream I stood；
Then one interminable wood； In its unbounded breadth sublime； And in
its loneliness profound； Spread like a leafy sea around。 To one of foreign
land and birth； Nursed 'mid the loveliest scenes of earth； But now from
home and friends exiled； Such wilderness were doubly wild； I thought it
so； and scarce could I My tears repress； when standing by The river's brink；
I thought of mine Own native stream； the glorious Rhine！ For； near to it；
with loving eye； My mother watched my infancy； Along its banks my
childhood strayed； With its strong waves my boyhood played。 And I could
see； in memory； still My father's cottage on the hill； With green vines
trailing round and o'er Wall； roof and casement； porch and door： Yet soon I
learned yon stream to bless； And love the wooded wilderness。 I could not
then have told thee how The change came o'er my heart； but now I know
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full well the charm that wrought； Into my soul； the spell of thought Of
tender； pensive thought； which made Me love the forest's deepest shade；
And listen； with delighted ear； To the low voice of waters near； As gliding；
gushing； gurgling by； They utter their sweet minstrelsy。 I scarce need give
that _charm_ a name； Thy heart； I know； hath felt the same； Ah！ where is
mind； or heart； or soul； That has not bowed to its control？
IX。
See； where yon towering； rocky ledge； Hangs jutting o'er the river's
edge； There channelled dark； and dull； and deep； The lazy； lagging waters
sleep； Thence follow； with thine eagle sight； A double stone's cast to the
right； Mark where a white…walled cottage stands； Devised and reared by
cunning hands； A stately pile； and fair to see！ The chisel's touch； and
pencil's trace； Have blent for it a goodly grace； And yet； it much less
pleaseth me； Than did the simple rustic cot； Which occupied of yore that
spot。 For； 'neath its humble shelter； grew The fairest flower that e'er drank
dew； A lone exotic of the wood； The fairy of the solitude； Who dwelt amid
its loneliness To brighten； beautify； and bless。 The summer sky's serenest
blue； Would best portray her eye's soft hue； From her white brow were
backward rolled Long curls of mingled light and gold； The flush upon her
cheek of snow； Had shamed the rose's harsher glow； And haughty love had；
haughtier grown； To own her breast his fairest throne。 The eye that once
behold her； ne'er Could lose her image；firm and bright； All…beautiful；
and pure； and clear； 'Twas stamped upon th' enamoured sight；
Unchangeable； for ever fair； Above decay； it lingered there！ As it has
lingered on mine own； These many years； till it has grown； In its
mysterious strength； to be A portion of my soul and me。
X。
Not in the peopled solitude Of cities； does true love belong； For it is
of A thoughtful mood； And thought abides not with the throng。 Nor is it
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won by glittering wealth； By cunning； nor device of art； Unheralded； by
silent stealth； It wins its way into the heart。 And once the soul has
known its dream； Thenceforth its empire is supreme； For heart； and brain；
and soul； and will； Are bowed by its subduing thrill。 My love； alas！ not
born to bless； Had birth in nature's loneliness； And held； at first； as a sweet
spell； It grew in strength； till it became A spirit； which I could not
quell； A quenchlessa volcanic flame； Which； without pause； or time
of rest； Must burn for ever in my breast。 Yet how ecstatically sweet； Was
its first soft tumultuous beat！ I little thought that beat could be The
harbinger of misery； And daily； when the morning beam Dawned earliest
on wood and stream； When； from each brake and bush were heard； The
hum of bee； and chirp of bird； From these； earth's matin songs； my ear
Would turn； a sweeter voice to hear A voice； whose tones the very air
Seemed trembling with delight to bear； From leafy wood； and misty
stream； From bush； and brake； and morning beam； Would turn away my
wandering eye； A dearer object to descry； Till voice so sweet； and form so
bright； Grew part of hearing and of sight。
XI。
Yet my fond love I never told； But kept it； as the miser keeps； In
his rude hut； his hoarded heaps Of gleaming gems； and glittering gold：
Gloating in secret o'er the prize； He fears to show to other eyes； And so
passed many months away； Till once I heard a comrade say： 〃To…morrow
brings her bridal day； Mazelli leaves the greenwood bower； Where she has
grown its fairest flower； To bless； with her bright； sunny smile； A stranger
from a distant isle； Whom love has lured across the sea； O'er hill and
glen； through wood and wild； Far from his lordly home； to be Lord of
the forest's fairest child。〃 It was as when a thunder peal Bursts； crashing
from a cloudless sky； It caused my brain and heart to reel And throb；
with speechless agony： Yet； when wild Passion's trance was o'er； And
Thought resumed her sway once more； I breathed a prayer that she might
be Saved from the pangs that tortured me； That her young heart might
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never prove The sting of unrequited love。 My task I then again began； But
ah！ how much an altered man； A single hour； a few hot tears； Had done
the wasting work of years。
XII。
Nor was it I alone； to whom Those words had been as words of doom；