Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

mountain streams-their conveyance, the felled stems of trees, which were to be borne away on the mighty Rhine, and perhaps contribute to form a bulwark for Holland, perhaps-but who could speculate on their destination? On go the old trees of the forest, and on go the older streams, and on goes the being who is of yesterday, and whose dwelling is in the dust on goes the Man of the forest, swaying tree and torrent, and guiding them at his will. Great little being!-how marvellous art thou in thy three score years and ten!

The raft moves quicker than the water; they are obliged to wait for the descent of the latter; a rope is thrown out, coiled round a tree on the banks, and the long raft, composed of numberless barked and prepared trees, is drawn in an angular shape across the river, so that the angles catch in the banks, and there it rests while they wish to arrest it. It was at this moment of stopping that I heard the sound of carriage

wheels, and turning round I saw Mein Herr himself, seated in a small open carriage, with a wolf-hound at his feet, peeping up as if he too noted all that was going on, and entered into my philosophy.

Herr Göringer was actually going from his patriarchial domain, going to leave Rippoldsau, and going, they said, to the Chace-it was time, then, for every one else to depart. So I ran and shook hands most warmly with Mein Herr, promising him I would send a leaf from the Black Forest to join the shamrock wreath of Erin; and to those who pick up that leaf is the same hearty farewell now made by one who has kept her promise, at least in part, and may, if sunnier days and calmer hours than those that now hang over her return, despatch a still lighter sprig to rejoin that revered leaf, or relate a story dark as the pines of the forest, beneath whose shadow it was related during her visit to pleasant Rippoldsau.

S. B.

HOME.

FROM THE GERMAN OF AUGUST MAHLMANN

Why comest thou here, so pale and clear, Thou lone and shadowy child?

"I come from a clime of eternal sun,
Tho' my mother's home is a dreary one;
But love hath stolen my heart away,

And to seek it through the world I stray."
Oh, turn thee back to thy native land!—
Turn, ere thy heart is blighted;
For, ah! upon this desert strand
True love hath never alighted.

"My native land is beyond the skies,
Where the perfumed bowers of Eden rise.
But my mother's home is the spectral tomb;
Yet I'll back and rest in its shadowy gloom,
For the grave is still and heaven is fair,
And the myrtle of love fadeth never there!"

F. A. E.

"A CLOUD IS ON THE WESTERN SKY."

MR. EDITOR-The accompanying lines I forward for insertion in your Magazine, exactly as I received them; nor, although not intended for the public eye, do I fear any reproach from their distinguished writer in offering them for publication unauthorized. They are bold, manly, and well timed. Yours,

L.

MY DEAR L.-I send you the song you wished to have. The Americans totally forgot when they so insolently calculated upon aid from Ireland in a war with England, that their own apple is rotten at the core. A nation with five or six millions of slaves, who would go to war with an equally strong nation with no slaves, is a mad people. Yours,

A cloud is on the western sky,
There's tempest o'er the sea,

And bankrupt States are blustering high,
But not a whit care we.

G. P. R. JAMES.

Our guns shall roar, our steel shall gleam,
Before Columbia's distant stream

Shall own another's sway;

We'll take out stand,

And draw the brand,

As in the ancient day.

They count on feuds within the Isle,
They think the sword is broke,
They look to Ireland, and they smile-
But let them bide the stroke.

When rendered one in hand and heart,
By robber war and swindler art,
Home griefs all cast away;
We take our stand,

And draw the brand,

As in the ancient day.

Oh, let them look to where in bonds
For help their bondsmen cry-
Oh, let them look ere British hands,
Wipe out that living lie.

Beneath the flag of Liberty

We'll sweep the wide Atlantic Sea,

And tear their chains away;

There take our stand,

And draw the brand,

As in the ancient day.

Veil, starry banner, veil your pride,
The blood-red cross before,
Emblem of that by Jordan's side,
Man's freedom-price that bore.

[blocks in formation]

[THE late Dr. Hales, F.T.C.D., in his delightful work, the "Analysis of Sacred Chronology," has attempted to redeem the history of this splendid constellation from the absurdity and coarseness which heathen mythology would cast around it. He supposes that Nimrod, "that mighty hunter," (Gen. x. 8, 9,) was the first introducer of the Zabian idolatry, or worship of the heavenly host, so often alluded to in Scripture. After his death he was deified by his subjects, and supposed to be translated into the constellation of Orion; and, attended by his two hounds, Sirius and Procyon, (the Great and Lesser Dog,) he nightly hunts the Great Bear, and is thus described by Homer, (see note on verse 11,) who seems to have supplied or assisted the learned doctor's hypothesis.]

Great huntsman of the eastern sky, Orion, huge and bright!
Climbing the dim blue hills of heaven, all in the jewelled night,
Thy golden girdle cast around thy dark and untraced form,
And thy starry dirk keen glittering in the freezing midnight storm.

Bright issuer from the cold night wave! a watery couch was thine,
A thousand fathom weltering deep beneath the salt sea brine;
Yet here thou art, all standing up against the dome of sky,
With belt, and blade, and limbs of light in quenchless brilliancy.

The planets bowled by God's right hand along their whirling track

The lamps of gold that burn untold o'er the circling zodiac

The wild north lights that blaze at nights-the white moon's gleaming ball— These cannot vie with thee, Orion! kingliest of them all.

There are the Silver Brothers—side by side they still are beaming;
And Perseus, bent like sabre bright, with blade of stars keen gleaming;

Castor and Pollux.

Cassiopeia's golden chair, and the Virgin's sparkle sheaf, *
And Fomalhaut's fart smile of light, too fair to be so brief.

And the bold Bull, on whose broad brow glitters one eye-like star,‡
Gleaming 'midst the pale Hyads, and seems to glare from far
On fair Capella's tender beam, or to quail beneath the rays
Of the lofty Lion-Brothers, who from the proud pole gaze.

And Lyra's graceful harp hung high breathes down it's voiceless might
On Atair's§ upward gaze of fire, and fixes his wild flight;
While o'er him, all entranced too, still and lovely, follows on,
Swimming in heaven's blue waveless seas, the pale and stately Swan;

And the dim clustering Sisters,|| ever weeping o'er the sea,
And the proud Crown,¶ all sparkling down, huge Hercules, on thee!
Great Ursa, with his pointers, treading the north wastes cold,
And Bootes, on whose burning thigh Arcturus flames in gold;

And thou, oh regal Pole Star! in the vast and spangled dome
Of ebon night the loftiest-fast fixed while others roam-
In thy dimness, in thy farness, there is mystery and might,

As thou lookest down o'er star-decked fields of endless sky and night.

Oh, lovely in thy loneliness!—no star is near thee ever;
While others set, or circle round thee, still thou changest never;
Faint type of Him who fixed thee there, heaven's beacon-light to be,
For the lonely step on the desert-path or the wanderer on the sea.

But thou and all thy brilliant brothers sparkle not so bright
As Orion, kingly constellation! strong** hunter of the night!
As I gaze upon thee now from my open lattice pane,

With thy transverse limbs of glittering light uprising from the main.

And I find thy name in the "blind old man of Scio's" tuneful page,
Dark as his eyes, but honoured still through every clime and age;
How he drewtt thee for admiring Greece, through midnight fields of air,
Great huntsman! with thy two‡‡ bright Dogs, chasing the wild North Bear.

And again in his bright verse he makes the Ithacensian tell§§
How he saw thy shade in flowery meads of Elysian asphodel,

Spica Virginis, the bright star in the left hand of the Virgin.

† This beautiful star for many nights just skirts the horizon, at a great distance; it is in the Southern Fish.

Aldebaran.

The chief star in the Eagle, which, with Lyra and Cyagnus, form an isosceles triangle in the northern heavens.

[ocr errors]

The Pleiades.

Corona Borealis.

“ τό τε σθενος Ωρίωνος.”—Iliad, xviii. 434.

†† « Αρκτον 2', καὶ αμαζαν επικλησιν καλέουσιν

Ητ' αυτου σρεφεταί καί τ' Ωρίωνα δοκέυει.”—Iliad, xviii. 485.

# Sirius and Procyon.

[ocr errors]

« Τον δε μετ 'Ωρίωνα πελώριον εισενόησα

Θήρας όμου ειλεοντα κατ' ασφοδέλον λειμωνα

Τους αυτος κατεπέφνεν εν οιοπολοισιν ορεσσιν

Χερσιν έχων ροπαλον παγχάλκεον αξεν ααγες.”—Odyss. xi. 571.

A star-like form, with belted waist and mace of burning brass,
But like the figures in a dream or the shadows in a glass.

But thy sparkle, and thy name too, is on a better page,
E'en God's bless'd Book; and here I find a record of thine age:
How young and fresh thou seemest now, yet thine unaltered rays
Sparkled three thousand years ago before Job's anguished gaze.*

And the Lord himself, thy Maker, wrapped in the whirling storm,
In voice of thunder, named thy name o'er His servant's prostrate form,t
As if He would arraign the worm whose troubled spirit dare
Uplift itself 'gainst Him who made a thing like thee so fair.

And tracing thee in God's bright Book to another clime and age,
The Prophet Herdsman saw thy beauty, and transferred it to his page,t
When he prayed proud Judah to repent, from Tekoah's mountain height,
And seek their glorious God, who knit thy beaming bands of light.

But most of all I hail thee, as thou comest to visit me

In this utter sense of night intense, when thoughts are pure and free;
Friends and kinsmen all have said farewell-spoke is the last good-night-
And I am left alone with thee and Him who gave thy light.

Yet not alone when He is near: His heavens above me roll,

A blazoned book, from which I draw deep lessons to my soul.

Oh, if these stars, which are but streams, have such pure brilliancy,
How rich in waves of living light the glorious fount must be!

And again, when night comes forth in might, and her jewelled zone is rolled
Around her waist, one burning belt of diamonds, rays, and gold,
How solemn is it then to think that this "excess of light,"

To us so fair, yet is not clean§ in His most holy sight.

And deeper still the mind would pierce through the clouded times of old; When chaos reigned, ere creation dawned, and this vault was dark and cold,

Till He spake the word, and straight came forth from the womb of ancient night

Ten thousand thousand dazzling suns, and decked the heavens in light.

Poor feeble types of His far light, the source and spring of day,
How faint and dim you shine beside His unapproached ray;
Your lamps are bright for life's brief night, yet soon to pale and die,
When o'er the expectant world will dawn the Day Star from on high:

Day-break o'er the dark mountains, foretold in Prophet's story,
Up-springing, kindling far and near a morn of matchless glory,
When He who wore the thorns of yore will tread the sounding earth,
And His smile of light beam broad and bright o'er a new creation's birth.

See Job ix. 9.

See Job xxxviii. 31.

See Amos v. 8.

"And the heavens are not clean in his sight."-Job xv. 15.

CECIL.

« ZurückWeiter »