A HOROSCOPE.

BY ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.

"Quorum pars magna fui."

Oh! loveliest of the stars of Heaven,

Thus did ye walk the crystal dome,

When to the earth a child was given,

Within a love-lit, northern home;

Thus leading up the starry train,

With aspect still benign,

Ye move in your fair orbs again

As on that birth long syne.

Within her curtained room apart,

The pale young mother faintly smiled;

While warmly to a father's heart

With love and prayer was pressed the child;

And, softly to the lattice led,

In whispers grandams show

How those presaging stars have shed

Around the child a glow.

Born in the glowing summer prime,

With planets thus conjoined in space

As if they watched the natal time,

And came to bless the infant face;

Oh! there was gladness in that bower,

And beauty in the sky;

And Hope and Love foretold a dower

Of brightest destiny.

Unconscious child! that smiling lay

Where love's fond eyes, and bright stars gleamed,

How long and toilsome grew the way

O'er which those brilliant orbs had beamed;

How oft the faltering step drew back

In terror of the path,

When giddy steep, and wildering track

Seemed fraught with only wrath!

How oft recoiled the woman foot,

With tears that shamed the path she trod.

To find a canker at the root

Of every hope, save that in God!

And long, oh! long, and weary long,

Ere she had learned to feel

That Love, unselfish, deep, and strong,

Repays its own wild zeal.

Bright Hesperus! who on the eyes

Of Milton poured thy brightest ray!

Effulgent dweller of the skies,

Take not from me thy light away—

I look on thee, and I recall

The dreams of by-gone years—

O'er many a hope I lay the pall

With its becoming tears;

Yet turn to thee with thy full beam,

And bless thee, Oh love-giving star!

For life's sweet, sad, illusive dream

Fruition, though in Heaven afar—

"A silver lining" hath the cloud

Through dark and stormiest night,

And there are eyes to pierce the shroud

And see the hidden light.

Thou movest side by side with Jove,

And, 'tis a quaint conceit, perchance—

Thou seem'st in humid light to move

As tears concealed thy burning glance—

Such Virgil saw thee, when thine eyes,

More lovely through their glow,[2]

Won from the Thunderer of the skies

An accent soft and low.

And Mars is there with his red beams,

Tumultuous, earnest, unsubdued—

And silver-footed Dian gleams

Faint as when she, on Latmos stood—

God help the child! such night brought forth

When Love to Power appeals,

And strong-willed Mars at frozen north

Beside Diana steals.

BROOKLYN, August, 1850.