MAIDEN LONGINGS.
Sitting, thinking, all alone, Listening to the beetle’s drone, And the night-hawk’s monotone; Sitting, sighing, thus alone, How my heart is longing!
Yet I could not tell you why Tears will gather in my eye When the night-winds tread the sky; No, I could not answer why, Or for what, I’m longing.
Solemn as the rapid’s roar, Sounding on my native shore, Is my heart’s dream evermore; Oh! for some old wizard’s lore To ease this weary longing.
Vague the cause that moves me so;— Is it love? Ah no! no! no!! It can’t be love that shakes me so, When the stars in regal show Around their Queen are thronging.
ASPIRATION.
I. “What Cyclopean force is this I feel, Heaving the central fires within my heart? While full-orbéd splendors round my spirit wheel, And, gazing into vacant space, I start, For seems a fair hand beckons me apart. Oh! I will try, Before I die, To find a voice this mystery to reveal.