Dear friend, adieu! if Malzah-like An adverse Fate ordained to strike, Beset thee on life’s weary way, And followed close from day to day, He failed to conquer, failed to wrest One murmur from thy manly breast. Companion of my happiest hours, Would that my words were fadeless flowers! That I might lay them on thy tomb To mitigate its lasting gloom, And evermore above thee bloom.
[10] The lofty genius of this author attracted no attention in Canada till noticed by the North British Review in an article on his “Saul,” which appeared in the August number of 1858.
BOOKS.
In books I find companionship, they are My household gods, and naught shall wholly bar Their voices from me; from their precious pages I quaff the immortality of ages. They are the spirits of the dead, not dumb, From ancient tombs and monuments they come To hold communion with the living; they, While nations perish and the world grows gray, Their regal power and pristine beauty keep, Despite the havoc, and inglorious sleep Of centuries that bore a crimson hue,— Despite the flames which they have travelled through, Unscathed they hold their sceptres, meek they bear These royal dignities;—like light and air They enter, silver-shod, the humblest door, And breathe their benedictions on the poor. Ye avatars, true saviours of the world, Round whom the hopes of wisest souls are curled, Be mine through life, in pain, or pleasure, mine! If near me still your pleasant faces shine The skies may lower—upon my thorny path The heavens may pour their cataracts of wrath, I need not falter, need not hold my breath, Nor tremble at the menaces of Death.
THE DRUNKARD.
He drank;— All warning he repelled with scorn. He boasted his superior strength, But in the light of manhood’s morn That boasted strength was from him shorn, His days had measured out their length.