Years rushed along in their ceaseless course,
But Sisera came no more,
With his mighty men and his captive maids,
As he oft had come before.
A woman’s hand had done the deed
That laid a hero low;—
A woman’s heart had felt the grief
That childless mothers know.
COLUMBA SIBYLLA.
Ex mediis viridem surgentem ut lœta columba
Undis aspexit, post tempora tristia, terram,
Et levibus volitans folia alis carpsit olivæ,
Pacifera et rediit, libertatemque futuram
Navali inclusis in carcere significavit;
Sic terram, lœtis, super œquora vasta, Columbus
Insequitur, ventis astrisque faventibus, alis;
Inventam et terram placidis consevit olivis.
Aevorum super æquora parva columba Columbum
Inscia persequitur cum vaticinantibus alis!
Omina nomina sunt et Verbo facta reguntur,
Prœteritum nectitque futuro Aeterna Catena.
SUMMER IS DEAD.
I.
Summer is dead. Shall we weep or laugh,
As we gaze on the dead queen’s epitaph
Which Autumn has written in letters of gold:
“She was bright and beautiful, blithe and young,
And through grove and meadow she gaily sung,
As with careless footsteps she danced along
To the grave, where she now lies cold?”
II.
Shall we weep that her beauty from earth has gone?
Shall we weep for the friends that with her have flown?
Shall we weep for those that with her have died?
For the man that has perished in manhood’s pride?
For the maiden that never can be a bride?
For the hearts that are left alone?