For the Southern Literary Messenger.
PARAPHRASE
Of a figure in the first volume of Eugene Aram.
| Tho' the Moon o'er yonder river Seems a partial glance to throw, Kissing waves that brightly quiver Whilst the rest in darkness flow, There's not a ripple of that stream Unsilvered by some hallowed beam. Thus in life the bliss that mellows Ills, that else the soul would blight, Seems to fall upon our fellows Like that glance of partial light; Yet each spirit sunk in sadness, Feels in turn its ray of gladness! |
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
TO MY SISTERS.
| Tho' I have sworn in other ears, And kissing, sealed the oath in tears, Have owned a little world divine, Between my Sarah's lips and mine, And more than mortal blessed have felt, While there in Heav'nly bliss we dwelt, Yet I loved not. But when I look, dear girls on ye, E'en in the look my worlds I see; No vow has passed—our years have proved That we have ever truly loved— And in your every prayer I hear, My name so kindly whispered there, Oh! then I love. |