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Strew'd with white sand, on which he used to trace
His boyhood's battles, and assign a place

To charging hosts, and give the Indian yell,
And shout to hear the hoary grandsire tell
How he had fought with savages, whose breath
He felt upon his cheek like mildew till his death.
Hark! that sweet song, how full of tenderness!
O, who would breathe in this voluptuous press
Of lulling thoughts! so soothing, and so low,
Like singing fountains in their faintest flow:
It is as if some holy, lovely thing,
Within our very hearts were murmuring.
The soldier listens, and his arms are press'd
In thankfulness; and trembling on his breast;
Now, on the very window where he stands,
Are seen a clambering infant's rosy hands,
And now,-
ah! heaven! blessings on that smile!
Stay, soldier, stay! O, linger yet awhile!
An airy vision now appears, with eyes
As tender as the weeping skies,

all joy and dance

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as bright and free

Yet sunny in their radiance, as that blue
When sunset glitters on its falling dew:
With form
As youthful nymph of mountain liberty,
Or naked angels, dream'd by poesy;
A blooming infant to her heart is press'd
And, ah, a mother's song is lulling it to rest.
A single bound! our chief is standing by,
Trembling from head to foot with ecstacy;

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'Bless thee!' at length he murmur'd, bless thee love! My wife! my boy!' Their eyes are raised above. His soldier's tread of sounding strength is gone,

A choking transport drowns his manly tone.
He sees the closing of that mild, blue eye,
His bosom echoes to a faint, low cry,

His glorious boy springs freshly from his sleep,
Shakes his thin sun-curls, while his eyebeams leap,

As half in fear, along the stranger's dress,
Then, half advancing, yields to his caress;
Then peers beneath his locks, and seeks his eye,
With the clear look of radiant infancy,

The cherub smile of love, the azure of the sky.
The stranger now is kneeling by the side
Of that young mother, watching for the tide.
Of her returning life: it comes; a glow
Goes faintly, slowly, o'er her cheek and brow:
A rising of the gauze that lightly shrouds

A snowy breast, like twilight's melting clouds,
In nature's pure, still eloquence, betrays

The feelings of the heart that reels beneath his gaze.

AMBITION.

I LOVED to hear the war-horn cry,

And panted at the drum's deep roll; And held my breath, when-flaming highI saw our starry banners fly,

As challenging the haughty sky;

They went like battle o'er my soul: For I was so ambitious then,

I burn'd to be the slave of men.

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I stood and saw in the morning light,
A standard swaying far and free;
And loved it like the conquering flight
Of angels floating wide and bright,
Above the stars, above the fight

Where nations warred for liberty:
And thought I heard the battle-cry
Of trumpets in the hollow sky.

I sail'd upon the dark-blue deep,

And shouted to the eagle soaring;
And hung me from a rocking steep,
When all but spirits were asleep:
And O, my very soul would leap

To hear the gallant waters roaring:
For every sound and shape of strife
To me was but the breath of life.

THE BIRTH OF A POET.

ON a blue summer night,

When the stars were asleep,

Like gems of the deep,

In their drowsy light;

While the newly-mown hay

On the green earth lay,

And all that came near it went scented away.

From a lone, woody place

There look'd out a face,

With large, blue eyes,

Like the wet, warm skies,

Brim full of water and light;
A profusion of hair

Flashing out in the air,

And a forehead alarmingly bright!

'Twas the head of a poet! He grew

As the sweet, strange flowers of the wilderness grow,

In the dropping of natural dew,

Unheeded-alone

Till his heart had blown

As the sweet, strange flowers of the wilderness blow!

Till every thought wore a changeable strain,
Like flower-leaves wet with the sunset rain:
A proud and passionate boy was he,
Like all the children of Poesy;

With a haughty look, and a haughty tread,
And something awful about his head;
With wonderful eyes,

Full of woe and surprise,

Like the

eyes of them that can see the dead. Looking about,

For a moment or two, he stood,

On the shore of the mighty wood;

Then ventured out,

With a bounding step and a joyful shout, The brave sky bending o'er him!

The broad sea all before him!

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