American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1827-04-24
pry Wilson, No. 1Oo, Market Street.
Volume VII.

Unto the mighty Cordlera land,
With men whom tales Of tina, worlds golden strand
Had Iured to leave their vines OH who shall say
What thoughts in us when the tropic sky
Touch'd all its molten seas with sunsets alchemy
The strength Of Leonor sinks under her suffer-
ings and meantime the ship is becalmed
Il knew not all--yei something of unrest
Sat on NY heart Wake, ocean-wind! salds
Watt US TO land, in leafy freshness drest,
Where through rich clouds Of foliage DER her head
Sweet day may steal and rills unseen 60 BY,
Like singing Voices and the green earth lie
Starry with flowers, beneath her graceful tread
But the calm bound Us midst the CLASSY main
Ne'er her step TO bend earths living o~ers agan.
A fearful thing that love and des,h may dwell
In the world She faded on--and l.
Blind to the last, there needed death 10 tell
My trusting soul that she could fade 10 die
Yet, she parted had markd change,
But ii breathed hope-'twas beautiful though strange,
Something of gladness in the melody
Of her low voice, and in her words flight
OF airy though,-.alss! too perilously bright
On the mid seas a kneli for man there.
Anguish and ove-the mourner with his dead!
A long low rolling knell-a voice Of prayer
Dark CLASSY waters, like desert spread
And the pale shining Southern Cross Oh high.
Its faint fading from solemn sky,
Where mighty clouds before the dawn grew red
Were these things round ME Such Der memory sweep
Wildly When a.ght brings bAcs that burial Of tie deep
The wind rose free and singing ~ hen for ever,
Ger that sole SPOT Of all the watery plain,
could have 5ett my sight with fond endeaver
Then rose Inc reckless wind Before PROV
The white foam fashd--sy joyonsly-and thou
Vert left With all the SOLITARY main
Around ihee--and thy beauty in my heart, part
And thy meek sorrowing lcveoh where could thar ds-
will not speak Of woe may not tell
Friend tells mt such to rend-he thoughts which rent
My fainting spirit. when its Wild farewell
Across he bllows to thy grave sent,
Thou here most lonely HE ,lat sits above,
II his calm glory, will forgive the love,
His creatures bear each other, ey'n if bens
With vain worship; tor It's close is dim
Ever with grief which leads the wrung soul back 10 Hms
And with milder pang if now I beal
| To think Of thee in thy forssken rest
| If from my heart be Lifted the despair,
/! The sharp remorse with healing influence pressds
] IF the soft eyes that visit me ~ sleep
| Look not reproach though still hey seem to weep.
| 1t is that He my sacrifice hath blessd,
And fld my bosom, through ts nnost cell,
With deep Christening that all at last is we'll.
But we must cease making extracts, for we could
not transfer all that is beautiful in the poem. with
out transferring the whole.
1t has been said, that religion never be made
a subject of interest in poetry. The position is a
false one, refuted by the close alliance between
poetic inspiration and sacred enthusiasm. Irrel-
gon has certainly no place in poetry. There may
have been atheist philosophers; an atheist poet is
an impossbility. The poet may doubt and reason
like Hamlet, but the moment he acquiesces in
belief, there is an end to the magic of poetry. I'M
agination can no longer throw lively haes over the
creation the forests cease to be haunted; the seas
and the air, and the heavens to TEEN with Tie.
The highest interest, we think. attaches to Mrs.
femans's writings, from the spirit Of Christianity
which peryades them