Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1839-01-16
p O ID II e = 0

The following stanzas are from the pen of Young
virginian who draws his inspiration from the pu
rest sources Of poetry. He is just seventeen year,
of age, and displays already knowledge of versifi
cation and a sense Of the beautiful, which rarel,
falls to msturer life. We augur well Of his success
as an elegant writer 10 prose, in which few exec
who have not toyed awhile with the muses. in the
days of youth Ths author ia a native of Jefferson
county Va, and now resides in kentucky-.Nor
.foik Beacon.
From the Louisville Literary Register
To A LARK.
BY JAMES WILSON MATTHEWS.
Bright minstrel of the Spring,
That singst mid the flowers and silver dew,
Thy path il sunward now--amd the blue
fthe far skies doth ring
Thy sweet and shrilly welcome to the morn,
As though some bright fay blew his tiny horn.
And fainter still doth breathe
Thy gushing song, as far away on high
Thy little form is fading from the eye;
And morn doth round thee wreathe
Her robe Of beauty, fragant with the scent
OF early flowers, with thy sweet music blent,
And now thy buoyant wing
Quivers no more in brightness-'mid the skies
Thou'rt lost; and yet serenely dost thou RISE
A sweet and blessed thing,
And sesmst spirit all too bright for earth
Like young hope which singeth in its birth.
love thee, gentle bird,
Far more than all thy playmatcs of the grove;
And sweeter than the voice of rs inwove
With melody, when stirred
BY the lone zephyr, is thy lay
So eloquent we may not turn away.
With the odorous sweets
OfHowers thou contest, when they bend to drink
fsome bright stream that laves its messy brink
In music, as it meets
Their delicate kisses and doth reply
To their sweet language, as it murinurs by
Thou CONTEST when the bee
Flatters midst scented fields and fragrantbowers
Its faint, sweet lay, in mornings rosy hours;
And then the melody
Breaks wildly forth. as though thy little soul
Were passing, in thy strain, beyond control.
Sing on sweet bird, sing on
could not bid thee cease; my weary heart
Throbs wildly, and the trembling will start
For loved ones who are conc
For with thy strain come thrilling memories
Ofbetter hours and brighter scenes than these.
Oh! whsse, alas! ere those
Who gathered round me in my youth f-the young
Warm-hearted ones, who loved when sorrow wruDg
WY spirit win It's woes
Who won me with their sympathy-all, all
Are gone-the friends whom Time can ne 'er recall.
The cold and joyless grave
Hath gathered some into its chill embrace;
The pail hath shrouded many once lov'd face
Ofeary friends, who gave
A sweetness unto life, and have stood
And wePt them in my solitude.
And am lonely now,
sad and weary pilgrim through this life,
Hopeless and desolate, reckless of its strife;
For upon my brow
Has left its seal, and sorrow in my heart
It's bitter tokens, which will not depart
Till death hath made his throne
Upon my frame--and who will think of me
When l am gone ?-alas, my voice must be
Forgotten, ike tone
Ofwild and wailino music, which will melt
The heart, and dies while its sad power is felt.
Sweet lark thy mournful song
Hurries me back to other days, and Ger
Their faded scenes linger yet once more
In sadness, after long,
Long years, and voices speak from every spot
OF hopes and joys that have been-but not
Sing on sweet bird, sing -
j could not bid thee cease; my weary heart
Throbs wildly, and the trembling tear will start
For loved ones who gone
For with thy strain come thrilling memories
OF better hours and brighter scenes than these.
South Hanooer, Indiana.