Morning herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1837-1840, 1840-12-02
AY MORNING, DECEMBER 2, 1910.
From Lady Byron and other Poems Of

ALEXANDER
MDONALD CLARKE.
'ssrriag EdDard MONEYS Portrait u .aehme Sen Tina
ni one ef the rooms in fhs CITY Hail.
The Arabic Prince.
Author of the Arab Chief,
Child Ny poverty and scorn,
WrcIoNn you with the olive leaf
For which your name was hotn
The pie emblem Of
A calm and siness life,
Dinplcd with deeds Of love,
mere all IS selfish strife.
The olive leai-alas,
That lnurels should out bloom
Shripes OF stone and brass,
Amid the Sraye-y ards gloom.
But years are coming fast,
When the warriors crimson crown,
Shall in the dust be cast,
And wisely trampled down.
The olive leaf y i'll wave.
When Havocs bloody bay,
Whose root is in the grave,
Is coldly cast away.
We rest upon your head,
The modest crown Of Peace
You can embalm the dead,
And bid cur anguish cease
You can stop between
Love and the las, sad hour
Embalm dying scene,
In all its mourniul power
We love you, for the strength
That God has kindly lent,
Paint Virtue at full length,
With Angels round her bent
Chasten your melted years.
Tot cause, that cannot fail
Pray, till your pillows tears
Turn that red cheek pale.
Pray, for the moral nerve
To help your MAKE RS cause;
To humbly kncel and serve,
When the World is all applause.
Though you are lonely no,o
Your temples will be hot
With wreaths about your brow
Forward, brother, and fear not
Lift high that dropping head,
Look in the Futures face;
The lights of Fame are shed
Onyou and all your race.
Heaven gave you not dead gold,
But a far richer gilt
To warm the heart that's cold,
And Feelings coarssness silt
To fondly look between
Affection, and the dead,
Save many faded scene,
And many God1ike head
To catch the CLEANS ofthought,
That cross thinking eye,
Till all the soul Is caught,
As Passion flashes by.
When Wealth shall, at your feet,
Her Regal rubbish lay,
And Grandeur's children meet.
Their slow respect to pay.
When you have conquered all
That held you from your place,
And Trumph's trumpet call
6houS-reverence to your race.
And they who once look down,
And deemed you little worth,
Offer the olive crown,
And seat you by their hearth,
Open their homes, and hearts,
So coldly shut, for years,
And act those gentler parts,
That swell the eye with tears
o, in that dizzy hour,
When even the proudes fau,
Forget not whence the Power,
To whom you owe-eA
Forget not Him, whose Light
Is blazing through your soul,
Pray, that his quiet might
May guard your sell control.
And when the World shall bow,
And Nations kiss your name.
And round your boyish brow
Flash the full leaves ofFame,
When that lewly name is high
As the sun, on the throne ofNoon,
And many fond blueeye
Smiles, like the summer moon.
When mute temptations swell
Beside your blushing eyes,
And thoughts, too wild to tell,
About you family rise,
when you are tempted, till
Your nerves begin to fail,
And sweet emotions thrill
Your burning heart and brain
In that delicious hour,
When Beauty kneels, aud signs,
Forget not whence the power,
In whom your sefeiy lies
Forget not God, who gave
CLEANS OF his soul to thee,
To light the dsrk'ning grave,
That Love, her lost, might see.
Forget not what thou art
An angel, robcd in clay
To charm the human heart.
And decorate your day.
Dawn. and sundown day and night,
Battle yoar power with tears,
And God will lead Lifes wasderings right,
And Ugh, its evening years.
New York, September 2sth, lsio.