Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1849-1856, 1852-07-08
poetilal.

g,ggr etieal. g,
UrThe following Is one Of the most
beautiful poems, from the pen Of any
wri,cr, ofthe present day
From the Memphis Eagle & Enquirer.
The MansOleum.
ByI. VIRGINIA SMITH.
HProm rnemor,'s chambers the forms OF the Past,
The Joys Of my Childhood rush by on the blast,
And the lost one whose beauty used To adore,
TO my heart seems 20 murmur- no more never
mole! :"
Midnight "a pilgrim spirit stands aone
In nsmory's temple. Vague and shadowy
O'er ruined shrine, and altar, shines the star
ofDes,ipy, revealing mournfully
Fair, faded treasures which the heart has striyen
To reseue from decay. Gray y-tint~d dreams
Which erst like glory -blazoned bsnners waved
Upon the winds Of morning. moudering hang
Prom ths-fsr d,ssky dome - remembrances,
IN fsin, and htfal breeses, shuddcr through
1he hollow sounding aisles. No solitude
Il dresr ~ that where sighs wailing wind -
No heart 90 lone az that whose hidden vaults
Are haunted by moaning memory,
The bell strikes one i-'sis like the ghostly cry
ofthe wild, warning Banshee Down the sislss
Deep strewn with dying roses, broken gems,
And sulied plumes, the psllid spirit slides.
Its star Of Destiny is veiled and dim
Tie sad breeze chills IL, and the banner. dreams
" i,h mildew dropping downward, strife its brow
Like the dark horror Of the bats black wing
IN some cold cavern. Still IL fslters not;
Till kneelng by tomb, with dropping plumss,
From its pale parted lips steals forth strain
or mourning melody, like buried loves
Low-ehsnted miserere.
"Far away.
Upon q distant shore, thine early grave
Was followed by the stranger i-elose and stil
The damp mould wIsps thee, and the moonbesms
Al tenderly upon ~, like the wan
White hand Of silence. Here, one year ago
Toni; ht, and thou vert laid 10 rest beneath
This msusolsum lone and have watched
Each passing day, As sands of 7 iEe, that fell
In thy deep sepulchre, like icy clods
Upon the coffin lid. Pale Memory
Aud pnlcr Pity strew thy tomb with flowers,
Aud weep nbove thee, though the phnniolus dire
Of sin, and shame, aud sorrow darklI cover
Beside the monument.
All thine was not
The love that from the holy vesper-star
st-ais in u svery shadow softly down
To the white lily's bosom nor the wind
That lightly dnllies with the violet
Nor Yet the bee AT noontide slumbering
IN the sun folded tulips honied heart.
Twas pa,sion-a and IL sank into my soul,
Az strikes the lightning. iiash into the wave,
And turns the common pebbles in its dceys
To molten jewels yet IL was II nau.e
That burned in water, where IL could not wako
Returning npme. Twas lightning aud ito home
Was In the cloud and tempest ;--o'er the stream
my sweet childhood glooinily IL hung
As shadows from fallen angels wing,
Aud waves that caught the fercely beautiful
r. nertion, trembled to th,ir secret springs.
That proud, dark pinion came between my soul
Aud Heayen,-shut out IN, sun,-the earth and all
Fave the Wild lustre Of thy burnnge,e
Full Of strong witohery, Ill e wandering fire
ar-shining down u fahomless aby,s
In which We long to plunge-then turn away
Heart sick, and shLdderpg at the f. srful spell
Yet Oft my spirit gazing on thy proud
Aid glorious beauty, asked ofholy Heaven
What great good II had done, that il should be
Bcst with a love like thine : Twas mockery all
A cold aud cunning curse for till my heart
Could brave the wrath of an offended God,
Il might not dare to love thee
So thy life
Has persisted like a bold, Tree mountain stream,
erwhei med by lava-torren', pouring forth
From the volcanic heart bat kened now
All dust and ashes. Living, WAS made
To odread thee deeply-dead, pity thee
And weep thy melancholy destiny.
Thou gav'st the mind its gems the folded heart
Its budding blossoms, and The soul its wings
Oflofty aspiration they have shone,
And boomed, and scared, but not for thee they
lie
strewn on the worlds cold altars, and around
Thy colder sepulchre; within the fame
OF Memory! !"