The Osceola times., 1883-07-21

win their broad belt OF lrces-
A stiffness rests upon the shore
Like mist no sound except when sea
And air their melodies repeat,
Low, melancholy, free.
No house expect the fishers hut,
No beacon save one warning,
Stood sentry DER the wilderness
To break its gloom of night,
Till one bold yachlsman, sailing by,
Deserted the granduer of the isle
Who, like Columbus kissed the soil,
Aud fingered here awhile.
Another year he came again,
To build cottage on the shore
And another summer wanderers brought,
Its mysteries 10 explore
They rambled round the rock bound shore;
They followed out the woodlands road,
They scrambled up the mountains side.
Returning with a lead
Ofhowers, MOSES, lichens ferns:
Through wild ravin,s they chased the deer
The timid trout in crystal pools
Their shadows learned to fear.
The birds that made the woods reSound
With natures mnstrelsy, ere long
Took flight from their primcyal home,
Chanting farewell song.
Twas here saw fair Geneveve,
Fair, laughing, brght-eycd Genevicve,
Just when nights Queen began TO weave
The silvery veil of eve
Bachelors NAV not like the following
sensualists may put a vulgar inteIprcta-
ton on it dudes and misers fail to see
just where it differs from ninety per
cent. of the sentimental trash that passes
for the poetry of love, but the nameless
author has other instincts and sights
than these and appeals to world that
has some heart 10 lose, and that has moi
vet lost il wholly. Ina word, II is
CuPID's VISION.
rwere pleasure after pain,
Her too cold heart to gain
To royel in her charms,
To shield her from all harms
And know that hope was sure,
Her wondrous eyes allure,
Look timidly in mine
And fsscinate like wine,
And here, is somewhat extended
poem christcned "Alcacus," are couple
of beautiful verses on the Imagination
reviving that well-nigh obsolete faculty
and clothing it with worthy garments
Tho hope of ofirsmortality-the flower
That boomed in Eden the amaranth that grow,
Perennial in the mind the mysterious power
Which calras the rebel heart of man the throes
of nations moistcus like spring tide shower
The seeds of worth where'er lifes river flows
These hopes are born of our imagination
And christened by the blood Of revelation.
This is the brightest jewel Of the mind
The starry cynosure of wondering eyes,
The Kohinoor that miners seldom find
'Tis this which makes the bard of Chios rise,
Like Hi:nalsya, far above mankind;
1t plumed the wing on which the seraph flies
Whom Thetis casped within her watcry arm
Before the world Rad heard his wo drous charms
Sleep,divine sleep,that knitteth up tn,
raveled skein of care, natures sweet re
storer has been sung by the best voice'
and its fine spirit is TO this day the mos
poet to breathe in song. In Dreams
of course there are some lines to sleep
Sleep, sweet Sleep Unlike thy brother Death
Thou ioldcst US within thine arms for hours,
To freshen us with evenings balmy breath,
To drive away all care compelling powers,
And give sweet resurrection after death
Our hearts revive, like wi,he cd fields will
showers
when Death aud Sleep lay in the arms of Nigh
She smo, hered one, the other gave to Light.
II is very tender, may sad, and some
times piercing strain, as all rich musi,
OF nature, or man, or woman, is apt tC
be; but it is the tenderness of inspira.
ton, whose smile is deeper than tho
laughter of clowns. There are flaws, n,
we said, and here and there a straininc
Of social philosophy which argues that 9
woman's heart and hand have done the
suffering and the tracing that lead,
eventually to such work as we have il
Dreams; but the art is unique and tho
genius supreme. Perhaps the poem on
Mary "Wolstoncraft" is of the most hu
man interest, and in some respects the
best, in others the least superior, of any
in the volume.
WoLSrONCRAFT.
The agony OF love that made thy life
Romance, glory threw ar .uni thy fame,
Made thee the envy of men of proudcr name,
The scorn Of every fond and welded wife
love! holy love thy mystery
No pions incarnation can explain
No necromancc thy sacred secret gain.
or ravel out thy thread of history
Indisputablc proposition; indisputa
Bile fine, rich impulses of wisdom back o
1t, and with this earnest renaissance o
the spirit of Chauaer and Wordsworth
combined we may take leave of tn,
Dreams of our unknown, feeling quit,
sure they will come again, like the visit
of angels, wht never there is a human
need and the skies are sufficiently clear