148 LOVE AND FAME. Like the Chaldean sage, Fame's worshippers adore The brilliant orbs that scatter light But in their very hearts enshrined, The votaries of Love Keep e'er the holy flame, which once Give me the boon of Love! Whose loudest echo ever floats Give me the boon of Love! The path of Fame is drear, And Glory's arch doth ever span A hill-side cold and sere. One wild flower from the path of Love, All lowly though it lie, Is dearer than the wreath that waves To stern Ambition's eye. LOVE AND FAME. 149 Give me the boon of Love! The lamp of Fame shines far, But Love's soft light glows near and warm- One tender glance can fill the soul With a perennial fire; But Glory's flame burns fitfully A lone, funereal pyre. Give me the boon of Love! Fame's trumpet-strains depart, But Love's sweet lute breathes melody And the scroll of Fame will burn When sea and earth consume, But the rose of Love in a happier sphere, NAPOLEON AT REST. BY J. PIERPONT. His falchion flashed along the Nile, Here sleeps he now, alone!-not one, Of all the kings whose crowns he gave, Bends o'er his dust; nor wife nor son Has ever seen or sought his grave. Behind the sea-girt rock, the star That led him on from crown to crown Has sunk, and nations from afar Gazed as it faded and went down. High is his tomb: the ocean flood, Far, far below, by storms is curledAs round him heaved, while high he stood, A stormy and unstable world. NAPOLEON AT REST. Alone he sleeps: the mountain cloud, That night hangs round him, and the breath Of morning scatters, is the shroud That wraps the conqueror's clay in death. Pause here! The far-off world at last Breathes free; the hand that shook its thrones And to the earth its mitres cast, Lies powerless now beneath these stones. Hark! Comes there from the pyramids, And Europe's hills, a voice that bids The only, the perpetual dirge That's heard here, is the sea-bird's cryThe mournful murmur of the surge, The cloud's deep voice, the wind's low sigh. M 151 |