I'LL WEAR THY RINGS, SWEET JEWEL. 139 As the starry diamonds spangling On midnight's sable screen. 'Neath raven circlets darkling, I have watched their golden light Break forth in lustrous sparkling, Like fire-flies, glowing bright. So I'll wear thy rings, sweet jewel! They are treasures unto me; I'll wear them, dearest jewel! For they talk loved things of thee. But when, in pensive duty, I stole beside thy bier, To kiss thee last, my beauty! They sparkled through a tear; 'Twas then I vowed such treasure The grave should never hide, I'll wear them, sweetest jewel! Till I sleep in death with thee. ANGELS OF MERCY. SHOT, Struck, and sabred, our poor soldiers lay 'Mid festering woe: and sickened there to lie. The red field found them strangers to dismay, But who, un-nursed, could uncomplaining die? While veterans shuddered, and heart-stricken, stood, To see long miles of agony and blood. Yet there was one, a maid divinely bold, Who braved and breathed the pestilential air— A gentle creature, formed in tenderest mould, But strong in love, and piety, and prayer, Who soothed the sufferers, and hushed their wail. Let babes unborn bless Florence Nightingale. A man of feeling, too, one strong of head, And good of heart as he of head was great, Went out and sorrowed o'er the soldier's bed, And fought with Death, or reconciled to fate. And long as England hath a history, Godolphin Osborne shall remembered be. THE TWO SUNSETS. MUSING in a gorgeous sunset, Bidding gentle fancies play; Gazing on the rower's paddles, Sounds symphonious broke upon me, Melting into dying cadence, Like a distant waterfall. Music sweet and so melodious I had never heard before, And I turned my ear to listen, Ravished to my spirit's core. When my soul was thrilled with rapture, Wakened by the music rare, "Twas a little fairy harpist Playing on the subtle air. All below the skies was lovely ; Nature on a couch of bliss, Sighing lay and silent languished Pearly cloudlets far above me, Wand'ring at their own sweet will, Changed from snowy white to silver, Then to golden, richer still. Then the skies of softened azure, Grandly marked with orange dots, Slowly melting into amber, Changed again to sooty spots. Such, I said, is human beauty, Smiling health and rosy bloom: Ever like a sunset glory Hastening to darkest gloom. On that eve a gentle being Died, as lovely as the day, Listening to her favourite poet Chanting a celestial lay. In her dimly-lighted chamber, By her side her maidens sate, Reading Scripture words of comfort Touching her immortal state. When a cautious footfall stealing Told her blest and darling mother See, her dying hand is waving, List, they ask the reason why: "Tis that precious loved one's signal, 'Mother, do not see me die. "Spare, oh, spare thy tender feelings, For thy other loved ones' sake, Sister, father, loving brothers, Lest my heart-strings sooner break." To that chamber, when the sunset Warmed again the western sky, Sorrowful, my steps I bended, In her shroud to see her lie. |