COOPER, whose name is with his country's woven,
First in her files, her PIONEER of mind—
A wanderer now in other climes, has proven
STRANGERS! your eyes are on that valley fixed
Intently, as we gaze on vacancy,
When the mind's wings overspread
The spirit-world of dreams.
At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power;
WILD ROSE of Alloway! my thanks:
Thou 'mindst me of that autumn noon
When first we met upon 'the banks
LADY, although we have not met,
And may not meet, beneath the sky;
And whether thine are eyes of jet,
Gray, or dark blue, or violet,
Green be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.
'BESIDE the nuptial curtain bright'
The Bard of Eden sings,
'Young Love his constant lamp will light,
—still her gray rocks tower above the sea
That crouches at their feet, a conquered wave;
THOU com'st, in beauty, on my gaze at last,
'On Susquehannah's side, fair Wyoming!'
Image of many a dream, in hours long past,
THERE is an evening twilight of the heart,
When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest,
And the eye see's life's fairy scenes depart,