Joanna Baillie Poems

ASK you, 'What charms first chain'd my heart,
'And held me from the world apart,
'Made young ambition's turmoil cease,
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'TWAS night in Babylon,--yet many a beam
Of lamps, far glittering from her domes on high,
Shone, brightly mingling in Euphrates' stream,
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THE chough and crow to roost are gone,
   The owl sits on the tree,
The hush'd wind wails with feeble moan,
   Like infant charity.
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I.
INSENSIBLE to high heroic deeds,
Is there a spirit clothed in mortal weeds,
Who at the Patriot's moving story,
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IN these our days of sentiment
When youthful poets all lament
Some dear lost joy, some cruel maid;
Old friendship changed and faith betrayed;
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FREIGHTED with passengers of every sort,
A motley throng, thou leav'st the busy port.
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WHAT voice is this, thou evening gale!
That mingles with thy rising wail;
And, as it passes, sadly seems
The faint return of youthful dreams?
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O LORD supreme, whose works so fair,
Sublime and varied, every where
The gazing eye delight!
Thy wisdom, power, and love, the day
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YES ,--whilst my sight is yet allow'd to rest
On those dear features, (which it calms my breast
To look upon, and, as I watch them, give
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WHEN, at rising morn we lave
Our dark limbs in the shiny wave,
When beneath the palm-tree shade,
We rest awhile in freshness laid,
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