Susan Evance

PALE ruthless Demon! terrible Despair!
Whose step is horror, and whose voice is death!
Thou rid'st on blasts that rend the midnight air,
Mingling with wintry storms thy baleful breath.
...

IN the lone hall my harp is hung,
While dusky twilight reigns around;
I hear light fingers o'er it flung,
They wake a sad and solemn sound.
...

FAREWELL seducing Hope! no more
Upon thy pinions wild I soar;
No more pursue thy sportive train
Through lovely Fancy's flowery maze,
...

SOFT as the dews of weeping Night
Fall on the bosom of the Rose,
Soft as the summer zephyr's flight,
When sighing thro' the leaves it blows; -
...

I HAVE preserved thee, helpless Fly,
From the fell Spider's cruel power;
I heard thy faint imploring cry,
And bore thee from the deathful bower.
...

SPIRIT! who fill'st the earth and skies!
From Nature's scenes I hear arise,
A voice, that sweetly tells my soul
Thy pow'r and love have form'd the whole.
...

WHEN Morning comes with smiles so gay,
O'er heathy hills I love to stray,
Where lustrous drops of pearly dew
Sparkle upon the hare-bell blue,
...

O YE who ride upon the wand'ring gale,
And silently, yet swiftly pass away-
I love to view you, when the glimmering ray
Of early morning tints your forms so pale,
...

NOW wild the blasts of Autumn sweep along
These rugged rocks, this solitary shore!
Mingled with Ocean's deep tempestuous roar,
And many a sea-bird's melancholy song.
...

AH happy insect! free from care
Thou sportest on the flutt'ring breeze;
Wild as the fragrant mountain air,
And playful as the waving trees.
...

WHERE are the tearful smile of youthful Spring,
That nurs'd the budding leaves and infant flow'rs?
Ah! vanish'd- like those dear regretted hours
That fled away on Pleasure's fairy wing,
...

Oh! thou art chang'd, poor wither'd flower!
No more thy form of azure hue
At morning's bright and fragrant hour,
Shall smile through tears of glitt'ring dew.
...

YON oak has brav'd full many a wintry storm,
And frown'd defiance to the changeful year.
The summer lightnings flashed in fury near,
The gales of Autumn howI'd around its form,
...

WHY should I fear the spirits of the dead?
What if they wander at the hour of night,
Amid these sacred walls, with silent tread,
And dimly visible to mortal sight!
...

O HAPPINESS! thou fair enchanting form,
That, rob'd in brightness, swiftly steal'st along;
Oft mingling with the gay the glittering throng
Of blue-eyed laughing Hope- or glowing warm,
...

ALAS! how sad to bid farewell
To those whom tenderly we love!
Our trembling lips refuse to tell
What sighs more eloquently prove.
...

WHY do I muse on moments that are past
Like the fond visions of an airy dream,
With weeping tenderness, and thought o'ercast
With shades of deep regret? Alas! they seem
...

SOFT dew-drop, glittering on the spray
O'er which the sportive breezes fly,
Ah little brilliant trembler, say,
Art thou a tear from Morning's eye?
...

WITH weeping tenderness once more I gaze
On these romantic scenes I love so well:
Where peace and pensive solitude still dwell,
As in my happy childhood's smiling days;
...

PALE Twilight! bath'd in tears of dew,
Which fall in many a silent show'r-
I love the gently fading hue
That marks thy melancholy hour.
...