Prose and Verse [pp. 733-735]

The Last Command.-Fortune and the Dream.-Prose and Verse.
733
All lowly he bent
To kiss her white hand,
And won her consent
At the altar to stand.
And when the morn broke, 1 vanish'd away,
But that fair girl will think of me all the long day.
A happier fate is thine
Than mine, replied dame fortune I brought pure gold from the mine
To one who was importune:
I made him prosperous, and great,
And he was rais'd to high estate.
It is but yesterday
That from his sight I vanish'd,
His wealth flew away,
His contentment was banish'd.
MORAL.
Alas, and alas! there is nought what it seems,
We mortals are ever happiest in dreams.
Eames' Place, 1841.
PROSE AND VERSE.
FROM AN AMATEUR'S PORTFOLIO.
I.
We are a paragraph-reading people. Americans
will devour a newspaper article, but shudder at a
volume! They will read a paragraph of six lines,
but avoid one of a column. They judge of what
they shall read, not so much by its value, as by its
length. What reason does philosophy assign for
this 1. We are always in a hurry-we exist chiefly
on the go-a-head principle. Some rise with the
sun, but trifle the morning away: others, at the
first tingle of the dinner-bell, bounce down at the
table, to swallow, not eat, their dinner, and in five
minutes start away, not to business, but to sit by
the tavern door and pick their teeth. If we cross
a ferry, the instant the steamer approaches near to
the wharf, some one, more go-a-head-tive than his
fellows, leaps ashore at the peril of his life-not to
achieve some master-stroke of policy-but to stand
still and see the passengers land after him. Merchants build ships to cross the Atlantic one day
faster than their neighbors-and some Captains, in
the vain-glorious strife of making a passage an
hour shorter than their rivals, beach their ships.
The destruction of property, and the loss of life,
have never entered into their calculations.
The endeavor of Americans is to do things
quickly, rather than well: they are more desirous
of applying the least possible period of time to any
one action, than of using time advantageously.
And all is done with the most serious face imaginable; for Americans seldom laugh, and even
rarely smile; they have a sedate and thoughtful
expression, as if they were busy with some important matter of their own, and had not one momnent to spare a neighbor.
If, therefore, it be true, as I assert it is, that we
Fight on!-I cannot ask ye moreWhile one remains to bide the blow!
viii.
What though ye bend at Mecca's shrine,
Though call'd an Infidel;
What though youir God's no god of mine,
Fight on, and fight ye well!
For he who breaks a tyrant's rod,
Need never fear the Christian's God!
THE LAST COMMAND.
BY ROBERT L. WADE.
I.
Bear me not to the silent tomb,
With tears and unmanly grief,
Nor let the cloud of shadowy gloom,
Tinge your thoughts of the final doom
Of a life so bright yet brief.
II.
I'll have no hymn nor funeral dirge
Chaunted o'er my senseless form;
Far fitter will be the roar of the surge,
Lashing the rocks with its watery scourge,
And the revelry wild of tihe storm.
III.
Nor yet shall the boom of the minute gun
Follow my parting breath;
Let it rest, untold that my race is run,
For few w ill mourn for the loss of one
Who hated all, even in death.
Iv.
The muffl'd drum must its clamor hold,
And let not the trumpet peal;
One banner alone, when this form is cold,
Its gorgeous insignia shall o'er me unfold,
The banner bright of fair Castile.
V.
Seek out for me on the lone sea shore,
A spot which none else may find;
Some rocky ledge, witere the breakers roar;
Then leave me there to return no more,
Banished from every mind.
FORTITNE AND THE DREAM.
(Versified from the German.)
BY MRS. E. J. EAMES.
A Dream flitted by the cave,
Where Fortune lay sleeping,
And broke with his winglet's wave,
The rest she was keeping.
Whence com'st thou? ask'd the lady proud,
With thy aerial shape, and silvery shroud?
I come, the Dream said,
From a beautiful maiden,
Whose soft-pillow'd head,
And breast, I have laden
With bliss, in the name
And shape of a lover;
With wealth, rank and fame,
Around her to hover;
1841.]