While trembling on the falling dew Or, hanging o'er that mirror-stream, Though, blazing on the arch of night, Thine are the soft enchanting hours Thine is the breeze that, murmuring bland Fair STAR! though I be doom'd to prove That rapture's tears are mix'd with pain, Ah! still I feel 'tis sweet to love! But sweeter to be lov'd again! TO AN INDIAN GOLD COIN. SLAVE of the dark and dirty mine! So bright, whom I have bought so dear?— The jackal's shriek bursts on mine ear When mirth and music wont to charm. By Chérical's dark wandering streams, By Esk or Eden's classic wave, Where loves of youth and friendship smil'd, Uncurs'd by thee, vile yellow slave! Fade, day-dreams sweet, from memory fade! The perish'd bliss of youth's first prime, That once so bright on fancy play'd, Revives no more in after time. Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave; The daring thoughts that soar'd sublime Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. Slave of the mine! thy yellow light Gleams baleful on the tomb-fire drear- A gentle vision comes by night My lonely widow'd heart to cheer; Her eyes are dim with many a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine: Her fond heart throbs with many a fear! I cannot bear to see thee shine. For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave, I cross'd the tedious ocean-wave, To roam in climes unkind and new: The cold wind of the stranger blew Chill on my wither'd heart :-the grave Dark and untimely met my view— And all for thee, vile yellow slave! Ha! com'st thou now so late to mock To memory's fond regrets the prey, Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn! Go mix thee with thy kindred clay! |