Pause not to dream of the future before us;
Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o’er us;
Hark! how Creation’s deep, musical chorus,
Unintermitting, goes up into Heaven!
Never the ocean-wave falters in flowing;
Never the little seed stops in its...
Frances Sargent Osgood
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The hand that swept the sounding lyre
With more than mortal skill,
The lightning eye, the heart of fire,
The fervent lip are still!
No more, in rapture or in woe,
With melody to thrill,
Ah, nevermore!But angel hands shall...
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Your heart is a music-box, dearest!
With exquisite tunes at command,
Of melody sweetest and clearest,
If tried by a delicate hand;
But its workmanship, love, is so fine,
At a single rude touch it would break;
Then, oh! be the magic key mine,... -
a whisper woke the air,
A soft, light tone, and low,
Yet barbed with shame and woe.
Ah! might it only perish there,
Nor farther go!But no! a quick and eager ear
Caught up the little, meaning sound;
Another voice... -
A dryad’s home was once the tree
From which they carved this wondrous toy,
Who chanted lays of love and glee,
Till every leaflet thrilled with joy.But when the tempest laid it low,
The exiled fay flew to and fro;
Till finding here her home once... -
She comes—the spirit of the dance!
And but for those large, eloquent eyes,
Where passion speaks in every glance,
She ’d seem a wanderer from the skies.So light that, gazing breathless there,
Lest the celestial dream should go,
You ’d think... -
Come to me, angel of the weary hearted!
Since they my loved ones, breathed upon by thee,
Unto thy realms unreal have departed,
I too may rest—even I: ah! haste to me.I dare not bid thy darker, colder brother
With his more welcome offering appear,...