Obrazy na stronie

strains seemed floating round me. The cloud opened, and a lovely female, attired in a modest robe of the softest texture, holding in her hand a branch of olive, came gently on: beauty and goodness were pourtrayed on her brow; she gazed on mě as she passed ; I would have attempted to follow her, but my guide detained me; watched her, I thought I saw, through gleams of light, a shadowy hand that beckoned her away; she looked most kindly upon us, then vanished. The melody increased ;

as I


again the golden cloud unclosed, and there came forth a majestic female with an intellectual brow, who seemed conscious of her power, and looked on us to see if we acknowledged it. I bent before her, but she turned away, then anon looked back, but the cloud had again opened, and a nymph appeared gliding towards us with more than earthly grace; her form realized all that I had pictured as belonging to beings of a higher sphere : dignity and beauty sat enthroned on her lovely brow,--as she cast her eyes towards us, methought, at first, that there was something of severity in her look, but she smiled with such enchanting sweetness that I felt entranced with love and joy, and made a desperate effort to follow her.—But, alas ! in a moment I thought myself standing on a high and barren rock with crags and precipices on every side, beyond was a vast, dark, and waste howling wilderness, the wind sighed mournfully, and tempest clouds were gathering around me. My


Conductor's voice conveyed to me these words. Adieu, look near you and think on what is written there.”-I looked and saw an anchor fast mouldering to decay, on it half obliterated was the word Hope.– I

I wept, and awoke weeping, and then knew, that what I had seen was only a dream and a vision. I found myself on the shore of the ocean, the moon shed her softened light on the woods and flood, the gems of heaven glittered above me, the breeze murmured whispers among

the moss and wiry grass, a solitary sea bird passed me, an emblem of myself—Thoughtful and sad I bent my steps to my lonely home.


Printed by R. Gilbert, St. John's-squaro, London.

« PoprzedniaDalej »