My Birth-Day

STRANGE feelings wildly throng around my heartOn this my natal day. They seem to comeLike mournful spirits from the distant past,And from the dim, sad future. Down, far downInto my soul I gaze, and memory,The wizard, that bears sway in that lone realm,Calls perished joys and hopes from out their graves,And bids them glow, and live, and breathe, and ISeem once again a happy child amidThe scenes of other days, with long-lost friendsClasping my hand, or sitting at my side,And murmuring in my ear their gentle tonesOf melody and love.

My natal day!In other, happier years, I used to hailIts advent with a thrill of joy and prideFor then I deemed it but an added linkTo a young life that would for ever wearThe lovely rose-tints of the morning heavensThat hung serene and beautiful above,Unbroken by a storm-cloud; but to-dayA sigh, a tear, is in my soul to thinkWave after wave of my existence thusBreaks on the shore of old Eternity,And sinks to silence and to nothingness.Here in my spirit's awful solitudeI muse upon the thousand hopes that rushedImpatient to life's banquet, and expiredIn tasting of the poison-cup they thoughtA boon the gods might crave.

My birth-day! YearsHave flown and left me a lone mourner. OneBy one I've seen the deeply, dearly loved,The friends and guardians of my childhood, fadeAnd wither like the leaves when Autumn setsHis many tinted signet on the woods.Yet I, whose life in this drear month began,Still linger darkly, sadly here to weepFor vanished stars and lovely blighted flowersThat shed upon my life, in brighter years,Their lustre and their perfume. But with hopesAll crushed, and eyes bathed in the heart's best dew,I lift my gaze above the earth, and readUpon the far sky's blue and starry scroll,A beautiful and holy promise. GodWatches and shields the lonely orphan here;Ay, He who kindly tempers the cold windTo the shorn lamb, will temper life's fierce stormsTo her who calls upon His sacred nameIn deep and fervent prayer.

My natal day!'Tis slowly melting in the twilight now,And soon its tints along the western skyThat seem a rose-wreath on the brow of death,Will pass away. My natal day, farewell!Oh may'st thou, if thy light shall ever comeTo me again on earth, behold the hopes,That droop and fold within my lonely soulTheir broken pinions now, soar proudlyAnd revel, amid the glories of the sky.

Louisville Ky.