Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 58, Number 360, October 1845Various
Philosophy
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 58, Number 360, October 1845
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
Thy seasons, in their endless round
Of sunshine, tempest, calm or blight,
Yet leave thee like an empress crown'd
With jewels bright.
Thy very storms are life to thee,
'Tis but a sleep thy seeming death;
We see thee wake in flower and tree
At spring's soft breath.
We view the ruin of our youth,
Decay's wan trace on all we cherish;
But thou, in thine unfailing truth,
Canst never perish.
J.D.
ON THE OLD YEAR.
With mournful tone I hear thee say,
"Alas, another year hath sped!"
As if within that circlet lay
Life's garland dead.
Vain thought! Thy measure is not Time's;
Not thus yields life each glowing hue;
Fair fruit may fall--the tendril climbs,
And clasps anew.
Time hath mute landmarks of his own;
They are not such as man may raise;
Not his the rudely number'd stone
On life's broad ways.
The record measuring his speed
Is but a shadow softer spread--
A browner leaf--a broken reed,
Or mildew shed.
And if his footfall crush the flower,
How sweet the spicy perfume springs!
His mildew stain upon the tower
A glory brings.
Then let the murmuring voice be still,
The heart hold fast its treasure bright;
The hearth glows warm when sunbeams chill;
Life hath no night.
J.D.
CORALI.
Soft-brow'd, majestic Corali!
Thou like a memory serene
Seemest to me--or melody,
Or moonlight scene.
With thee life in soft plumage glides,
As on the ruffled lake the swan,
Whose downy breast the struggle hides
That speeds it on.
In thy fair presence wakes no care;
Harsh discords into music melt;
Thy harmony alone is there--
Alone is felt.
The heart, unsway'd by hope or dread,
Safe haven'd in a clime of balm,
Nor chain'd in ice, nor tempest-sped,
Lies rock'd in calm.
J.D.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF FRANK ABNEY HASTINGS.
"Man wrongs and time avenges, and my name
May form a monument not all obscure."
The success of the Greek insurrection against the Turks, is the event
in contemporary history concerning which it is most difficult to form
a precise and correct idea. Causes and effects seem, to the ordinary
observer, to be utterly disproportionate. Its progress set the
calculations of statesmen at defiance; and while congresses,
ambassadors, and protocols, were attempting to fetter it in one
direction, it generally advanced with increased speed in some other,
totally unexpected.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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