O, weak and weary world,
Why more attempt advance?
Long have thy forces in confusion whirled
In circles through the misty maze of chance;
The nations rise and sink in sepulchres,
Thy peoples perish in a common grave;
Progression dies, perfection errs,
Wrong rules the wood and wave.
O, weak and weary world,
Let thy ambition rest!
Long have defeat and gloomy ruin twirled
In dark embrace the purest and the best;
Destruction is thy portion, death thy part,
Ashes thy glory, and thy splendor dust;
Then ease the longings of thy breast;
Serve pleasures well; and trust!
EX ANIMA.
The gloomy hours of silence wake
Remembrance and her train,
And phantoms through the fancies chase
The mem'ries that remain;
And hidden in the dark embrace
Of days that now are gone,
I see a form, a fairy form,
And fancy hurries on!
I see the old familiar smile,
I hear the tender tone,
I greet the softness of the glance
That cheered me when alone;
The ruby chains of rich romance
That bound our bosoms o'er,
I still can know, I still can feel,
As they were felt before.
I name the vows, the fresh young vows,
That we together said;
What matters it? She can not know;
She slumbers with the dead!
Again the fields of fate I sow,
As she and I have sown;
I dream again the same old dreams,
But I am left alone!
The twining grasses verdant wreathe
Above her silent grave;
The rose and violet over all
Their purest blossoms wave;
Unbidden from their fountains fall
The tender tides of tears;
A sorrow winds among the days,
And chains the passing years.
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