Morning Star

POETRY.

FOR THE MORNING STAR.

THE MANIAC.

Behold at morn the pow'rful king of day,
In cloudless splendor from yon hill arise!
Perhaps ere one calm hour has past away,
The gath'ring storm obscures the orient skies:
And black'ning clouds before the tempest fly,
That shroud the earth in all the gloom of ev'n:
Hoarse thunders to the tempest's voice reply,
That shake the earth, and rend the vault of heav'n:
Tall forests bend and temples in its course are riv'n.
The rainbow painted on the wat'ry cloud,
Breaks by the waters that compose its shades:
The vivid lightning all its glory shrouds;
And even while we gaze its colors fade,
And not a trace is left to mark the ray,
That for a moment deck'd the glowing sky;
Fled like the sunbeam when the ev'ning gray,
Spreads o'er the earth her robe, and day's last sigh
Whispers the brightest tints, like me, must fade and die.
I saw a lovely rose at early dawn,
The pride and envied glory of the plain;
But soon, too soon, 'twas blasted by the storm,
And not a vestige of its charms remained;
The stalk was broken by the pelting rain,
The envious blast had bleach'd its roseate hue,
The leaves were scatter'd by the passing wind,
No kindred flow'r remain'd to sigh adieu,
Or mark the spot where once the lovely flow'ret grew.
The cloudless sun will doubtless rise again;
The promis'd rainbow will ere long appear;
And spring revive the flow'rets of the plain,
Tho' crush'd beneath the blast of autumn drear:
But ah, who can behold without a tear,
The form that genius once and sense combin'd;
Or view unmov'd the noble fabric where
Thought once was utter'd in a strain sublime;
But now the shatter'd ruins of a noble mind?
That mind that once on lofty pinions soar'd:
And left the trifling thing of earth behind.
Great Nature's volume in her flight explor'd,
Deck'd with the wreath the Muses had entwin'd
But ah, too fine the texture of that mind,
It sank beneath the weight of "learned lore,"
A victim at the consecrated shrine,
Where oft in transport it had knelt before,
As the brave hero falls beneath the arms he bore.
Reason obstructed long hath ceas'd to flow,
And chill'd the genial current of the soul;
Those eyes that oft have wept for other's wo,
Now in a vague unmeaning wildness roll;
May he whose pow'r the billowy deep controls,
Thy guardian still in all thy wand'rings be,
He knows thy wants, to mortal ear untold;
He knows thy ev'ry pain, poor maniac, may he
Restore thee to thyself; I ask no more for thee.

ELLEN.