Something to give, to sing, to say,
Some modern tale, some ancient lay.
Then, while the long'd-for minutes last,-
Ah! minutes quickly overpast!1
Recording each expression free,
Of kind or careless courtesy,
Each friendly look, each softer tone,
As food for fancy when alone.
All this is o'er-but still, unseen,
Wilfrid may lurk in Eastwood green,2
To watch Matilda's wonted round,
While springs his heart at every sound.
She comes!-'tis but a passing sight,
Yet serves to cheat his weary night;
She comes not-He will wait the hour,
When her lamp lightens in the tower; $
'Tis something yet, if, as she past,
Her shade is o'er the lattice cast.
"What is my life, my hope?" he said;
"Alas! a transitory shade."
Thus wore his life, though reason strove
For mastery in vain with love,
Forcing upon his thoughts the sum
Of present woe and ills to come,
1 [The MS. has not this couplet.]
2 [MS." May Wilfrid haunt the Wilfrid haunts Scargill's
"watch the hour
That her lamp kindles in her tower."]
While still he turn'd impatient ear
From Truth's intrusive voice severe.
Gentle, indifferent, and subdued,
In all but this, unmov'd he view'd
Each outward change of ill and good:
But Wilfrid, docile, soft, and mild,
Was Fancy's spoil'd and wayward child;
In her bright1 car she bade him ride,
With one fair form to grace his side,
Or, in some wild and lone retreat,2
Flung her high spells around his seat,
Bathed in her dews his languid head,
Her fairy mantle o'er him spread,
For him her opiates gave to flow,
Which he who tastes can ne'er forego,
And placed him in her circle, free
From every stern reality,
Till, to the Visionary, seem
Her daydreams truth, and truth a dream.
Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains,
Winning from Reason's hand the reins,
1 [MS.-"Wild car."]
2 [MS." Or in some fair but lone retreat,
Flung her wild spells around his seat,
For him her opiates gave to
opiate draughts bade flow,
Which he who tastes can ne'er forego,
Taught him to turn impatient ear
From truth's intrusive voice severe."]
Pity and woe! for such a mind
Is soft, contemplative, and kind;
And woe to those who train such youth,
And spare to press the rights of truth,
The mind to strengthen and anneal,
While on the stithy glows the steel!
O teach him, while your lessons last,
To judge the present by the past;
Remind him of each wish pursued,
How rich it glow'd with promised good;
Remind him of each wish enjoy'd,
How soon his hopes possession cloy'd!
Tell him, we play unequal game,
Whene'er we shoot by Fancy's aim;
And, ere he strip him for her race,
Show the conditions of the chase.
Two sisters by the goal are set,
Cold Disappointment and Regret ;
One disenchants the winner's eyes,
And strips of all its worth the prize.
While one augments its gaudy show,
More to enhance the loser's woe.2
[In the MS., after this couplet, the following lines con lude the stanza:
"That all who on her visions press,
Find disappointment dog success;
But, miss'd their wish, lamenting hold
Her gilding false for sterling gold."]
2 ["Soft and smooth are Fancy's flowery ways.
And yet, even there, if left without a guide,
The young adventurer unsafely plays,'
The victor sees his fairy gold,
Transformed, when won, to drossy mold,
But still the vanquish'd mourns his loss,
And rues, as gold, that glittering dross.
More wouldst thou know-yon tower survey,
Yon couch unpress'd since parting day,
Yon untrimm'd lamp, whose yellow gleam
Is mingling with the cold moonbeam,
And yon thin form!-the hectic red
On his pale cheek unequal spread;1
Eyes, dazzled long by Fiction's gaudy rays, In modest Truth no light nor beauty find; And who, my child, would trust the meteor-blaze That soon must fail, and leave the wanderer blind, More dark and helpless far, than if it ne'er had shined?
"Fancy enervates, while it soothes, the heart,
And, while it dazzles, wounds the mental sight:
To joy each heightening charm it can impart,
But wraps the hour of woe in tenfold night.
And often, where no real ills affright,
Its visionary fiends, an endless train,
Assail with equal or superior might,
And through the throbbing heart, and dizzy brain,
And shivering nerves, shoot stings of more than mortal pain."
1 [MS." On his pale cheek in crimson glow;
The short and painful sighs that show
The shrivell'd lip, the teeth's white row,
The head reclined," &c.]
The head reclined, the loosen'd hair,
The limbs relax'd, the mournful air.-
See, he looks up ;-a woful smile
Lightens his wo-worn cheek awhile,-
'Tis Fancy wakes some idle thought,
To gild the ruin she has wrought;
For, like the bat of Indian brakes,
Her pinions fan the wound she makes,
And soothing thus the dreamer's pain,
She drinks his lifeblood from the vein.'
Now to the lattice turn his eyes,
Vain hope to see the sun arise.
The moon with clouds is still o'ercast,
Still howls by fits the stormy blast;
Another hour must wear away,
Ere the East kindle into day,
And hark! to waste that weary hour,
He tries the minstrel's magic power.
Hail to thy cold and clouded beam,
Pale pilgrim of the troubled sky!
Hail, though the mists that o'er thee stream
Drinks his dear lifeblood from the vein."]
2 ["The little poem that follows is, in our judgment, one of the best of Mr. Scott's attempts in this kind. He certainly is not in general successful as a song-writer; but
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