« 前へ次へ »
45. Serenely thus the seasons pass away ; And, oh ! how rapidly they seem to fly With those for whom to-morrow like to-day Glides on in peaceful uniformity! Five years
have since Yeruti's birth gone by, Five happy years ;.. and ere the Moon which then Hung like a Sylphid's light canoe on high
Should fill its circle, Monnema again Laying her burthen down must bear a mother's pain.
Quiara went his way
His bow and useless arrows in the wood, Marks of a jaguar's feet, a broken spear, and blood.
A TALE OF PARAGUAY.
1. O thou who listening to the Poet's song Dost yield thy willing spirit to his sway, Look not that I should painfully prolong The sad narration of that fatal day With tragic details : all too true the lay! Nor is my purpose e'er to entertain The heart with useless grief ; but as I may,
Blend in my calm and meditative strain Consolatory thoughts, the balm for real pain.
2. O Youth or Maiden, whosoe'er thou art, Safe in my guidance may thy spirit be; I wound not wantonly the tender heart: And if sometimes a tear of sympathy Should rise, it will from bitterness be free ... Yea, with a healing virtue be endued, As thou in this true tale shalt hear from me
Of evils overcome, and grief subdued, And virtues springing up like flowers in solitude.
3. The unhappy Monnema when thus bereft Sunk not beneath the desolating blow. Widow'd she was : but still her child was left; For him must she sustain the weight of woe, Which else would in that hour have laid her low. Nor wish'd she now the work of death complete: Then only doth the soul of woman know
Its proper strength, when love and duty meet; Invincible the heart wherein they have their seat.
Its wants, but sinks beneath its sufferings dire ; Most miserable man who sees the rest expire !
And bear him from that dismal bank away,