« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
Why heed they not the roses ?
Why list they not the birds? Why, as the maid reposes,
Do naught but honied words Attract her soft attention,
Bedew her eyes with tears, As, through the veiled future,
She thinks on coming years?
A fuller, sweeter music
Falls gently on her ears, Her heart beats quick with gladness,
As love's own voice she hears, To think what deep affection
Will henceforth be her own; What passionate devotion
Is breathed in each low tone!
No passing doubt, no shadow
Falls on her trusting heart ; He has vow'd to love her only,
Till life itself depart; And timidly, yet fondly,
She meets his speaking gaze :Oh ! colour'd like the rainbow,
Were those enamour'd days.
Again, it is an evening
For promises of love; Again, the azure heavens
Smile cloudlessly above; 'Mid their blue depths the sky-lark
Sings blithely, as of yore, And the rose's graceful beauty
Is fragrant as before.
Again, the sun-light's brightness
Grows dim on wood and stream, And the flush of summer-glory
Fades like a parting dream ; Again, the dewy moisture
Each drooping flower-cup fills, And the richest breath of fragrance
From jasmine-stars distils.
Look up, then, tearful maiden!
Time's years are flitting fast,
Will soon be overpast.
Look cheerfully above ;
A changeless life of love.
HIGH-STRE E T, BELFAST.
Few counties offer to the tourist in Ireland so many objects of interest as he may find in the county of Antrim. The two natural curiosities, par excellence, which distinguish this generally fertile district, are the magnificent Lough Neagh, with its petrifying waters ; a sheet of water, which, with the exception of the lakes of Ladoga, Onega, and Geneva, is the largest in Europe; and the widely-celebrated Giant's Causeway, with its marvellous basaltic pillars, to be reckoned by hundreds of thousands.
With “The Giant's Causeway,” however, Belfast has no immediate connection; but over the beauty of Lough Neagh, which has, in fact, been rendered, by commercial skill and enterprise, subservient to the prosperity of that thriving sea-port, we may be permitted to linger for a moment :
“ The Lake its holiday-attire has on ;
Repose and pleasantness its bosom share ;
“ From countless kelp-kilns, shining round the shore,
Abroad in the clear void the smoke-wreaths soar ;