10 HENKY KIllKE WHITE's POEMit. 



And lo ! his form transparent I perceive, 

 Born on the grey mist of the sullen eve : 

 He hovers near, clad in the nighfs dim roLe, 

 While deathly silence reigns upon the glubc. 



Yet ah ! whence comes this visionary scene ? 



'Tis fancy's wild aerial dream I ween ; 



By her inspired, whence reason takes its flight, 



What fond illusions beam upon the sight ! 



She waves her hand, and lo ! what forms appear ! 



What magic sounds salute the wondering ear ! 



Once more o'er distant regions do we tread, 



And the cold grave yields up its cherish'd dead ; 



While present sorrows banish'd far away, 



Unclouded azure gilds the placid day, 



Or in the future's cloud -encircled face, 



Fair scenes of bliss to come we fondly trace, 



And draw minutely every little wile, 



Which shall the feathery hours of time beguile. 



So, when forlorn and lonesome, at her gate. 



The Royal Mary solitary sate. 



And view'd the moonbeam trembling on the wave. 



And heard the hollow surge her prison lave, 



Towards France's distant coast she bent her sight, 



For there her soul had wing'd its longing flight ; 



There did she form full many a scheme of joy, 



Visions of bliss unclouded with alloy. 



Which bright through hope's deceitful optics beam'd, 



And all became the surety which it seem'd ; 



She wept, yet felt, while all within was calm, 



In every tear a melancholy charm. 



To yonder hill, whose sides, deform'd and steep, 

 Just yield a scanty sust'nance to the sheep, 

 With thee, my friend, I oftentimes have sped, 

 To see the sun rise from his healthy bed ; 

 To watch the aspect of the summer morn, 

 Smiling upon the golden fields of corn, 

 And taste, delighted, of superior joys, 



