Poems Grave And Gay

, with the breeze . . . Murmurs faint but fraught with music, hints of dreams and prophecies. Far below us, where the beetling cliff its dizzy depth sheered down, Art and Nature. 31 We could hear the song and laughter of the merry-making town, ? That the murmurs of the ocean and the wind were vain to drown ; And above the rocks there flaunted, now and then, a lurid light, As the harshly hissing rocket climbed along its fiery height, Piercing, with its savage splendor, the soft beauty of the night. Noise of drums and trumpets mingled with the cadence of the seas ; Bursts of wine-begotten laughter soiled the freshness of the breeze ; And the heavy tramp of soldiers shook the lofty linden-trees. There, upon a rustic sofa, where the moonlight whitely slept, And a rustic roof gave shelter from the dew that heaven wept, We sat down to break the silence that till then we both had kept. Florence said: " How grates this feasting, this wild noise of blatant mirth, On the holy peace that hovers o'er the ocean and the earth! Why should man's best sense of pleasure to such sights and sounds give birth ? Why not seek a calm expression for fulfilment of desire ? Must our triumphs and successes all be writ in words of fire,? Words that leave but bitter ashes when their fitful sparks expire ? " Thus it is with men . . . they trample on the dignity of man . . . With our purest joys have mingled, eve...