In circles through the misty maze of chance;
The nations rise and sink in sepulchres,
Thy peoples perish in a common grave;
Progression dies, perfection errs,
Wrong rules the wood and wave.

O, weak and weary world,
Let thy ambition rest!
Long have defeat and gloomy ruin twirled
In dark embrace the purest and the best;
Destruction is thy portion, death thy part,
Ashes thy glory, and thy splendor dust;
Then ease the longings of thy breast;
Serve pleasures well; and trust!




EX ANIMA.


The gloomy hours of silence wake
Remembrance and her train,
And phantoms through the fancies chase
The mem'ries that remain;
And hidden in the dark embrace
Of days that now are gone,
I see a form, a fairy form,
And fancy hurries on!