---

SERENADE.

                I.
Enchantress, at thy casement be, -
   Starry fires now gleam,
And Cynthia, Queen of Night, above,
   Emits a silver stream
Loved Imogene respond to me !
   Stars bear no rays as bright
As thine own orbs-a sapphire sea-
   That tints with light the ebon night:
Arise and shed thy rays o'er me !

                II.
Enchantress, at thy casement be,
   Eve's carolist is nigh,
And from his bower in yonder grove
   Comes rapture laden sigh
Loved Imogene respond to me!
   Unmusical is song of bird
Compared with thy sweet melodie -
   Soft passions stirred in every word
Arise, and hymn sweet airs to me !

                III.
Enchantress, at thy casement be,
   Behold the lattice move !
(Were Cupid's pinions in my power,
   How swift I'd soar above!)
Observe ! Imogene approaches me !
   Dim are the fires in spheres afar,
Unhonoured Philomel's night glee,
   More dear by far than bird or star,
Imogene's soft grace enslaveth me!

---

LAMENT OF A MOTHER

ON THE DEATH OF HER SON,
A YOUNG CHORISTER OF HOLY TRINITY CHURCH.

O Willie ; when thou left this earthly scene,
   So young ; yet bright were all thy early deeds;
Thy mother's care on thee had constant been
To share thy smiles and soothe thy tears between,
   And tend thy illness in its many varied needs.

Remembrance now recalls with burning tears -
   When in that sacred pile upraised to Him
Thy voice was raised-though yet of tender years-
In His devoted choir;-the tones still haunt my ears,
   As if far angels sang a low receding hymn.

I hear yon organ with its slow and solemn peal,
   Those anthems play thou once in rapture heard,
When all in reverence praise their God, and kneel ;
Then do thy mother's thoughts to thee in cadence steal,
   And for thy safety breathe a fervent loving word.

Short thou a pilgrim saw this troubled earth ;
   Thy Master willed thy spirit be released,
Hence to His mansion and immortal birth,
Where all may meet who seek with righteous worth
   So may I meet thee, Willie, when my life has ceased.

---

JENNIE GRAY.

Oh, Jennie, I have roamed the vale
   In search of nature's wildest grace,
And sought within the woodland's pale
   The lowliest gems of Flora's race ;
A nosegay I have culled for thee-
   All gathered in the morning grey,
An offering from the smiling lea-
   To deck the brow of Jennie Gray.

My gift bears not the taint of pride,
   Intrudes not into fashion's halls,
Content it climbed the valley's side--
   Where modest duty never palls;
Thus do I know my gems thou'lt prize-
   All gathered in the morning grey,
For modesty is all that lies
   Within the heart of Jennie Gray.

---

FAREWELL THE BARQUE.

Farewell the barque that bears away
   My sailor, bold and brave,
Unto a clime far, far away-
   He ploughs the briny wave ;
He never may return again,
   His own true love to see,
Yet, while he rides the stormy main,
   He'll still remember me.

Farewell the barque whose swelling sail
   Leaves me a burning tear-
The thought, that oh ! a treacherous gale
   Might steal away my dear ;
Yet, if the waves should drown my love,
   Far underneath the sea-
My sailor's soul would rise above,
   And still remember me.

Poems by Thomas Jefferson Monkman (1885)
Scanned by Graham Metcalf ©2003
OCRd and checked by Colin Hinson ©2003