Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/163

1830-40.] WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER. 147 The moon looks o'er the hill, And the vale grows softly light ; And the cock, with greeting shrill, Wakes the echoes of the night. But the moon — he knoweth well Its old familiar face; And the cock — it doth but tell, Poor fool ! its resting-place. And as still as the spirit of Death On the air his pinions play; There's not the noise of a breath, As he grapples with his prey. Oh, the shadowy night for him ! It bringeth him fare and glee ; And what cares he how dim For the eagle it may be ? It clothes him from the cold, It keeps his larders full, And he loves the darkness old, To the eagle all so dull. But the dawn is in the east — And the shadows disappear ; And at once his timid breast Feels the presence of a fear. He resists ; — ^but all in vain ! The clear Light is not fir him ; So he hastens back again To the forest old and dim. Through his head strange fancies run ; For he cannot comprehend Why the moon, and then the sun, Up the heavens should ascend, — When the old and quiet Night, With its shadows dark and deep, And the half-revealing light Of its stars, he'd ever keep. And he hooteth loud and long: — But the eagle greets the Day, And on pinions bold and strong, Like a roused thought, sweeps away ! EADICALOS. In the far and fading ages Of the younger days of earth, When man's aspirations quicken'd. And his passions had their birth — When first paled his glorious beauty, And his heart first knew unrest, As he yielded to the tempter That inflamed and fill'd his breast — When the Voice that was in Eden Echoed through his startled soul, And he heard rebuking anthems Through the heavenly arches roll — When he fell from the high promise Of his being's blessed morn, To a night of doubt and struggle — Radicalos then was born. Through the ages long and di'eary That since then have dawn'd on earth, Man has had but feeble glimpses Of the glory of his birth: Catching these, his soul, aspiring To its morning light again. Hard has upward toil'd, and often Fill'd with hope, but still in vain. Many a blessed song comes stealing Downward from the Eden aisles, Whence the light of heavenliest beauty Still upon the banish'd smiles ; But the harmonies are broken Of each sounding choral hymn, And the gloom that vails his spirit Makes e'en heavenly splendor dim. Faint revealings, thwarted hopings, Weaiying struggles, day by day: — So the long and dreary ages Of his life have worn away. War, and rapine, and oppression. Early in his course he found — Brother against brother striving — By the few the many bound. And in patience, and in meekness. To the galling chain resign'd.