The Rival Bubbles.
[Illustration: The Rival Bubbles]
Two bubbles on a mountain
stream,
Began their race
one shining morn,
And lighted by the ruddy beam,
Went dancing down
’mid shrub and thorn.
The stream was narrow, wild
and lone,
But gayly dashed
o’er mound and rock,
And brighter still the bubbles
shone,
As if they loved
the whirling shock.
Each leaf, and flower, and
sunny ray,
Was pictured on
them as they flew,
And o’er their bosoms
seemed to play
In lovelier forms
and colors new.
Thus on they went, and side
by side,
They kept in sad
and sunny weather,
And rough or smooth the flowing
tide,
They brightest
shone when close together.
Nor did they deem that they
could sever,
That clouds could
rise, or morning wane;
They loved, and thought that
love for ever
Would bind them
in its gentle chain.
But soon the mountain slope
was o’er,
And ’mid
new scenes the waters flowed,
And the two bubbles now no
more
With their first
morning beauty glowed.
They parted, and the sunny
ray
That from each
other’s love they borrowed;
That made their dancing bosoms
gay,
While other bubbles
round them sorrowed:
That ray was dimmed, and on
the wind
A shadow came,
as if from Heaven;
Yet on they flew, and sought
to find
From strife, the
bliss that love had given.
They parted, yet in sight
they kept,
And rivals now
the friends became,
And if, perchance, the eddies
swept
Them close, they
flashed with flame.
And fiercer forward seemed
to bound,
With the swift
ripples toward the main;
And all the lesser bubbles
round,
Each sought to
gather in its train.
They strove, and in that eager
strife
Their morning
friendship was forgot,
And all the joys that sweeten
life,
The rival bubbles
knew them not.
The leaves, the flowers, the
grassy shore,
Were all neglected
in the chase,
And on their bosoms now no
more
These forms of
beauty found a place.
But all was dim and drear
within,
And envy dwelt
where love was known,
And images of fear and sin
Were traced, where
truth and pleasure shone.
The clouds grew dark, the
tide swelled high,
And gloom was
o’er the waters flung,
But riding on the billows,
nigh
Each other now
the bubbles swung.
Closer and closer still they
rushed,
In anger o’er
the rolling river;
They met, and ’mid the
waters crushed,
The rival bubbles
burst for ever!
Good Night.
The sun has sunk behind the hills,
The shadows o’er the landscape creep;
A drowsy sound the woodland fills,
And nature folds her arms to sleep:
Good night—good night.