Maria Gowen Brooks

Maria Gowen Brooks was an American poet known for her romantic and lyrical poetry. Born in 1794, she achieved fame with the publication of her major work, 'Zóphiël, or The Bride of Seven,' which captivated both American and British audiences. Brooks' poetry often explored themes of love, beauty, and spirituality, earning her a unique place in 19th-century American literature. She passed away in 1845, leaving behind a legacy celebrated by poets and literary critics alike.

January 1, 1794

November 11, 1845

English

Maria Gowen Brooks

On The Death Of A Lady.

Thy home seemed not of earth - so blest
    But there has fall'n a shaft of fate
The dove is stricken; and the nest
    She warmed and cheered is desolate.

But fairest not for thee, we mourn:
    Blest from thy birth, thou still art so
The tear must dew thine early urn
    For him whom thou hast taught to know

The zest of joys - complete, as knows
    Thy vital flame, the pang that tost
And changed thee past, where now it glows
    Knowing, yet feeling all is lost.

There is a flower of tender white
    And, on its spotless bosom, play
The moon's soft beams, one lovely night;
    But when appears the morning ray

'Tis shut and withered - even now
    Around your lime I see it wave; [FN#27]
'Tis pure, and fresh, and fair, as thou...

Maria Gowen Brooks

Zophiel. (Invocation)

Thou with the dark blue eye upturned to heaven,
And cheek now pale, now warm with radiant glow,
                    Daughter of God,--most dear,--
                    Come with thy quivering tear,
And tresses wild, and robes of loosened flow,--
To thy lone votaress let one look be given!

Come Poesy! nor like some just-formed maid,
With heart as yet unswoln by bliss or woe;--
                    But of such age be seen
                    As Egypt's glowing queen,
When her brave Roman learned to love her so
That death and loss of fame, were, by a smile, repaid.

Or as thy Sappho, when too fierce assailed
By stern ingratitude her tender breast:--
                    Her love by scorn repaid
                    Her friendship true betrayed,
Sick of the...

Maria Gowen Brooks

Zophiel. Ode

Thou who wert born of Psyche and of Love
And fondly nurst on Poesy's warm breast
                    Painting, oh, power adored!
                    My country's sons have poured
To thee their orisons; and thou hast blest
Their votive sighs, nor vainly have they strove.

Thou who art wont to soothe the varied pain
That ceaseless throbs at absent lover's heart,
                    Who first bestowed thine aid
                    On the young Rhodian maid [FN#19]
When doomed, from him whose love was life, to part,
From a lone bard accept an humble heartfelt strain.


[FN#19]    I do not positively recollect whether the incident, here described is supposed to have transpired at Rhodes, Corinth, or some other place, and have not, at present, the means for ascertaining....

Maria Gowen Brooks

Zophiel. Stanzas

To meet a friendship such as mine
Such feelings must thy heart refine
As seldom mortal mind gives birth,
'Tis love, without a stain of earth,
                                        Fratello del mio cor.

Tho' friendship be its earthly name
All pure, from highest heaven, it came
'Tis never felt for more than one,
And scorns to dwell with Venus' son
                                        Fratello del mio cor.

Him let it view not, or it flies
Like tender hues of morning-skies,
Or morn's sweet flower, of purple glow.
When sunny beams too ardent grow
                                        Fratello del mio cor.

It's food is looks, its nectar, sighs,
Its couch the lip, its throne the eyes
The soul its breath; and so posse...

Maria Gowen Brooks