A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

A BOOK OF ENGLISH POETRY.

• , .... " t..:

Coogk

A BOOK 

or 

ENGLISH POETRY; 

JOlL 

THE SCHOOL, THE FIRESIDE, AND 

THE COUNTRY RAMBLE. 

EDITED DY 

THOMAS SHORTER, 

r-KOUT.UT OJ' TJr10 WOIUC!lIDI'R COLLZGJ:; .I>ITOA Of 

H POEBY l"OR ICBOOI. AJUJ BOWL u 

Who II II that eror wu a ldlolar, that doth not CA"7 aw117 .ame ~•rsc• 

,.bleb In hi• routb IH!lMnle4, &114 enn to old ap ..,.,, him !Or bo1lrl7luaona! 

-Sm P.IID.D' Smnr. 

LONDON: 

T. J . .ALLMAN, 42, HOLBORN HILI,. 

;Fiz.

. ( 

-- 

6 ... AN ~J 

•' ' : -:-:--- _ - 

•'CO~OOD&L'a &JOD co., nlliTSU, LO!fll(;ll'. 

woa.u, Jrano•.

PREFACE. 

IT is hoped that the title-page of this work will sufficiently 

indicate ita general character, and render 

a lengthened preface unnecessary. The Editor trusts 

that while it may be found specially adapted for 

Sclwol8 1 as a Reading Book in EngliSh Poetry for the 

more advanced pupils, it may also be a welcome gnest 

in the family and social circle; in winter, a cosy friend 

when aitting otherwise lonely in the chimney-corner; 

and one with whom, in the more genial seaso!lll of the 

year, we may hold pleasant converse by the breezy · 

hill-side or on the sea-shore ; and thus be alike useful 

as a school-book, a presentation-volume, or a pocketcoJDpanion 

;-that it may in some degree deepen the 

love of Nature, give a pure and healthful stimulus to 

the Imagination and Fancy, minister to habits of 

elevated Reflection and Sentiment, strengthen thl'l 

Social and Domestic Affections, favour the love of 

rntiona.l Freedom, and the growth of true P11triotism, 

and through a.ll these lead the mind and heart onwa~ci 

and upw!l.l'd to Religion, which, pure and undefiled, is 

the perfect flower-the consummate and crowning 

excellence of human oharl\cter.

vi 

If this volume at all answers the purposes for which 

it is designed, it is mainly due to the kind co-operation 

of the Author:~ and Publishers who have permitted 

t.be insertion of the numerous copyright pieces in this 

collection ; aud to whom the thanks cf tho Eilitor and 

of his rendt!rll at·e due. While, however, borrowing 

largely from the works of living aud t•ocent Poet.~, their 

elder brethren have not been neglectecl; il being the 

Edikll''s object to present as many of the ue~t pBS

CONTENTS. 

Poem• of Nature 

p .ll\'1' I . 

P.uTn. 

Poems of Imagination and Fancy . 

PA.BT Ill. 

Poema of Reflection and Sentiment 

• 

PAB'I'IV. 

Poems or the Social and Domestic Afl'ection,a . 

P .ll\T v. 

l'oema of Freedom aud Patriotism . 

'• 14& 

195 

. 2Sll 

Poems of Beligio11 • 

PJ.MVJ, 

• ~79 

Par VU. 

PCltma of Character, and MitceiJilneoWI 

331 

401 

IXD&X or F1R8T LtNEI 

409

PART I 

POEMS OF NATURE. 

"XXI 1101'1> Yllll all: the Joye oUfotme'a 'II'01'b 

11 an ln....,.Uui Ill tile compoond, man, 

llll'llat

POEMS OF NATURE. 

lve llod.b iJ toa uw~ fritg nt. 

Tuz world ill too much with ua.; late and aoon. 

Getting IUld •pending, we lay waste our powers; 

LitUe we eee 111 nAture that Ia oura; 

We have given our hearts away, a eord\d boon! 

Thia Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; 

The winds that will be howling at lill houn, 

.And ara up-gatber'd now like eleeping ilowen ; 

For thil, for every thing, we are out of tune; 

U movea us not.-Great God I I'd rather be 

.A Pa,:ta.n auckled in a creed outworn ; 

So m1ght I, &tanding ou tbia pleaaa.nt lea, 

Have glimpaea that would make me leaa forloru ;· 

Have eight of Proteus coming from the ee&; 

Or bear old Tl'iton blow hill wreatbM born. 

Wotu>swoRTli. 

WJTB other ministrations thou, 0 Nature, 

Realest thy wandering and di.atemper'd child I 

Thou poureat on him thy aof\ iuftut>ncea, 

Thy sunny huea, fair forms, and breathing aweeta, 

'J:'hy melodies of woO(] a, and winds, and. watel'&; 

Till be relent, and can no more end11re 

To be a jarring and discordant thing 

.Amid this general dllllce and minatralsy; 

But, buratiog into tears, wins back hia way, 

Ria angry spirit heal'd and humanized 

By the benignant touch of love and bea.uty. 

OoLUtl>GL 

. "

~ot alone in Spring's armorial bearing, 

And in Summer's green-erubluon'J field, 

But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing, 

In the centre of hill bruen abield ; 

Not 11lone in meAdoWII and green alleY' 

On the moontain-top 1 

and hy tbe brink 

Of sequealer'd pools in woodla.nd va.lleya, 

Where the sll\vee of Nature stoop to drink; 

Not alone in her net dome of glory, 

No~ on graves of bird a.nd bea.at nlone, 

:But on old Cathedrals, high and hoary, 

On the tombs of heron, carved in atone; 

In the cottage of the rudeat peasant ; 

In anceelnu bomes, whose crumbling tower~~, 

Speaking or the Past unto the Preaent, 

Tell us of the aucient Gamea of Flowers ; 

In all places, then, and in all euaona, 

Flowera expa.nd their light and aoul-like wiogw, 

Tea.ching ns, by moat penun.eive rt'AIOIIS, 

How akin they are to human things. 

A.nd with child-li)(e credulous aft'ection 

We behold theil• tender buds expand; 

Emblems of our own great reeurrection, 

Emblema of the bright and better lAnd. 

LoNGnu.cnr. 

II 

TD milk-white bl0880ma of the thorn 

Are waving o'er the pool, 

Moved by the wind that breathee a.longe 

So sweetly and eo cool. 

The hawthorn clusters bloom above, 

The primrose hides below, 

And on the lonely paaeer-by 

A modest glance doth throw I

1'0DIJ!J OJ' 1JA1"1:111& 

!blUtbgi&ing !at llo&mt. 

0 FA'l!B..ER I Lord I 

The All-beneficent I I bleilll thy name, 

That thou hut mantJed the green earth with flowelllt 

Linking our hearta to wt.ture I By the love 

Of their wild bloaaoms, our young footstep& ftnt 

Into her deep receaaes are beguiled- 

Her minster cella--dark glen and forest bowel', 

Where, thrilling with its earliest eense of thee, 

Amidst the low, Teligious whisperings, 

The shivery leaf aounda o! the eolitnne, 

The epirit wakes to worship, and is made 

Thy living temple. By the breath of :flowers, 

Thou callest us, from city throngs and c.'\res, 

Back to the woods, the birds, the mountain-streams, 

That sing of thee ! back to free childhood's heart, 

Fresh with the deW~~ of tenderness I Thou bidd'st 

The lilies of the field with placid smile 

Reprove man's feverish st.:rlvings, and infu• 

Through his worn soul a more unworldly life, 

With their soft, holy breath. Thou hast not let\ 

Ria purer nAture, with ite tine desires, 

Uncared for in thia univene ofthine I 

The glowing roae attests it, the beloved 

Of poet-hearts, tonch'd by their fenen~ ~ 

Witb epiritunllight, and made a source 

Of ht>aven-a.scending thoughts. E'en to faint age 

Thou lend'at the vernal bliss : the old man's eye 

Falls on the kindling blossoms, and his soul 

Remembers youth and love, and hopefully 

Turna unto thee, who call'at earth's buried germs 

From dust to splendour ; a.s the mortal seed 

Shall, at thy aummons, from the grave spring up 

To put on glory, to be girt with power, 

And filled with immortality; Receive · 

Thanks, bleasinr., love, for these, thy lavish boons, 

And, most of al , their heavenward infiuen(lfa, 

0 thou that gaveat us flowers I

POJDOOFJr~ 7 

fcnn foictlu. Jip•, 0 .flcfuml an Ji&ing faat~m. 

Yo~m voiceleaalipe, 0 Flowe1'111 are lhingpreaeben, 

Each c:up a pufpit, and ee.cb lear A book; 

Supply to my fAncy numerous teacher., 

From lonelle~~t nook. 

lo the lweet.-.cented pictures, Heavenly Artist I 

With which thou paintest Nature's vid~·epread hall, 

Whs~ a delightfulle11110n thou impartest 

or love to alii 

Epbememl sages I what instruoton hoa.ry, 

For such a. world of thought could furniAh scope, 

Each fl\ding elllyx a fn811Wnlo mori, 

Yet loant of hope I 

Posthumous glories I II.Jigel-like oolleetion I 

U pmised from seed or bulb interr'd in earth, 

Ye a.re to me a type of resurrection, 

And second birth I 

Were 1, 0 God! in eburcblesa Janda remaining, 

Far from all voice of ~eacbera or divines, 

ldy aoul would find In 11ow-era of thy ordaining, 

Friesta, eermons, e.hri.nea ! 

HonA.o& SJfiTR, 

4Wnm. 

Ys valleys low, wheN the mild whiepere 11M 

or shades, and wanton winds, and gnsbing brooke, 

On -whose flub lap the swart star sparely loob, 

Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd e1ea. 

That on the green turf euck tlae bonied ahowerv, 

.And purple llill the ground with vernal Bowen. 

Bring \he rathe primroae that. foreaken di.ea 1 

The tuft.ed crow-toe, and pale jeaamine, 

The white pink, aDd the panay freak'd with jet. 

The glowing violet. 

Tbe muak-1'0118, and the well-attired woodblaet 

With coW!IIips wan that ba.ng the pensive be&CJ 1 

And every flower that ead embroidery wean 1 

Bid amaranthua all his beauty ebed, 

And dalfudilliea fill their cupe with teal'~, 

To anew the laureat hearn wher. Lycid Uet&. 

; ~.

8 

t~t .lmJiti&.c flut 

A Sostnvz Plant in a IZIU'den gre1r, 

And the young winds feil it with eilnr de1f, 

And it open'd ite fan-like lean• to the li~t, 

And cloeed them beneath the kiNel of night. 

And the Spring arose on the garden fair, 

Like the Spirit of Love felt every where ; 

ADd each !lower and herb on Earth'• dark breut 

Rote from the drea.ma of ite wintry reat. 

But none ever tt-embled and panted lfilh bU.. 

In the garden, tbe field, or the wilderneu, 

Like a doe in the noontide lfitb lon'e e1reet 1faJlt, 

Ju the eompanionleae Senaitive PlAnt. 

The enow-drop, and then the violet, 

Arose from the ground with w!Lrm rain 1ret, 

And their breath wu mix'd with !rub odour, eent 

From the tu~ like the voice and the inetrument. 

Then the pied wind-fiowera and the tul_lp tall, 

.And uarciaa~ the fairest among them aU, 

Who gllze on their eyes in the stream'• receu, 

Till they die of their own dear lovelineaa; 

And the Naiad-like lily ofthe vale, 

Whom youth makee ao fair 1 

nnd paaeion 10 pale, 

That the light of it.tl tremwoue bella ia seen 

Through their pavilione of tender green; 

And the by11einth P.urple, and white, and blue, 

Which flung from ttl bella a aweet peal &new 

Of music, eo del.icate 1 sot\, and intenee, 

It wu felt like an odour within the eeDH; 

.And the roee lik& a nymph to the bath add rest, 

Which unveil'tl the depth of her glowing breut. 

Till, fold aner fold, to the f'Aintillg Air 

The soul of her beauty and love lay bare; 

And the w&nd-like lily, which liil.ed up, 

Ae a Ma~oad , ita moonlight-coloured cup, 

Till the lie17 1tar 1 which ia ite eye, 

Gued through cle&r de• on the tender ak71

And the jeaaa.mina faint, ant.l the aweet tuber-a.e, 

The sweetest flower for scent that blows ; 

And all rare blo88oms from every clime 

Grew in that garden in perfect prime. 

And on the ah·eam, whose inconataot botom 

Wa.s prankt under bougha of emboweri.Dg bl0110m, 

With golden and gree'!lligbt slanting through 

Their heaven of lllAny a tangled hue, 

Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, 

And etarry river-buds glimmer'd. by, 

And around them the so~ stream did glide and dance 

With a motion of sweet BOund and radiance. 

And the ainuous paths of la\IVD and of moea 1 

Which led through the garden along and acrou, 

Some open at once to the sun and the breeze, 

Some loet among bowen of bl068oming tree-, 

Were all paved with daisies and delicate bella 

Aa fair aa the fabuloua a.sphodelai ; 

And ftowereta which, drooping aa d11y droop'd too, 

FeU into pavilions, white, pnrple, and blue, 

To roof the glow-worm from the evenillg dew. 

SllKLLXY. 

9 

~aiJir1. 

TBl!S:& ftow'r~e white and red, 

Bach that men callen Daiaiea in our town ; 

To them have I ao great affection, 

A• 1 ao.id erat, wben comen is the May, 

That in my bed there dawetb me no day 

That I n'am up and walking in the111ead 

To see this ftow'r against the aonu6 spread, 

When it upriseth early by the morrow; 

That bli88ful sight eoneneth all my sorrow 1 

So glad nm.l when that I have pree6nce 

Of it, to doen it all r6verence. 

CJu.vcu.

10 

lo a ~ait!l, 

on tutnhtg on.e bo&m &ri1k t~e 'Laagw. 

Wu, modest, crimiiOn4iP,ped flow'r, 

Thou'at met me in an evil hour; 

F or I mtlun crush amang the etour-e 

Thy slender etem ; 

To 11pa.re thee now is p11at my po•'r, 

Thou bonnie gem. 

Alns I it's no thy neebor sweet, 

The bonnie lark, comp&nion meet I 

Bendi11g thee 'mans. the dewy weet 

w,· spreckled breast, 

When upwA.rd-t~pringmg, blithe, to gnet 

The purpling eaat. 

Cauld blew the bitter-biting north 

Upon thy early, humble birth; 

Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth 

Amid the atorm ; 

Scarce rear'tl above the p!U'ent earth 

Thy tender form. 

The Bunting flowers our prdena yield, 

High ahelt'ring woods and wa'a maun ahield 1 

But thou, beneath the random bield 

0 ' clod or atane 1 

Adorns the histie stibble-f!eld, 

Unseen, alane. 

There, ill thy scanty mantle clad, 

Thy aoawy bosom sunward 11pread, 

Thou lift.a thy unassuming beAd 

In humble guiee; 

Bnt now the share upta&ra thy bed, 

And low thou lies I Bmurs. 

ltkt IRinb·fiDfDrr. 

LoDGED iu sunny clef\ 

WBDa the cold breeua come noC, blooms alosre 

The little ....Wd-tlower, whoee juet-open'd eye 

la blue u the •{Iring heaoren it guee at, 

Startling the lo1terer in the D.Aked grona 

With UDexpecteci beauty, fur the time 

Of blo110m11 and grMD 18a'fel iiTt' a..faz. 

BuA.lfT. 

"

POitX8 OJ' • A 'I'U1I.L . · 

'"~'ut~~·· 

BLUB Eyebright I loveliest ftower or &11 that grow 

In tlower-loved England ! Flower, whote bedge-.ide gaze 

Is like an infant's I What heart doth not know 

Thee, cluater'd amiler or the bank I where playw 

The sunbeam with the emer&ld enake, and etra)'l 

The dazzling rill, c(llilpanion of the road 

Which the lone bard m011t lonth, in the d11yw 

When hope and love Me young 1 0 rome abroad, 

13lue Eyebright I and this rill shall woo thee with an ode. 

Awake, blue Eyebright, while the singing wave 

Ita cold, bright, beauteous., soothing tribute drops 

From many a grey rook's foot and dripping cave; 

While yonder, lo, the starting atone-chat bops r 

While here the cottar's cow ita sweet food crops; 

While blackfaced ewes 11nd Jambs are bleating there : 

And, bursting through the briers, the wild 111!11 stops 

Kicks at the strangeN-then turns round to stAre 

Then lowel'll hie large red e&n~, and llha.kea hia long darlt 

hair, 

Eu.Ion'. 

r.a ll .itto!Dbto;. 

LONB Flower l hemm'd in with snows aa white aa they, 

But hardier fAr, once more I aee thee bend 

Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend, 

Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day, 

Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, wa.y-la.y 

The rising sun, and on the plaina descend ; 

Yet art thou weloome, welcome u a friend 

Whose zeal outru.ne hie promise ! BJ.u~yed Hay 

Shall soon behold thia bOrder t.hiekly aet 

With bright jonquils, 'heit' odonra laviahiag 

On the soft weat-wtnd and h18 f'tolie peem; 

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget, 

Chaste Snowdrop, venturoUI bubinrer of Spring, 

And pensive monilOI' of Aeeting y6U'l I 

W OJWSWORTlf,

l'O.Itll.8 OJ' 'lrATUJUl. 

Ia igt Jmall «:uanmu.* 

PustES, lilies, kingcupe, daisies, 

Le~ them live upon their praiaea; 

Long 1111 there's a sun that eeta, 

Prlmroeea will have their glory ; 

Lo11g aa there are violets, 

They will bave a place in story: 

There's n Bower that shall be m.in.e, 

'Tis the little celAndine. 

Ere A leaf is on A bush, 

In the time before the thrash 

Has a thought about her nest, 

Tho11 wilt come with half a call, 

Spreading out thy glossy breast 

Like a cat·eless prodigal; 

Telling tales about the sun, 

When we've little warmth, or none. 

Comfort have thou of thy merit, 

Kindly, unassuming Spirit I 

Carelel!B of thy neighbourhood, 

Thou dost show thy pleaso.nt face 

On the moor, and tn the wood, 

In the la.ne ;-there's not a place, 

Howsoever mean it be, 

But 'tia good enough for thee. 

W OB.DBWO&TJt, 

l>n fh-e !l'igbf-bla.oming «:mna. 

As the fair 1lower which shuns the @Olden day, 

And blooms amidst the shades of silent night, 

Spreads her pale petals to the lunar ray, 

.A.nd hAilB with balmy breath the ail ver light; 

So virtue ehtlll8 the world's applause a11d gnze, 

In secret abed• her balmy aweete abro11d, 

Nor seeks the voice of fame, nor glory's bl11ze, 

But blooms and hl081oms to the praise of God I 

LADY FLOBA HA.sruras. 

• Common 1'11811W&.

l'Oli:KB 01' lfATtnl& 

13 

ta tqt tfringlb tl.tldi~m. 

Ta ou blossom bright with autumn dew, 

And colour'd with the heaven's own blue, 

That openest when the quiet light 

Suc:ceeda the keen and frosty night. 

Thou comeat not when violet& lean 

O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, 

Or columbines, in purple dreea'd, 

Nod o'er the ground-bird'a hidden neat. 

Thou walteat late, and eom'at alone, 

Wben woods are bare and birds are tlown, 

And froeta and shortening days portend 

The aged year is near hie end. 

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye 

Look through its fringes to the sky 1 

Blue-blue-as if that sky let fall 

A flower from ita cerulean wall. 

·I would that thus, when I shall see 

The hour of death draw near to me, 

Hope, bloMoming within the heart, 

MAy look to heaven aa I depart. 

Baun. 

D AFJI'O'OU.S, 

That come before the swallow dares, and take 

The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, 

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyee, 

Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, 

That die unmarried, ere they can behold 

Bright Pbcebus in hie etrenjlth, a malady 

Mo,st incident to maida; bo[d oxlipa, and 

The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinde, 

The tloweN!e-luce being one I 

SBAJC!8!'1:.l tu:o

~~ Ji.Uu gf tkt ,ur.o. 

FLoWBRS! when the Sa.viour'a calm benignant eye. 

Fell on your gentle beauty- when Crom you 

That heavenly lesson for all heart.B he drew, 

Etern.al, universal, aa the aky- 

Then, in the bosom ot your purity, 

A voioe he aet. aa in a temple-elui.ne, 

That life's quick travellers ne'er might paaa yoll by 

Unwir.m'd of that sweet oracle divine. 

And though too oft. ita low, ei!leatial sound 

By the h&l8h notes of work-day Oare ia drown'd, 

And the loud at.epe of vain, u:aliatening Hute : · 

Yet the great ooeao kath no tone of power 

Mightier to reaoh ths eon! in thongb\'a hn.ah'd hoor, 

Than your's, ye lilies 1-ahc:.en t.hua and graced I 

MBa. .ffiuuJ~"S , 

Ita ~alfahlla. 

FAll!. Da11'odils, we weep to eee 

You h.&.ate away ao BOOn; 

As yet the earlr rising aun 

Has not attatn'd hi• noon. 

Stay, stay, 

Until the hasting da.y 

Haarun 

But to the even-aong ; 

.And. having pray'd together, 

W' e wUl go with you along. 

We have short time to stay aa you, 

We have as abort a spring; 

Ae quick a growth to meet decay 

.A. yoo or any thing. 

We die 

A• yaur hooJ"B do, and dry 

Away, 

Like to tbe .!lllnnnel''a t'lloin ; 

Or aa the pearls of morning dew, 

Ne'er to be found again. 

ll&tUUOK,

16 

lit ~af.obU.. 

1 I wJ..lrou.'D lonely ae a eloud 

That floats on high o'er valea and billa, 

When all at onoe I aaw a crowd, 

A. boat of golden dAtfodila ; 

Beside the lake, beneath the tree.a 

~uttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous aa the stars that abine 

And twinlde on the milky-way, 

They stret~bed io never-endl.ng line 

Along the margin of a bay ; 

Ten thousand aaw I at a glance 

TOlling their hes.da in sprightly diUlce. 

The waves beside them dan.ced ; but they 

Outdid t.he sparkling waves in glee : 

A poet could noi but be gay 

In auch a jocund company l 

I gazed-And ga.zed-but little thought 

What wealth the show to me bad brought;: 

For oft, when on my ooucb I lie 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 

They fiaab upon that inward eye 

Which ia the bliss of' solitude ; 

And t.ben my heart with pleaaure filla, 

And dances with the daffodila. 

WollDSWoam. 

'" ijt !)lut ~lllDIU . 

FLowEn! the laurel still may abed 

Brightness round the victor's bead i 

And the roae 1 

in beauty's hair, 

Still its festal glory wear ; 

And the willow-leave& droop o'er 

Brows which love sustains no more : 

But by living rnya refined, 

Thou, the trembler of the wind,

18 

Thou, the spi.rituA1 flower, 

Sentient of each breeze and shower, 

Thou, rejoicing in t.he akiea, 

And t.ranapieroed with all their dyee ; 

:Breathing vase, with light o'ertlowing, 

Gem-like to thy centre glowing, 

Thou, the poet's type abalt be, 

Flower of eoul, Anemone I MBa. Hmu..n. 

irus. 

1. 

No tree io all the grove but has ita cb&rma, 

Thoqgh each i~ hue peculiar ; .P~er eome 1 

And of a wa.n01sb grey ; the willow such, 

And poplar, that with silver linea his lea.f; 

And a.sh, far etretchiog his umbrageous arm. 

or deeper green the elm, and deeper still, 

J .ord of the woods, the long·aurvi ving oak. 

Some gloaay-leaved, a.ud shining in the aun; 

The maple and the beech, of oily nuta 

Prolific ; and the lime, at dewy eve 

Diffusing odours; nor unnoted pM8 

The sycamore, capl'iciona in a~tirs, 

Now green, now tawny, and, ere autumn yet 

Have changed the wooda, in aearlet hoooura bright. 

Conn. 

n. 

A.lro forth they pa.88, with pleaanre fol"Wl\t'd led, 

Joying to hear tho sweet birds' harmony, 

Which, therein ahronded from the tempest dread, 

Seem'd in their song to scorn the crueleky; 

Much can they praise, the trees eo straight and high, 

The sailing pine, the cedar proud 4Ild tall, 

The vine-prop ellll, thfl poplar never dry, 

The builder oak, aole king of forests all; 

The a~~pen, goorl for sta vee, the eyprese, fuueral. 

Tb11 laurel, mted of mighty conquerors, 

And poet.! sage; the fir, that weepeth atUl ; 

The willow, worn of forlorn paramours ;

PODS OJ' JU.TUA&. 

The yew obedient to the bender'• will ; 

The birch for aha&, the eallow for the miU ; 

The warlike beech, the aah for nothing ill, 

The fruitful olive, and the platane round,. 

The carver holm, the maple, eeldom inwArd eoUDd. 

SPDSD. 

17 

.... 

m. 

TBDB, gracious treea !-bow rich a gift. ye are ! 

CroWll of the earth to bu!IWl heATbiiUld eyeel 

How doth the thought of home in lands afar, 

Link'd with yonr forma, and kindly whiaperinga rise I 

How the whole picture of a childhood lies, · 

Oft midst your boughs forgotten, buried deep I 

Till, gazin~ through them up tho summer akiea, 

A.a buah d we etand, t. breeze pereb.,nce may creep, 

And old, aweet leaf~unde reach the inner world 

Where memory coila-&nd lo ! at "nee unfurl'd 

Tho past, a glowing scroll, before our sight 

Spreo.ds clear ; while, gushing from their long-aeal'd uro, 

Young thoughts, pure dreama, undoubting prayers 1'6llll1l, 

.Aud a 10/lt mother's eye givea back its lioly ~~=AN 

MBa. 8. 

falrtba.rb ~louom1. 

DoTH thy heart stir withiD thee at the eight 

or orchard· bloom a upou the moaay bough t 

Doth their sweet bouaebold·emile waft back the glow 

Of childhood's morn-the wondering, fresh delight 

lu earth's new colouring, then all strangely bright, 

.A joy of fairy-land 1 Doth some old nook, 

Hauuted by visions of thy lira!.-loved book, 

Rile on thy eoul, with faint-alrellk'd bloesoma white 

Sbower'd o'er tbe turf, and the lone primrose k.nQt, 

And robin's neat, still faithful to Lbe spot, 

And the bee's dreary chime t 0 gentle friend! 

The world's cold breath, not Timt'•, this life bereaves 

or verual gift.a; Time hallows what he leaves, 

And -will for us eodea.r ep1-ing memories to the end. 

. Mas. Hluulla: 

0 /

18 

'a 81namu. 

F.All!. pledgee of & fruitful tree, 

Why do ye fall ao fut 1 

Your date ia not 10 put, 

But you may atay yet here a while 

To bluah ud gently smile, 

And go at laat. 

What, were ye born to be. 

An hour or half's delight, 

.And ao to bid good-night f 

'Twas pity Nature brougnt ye forth 

Merely to show l.~~r worth, 

lose you quite. 

But you are lovely leaves, where we 

M.ay read how aoon things have 

Their end, though ne'er so brave; 

~d aner they _have ahow_n their pride 

Llke you, a while, they glide 

Into the grave. 

. HnJt.rClt. 

CoMB forth. and let WI through our hearts reeei\•e 

,;he joy of verdure. See! the honey'd lime 

Showerscool gFeenlighto'erbnnkswherewild-flowersweav.? 

Thick tapestry, and woodbine tendrils climb 

Up the brown oak, f1·om buds ofmoea &nd thyme. 

The rich deep Dlll88eB of the sycamore 

Hang heavy with the fulne!!lll of their prime ; 

.ADd the white poplar, from ita foliage hoar, 

Sel\ttera forth gleams like moonlight, with each gale 

That sweeps Lhe boughs; the cbeatnut-flowera are put, 

The crowning glories ofthe hawthorn fail, 

But arches of aweet eglantine are cast 

From every hedge. Oh I never m&j we loee, 

Dear friend I our fresh delight in simplest Nature's hue.~. 

Mll8. Hlru.Uie.

Jll 

H.&tu& I come creeping, creeping ner,whln i 

By the duaty road~de7 

On the sunny hill-side, 

Close ~Y the noisy brook. 

In every shady nook, 

I oome CNeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come creeping, l!tlliUng enrrwbere; 

All round t he open door 

Where Bit the aged poor, 

Here, where the children_ play 

In the bright and marry Hay, 

I come creeping, creeping etel'Ywhere. 

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere 1 

In the noisy elt{y street 

My pleasant f'llce you'll meet, 

Cheering the Bick at heart, 

Toiling his busy pt.rt, 

Silently creeping, creeping evel'Ywhere. 

Here I come creeping, creeping &Verywhere; 

You cannot see me coming, 

Nor be&.r my low sweet bllmmiu1; 

For in the a~ry night, 

And the glad morning light, 

I oome quietly creeping everywhere. 

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere 1 

More welcome tb&ll the ftowen 

In summer's pleasant houn : 

Tbe gentle cow is glad, 

And the merry bird not aad, 

To see me creeping, cr~eping everywb~re. 

Here I come creeping, creeping everywheJ.'e; 

My bumble song of praise 

Moat _gratefu1ly l ra11e 

To H1m, at wboee command 

I beautify the land, 

Creeping, ailently oreeping nerywhere. 

S.t.uB Boaxa'l'8.

tit .ikularh. 

1IA.n. to thee, blithe spirit I 

Bird thou never wert. 

That frOm heaven, or near it. 

Pourest thy full heart 

In profase ·stra.ina of unpremeditated art. 

Higher still and higher, 

From the earth thou apringeat 

Like a cloud of fire; 

The blue deep thou win~est, 

And ainging still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. 

In the golden lightning 

Of the sunken sun, 

O'er which clouds are brightening, 

Thou doat float and run ; 

Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begnu. 

The pale purple even 

Melts around thy fiight; 

l.ike a star of heaven, 

In the broad claylight 

Thou art unseen, but yet I bear thy shrill delight.. 

Keen as are tl1e arrows 

Of that silver sphere, 

Whose iuteuse lamp n&rrowa 

lri the white dawn clear, 

Until we hardly see, we feel that it ia there. 

All tbe earth and air 

With thy voice is loud, 

.All, when night is bare 1 

From one lonely cloud 

The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflv,Ye.l . 

"Whnt thou a.rt we know not ; 

What'is most like thee 1 

From ra.inbow cloucle thel'e flow not 

Drops so bright to see, 

A..a from thy presence sbowet·s a rain of melody. 

Like a poet bidden 

In the light of thought, 

Singing hymns nnbidllen, 

Till the world is wrought . 

'J.'o sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:

POEKB OJ' JIATUU. 

L\ke a high-born maiden 

Iu A. pn.lace tower, 

Soothing her love-laden 

Soul iu se\!ret hour 

With music :oweet as love, wl.!d1 overftowa her bower: 

Like a glow-worm golden 

In a dell of dew, 

Scattering unbeholden 

Its a~Jrial hue 

' 

Among the fiowera a.nd graaa, which screen it f'rom the 

Tiew. 

Like a rose embowered 

In ita own green leaves, 

By warm win(]a de1lowered, 

Till the acent it gives 

M.akee f'aint with too much sweet these heavy-winged 

thieves. 

Sound of vernal showers 

On the twinkliug grass, 

:Rain-awakened Bowers, 

All tha.t ever was 

Joyous, a.nd clear, and fresh, thy music doth aurpa11. 

Teach ue, sprite or bird, 

What eweet thoughta are thine: 

I have never heard 

Praise oflove or wine 

That panted forth a 11ood of rapture ao divine. 

Chorus hymeneal, 

Or triumphal cha.nt, 

M.atch'd with tlline would be all 

But an empty vaunt- 

A thing wherein we feel there ia aome hidden want. 

What objects are the fountaiDa 

Of thy happy etrai.%1 Y 

What fields, or wavee, or mountains t 

. . What ahl\pea of ak{ or plaint 

What love of thine own kind wl.t.at ~gnora.nce of paint 

With thy clear keen joyance 

Languor cannot be : 

Shadow of annoya.nce 

. Never came near thee: 

Thou loveat; but ne'er knew love's aad satiety.

Walci.ng or uleep 1 

Thou or death mllet deem 

Tbinp more true and deep 

Than we mortAla dream, 

Or M.- ooold thy notes flow in such ll cttylt&1 abwm 1 

We look before and after, 

And pine for what ia no~: 

Our 1incerest laughter 

With aome pain ia fraught ; 

f>nr aweetoet aongs are t.b.oee that tell of aaddeet thought. 

Yet if we could scorn 

Hate, and pride, and fear ; 

If we were thioge born 

Not to abed a tear, 

llmow not how tby joya we ever ahould O(lnte n~. 

Better than all measures 

or delightful sound, 

Better than all treaaurea 

That in boob are found, 

Thy skill to poet were, thou ecorner of the ground! 

Teach me half the gladness· 

That thy brain must know, 

Such harmonious madneBB 

From my lipa would flow, 

The world should listen then, u I am listening now. 

Sa.&LI.Er . 

ID ll Sll!ZliUk. 

'~ minstrel! pilgrun or the sky I 

Doet thou dea.Piae the earth where carea nbound 1 

Or, while the wtnga aspire, are heart and eye 

Both with thy neet upon the dewy gTOund 1 

Thy neat which thou cail.t. drop into at will, 

Thoae quinring winga oompceed, that music still! 

.Leave to the nightingale her shadl wood 1 

A privacy ot glorious light is thme; 

Whence thou doet pour upon the world a flood 

Ofbarmouy, with inatinct more divine; 

'J.'ype of the wise who lbar, but n6\'et n)6Dl ; 

TrUe to the kindred polnta of he& 'fen a.nd home. 

WoUISW'Oath

l'OJDIII 0., JUT11BB, 

Ja I gut 1\t gmtlt Jnlt I 

Lo I here the gentle lark, wenry of rest, 

From his moist e:tbiuet mount.ll UlJ on high, 

And wakes the morning, from whoee silver breoat 

The sun ari.seth in his maJesty ; 

Who doth the world so glonouely behold, 

That oedu-tope and hills seem burnish'd gold. 

SBA.U8Pua:&. 

P(>lDIS 0., NATURE. . 

,~, Jhmtl. 

SoME humble heru-t is sore and sick with grief, 

·:ADd straight thou comeat with thy gentle soug · 

To wile the suffere1r from his hate or 1"'0Dg 1 

By bringing N ature'a love to his relief. 

Thou cburmest by the aiok child's window loug, 

Till racking pl\in itself be woo'd to sleep; 

And when away have vaniah'd iiower 1\Dd leaf 1 

Thy lonely wailin!t voice for-them doth weep 

Linnet ! wild linnet l 

God sa.w how much

pOJ!llll OJ' li..LTtrii.L 

20 

to * «nd1.0o. 

0 BLITIIZ New-comer I I h&ve heard, 

I bea.r thee, and rejoice. 

0 cuckoo I ahall I call thee Bird, 

Or but a wandering Voice t 

While I am lying on the graaa 

Thy twofold about I hear, 

From hill to hill it eeema to pe.as, 

At once far off, and near. 

Though babbling only to the vale 

or 8Ql18hlne a.nd of tlowera, 

Thou bringest unto me a tale 

Ohiaionary hon.rs. 

Thrice welcome, darling of the apring I 

Even yet thou art to roe 

No bird, bnt a.n inviaible thing, 

A voice, a mystery ; 

The same whom iD my. achool-boy days 

I liaten'd to ; that cry 

Whlcb made me look a thousand waya 

In bush, a.nd .tree, and eky. 

To seek thee often did I rove 

Through woods a.nd on the pen ; 

A.nd thou wert still a hope, a fove 

Stilllong'd for, never Men. 

And I can liRten to thee yet; 

Can lie upou the plain 

A.nd liateni till 1 do beget 

That go den time again. 

0 bleaaed bird I the earth we po.ce 

A.gnin appears to be 

An unsubstantial fal!ry place, 

That ie fit home for thee. 

W OILD6WOBII"Jt.

28 

A 'I'BOlTBAlJD miltlll from land are we, 

Ta.ing abon~ on the roaring sea ; 

From billow ~ bounding billow cast, 

Like 1leecysnow on the s~rmy blaet : 

The eaila are scat1ter'd abroad, like weeds! 

The strong mast-!1 shake, like quivering reeds; 

'l'he miRhty cables, and iron chains, 

The hUU, which nil earthlt strength disdains, 

They strain and ·they crack, and hearta of a~ne, 

Their natural hard proud strength diaowu. 

Up and down I up and down I 

From the base of' the wan~ the billow's crown, 

Amidst the 1Luhing "nd feathery foam, 

The S~rmy Pet1-el nuda a homa,- 

A home-if such a place may be 

For her who lives on the wide yide sen, 

On the craggy i~e, in the fro~:eo air, 

And only aeekinj~ her rocky lair 

To warm her you~g, and to teach them ~ spring 

At once o'er t he waves on their a~rmy wiDg I 

O'er ·the Deep I O'er the Deep! 

Where the whale, and &he abuk, and the aword-fi.&b 

Out!~ the blut and the driving n.iD, 

The Petie! tellet.lb. her tale-in Tain; 

For the mariner cal118tb the 'tf&ruiog bird, 

Who briogeth him neW'II of the a~rm unheard I 

-Ah I thu.a doeEI the prophet., of good or ill, 

Meet hate from the creatures he &erTeth still : 

Yet A. never fa.lter&-So, Petrel! apring 

Once more o'e.r tlb.e waves 011 thy stormy ~ 1 

PB.Ocra.

POBKB or .ATOIL&o 

t~t trc.m Jimtd. 

BDUTB tl;ese fruit.tTee bougha tbat abed 

Tbeir mow-white blossoma on my bean, 

With brightest sunshine round me spread 

or spring's unclouded weather : 

In this aeque11ter'd nook how sweet 

To eit upon my orchard-seat I 

And birda and flowe1'8 once more to greet. 

My last year's friends together. 

One have I msrk'd, the happiest guest 

In aU thia covert of the bleat : 

HAU to thee, far above the rest 

In joy of voice and pinion I 

Tbou, Linnet I in thy green array, 

Presiding Spirit here to-day, 

Doet lead the revele of the May ; 

.And thie ia thy dominion. 

While birds, and butterflies, and ftower11, 

Make a.U one band of patamou1'8 1 

Thou, ranging up and down the bowt re, 

Art sole in thy employment : 

A Life, a Presence like tl1e Air, 

Scattering thy gladnesa without care, 

Too blest with any one to pair; 

Thyself thy own enjoyment. 

Amid yon tuft of hazel-trees, 

Tbat twinkle to the j;U&ty breeze, 

Behold him pereh'd m ecstaeies, 

Yet seeming still to hover ; 

There I where the ftutter ofhia wiuga 

Upon his back and body fliu~ 

Shadowa Mel sunny glimmennge, 

That cover him aU over. 

My dazzled sight he oft deceives, 

A brother of the dancing leaves 1 

Then dit.s, and from the cott.a~e eavee 

Pours forth hil eong m gnahee' 

Aa if by that exulting strain 

He mock'd and treated with dildaln 

The woiceleu form he chot!e to feign, 

While ftutteriog in the buabee. 

Woli.D8WO~B.

PO.Df8 OJ' lfA'rU&Z. 

WITH the lfllf'eet &ire of spring the Robin comea ; 

And in her simple song there aeema to gwsh 

A atrain of sorrow when abe miteth 

Her Jut yea.r 1 a wither'd nest. But when the gloon1 

Of the deep twilight falla, a he takes her perch 

Upon the red-stemm'd hazel's slender twig 

That overban8• the brook, and suits bel' song 

To the alow r&vu1et.'a inconstant chime. 

In the last daye of autumn, when the corn 

Lies aweet and yellow in the ha"est.-field, 

ADd the fri\Y company of reapen bind 

The bearded wheat in ebeave-theu peala abroad 

The blaekbird'e merry chant. I love to hear, 

Bold plunderer, thy mellow bunit of aon.g 

Float from thy watch-place on the moaay tree, 

Cloae at the eorn-f!eld eclge. 

M'LELI.Alf, 

MOST glorioua orb I that wert a worehip, ere 

The mystery of tby making Wt18 renal'd I 

Thou ee.rlieat minister of the Alm i~hty, 

Which gl.adden'd, on their mounlatn tope, the hearts 

Of the Cbald~an shepherds, till they ~ur'd 

Themselves· in orisons I Tbou material god I 

And representative of tb' Unknown- 

Who chose thee for bia shadow. Thou chief Btl\r I 

Centre of many atara I which malt'at our earth 

Endurr.ble, &Dd tempereat the huea 

And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! 

Sire of the eeuona I Monarch of the climes, 

And th01111 who dwell in them! for nee.r or far 

Our inboru apirita ban a tint of thee, 

Even aa our outward aepeeta ;-thou doet rise, 

And ahine, and eet in glory. Fare thee well! 

I ne'er aball eee thee more. 

Bnol!f.

29 

t~c iiliing i1ut. 

LooJt yonder, with delighted heart and eye, 

On t.hoee low eotta.gee that shine so bright 

(Each with"ita garden plot of smiling green), 

&bed in the ~lory of the aettin~ enn l 

But he ia partmg-fading-day 11 over- 

- Y onder he hAstens to diffuse new life. 

Oh, for a wiug to raise me up from earth, 

Nearer, and yel. more near, to the bright orb, 

That unreatrain'd.I still might follow him! 

Then should I see, in one unvarying glow 

OC deathleae evenib~latbe reposing world 

Beneath me-the · kindling-tbe sweet vales, 

Beyond the billa, Mleep in the soft beama ; 

The silver streamlet, at the silent touch 

Of heavenly light, tr4IlB6gured into gold, 

.Flowing in brightness inexpreaaible I 

Nothing to atop or stay my mlike motion ! 

The rug~ed hiU, with ita Wi:fd cliffil, in vain 

Would J'lle to hide the BUD; in vt.iD. would strive 

To check my glorious coune; the aea already, 

With ita illumined bays, that buru beneath 

The lord of day, before tbe a&tQniabed eyes 

Opens ita bosom-and be seems at la.at 

Just sinking-No-a power unfelt before- 

An impulae indeacribable, succeeds I 

Onward, entr&noed, I hAste to driult tbe bea.ms 

Of the unfadiog light-before me day- 

And night left still behind-and overhel\d 

Wide heaveD-and under me the apreading sea I 

A glorious vision, while the setting sun 

Is lingering! Oh, to the spirit's 11.ight, 

How faint and feeble are material wings I 

Yet anch our nature is, that when the l&rk, 

IDgh over us, unseen, in the blue •ky 

Tbrille his h~art-piercin~ song, we feel ourselves 

Preas up from earth, as twere in l'lvalry ,- 

And wheu above the savage hill of pioea, 

The eagle sweeps with outspread wings,-and when 

The crane punues, high off, hie homew&rd patl1 1 

Flying o'er watery moors aud wide lakea lonely l 

Traml«Ud from Goe/M. 

,A NSUR.

$nnut at $ea. 

'Tts sunset; to the firmament serene 

The Atlantic wave nfiect.e a gorgeoua ltOelle; 

:Broad in the cloudle1111 west, a belt of gold 

Gird• the blue hemiaphere ; above unroll'd 

The keen clear air grows pAlpable to aight, 

Embodied in a ftush of crillliOn light, 

Through which the evening-star, with milder gl~m, 

Deacende to meet- her imAge in the stream. 

MoNTOO~BT. 

How cAlm, 

How awfnl calm they shine-unmoved, untouched, 

Amid the tempeata of poor huma.n thought I 

There they be.ve watched this weary earth grow old, 

And still they uea.m as fair as at the first, 

Iu all their radiant youth I Still they keep watch 

O'er the great march of life, aud time, and cha.Dge, 

And even o'er me they bend ! .A4a, alas ! 

Meek, silent witnesses of sin and shame, 

How macb do tuey enclare to look upou I 

Now, in the byewaya of the lonely night, 

Love wandem with her one child, Misery, 

And caunot aee the heavens through her te&N. 

Mo&ning, abe wanden with slow fainting steps, 

And bends her dying eyea upon the ground 

To find a welcome grave. 

--·~ 

it be ®ttan. 

·'Rot.t. on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll! 

Ten tbo118l\nd fteete sweep over thee in vain ; 

Man marks tbe earth with ruin-his control 

BtQpa wiL11 tl.te sbo1-e ;-upon the watery plnin 

The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remam 

A shadow of man's ravage. save his own, 

When for a moment, like a drop of n.in, 

He sinks iuto t.h,y depth.! with bubbling groan, 

Without a gran, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. 

..

PODS OF lfA 'l't71l.a. 

Tbe 1\J'mamenta which tbundentrike t.he walt 

Of rock-built eit.iea, biddiDg nation• quake, 

And monarchs tremble in their capitale, 

The oak leviathiWll, whose huge t"ibe make 

Theil' clay creator the vain title take 

Of lord of tl1ee, and arbiter of war ; 

Tbeee a1·e thy toys, l\lld 1 

aa the enowy Aab, 

Thel ruelt into th7, yeat~t ofwavea, wbioh mar 

Alike th Arma.da '• pnde 1 

or spoils of Trafalgar. 

Thy ahoree are empires, changed iu alluve the& 

.Aasyria., Greece, Rome, Cuthage, what are they . 

Thy waters waated them while they were free. 

ADd mauy a tyrant since ; their abortsa obey 

The etrang:er, eltlve, or aavage; their decay 

Hae dried up re!Uillll to ue.9erta :-not 10 thou, 

Unchangeable save to thy wild wavee' pla,y 

Tim.e writ.. no wrinkle on thine uore brow 

Such aa creation's dawn beheld, thou rolleet now. 

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty'e form 

Glll88e8 itself in tempests; in all time, 

Calm or convul.sed-iubreeze, or gale, or storm, 

Icing the pole, or in the torrid cliwe 

Dark-lieaving; boundless, eudleu, aod aublim& 

Tbe ima~e of·Etemity-the throne 

Of the In•IBible ; even from out thy slime 

The monsters of. the deey are made · each zone 

Obeys thee ; thou goeat forth, dread, fathomless, alone. 

And I have loved thee, Ocean I and my joy 

Of youthful sports waa on thy breaat to be 

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy 

I wanton'd with thy breakers-they to me 

Were a delight; and If tl,le freahenine' eea 

Made them a terror-'twaa a pleu1ng fear, 

.For I wu aa it were a child of thee, 

And truated to thy billows far and near, 

And laid my hand upon thy ma.ne-aa I do here. 

BTBON. 

11

POI!XS OJr N'AIJ'OR&, 

I. 

IT i.e the midnight hour :-the beauteous sea, 

Calm aa the cloudless heaven, the heaven disclose.9 1 

While many a sparkling star, ill quiet glee, 

Far down within the watery sky repoaell. 

As if the ocean's heart were stirr'd 

With inward life, a sound is heard, 

Like tlu~t of dreamer m1U'XQuring ill hie al~ep; 

'Tis partly the billow, and partly the air, 

That 'lies like a garment floating f.air 

Above the happy deep. 

The sea, I ween cannot be fann'd 

By, evening freshness from the 1And 1 

For the land it is fat· away; 

But God bath will'd that the sky-born bree.ze 

In the centre of the loneliest seaa 

Should ever sport and play. 

The mighty Moon she sits above, 

Encircled with a zone of love, 

A zone of dim nnd tender light 

That makes her wakeful eye more bright : 

She seems to shine with a sunny ray, 

And the night looks like a mellow'd day t 

The gracious mistress of the .Main 

Ha.th now an undisturbed reign, 

And from her silent throne looks down, 

As upon children of her own, 

On the waves t~t lend their gentle breast 

(n gladness for her couch of rest. 

Wu.so~. 

AT midnight 

The moon arose ; and, lo! the etheren.l cliff's 

Of Cancaeus, whose icy summits shone 

Among the eta.rs like sunlight, and around 

u.

Whoae cavern'd bue the whirlpoola and the wave~, 

Bunting and eddying irreaiatibly, 

Rage and reaound for ever. 

. . . . . . . . 

The erap;a closed round with blAck and jagged arms. 

The ehatter'd mountain overhung the 114.'&, 

And !a.ater atiU bf.yond all human speed 1 

Suepended on the sweep of the smooth wave, 

The little boot wae driven, A cavern there 

Ynwn'd, and omid ita slant and winding doptha 

!Dgulf'd the rushing sea. 

Sa&U.u 

ii1ting on tb-t ~~ort. 

Tn tide baa ebb'd away: 

No more wild daabings 'gainst the adamant roc&:., 

Nor swaying amidst seaweed fahe, that mocka 

The hues of garden gay : 

No laugh of little wavelets at their play: 

No lucid poole reftectin~ heaven'• clear brow 

Both storm and ea1.m alike are ended now. 

The rocks sit grey and lone : 

The shifting saud is spread 110 amooth and dry 

That not a title wigl1t. ever have swept by 

Stirring it with rude monn: 

Only some weedy fragment, idly thrown 

To rot beneath the sky, tell what has bettu: 

But Desolation's self has grown serene. 

Afar the mountains rise, 

And the broad eetua.ry widens out, 

All sunshine; wheeling round and round about 

Seaward, a whittt bird flies. 

A bird 1 Nay, seems it rather in these eyes 

A spirit, o'er Eternity's dim sea, 

Calling-" Come thou where all we glad souls be." 

0 life I 0 eilent shore, 

Where we sit patient I 0 great sea beyond, 

To -which we turn with solemn hope IUld fond, 

But sorrowful no more I 

A little while, and then we, too, shall soar 

Like wbite-wlng'1l sea-birds into ~he Infinite Deep: 

Till then, Thou, Father-wilt our spirits keep. 

Mms MuLOcJC. 

> 

33

Tss island lies nine leagues away, 

Along ita 10litary shore, 

Of er~~ggy rock and aandy bay, 

No 10und b1.1t ocean's roar, 

Save, where the bold, wild eea·bird m&kes 'her hme.; 

Her shrill cry coming through the sparkling fOCWJ. 

But when the light winds lie at rest, 

A..nrl on the g!asay, heaving aea, 

The black duck, with her gloaey breast, 

Bite awiuging silently ; 

How beautiful! no ripplea break the reach, 

And ailvery waves go noiaeleaa up the beach. 

.And inland rests the ~en, warm dell ; 

The brook comes tinkling down ite aide: 

From.out the treea the Sabbath-bell 

Ringa cheerful, CAr and wi.de, 

Mingling ita eonnda with bleatinga of the ftocb, 

That feed about the vale amongst the rocks. 

R. H. DAJJA.. 

lREXEKBD, 

Two miles on thia aide orthe fort, the road 

Crosaes a deep ravine: 'tia rough and narrow, 

And winds w1th short turns down tbe precipice ; 

And in ita depths thel'6 is a mighty rook, 

Which has, from unimaginable ye.ra, 

Suetain'd itself lll'ith terror nnd with t4>ll 

Over a gulf, and with the agony 

With whicll it clings, eeems ~owly coming down; 

Even as a wretched soul. hour after hour, 

Cli.ngs to the mag of life; yet clinging, leans, 

And, leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss 

In which it fears to full, Beneath this crag, 

Huge aa despair, as if in wearineas, 

The melancholy mountain yawns. BeloW', 

You hear, but see not, an impetuoua torrent

POE¥8 OJ' lf.UVB.& 

Raging among the caverns, and a bri11ge 

Crosaes the chaml ; and higb above these grow, 

With intersecting trnnka, from crag tQ crag, 

Cedal'll, 11nd yews, and pines; whole tangled h•ir 

Ia matted in one aolid roof of abade 

:By the dark ivy's t1vine. At noonday here 

'Tie twilight, aud at sullllet Wackeat n~t. 

SB&wr. 

31f 

~n 'ng{itb :Janbsca;t. 

Tse tbrus'hea eang, 

A ud shook my pu1ses llnd the elm's oew lenv~a; 

And then I turn'd and held my finger up, 

And bade him mark, the.t howeo~'er the woJ"ld 

Went i1l, "'be related, ~laly 

The thrushes atill 8:\ng in it. At which word 

His brow would soften, aod he bo1·e witb me 

In meltmcboly plltieoce, not unkind; 

While, breaking into voluble ecat.aey. 

I fiatter'tl all the bl'auteoua country round, 

As poets use-the skies, the clouds, the fields, 

The happy violets, hiding from the roads 

The pr1mrosea run down to, carrying gold- 

The tangled hedge-rows, where the cowe push out 

Their tolerant horns and patient churning mouths 

'Twixt. dripping ash-boughs-bedge-row11 all alive, 

With birds, aoa gnats, and lllrge white butterffiea, 

Wbicb look as if the May-flower had caught life 

And palpitated forth upon the wind- 

Hills, valea, woods, .netted in a silver miat: 

Farroa, grange~, doubled up among the bW., 

Ami cattle grazing in the water'd vales, 

And cottage chituceye smoking froiD the wood&, 

And cottage gardeos smelling eve1·ywhere, 

Confused with smell or orchards. "See," I said, 

"And see, is God not with us on the earth 1 

And shall we put Him down by ·aught we do 7 

"Who says there's nothing for the poor And vile, 

Save poverty a.ud wickeclneaa T behold!" 

And ankle-deep in Eugliab gnum I leap'd, 

And clapp'd my ha.nda, and Cl\ll'J all very fair. 

ELt;r;U&TB B. :B&OW!UYO·

36: l'O.K1l.8 0~ NATil'RB.- 

~ Stent itt ) utt. 

'MoNG the green lanes of Kent-green sunny la.ne~J-- 

Wbere troops of children about, and laugh, aqd plAyJ 

.And sather daisies, stood an antique borne; 

Withan its orchard, rich with rudlly fruits, 

For the full year was la.ugbing in his prime. 

'Wealt.h of all ftowers gTew in that garden green, 

A.nd the old porch with illl great oaken door 

Was sn1otber'd in rose-bloorus, while o'er the wo.llil 

The honeytiuckle clung deliciously. 

Before the door there ID.y a plot of gmss, 

Snow'd o'er with daisies-ftower by all beloved, 

And !amoosest in song-and in the midst, 

A oarvM fountain stooo, dried up nnd broken, 

On which a peacock perch'd and eunu'd itael£ 

Beneath, two petted rabbits, snowy white 1 

Squatted upon the swnrd. 

A row of poplars darkly rose behind, 

Around whose tops, and the old-fashion'd vanes, 

White pigeons flutter'd, and o'er all was beut 

The mighty sky, with sailing sunny c1oulla. 

ALEXANDER SxlTn. 

Jin.ts t.ampoub a fdu mi!ta ahobt ~inurn ~btg, .on 

rtbl&iting tht ~anks d iht e.tne. 

FIVE years have past i five summers, with the length 

Of five long winters I and sgnin I heAt' 

These waters, rolling from their mountain•springs 

With a soft inland murmur.-Once again 

Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, 

That on a wild secluded scene impress 

Thoughts of tnote deep secJusion ; anJ connect 

The landscape with the quiet of the sky. 

T he day is come when I again roepose 

Here, under this da1·k sycamore, and view 

These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts, 

Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, 

Are clad in one gTeen hue, and lose tbt-mselves 

'Mid groves and copses. Once a~in I see 

These hedge-l'ows, hardly l1edge•rows, little lines 

.Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral fanua

1'008 OJ' 2f A.!'tT1Ut. 

Green to the very door ; and wrentha of IJDioke 

Sen~ up, iu silence, from among the treee I 

With loml' unct:rtain notice, aa migM eeem 

Of "agratJt dwellet'll in the houeele~~~~ wooda, 

01· of aome H ermit's cave, where by bia fire 

The Hermit eits alone. 

These beauteona forms, 

Through a long absence, have not been to rue 

.Aa ian landscape to a blind ml\n'a eye : 

But on in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din 

Of towns nod cities, I hnve owed to them 

In hours of wearineBS, set181\tion.a sweet, 

Felt in the blood, and felt aloug the heart; 

.And pllSIIing even into my purer mind, 

With tranquil restoration :-feelingt too 

Of unremember'd pleasure : such, perbape, 

.Aa hAve no alight or trivial inftuence 

On that best portion of a gooJ man'e life, 

Hie little, nameles.a, unremember'd acta 

Of kindneee and nf love. Nor leas, I trust, 

To them I moy ha"e owed another gift, 

or aspect more sublime i tllat bleeeed mood, 

Jo which the burthen of tho mystery, 

In which the heavy and the weary weigl1t 

or all this unintelligble world, 

Ia lighteu'd :.--that serene and ble1111ed mood 

In which the affections gently lead us on, 

Until the breath of this corporeal frame, 

And even the motion of our hnman blood, 

.Almost &UApended, we are laid uleep 

In body, and become a living aoul: 

While with an eye made quiet by the power 

Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, 

We eee into the life ofthinga. 

Hthia 

Be but a vain belief, yet oh I bow oft- 

In tlarknesa and amid the maoy aha pea 

Of joyll!a& daylight; when the fretful etir 

Unpt·o6table, and the fever of the world, 

Have bung upon the beatings of my heart 

How on, in spirit, have I turn'd tu thee, 

0 eylvan Wye I thou wanderer through the wooda, 

How often baa my·apirit turn'd to thee I

A~d Do•, with gleams of. hal!-extinguiah'd Uloag1t\ 

With JllaDY recognitions dim and ft.Lint, 

And 801oewh&t of a. aad perplexity, 

The picture ofthe mind revives lloQ'&in : 

While here lst.aud, not ouly with the sense 

Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thought. 

That in this moment there is life a.nd food 

For future yurs. And so I dare to hope, 

Tllongh che.nged, no dou ht, fl'om what I wa.a when first 

I ca.me among these hills; when lill:tt a roe 

I bounded o'er the mountains, by tho sides 

Of the deep rivers, and the lonely atream1, 

"Wherever nature led: more like a. man 

Flying from something that he dre&da, \han one 

Who sought the thing he loved. For na-ture theu 

(The co&l"Ber pleasurE!$ of my boyiah rlay1, 

.And their glad animal movement• all gone br) 

To me was all in all.-1 Mnnot pRint 

What thell I wsa. The soun•ling cntaract 

Haunted me like a p11.88ioo : the taU rock, 

The mountain, aud the deep and gloomy wood, 

Their colours and their forma, were then to me 

An appetite ; a feeling Rnd a love, 

That had no need of a remoter charm, 

By thought supplied, nor aoy intereat 

Unborrow'd from the eye.-That time is put, 

.And aU ita aching joya are oow no JJWP& 1 

And all ita dizzy raptu~eL Not for this 

Faint I, nor moum nor murmur; other gifts 

Have follow'd ; for 11uch to-. I would believe. 

Abundant reoompenae •. For l have le&l1l'd 

To Look on na'ure, oot as in the. hour 

Of thouf.btle111 youth, but hea.riog oftentim• 

The stil 1 

aad muaic o(humanity, 

Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample powu 

To cbaaten and subdue. .Aut! I bllve felt 

A. presence that disturbs me with the joy 

Of elevated tbongbUI; a eense aublime 

Of something far more clet>ply ioterfu~~ed, 

Whose dwelling Ia the light of letting auna, 

And the 'rOnod ocee.n, and t&e living m, 

.And the blue aky, and in the miud of mM • 

A motion e.nd a 1pirit that impels 

All tbiilking thiilgt 1 all objeo_ta of all 'bought,

POZKBOJ'Jr~ 

• 

And rolla throngh all lhings. '!'herefore aJil I dill 

A lonr of the mea.dowa and the wood' 

And mountains ; and of all that we bebold 

From thia grun earth ; or all lbe migbtr W'O~Id 

or eye and ear-both what they halC ereate, 

And what perceive; well pleaaed to reoogniM 

In nature and the luguage of the aenae, 

The anchor of my pnreet thoughta, the D\12'1(\ 

The guide, the gu&rdian. of my heArt, and 110111 

0£ all my moral beiug. 

Nor percballce, 

If I were not thu• taught, ahould I the more 

Bu&r my pnialapirita to decay : 

For thou art with me here upon the ~ 

Of thia fAir river ; thou my dearest Friend, 

'My dear, deu Friend ; and in thy voice I catch 

The language of my former he~ &tJd r~d 

My former ple:umree in the ehoot~ng li$ht1 

Of thy wild eyea. Oh I yet a little while 

May I behold in thee what I waa once, 

My dear, dear Sister I and this prayer I make, 

Knowing that nature never did betray 

The heart that loved her; 'tia bar P-rivilege, 

Thrunt(h all the yea111 o£ Utili OUJ' laf111 to felltl 

From JOY to joy : For she can so infol'm 

The mind that is within us, ao impreBS 

With quietoeaa and beauty, audio feed 

W ith lofty thought&, lhat neither evil tongue•• 

:Raab jndgroeuta, nor the eneers oC eeUish meo, 

N or greetinr where no kiDdneu i.e, nor all 

The dret.ry mterooun~e of daily life, 

Shall e'er prevail agaiu.at us, or diata1·b 

Our cheerful fAith. that all which we behold 

Is full of bleaainga. Therefore let the ~noon 

Shlne·ou thee in thy aolit.ary walk ; 

.And let tlle miaty mountein.wieda be free 

To blow againat thee : and iu aner yeara, 

When theee wild eoetna.iea ehall be n1atured 

Iuto a sober pleuu.re; when thy mind 

Shall be a maneioJl for all lovely forms, 

Tby memory be BB a dwelling-place 

For all sweet sounds and harmonies ; oh I then, 

IC eolitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, 

Should be thy portion, with .,hat healmg thought.

or "tender joy willt thou remember me, 

And theae my ex;hortational Nor, perchance 

If I should be where I no more CAU bear 

Thy voice, nor IUI>tch from thy wild eyes these gleams 

Of past existence~wilt thou then forget 

That on the banl•s of thill delightful stream 

We st.ood togetbor ; and that I, so long 

A wonthipper of Nature, hither came 

Unwearit>d in that service: ratb~r say 

With warmer lo,·&-h ! with far deeper zeru 

Of holier love. JN'or wilt thou then forget, 

'l'bat after many wanderings, miiDy ye&nt 

Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliftiJ, 

And this green pa.etorallandacape, were to me 

:More de&r, both tfor themselves a.nd for tby sake I 

W OIU>SWORTH. 

~ !lmemlmutu crf fmmut. 

' 0 VALl!> a.nd lake, within your mountain-urn 

Smiling eo triiDqutilly, and set so deep I 

Oft doth your drE•:u:J:~Y loveliuesR return, 

Colon ring the tender shadows of my aleep 

With light Elysian ; for the huea that steep 

Your shores in m•elting lustre, seem to Boat 

On golden clouds from spirit-lands remote, 

lslt's of the blest ; IUid in our memory keep 

Their place with holiest harmonies. Fair scene, 

Most loved by eve•ning and her dewy et&r I · 

Oh I ne'er mlly mt~n 1 with touch unbe.llow'd, jar 

The perfect music of thy charm serene I 

Still, atill nnebftngeil, may one sweet region wear 

Smiles that subdue the soul to love, and tea.ra, a.nd 

prnyer.

3 "piau a! nulling gtrtll' fot lJot!s mabt.'' 

I 111'00D tiptoe upon & tittle hill, 

Tbe air was eooling, and eo nry still 

That the sweet buds which, with a modest p1·ide, 

PuU droopinglf, in ala.nting curve aside, 

Their aeantf·leaved and finely tapering stems, 

Had not yet lost their st.arr1 diadems 

Caught from the e~rly aobbm~ of the morn. 

The clouds. were pure and wlntc aa ftocks new-ahoru, 

And fresh from the clear brook ; sweetly they slept 

On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept 

A little noisele1111 noise among the IeaveR, 

Born of the very sigh that silence heaves ; 

For not the faiutesf motion could be seen 

or all the ahades that slanted o'er the gnen. 

There was wide wandering Cor the greediest eye 

To peer about npou variety; 

Far round the horizon 'a crystal air to akim, 

And trace the dwindled edgings of ita brim; 

To picture out the quaint aud curious hendillg 

Of a fresh wood laud alley never-ending : 

Or by the bowery elena 11nd leafy ehelvea, 

Guesa where the jaunty slreama l'efresh themaelves. 

Here are sweet pe11.9, on tiptoe for a ftight: 

With wings of gentle fl11sh o'er delicate white, 

And taper fingers catcbine; at all thinga, 

To bind them all about 1nth tiny ring~~. 

Linger awhile upon some bending planlr:a 

That lean a~inst a streamlet'& ruehy banks, 

And watch mtently Nature'• gentle doinf': 

They will be found aofter than ringdovea cooings. 

How ailent cornea the water round tl1at bend! 

Not the miont.eat whisper does it aend 

To the o'erbanging aallowa : biMes of gra.ae 

Slowly ncroiiB the cheeker'd shadows paaa. 

Why, you might read two sonnets ere they reach 

To where the hurrying freshoesaea aye preach 

A natural sermon o'er their pebbly beds; 

Where aw&rma of minnowa eho'VI' their little hend11,. 

Staying their wavy bodies 'gainat the streama 1 

To taate the lu:rury of sunny beama 

Temper'd wilh coolneaa. How they eYel' wrestle 

With th11ir own sweet delight, and ever nestle

PUlDIB OF lU.TURJII. 

Their .Uver belliee on the pebbly eaud I 

If you but scantily bold out. the hand, 

That very iuata.nt not one will remain ; 

But turn your eye, and they are tht>re again. 

The ripples seem right glad to reach thoee cresses, 

And cool themselves amoug the emerald tre88ea; 

The while they cool the.meelvee, tbey freshness ghe, 

And moisture, that the bowery green may liTe : 

So keeping up an intercbange offavoure, 

L ike good men in the truth ot' their bebaviotn'S. 

Sometimes goldfinches one by oue will drop 

From low bung branches : little apace they atop 1 

But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek; 

Then off at once, all in a wanton freak: 

Or perhaps, to ahow their black and golden wing!J, 

Pausing upou their yellow flotteringa. 

Wbat nerl t a tuft of evening primrose8 1 

O'er which tl.e mind may hover till it doses; 

O'er which it well might take a pleuaut sleep. 

But that 'tis ever startled by the leup 

Of buds into ripe flo were ; or by the Bitting 

or diven moths that aye tlleir reat are quitting i 

Or by the moon lifting her ailver rim 

Above a cloud, nnd with a gradualawim 

Coming mto the blue with all her light. 

Ts& summer dawn's reflected hue 

To purple changed Loch Katrine blue, 

Mllii.Ly and sort the western breeze 

Just kiaa'd the Jake, just siirr'd the tr:eea. 

.And the pleased l~ke, llke maiden c:oy 1 . 

Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; 

The mouutain.-.sha.aows on her breast 

Were neither hl'oken nor at t-est ; 

In bright uncertainty the~ lie 1 

Like future joye to Fancy B eye. 

The water-lily to the light 

Her Chalice rear'd ofailver bright;

;roam 07 1U!I't1Jl& 

The doe awoke, and to the lawn. 

Begemm'd with dew-drops, led her l'awn; 

The grey miat left the mountain-aide 

The torrent abow'd ita gliatenina pride ; 

lnviaible in flecked aky, 

The lark sent down her revel1; 

The blackbird nod ~he apeckle tbruah. 

Good-morrow gave from brn.ke and bush ; 

In answer coo'd the cueha.t-dove 

Her notes of peace, and rest, aud love. 

SCO'rr. 

~~~ ~anu Df tb' !pt. 

0 ndales 

OfT111e, and ye mOI!t uscien\ woodlnds; where 

Oft, a.a the !iAn' ftood obli

POIDIS OJ' lf .LTUB.L 

How richly glo""'. the water'• breut 

Before ns, tinged with evening hues, 

While., facing thus the criroaon weat, 

The boat her silent con111e pnnuee I 

And see bow dark the backward stream f 

A little moment pMt 10 811\lliug I 

And etill, perhape, with faithleea gleam, 

Some othn loiteren beguiling. 

W O'RDBWO:BTB. 

''e Jlwwa gf a .faud Ji:U. 

M.aulf, thou -st. tho~h courtly pleasure~~ want ; 

Yet country RpOrt in Sherwood ia not .eant : 

For the aoul-ra~ delieioue eoDDd 

Of instrumental mucc we han found 

The winged quiristen, with diven uotes 

Seut from their qu"int recording pretty throats, 

On every branch that compMBetb our bower, 

Without command contenting ua each hour. 

Fol' anaa hangings a.nd rich tapestry 

We have eweet Nature's best embroidery. 

For thy ateel gl&se, wheRin thou wont'st to look, 

Thy cryetal eyes gaze in a crystal brook. 

At court " 4ower or two did deck thy bead, 

Now with whole gulanda it ia cireled; 

For what we want in wealth, we haYe in 4owen ; 

ADd what ,e 1~ in balls we find in bowers. 

8JCWrO!f. 

lkz ,fmst at~- 

Tua noondaylltUl 

Now a bone upon the fo~ one Yallt maM 

or mingling abade, whoee brown magnificence 

A II.&ITO, -n.le emboeoma. There, huge eana, 

~ in the dark t-e o( thoae aAry rocb, 

· r ita m

1'()&1{8 OF !U.TOU, 

4~ 

The meetiug bo~;~gbs 11nd im~licated lea vee 

Wove twilight o'er the Poets path, aa (e,J 

By. love, ·or dream, or god, or mightier Death, 

He ioogbt in N~ture'a de11reat haunt, aome blwk, 

Her cJ'&dle, and hitseepulcbre. :More dark 

And d11rk the eha.dee accumulntAr-the oak, 

Expanding its immense aud knotty a r me, 

Enibruces the light beech. Tbe pyramid* 

Of th., tall ced11r, overarchiog, frtuDe 

Moet aole1n n domes with in, aud far below, 

Like clouds suspended in an erue1·ald sky, 

The aeb and the acacia floating hang 

Tremulous and pnle. Like reatleas ser pents, clothed 

lD rainbow and in fire, the parasites, 

Stsrr'd with ten tboueand blossoms, flow around 

The grey trunks; and, I!JI gnmeaome infnnt.s' eyl!s 1 

With gentle meaniuga, and most innocent wiles, 

Fold their benma round the he&rts of tl1o&e tbntlo'"e, 

These twine their tendrils, with the wedded bougha 

Uniting thdr cloee union; the woven lenve11 

:Make net-work of the dark blue light or t.lny, 

And the night's noontide clearness, mutable 

A. ab11pes in the weird cloudij. Stoft mo

oi'JIS or ll' .&.ma& 

lom1"J'~~ . 

INTO thnt forest far they theace him led, 

Where wu their dwelling, in a pleuant ilade 

With mountain• round about eavironed ~ 

.And mighty woods which did the valley lhade 

And like a eta.tely theatre it made, 

Spreading itself into a .apacioua plain j 

And in the midst A little river play'd 

Amongst the pumy ttonee, which aeem'd to/lain 

With gentle murmur that hie course they

POZXB OY Jr.u'Uaa. 

Now all \he trece--tope ·lAy uleep 

Lib green wavea on ~he 18&; 

AA alill as is the silent deep 

The ocean-woods may be. 

How calm it wu l the ailenee there 

By 8'Qcb a chain -.u bot~od, 

That even the busy woodpeckw 

Made stiller by her sound 

The inviolable quiewaa; 

The bn~

1'008 OJ' lU.Tt7RX. 

Sweet viewa which in our world e.bove 

Can never well be seen, 

Were imaged by the water's love 

or that fair fo~st green : 

And all wu iuterfuseo.l beneath 

With IUl ElysiAn glow, 

An atmoephere without a breath, 

A softer dny below. 

C:be pnb .olb 8oobt. 

SSJ!:LUT. 

0 ~&A welcome are the ~d old woods, 

Fresh in young April, qu1ck with shooting green i 

Or rich in j nne, with lux.ury of leaves : 

:Right lovely are they io their growing pride, 

But lovelier io their glory of decay. 

Right joyous are they wheu the happy birds 

Salute the mom with thousand· throated songs, 

Or pour soft vespers to the setting sun, 

Singing the sum1ner d.'\y to balmy rest. 

Or whel'i a.lone the cuckoo's monotone 

Lulls drowsy noon ; or wheQ sweet Philomel 

Trilla pusionate mu~ic to the lis~ning night, 

And wakes the dreaming rose-buds with her song. 

0 fair and joyous are the woods io summer I 

"But when t.he birds are still, and faded leaves 

Fall in the silence, silently and slow, 

Then their solemnities have deeper joy, 

·Though lea.'! of rapture. And it i& the prime 

Of the year's growth, a.nd prodigality 

or ever-new d., lights, to linger loug 

When Queenly Autumn, laden with the wealU1 

Of all the seasons, passes in her pomp. 

WHITKOR&. 

~IUiiJ, ®c~11n, ~ir. 

EA.R'l'IJ 1 Ocean, Air, beloved brotherhood ! 

If our great Mother have imbued my soul 

With aught of nutural piety to ft:el 

Your love. and recompense the boon with mine ;

U dewy morn, and odoroua noon, and enu 

With suoset and ite gorgeoua miniatera, 

And solemn miduight'e tingli.Dg sileotne11 ; 

If Autumn's hollow eigha i.D the eere wood, 

And Winter's robi.Dg with pure aoow t.nd aro1!fllll 

Of atany ice the greJ ~ and bare bough• ; 

U Spring'e voluptuous pantlnga when ahe breathes 

Her first sweet kisses, have been dear to me; 

IC no bright bird, iosect, or gentle beaat 

I coneciously have injured, but atillloved 

ADd cheriah'd these my kindred ;-then forgive 

This boast, beloved brethren, and withdraw 

No portion of your wonted favour now. BB:ELLET. 

€&rning on Jake Jcmatt. 

IT ia the hu11b of night., and all between 

Thy margin and the mountains, do.ak, yet clear, 

Mellow'd and mi.Dgling, yet distinctly eeen, 

Save darken'd Jum, whose capt heights appe:u 

Precipitously steep; and drawing near, 

There b re~~olbes a Uvmg (ragra.nce from the shore, 

Of flowere yet fresh with ol1ildbood ; on the enr 

Drops the light drip of the auapen1led oar, 

Or chirps the gruahopper one good-night carol more; 

He is an evening reveller, who makes 

Hia life an infancy, and singe hia fill ; 

.At i.Dtervals, aome bird from out the brakes 

Starts into voice a moment, then ia a\ ill. 

There seema a fioating whisper on the hill, 

But ~hl\t ia fancy, for the starlight dewa 

.All ailently their tears of love inetil, 

Weeping themselves away, till they i.nfuae 

Deep into N ~~oture's breast the spirit of her hues. 

Ye atara I whieh are the poetry of hea.ven I 

U in your bright leaves we would read the fata 

or men and eropirea,-'tia to be forgi von, 

That in our aspirations to be gre~t. 

Our destinies o'erleap their mortal &tate, 

.ADd claim a kindred with you; for ye are 

A beauty and a. myatery, and create 

lo ue auch love t.nd reverence from afar, 

Tha.t fortune, fame, power, life, have named thomaelYea 

a star.

60 POJDlll o• lf.41'Uln. 

All heuen and earth are still-though 110t in afeep, 

But breathleea, aa we ~row when feeli.ag moat; 

.And ailent 1 

u we etand m tbougbtll too cfeep :- 

All heann and CIN'•b are etill : from the high h

~bt ~torm .ow tbe :J:Ips. 

TBa aky ia changed 1--oo euoh a c~ t Oh, rlight, 

And atorm, and darkne~ ye ar. woDdroaa' it.roug, 

Yet lovely in your strength, asia the ligb\· 

Of a dark eye ia woman I Far along,- 

From peale to peak, the rattling oraga &mOOg 

LeApe the live thunder: Not Crom one lone cloud, 

But every mountAin now hath found a tong_ue, 

A.nd Jura answers, through her misty ehroudJ 

Back to the joyoua Alps, who CAll to her aloud I 

And this is in thil night: Moat glorlona nigbt t 

Thou wert not sent for alumber I Let me be 

A sharer in thy fierce tlDd far deligbt 1 - 

A. portion of the tempest aod of thee I 

How the lit lake shinee, a pboepborlc aea 1 

, . 

And the big rain oomea danetng to the earth I 

A.nd now again 'tie black~-and now, the ~lee 

or the loud billa shakes with its mountain-mil"th, 

As if they did rej oioe o'er a young earthquake'• birth. 

Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, light.ninge t· ye! 

With ni~bt, and oloncle, and thunder, a.nd a eoul 

To mn.ke theae felt a.nd feeling, well may be 

Things that have made me wAtchful ; the far roll 

Of your departing voices· is the knoll 

Of what in me ia aleeple•,-lr I rest. 

But where of. ye, 0 tempests ! is the goal'1 

Are ye like those within the human breaat 1 

Or do ye lind nt hmgth, !.ike eagles, some high neat f 

. Bnoll. 

~znnmtt ~ottgittgs. 

As ! mr heart ia weal'y waiting, 

Waiting for the May- 

Waiting for t.be pleasAnt ramblea 1 

Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles, 

With the woodbine altel'U&tillg, 

Scent the dewy way. 

A.b I mr heart ia weary waiti&g, 

W aitmg for the May.

POlD&S O:r lfA.TVBL 

Ah I my heart is aick with longiDg, 

LoDging for the MAy- 

Longing to eecape (rom.etudy, 

'l'o the yollllg face fAir &nd ruddy, 

And the thouaand chllrtna belonging 

To the aummer'a day. 

Ah I my heart is sick with longing, 

Longing for the May. 

Ah I my boart ie sore with sighing, 

Sighing for the May- 

Sighing for their sure returning, 

When the summer beams are bnmin~, 

Hopea and 1lowera that, dead or dymg 

All the winter lay . 

.Ah I ruy heart i.a sore with eigh.illg, 

Sighing for the May. 

Ah I m.y heart ia pain'd with throbbing, 

Throbbing for the May- 

Throbbing for the sea-side billows, 

Or the water-wooing willows ; 

Where, in laughing and in sobbing 

Glide the etreams away. 

Ah ! my he~~. my henrt is throbbin,q, 

Throbbing for the May. • 

W&itin~ aad, dejected, weary, 

Waitmg for the May. 

Spring goee by with wasted warnin~, 

.Moon-lit evenings, sun-bright m.onungs; 

Summer comes, yet dark and dreary 

Life atill ebbs away: 

Man is ever 'Wea1'Y, weary, 

Waiting for the May I 

McOARTRY. 

3n ~pril !J~ . 

.ALL day the low-hung clouds have dropt. 

Their garner'd fuln889 down ; 

All day that eon grey mist bath wrap ~ 

Hill, valley, grove, aud town. 

There baa not been a sound to-dn.y 

To break the calm o£ nature, 

Nor ·motion, I might ahnoat say, 

Of life, or living creature ;

Of waving bough, or warbling bird, 

Or cattle fll.intly lowing : 

1 could have half-belieYed I heal'

~~Jpripg, 

Now that tbe winter's gone, the earth hath lOAt 

Her ano"lr·White robes, and now no more the frost 

Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream 

Upon the silver lake, or crystal stream; 

But the warm sun thaws t'he benumWd eutb, 

And makea it tender ; gives a. eecond birth 

To the dead a wallow; wakes in hollow tree 

The drows~ cuckoo, and the humble bee. 

Now do a choir of chirping minstrel.s bring 

ln triumph to the world the youthful Spring: 

The valleys, hills, and woods, in rich arrar, 

Welcome the coming ortbe long'd..for May. 

u. 

The swl\llow, for a moment seen, 

Skims in haste the village green ; 

From the grey lll.OOr, on feeble wing, 

The screamir.g plovers idly spring. · 

Fraught with a transient frozen shower 

If a cloud should haply lour, 

Sailing o'er the lnndsell.pe dat·k, 

Mute on a sudde~ is the lArk; 

But when glenma the ann again, 

O'er the pearl-besprinkled plain, 

And from behind his wntery veil 

Looks through the thin-descending bail ; 

She mounts, a.nd, lel!llening to the eight, 

&lutes the blithe return of light, 

And high her tuneful tracx pursues 

'Mid the dim ra4l.bow'a scatter'd hues. 

CAREW • 

• 

PI! 

Now Nnture hangs her mantle green 

On every blooming tree, 

And spreads her eheet.e o 1 daisies white 

Out o'er the~ le,a. 

And lav'l'OCks wake t~Q merry mo:rc 1 

Aloft on dewy wing ; · 

'i'lae merl!l, in his noontide bower, 

M.akea woodland echoes ring

l'Ob't o:r •.lfl!U. 

The mnis wild, with many a note, 

Sings drowsy day to rest; 

ln love and freedom they rejoice, 

With care ~or thrall oppreat. 

Now blooms tht! lily by the bank, 

The primroae down the brae ; 

The hawthorn's budding in the glen, 

And milk-white is the alae. 

G:~t Join af ip-ting. 

! 1 OOJB, 1 oome I ye have call'd rue long- 

{ come o'er the mountaillll with light and song I 

Ye ma)' trace my step o'er the waking eo.rth 

By the wiflds which tell of th~ violet's birth, 

By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grnss, 

By the green lee. vee opening as I pasa. 

I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut BoweN, 

By tho1181Ulde 1 

have bun~t from the foreat-bowers, 

And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes 

Are veil'd with wreathe on Italian plains;- 

Bnt it ie not for me, in my houl' of blooru, 

To apeak of the ruin or the tomb I 

1 have look'd on the hills of the stormy North, 

.And the larch has hung aU his tassels forth, 

The fisl1er is out on the sunny sea, 

And the reindeer bounds through the pastul'e free, 

And the pine has a fl'inge of softer green, 

And the moss looks bright where my foot hath been. 

I ba..,e sent through the wood-paths a glowing aigb, 

And call'd out each voice of the deep-blue sky; 

-rrom the night-bird'slo.y through the stArry-time, 

ln the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, 

To the swan's wild note by tfte Iceland lakes, 

'When the dark til'-branch into verdure break&. 

From the streams and fount. 1 haYe loosed •he chain, 

They IU"8 sweeping oo to th.e ailvery ma.io, 

They are ft!l.l:lhing down from the mountain brows, 

They are flinging 11pray o'er t"be forest bough~; 

They a~:e bun~ting frtab from theit -vaJ'lj cavea, 

ADd the earth l't!IMIWlda with the joy of waves I 

lba. B.mu.Ns. 

,

PODOl OJ' lfATOR&. 

Jinu furiftm i:n lllliiZ !prlng. 

I BtAllD a thousand blended notes 

WhUe in a grove I BAt reclin'd, 

In thAt aweet mood when pleasant thoughts 

Bring aan thoughts to the mind. 

To her fair works did Nature link 

The human soul that through me rau : 

A nil much it grieved my heart to think 

What man bas made of mao. 

Through primrose tufta 1 in that green bower, 

The periwinkle trail'

67 

And Afl.er April, when May followe, 

And the whitethroat builds, a.nd all theawallo,._ 

Hark I where my bl0880m'd pear· tree in the hedge 

Lee.vea to the field a.nd acattera on the clover 

Bl088oma and dewdrops-at the bent epl'ay'e edge- 

That's the wiae thrush ; be einga eaeb song twice over, 

Leat you should think he never could recapture 

The fint fine careless rapture I 

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, 

All will be gay wheu noontide wakes anew 

The butt~rcupe, the little children's dower, 

Far brighter than thia gaudy melon·fiower I 

Baowl!ING. 

»lift!· 

TKD ca.me fair May, the faireet maid on ground, 

Deck'd all with dainties of her eeaaou'a pride, 

And throwing Bowers out of her lap around: 

Upon two brethren's abouldera abe cUd ride, 

The Twine of Leda, which, on either aide, 

Supported her like to their sovereign queen, 

Lord I how all creatures laugb'd when her they spied, 

And leap'd a.nd danced as they had raviah'd been; 

And Cupid's ael! about her fiutter'd all in green. 

8PDSKR. 

$aug-an Blat! ~· 

Now the bri~ht morning star, day'• harbillier, 

Comea dancwg from the Eaet, a.nd leada w1th her 

The fiowery May, who from her green lap throws 

The yellow cowslip. and the pale primroae. 

Hail bounteous Ma.y I that doat inspire 

Mirth a.nd youth, and warm deaire ; 

W oode and groves are of thy dreuing, 

Hill and dale doth boi\Bt thy bleeaing. 

'l'hna we salute thee with our early eong, 

And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 

:MJI.Tolf.

!lwALt.Ow, awallow, hither wing, 

Bither, swallow, bringing spring; 

From the lAke bath gone the teal, 

Y,ed the widgeon from the ~am, 

Now no more oar bumin!f woods 

Hear the swooping merlin s ~~eream; 

Come, thoo d.awu ohnmmer, come, 

HiUJer leAves and shadows bringing, 

:Bladed forTOW&-nested eaves, 

S"Weeteet songs the Sooth is singing ; 

Bringing viofete---briugin~ spring, 

H ither, swallow, hither W1ng. 

Swallow, awallow, hither wing, 

Deareat playmate of the spring ; 

Come-the celandine no more 

Dread a the gusty wro.th of MaTCb, 

Golden to.asell'd ia the birch, 

Emerald fringes hath the luch ; 

Come, thou new a of aummel" come, 

Trilla nud hedge-r ow twittet~ngs bringing, 

Quivering mountings of the larl!, 

Bbrilleat songe the ouRel'a singing; 

Snowing orchard~ tlight of spring, 

Hither, awallow, !lither wing. 

BENNETT. 

Jprircg :Jtaming. 

SW'Df la the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, 

With ohann of earlloet bird. ; plea.aant the aUD 1 

When .6ret on thla delightful land he apreada 

Hie orient beama on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 

Glistering with dew; fragrant the earth 

Aner aoft ahowere 1 and aweet the ooming on 

Of grateful Enning mUd : thon aileut Night, 

With thia her eolemn bird, and t-his fair mooD, 

A.ud t.heee t.be gema of htuen, her ~tarry train. 

Mll..roN. 

,,

~~t ~ Jan in jlptDg. 

l now a lane thick eet wit~ golden broom, 

Where the pl'le primroae and tall orohia bloom ; 

..And azure violetA, lowly droopiug, ahed 

Delicious perfume round their m081y bed; 

And all the first-born bloaaoma of t.he year 

Th$.~ •t>ring unoultured, bud and blOU'Om here. 

Oh I 't•a a lovely spot I high overhead 

Gigantic oa'b their lofts brancbea 11pread; 

The gloeay ivy, the rich eglantine, 

The rambling briooy, and sweet woodbine, 

Fling their fantastic wreathe from apn.y to spr4y, 

And ahower their treasures in the lAp of MAy. 

Here the blithe blackbird trilla hie ml\tiu song 

Till woodlAnd dells his bugl&-notea prolong; 

Aud the gay linnet and the airy thrush. 

Reepenllive whistle from the hawthorn bush; 

Near, though unseen, the lonely cuckoo float., 

A..nd wakes the molll with hie complaining notea ; 

Here tbe ah1 pa-rtridge leads her. yellow brood 1 

And the maJestic phe&BI\nt from the wood 

No longer dreads tbe cruel fowler's gun, 

B·ut eporta bill gorgt:oua pluliiAge in the aun. 

'Tia pa•ing sweet to rove these woodlAnfl bowen~, 

When the young aun baa abe,\ on leaves and flowers 

A tender glory, and the be.lmy thorn 

Spreads bts white banner to the breath of morn 

Sporting a coronal of living ligh~ 

Strung from the dewdrops of the weeping night. 

'Tia aweet to trace the footatep• of the spring 

O'er the greeu earth-to see ber lightly Bing 

Her tlowery wreathe on N ature'a breathing shrine, 

And round the hoary woods her garlands twiue ; 

To hear her voice in every pl\88ing breese 

That atira the new-born follage on the trees. 

'Tie sweet to hear the songs of birda arise 

. At early dawn-to gaze on cloudless akie& 

To scatter round you, u you lightly paaa, 

A ahow81' of diamonds from each blAde of grau ; 

And while your footatepa Pfe• the de~ tod, 

"To look through blature up to Nature • God.'' 

l!uT Ho'lfJTT,

POlDl8 07 llf U'O"B.lt. 

imtg Dtt iprmg Jtam. 

To year's at the t~pring, 

.And day's at the morn ; 

Morning's at seven; 

The hill·side'a dew-pearrd. 

The lark's on the wing; 

The snail's on the thorn ; 

God' a in his heaven 

All's right with the world ! 

iprin:g anb imrott~t. 

GuCUULLT, gleefully, trippingly go 

O'er the bright mountains the fawn and the roo ; 

Joyfully, tunefully, lovingly sing 

All the sweet birds in the ear of the spring. 

Hopefully, carefully, joyfully ahe 

Scatters her smiles o'er the mountains and lea. 

Summer descends like a Bride~oom. whoee glow 

Crimsons the blossoms the apr1ng bade to blow ; 

Spring is his bride, and she sits at bis feet; 

Veil'd in his gloJ7, but ruling him sweet. 

Rums. 

,$ Utn'llUt • 

THEN came the jolly Summer, being digbt 

In a thin silken ca.ssock colour'd greene, 

That was unlyn6d all, to be more light: 

And on his head a gitlond well beaeene 

He wore, from which as he had cbaufi'ed been 

The sweat did drop ; and in his band he bore, 

A bowe and aha.t\ea, as he in forrest greene 

Had hunted late the Lib bard or the Bore, 

And now would bathe his limbs with labor heated Sort>. 

SPENSU. 

,i~mmtr-~arlr ~taming. 

'lis morn, but yet the full and cloudless moon 

Pours from her starry urn a chaeten'd light ; 

'Tis but. a little apace beyond the noon- 

. The atill, delicious noon of summer's night;

Forth from my home I take an early fiight, 

Down the lone -.ale punue my devious w&y, 

Bound o'er the meadows with a keen delight, 

'Brush from the forest let.vea the dewy spray, 

And aeale the toilsome steep, to wateh the kindling day. 

The lark is up diiiClainful of the earth, 

Exulting in his airy realm on high; 

Hie l!ong, profuse in melody and mirth, 

Makes vocal aU the region of the sky; 

The moor-eock, stnrUed with a sudden cry, 

Springe from beneath my feet ; and, as I pa111, 

The aheep regard me with an earnest eye, 

Ceasing to nibble at the aeanty grus, 

And aeour the barren waste in one tumultuoll.l mass. 

But lo, the atara are waning, nnd the dawn 

Blu.ehes and burn.s athwart the east ;-behold, 

The early aun, behind the upland lawn, 

Looks o'er the summit with a front of gold ; 

Back from hia beaming brow the mists are roll'd, 

And aa he eli mba the crystal lower of morn, 

.Rocks, woode~ and gl'ena their shadowy depths unfold ; 

The trembling oewe grow brighter on the thorn, 

Alld Nature emiles as fresh as if but newly boro. 

God of the boundless universe l I come 

To bold communion with myself and Thee I 

And though excesa of beauty makea me dumb, 

.My thoujihta are eloquent with all I aee ; 

My foot 1a on the mountailll!-I am free, 

And buoyant as the winds that round me blow, 

My dreams are sunny as yon pleaaant lea, 

And tranquil as the pool that sleepa below; 

While, circling round m.y heart, a poet'a raptures glow. 

Oh, glorioua summer I what a sight is here, 

To wean the heart from aelfishneaa and care l 

Where the vast pt·ospect, bl'igbt, distinct, and cle4r, 

Looks up in eilence through the ata.ioleaa nir: 

The moorlllllda nre behind me, blenk and bare, 

A rude and trackless wilderness of land; 

Beneath me lie the vales, calm, rich, anrl fair, 

With Alpine summits rising on each hand; 

Alld atretcbing far before, tbe peopled plailll! expe.nd. 

PlUliCK. 

81

~ ~nmmu ~~~!!· 

1 

IT is a aultry dAy; the IUD bu drunk 

The dew thet lay upon the morning grus ; 

There is no rustling in the loft;y elm 

That canopies my dwelling, and ita shade 

Bearce coola me. AU ia ailent, save the faint 

And int.ettupted munuur of the bee, 

St~ttling on the aiok 1lowen, and then agail1 

InatanUy on the wing. The planu arouncf 

Feel the too potent fervoun ; the tall maize 

Rolls up ita long green leaves; the clover droops 

Ita tender foliage, and declines ita blooms. 

But fAr in the fierce aunahine tower the hill.e 1 

With nil tbeit· growth of woods silent &nd stern, 

As if the acorcliing beat aucl d~ing light 

Were but nn element they loved. Bright clouds, 

M.otionleSB pill3l's of the bro.zen heaven- 

Their bases on the mountains-their white tops 

Shining in the far ether-fil·e the air 

With a re11ect.ed radiance, and make turn 

The gnzer'e eye a\vny. For me, I lie 

LD.nguiJly in the ehn.de, where tbe thick tul'f, 

Yet virgin lrom the kiSBea of the euo, 

Retains some freabneSB, and 1 woo the wind 

That still delays ita coming. Why: ao slow, 

Gentle and voluble apit·it of the air t 

Oh come and breathe upon the· fainting ea.rth• 

Coolneaa and life. Is it that in the cav~ 

He hears me 7 See, on yonder woody ridge,, 

The pine is bending hie proud top, and now 

Among the ue&rer grone, cbeetnut and oak: 

Are tosaing their green boughe about. He comes I 

Lo, wh,el'e the graaay me&rlow r uns in waves ! 

The deep distressful silence of the scene 

Breaka up with mingling of nnnumber·d aourfds 

Aud uninnal motion. He is come, 

Shaking a shower of blo•ome from the abru bs, 

And bearing ou their fragrnnce; and he bring~ 

Music of birds and rustling of young boughs, 

And sound of swaying branches, and lhe voice 

Of diat:lnt waterCaU1. All the green herbs 

Are stirring on hie breD.th : a thousand B.owe~ 

By the road·aide and borden of the brook,

l'OJal& o• lllnotJU. 

Nod gaily to each other; gloaey lea vee 

.Al'e twinkling in the sun. aa i! tbe dew 

Were on them ye~, and silver waten breAk 

Into arnall wavea md apr.rkle aa he c:om ... 

Ban.n. 

63 

!ummtr !f.o.on. 

Ta& m\d-d&y h our of twelve the clock 0011Jlta o'er, 

A sultry stillness lolls the air uleep ; 

The very bazz of flies is beard uo more, 

Nor faintest wrinkle. o'er the waten creep. 

Liko one large sheet of glass the waters Bhint>, 

· Reflecting on their face the hot. eun beam ; 

The very fi.ah their 6portive play declin~ 

Seeking t.he willow-6Ua.dowe 'aide the stream . 

.A..od, where tbe hawthorn branches o'er the pool, 

The little bird, forsaki.ng eon~ aud neat,. 

Fluttet'l on dripping twigs hia hrub. to cool, 

.A..od splashes i.JJ. the stream his burning breaat. 

Oh, fre11 froru thunder, for a sudden shower, 

To cherish nnture-in this noon-day hour! 

CLAn E. 

JofD afDut at iumrntr' s ~Dolt ta si.t 1mb JWst. 

1 

How sweet, at summer's noou, to sit and nl\188 

:Beneath the shadow of some ancient elm I 

While at. my feet the mazy streamlet flows 

In tuueful lapse, laving the flowers that bend 

To klaa ita tide ; while aport the finny throng 

On the smooth surface of the crJstal depths 

lu silvery circlet.s,.or in shallowa leap 1 

That sparkle to the sunbeam's tremblmg glare . 

.Arouna the tiny j ets, where humid bell.ti 

Break aa they form, the wa.tez-.apiders weave, 

llri..sk. on the eddying pools, theh· ceueleas dtwet>. 

The wild-bee winda her h orn, loat iu the cups 

Of honetd fiowera, or sweeps with ample our ve; 

While o er the summer's la.p ia heard the hum 

Of counties• inaectB sporting on the wing; 

Inviting sleep. And from the leafy wo~ 

O.ne varying song of burating joy aaceuda. 

Giu.asPIE.

$mnmtr's «bt. 

Ct.E.U had the day been from the d&Wll, 

All ohequer'd wM the sky, 

Thin clouds, like sCI\rfs of cobweb la.wn, 

Veil'd hea.ven'a moat glorious eye. 

The wind had no more strength than this, 

Tbt leisurely it blew, 

To make one leaf tbe next to kiss, 

That closely by it grew. 

The flowers, like brave erubroider'd girlR, 

Look'd as they most desired, 

To see whose head with orient pearls 

Yost curiously was tyred. 

The rills tltat on the pebbles play'rl, 

Might now be heard at will ; 

This world the ouly mtlilic made, 

Else every thing was still. 

And to itself the subtle air 

Buch sov'reignty assumes, 

That it received too lArge a share 

From Nature's rich perfumes. 

'ht 45lnbtuss o! !{!dun. 

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 

When our mother, Nature, laughs around; 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 

.And gladne88 breathes from the blo88o:ming ground 7 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 

And the go88ip of sw~Uow~ through. all ~he sk7 ; 

The ground•llqUllTel gatly chtrps by nul den, 

And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 

The clonde are at play in the azure space, 

And their shA.Clows at play on the bright green vale ; 

And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 

And there they roll on the easy gale. 

o.J•

PODS OJ' llf4TUU. 

There's a dance of leaves in thAt upen bower, 

There'• & titter or winda in that beechen tree. 

There's a smile on the froit 1 and a amite on the Bower, 

And a !&ugh on t.he brook that run• to the Ilea. 

And look at the broad-faced aun, bow be emile. 

On the dewy earth, that emil~• in hla n.y, 

On the leaping waters and gay youug i~le."; 

.Ay, look, and he'll emile thy gloom away. 

Bar .AliT. 

~utunnr. 

To Summer-6owe11 hu run to aeeti 

And yellow is the'woodland boug~; 

.And every leaf of bush and weed 

h tipt with Autumn's peneilno'W. 

The 'Woodbine-trees red berries bear, 

That clustering bang upon the bower j 

While, fondly liugering here and there, 

"Peepa out a dwindling, sickly ftower. 

The trees' g Ry leaves are turn6d bro'WII 1 

By every little wind undi'eBB'd ; 

.And u they flAp and whiatle down, 

We aee the bird's deserted neat. 

No thrush or blackbird meeta the eye, 

O:r filla the ear with summer's atraic ; 

They but dart out for worm and fiy, 

Then silent aeek their reet again. 

Beside the brook, in misty blue, 

Bilber1·iea glow on tendrils wealc, 

Where many a bare foot splashes through, 

The pulpy, juicy prize to seek : 

For 'tia the rustic boy'e delight, 

Now Autumn's aun BO warmly gleams, 

And theae ripe be1·riea tempt hie eight, 

To dabble in the shallow etream.e. 

And oft hie rambles we may trace, 

Delved in the mud his priutiug feet, 

Aud oft we meet a ~hubby face 

All stainM with the berriea aweet.

18 POJCKII OJ' llrATUlUL 

""l'lt lon'y now to tarn one 'It eye, 

The changing fl\ce ofhea.veo tc>111i:ucl1 

How thiri-spun elouda glida swiftly by 1 

. • 

While lul'king 1torma alow move beJa.i.Il 

Is toying with the shore, his wedded brid-.. 

And, in the f~lneaa of hia ma.rti&ge joy, 

He decorat.ea her t11.wny brow with ebella. 

Retires a. space to llt8 how fllir ahe lQOU, 

Then proud, n\11.8 up to k.i.s8 her. All is fa.ir- 

All gla.J, from gras~ to sun! Yet more I Jove 

Tha.n thia, the shriukin~ day, thataometimes comes 

ln Wiuter's front, so fa.tr 'mong its d~rk peers 

It seems a stragglt!r from the files of .Tune, 

Which in its wanderin~ bad lost ita wits, 

And half ita bea_uty; and, when it return'd, 

Fiuding its old companions gone away, 

It joiu\1 Novembe1·'s troop, then marching past; 

And a.o the fa'8.ll thing comes, and greeia the wol'ld 

With a thin orrt;y 11mile, thQn burata in teal'S, 

And all the whils it holds within ita hand . 

A few h&lf,wither'd flwoven. l _lo"'e and pity it! 

AL&x. S.aum

$1 

Suaolf of mista aud IX!ellow frultfulneaa! 

Olose bosom-ft·iend of the maturing &UA ; 

CoWlpiring with him how to load 1\nd bless 

Wtth fruit, theviues tbu.t round tbetbutch-ea.vearun 

To bend wit\1 appl~s the moJ:~s\1 cottag~:-treea, 

And fill all fruit with ripenea.1 to the cot·e ; 

To swell the lo(OUN.i, and plump the hazelahella 

With a sweet kernel ;"to aet bud.ling IXlore,. 

.And still more, htter flowers for tbe bee&, 

Uutil they think warm d.ays will never ceaee 1 

For au.mmer has o'e.r-brimm'd their c:Lunm_y ~ 

Who hath not aeen thee o~ beneath. thy llt

68 POIDI8 0., !U.TUU 

Tazu ia a boautifulapirit breatbiug now 

Its meUow ricbneaa on the clu8ter'd trees, 

And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, 

Pouring new jtlory on the Autumn woods, 

And dipping 1u wann light the pillar'd clouds. 

.Morn ou the mountain, like & auwmer bird, 

Lifte up her vurple wi.og, and in Ute vales 

The gentle w111d, a sweet)lnd pa.asionate wooe1, 

Kieaea the blushing leaf, and stirs up life 

Within the eolemn wood11 of aah deep-cri!Dllon'd, 

And silver beech, and m11.,Pie yellow-leaved, 

Where Autumn, like a fa.tnt old man, sits down 

By the w11yside a-weary. Through tbe trees 

The golden robin moves. The purple tioch, 

That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds, 

.A wint11r bird, comes witb it.l pl~ntive whistle, 

.And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud 

l'rom cottage roofa the Wlu·bliug blue-bird sings, 

And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke, 

SounJa from the threalililg-fioor the bu~y flail. 

L ONCIFRLLOW, 

TBE wiJJda breathe low ; the withering leaf 

Scarce whispers from tho tree, 

So gently llows the p!\rtiug breath 

When good men ceMe to be • 

.And now, abova the dews of night, 

The yellow st.'\r appe11rs ; 

So faith springs in the heart of those 

Whose eyea are oothed in tears. 

But soon the morning's happier light 

Its glory shall restore, 

And eyelids that nre seul'd in deuth 

SheJJ wake to close no more. 

l'uBUDT.

trlobrr. 

OaronB ekiee are miaty, cool &Dd gJ'I'Y, 

The stubble& emptied of their latest abeaf, 

The meadow of it. mound• ; a noble grief 

H.u beautified the wooda in their decay ; 

How many colours on the falling leaf 

Encurto.ining onr aolemn bills to~ay, 

Whoee afternoon ia huab'd n.nd wintry brier. 

Only a robin eloga from euy spray, 

A nd Night aendl up her pAle cold moon, and epille 

White millt around the hollows of the ·billa. 

Phantoms or firth or lake ; the peuant aeea 

His cot &Dd atackya.rd, with the homestead trees, 

In-ialauded ; but no vnio terr(lr thrill• 

Ria perfect harveeting ; he eleepe at eue. 

ALI.nfouAX. 

~ lnintct Jig~t. 

How beautiful t.bie night ! the balmiest eigh, 

Which vernal zephyrs breathe io evening'• eAr, 

Were discord to the apeaking quietude 

That wrap.'! this moveleBB aceue. Heaven's ebon vault, 

Studded with atara unutterably bright, 

Seems like a csnopy which love baa spread 

To curtain her sleeping world. Yon gentle hills, 

R obed in a garment of untTodden anow; 

Yon darksome rocks, whence ieiclea depend,- 

So etllinleee, that tbeJr white and glittering epiree 

Tinge uot the moon'a pure beam; yon CllBtled steep, 

Wl.aoee biWner bangeth o'er the time-worn tower 

So idly, that rapt {R.UCJ deemeth it 

A metaphor of peAce ; all rorm t. scene 

Where muaing solitude might love to lit\ 

Her aoul above thie sphere of earth lineae; 

Wbere eilenoe, uudiaLurb'd, might watch alone, 

So cold, eo bright, ao atill 

SJmr.t.n,

fimn Df 8int.tr. 

L.urr.T ('.nme Winter clothfd all in frieze, 

Chntt'rin!{ hi11 teeth for cold that dhl him chilli 

Whilst on Ins hoa.ry be:ml his bre."\th did freeze, 

And the d11ll drop8 that, frotn bis purpled bill, 

As from a limbeck, did a.down di~til: 

In his right hand a tippe.

l'OI:If8 OJ' JrA'rVJUE, 

71· 

And eome, as on tE'l!der wingv tbl'y glide , 

From their chilly birtb~l outi, dim a11d gray, 

Are join'J in their fall, llnrlaitle by aide 

Come clinging along their u"atea~ly wny: 

Ae friend with frien•l, or husband with wit;J, 

:Makes hand in hHnd the pMsnge of life, 

Each n1:tted fluke . 

Boon a inks in tbe dark but silent Jntro. 

Lo I while we are ,gazing, in 11wifter hiUite 

Stram down ' th·~ l!Dowa till the air ia white ; 

AlA myrinrla, by myriads. maeUy ehneed, 

They ding them!Jel'vetl from their shadowy height. 

The fair, frail crea1iurea of middle aky, 

What apeed they make with the gro.ve eo nigh : 

F1ako after i!ake, 

To lie in the dark nnd eiltnt lake I 

1 Me in thy gentle eyee a tear : 

They turn to me in sorrowful thought; 

Thon thinkeat of frit:n•la, the good nntl dear, 

Who were for a timt~, and now are not; 

Like thue fa.ir children of elou•l and frost, 

That glisten a moment and then are lost 1 

FlakE• after tlnlre 

'AJI'loat in the dark aud ailent l11ke._ 

Yet look again, for the clou•la divi,Je: 

A. gleam of blue on the w11ter liea; 

.And far away on the mountain aide 

A. sunbeam falls from lhe opening altiea. 

But the hurrying hoet that flew between 

The cloud and the water no more ia aeen : 

Flake' aftl'r flake 

At reef. in the darlr.>ind ailent lake. 

i:kc i~~~ 'Dlb ~dxr. 

TBz warm sun ie fniliing, the bMnk wind ia wailing, 

The bare bollghs nre sighing, the pale flowers nre dying, 

And th•~ year 

On the earth her dentb-bed 1 in a ahroud of lenvea dead, 

.I.e lying.

POJDIB 0, lU.TUJUI\. 

Come, montb11, come away, 

From November to M.ay, 

In your A&drleet array ; 

Follow the bier 

or the dead cold year, 

And like dim shadows watch by her ll'pulcbre. 

The chill rnin is f;Jling, the uipt worm ia crawling, 

The ri\'el'll are swelling, the thunder i11 knelling 

For the year ; 

The blithe swallo1f!l are ftown, and the lisarda each gone 

To hia dwelling ; 

Come, montba, come away; 

Put on white, blnclt~ and gray, 

Let your light aiatets plAy 

Ye, follow the Lier 

or the dead cold year, 

And make her grave f{reen with tear on tear. 

SRBI.Ld'. 

r!larla ~a6nt. 

THE point of one white star ia quivering still 

Deep in the orange light of widening morn, 

Beyoud the purple mouutains: through a chasm 

Ofwind-div1ded miat, the daJ'ker lako ' 

Beftects it. Now it wanes : it gleams agnin 

As the waves fade, and as the burning shreds 

Of woven cloud nnnvel in pale air : 

'Tia lost I and through yon peaks of cloud-like snow 

The roseate sunlight quivel'll: hear I not 

The .lEolian music of her aea-green plumes 

Winnowing the crimson dawn t 

SHELLEY. 

lfomhtg-iong. 

HARE: 1-huk ! tbe lark at heaven's gate ainga, 

And Pbrebus 'gina arise, 

Ria steeds to water at thoee !!pringa 

On chaliced ftowen that liea ; 

Al1d, winking, Mary-buds begin 

To ope their golden eye. ; 

With every thing tb.at pretty bin 1 

My lady sweet, arise ; 

Arise, arise I 

BRAltDIP£AR1

POI!lll! o.r lU.TUltlL 

t. 

Du hnd nwaken'd all tbinga that be, 

The lnrk, and the tbrn.sh, and the awallow free. 

And the milkmaid's aong, and the mower'a acythe. 

And the matin·beU, anrl the mountain bee: 

Fire-Jiies were queueh'd on the dewy corn. 

Glow-worms went out on the rivt:r'a brim; 

Like lamps which a student forgets to trim: 

The beetle forgot to wind hia horn 

The c1·icbta were still in the meaJow and hill: 

Like a Bock of rooks at. 11 farmer'a gun, 

Nigbt.'a dreams 8lld terrors, every one, 

Fled from the brains which are their prey, 

From the lamp's death \0 the morning ray. 

SlttLLET. 

n. 

Sn, the day begins to break, 

.And the light 11hoota like a streak 

Of eublle fire; the wind blow& cold 

While the morning doth unfold : 

Now the birds b

WHAT eonl waa his, wh~n, from the naked top 

or some boltl hea.Jl&n•l, be beheld th~ eon 

Riee up anol bathe the wotl•l in light 1 He look.'J 

Ocefto aut! earlb, the solirl fBme of earth, 

An•l ooe!ln's liquid mast~, beneath him lay 

In glAdnesa and tleep joy. The cloDll!l were touch'tl, 

A 111l in tht>ir silent faces could he reacl 

Unutterable love. Souuu neerled uone, · 

Nor any voice or joy; his 11pirit drank 

The spect.'\ch~; sensation, soul, aod form, 

All melted into him; they ewallow'clop 

Bie aoimal beiug; in them clid he live, 

And by them Jia be lh•e ; tl11l)' W"eTe his lite. 

In 11oeh access of minrl, iu euch high hour 

or vieitfttion, from the living God, 

Thoug't!t waa not; in enjoymeut. it expired. 

No thauk11 he breathetl, he preferr'd no request; 

RApt into atiJI communion that transcends 

The imperfer.t offices of prnyer and pr:~ise, 

His mind waa a thoksgiviog to the power 

That made him ! it wa3 bleuednesa Ancl Jo,•e I 

WuRt>SWORTB. 

1. 

IN 'custom'd glory bright, that morn the eon 

Roee, viaitiog the earth with light, and heat, 

And joy; and aeem'd as full of youth, anoll!trong 

To mount the ateeJl of heaven, ua wbl'n the st.ara 

Of morniug snng to hi~ firat Jnwn, anol nighe 

Fled from ftill face; the apncioue sky received 

Bim, blnshing :.s n ltriole when on her looks 

The bridegrooro ; nnrl, apretui out beneath his eyt>, 

EArth swile

Dried in his beams tbeir locka, wet with the drops 

Of night; and all the ao&a of ruWJic eung 

Their matin aong-from srl•our'd bowt>r the thrush 

Concerting with the l :~rk that hymn'd ou high. 

·on the green biU the ftoeka, anti iu the vale 

The h~rde, rejoiced ; aut!, li&bt of heart, the binll 

Eyed amorously the milkma1d &s ahe pua'd, 

Not beedleee, though abe look'd another wRy. 

l'ot.tmt, 

n. 

Wum'n Morning's come; and now, upon the plains 

And dietant mountains, where they feed their Bock!!, 

The happy•hepherds leave tbtir Lomely but&, 

And w1th their pipes proclnim the new-born day. 

The l~t.y awain comea with his weU·fill\1 acri.p 

Of healthful viande, which, when hunKer call.$ 1 

With much content Ami 11ppetite be eats, 

l'o follow in the field hi a dt\ily toil, 

.And dress the grnteful glebe tb:1t yields him fruita. 

The beaeta, t.be.t under the wnrru hedges slept, 

And weather\ ! out the cold blel\k night, are np•; 

And, looking towMds the ueilJhl•ouriug pnsturee, rai11e 

Their voice, and bid thch· ft!llow·brutes good-morro\v, 

Tbe ~heerful bird a, too, on the tops of trees, 

Aasemble all .iu choira; and with their notes 

Sahit.e and weleome up the r.i8ill& aun. 

0TIV4T. 

]ntl.obiu ol lfiorn'ing, 

:Btrr who the melodies of Morn ean tell1 

The wild brook babbling do"''D the n1ountain side; 

The lowing ht>rd; the aheepfohl'• simple Lell ; 

The pipe of early t~hepherrl, di m descried 

In the lone vnlley; echoillg far aud wide 

The clamorous horn along the clifte o.bove; 

The hollow munnur of the ocenn·tide; 

The hum of bees, the linnet's ll\y of love, 

And t.he full choir t.hat wakes the universal grove.

Tbe oottaae-onl'll at t>arly pilgrim bark; 

Crown'ii with her pail the tripping milkmaid ainga; 

The whistling ploughman atalka Afield ; and, hark ! 

Down'the t·ough slope the ponderol18 waggon rings; 

Through rustling corn the hAre astoniali'd apringa J 

Slow tolls the village-clock the drowsy hour ; 

The part1•idge burata away on whirring wings, 

Deep mourn11 the turtle in aeqoeater'd bower, 

And shrill lark ca.rola clear from her al!rinl tour. 

BU'l"''tt;, 

HAGGARD and chill, u a lcet ghcet, the Mol'D, 

With hair unbraided, and un.sandaH'd feet, 

Her colourleaa robe like a poor wandering BtDOk

l'OIQ(8 OJ' 1U.T178Jt. 

Or an air-disaolv6d alar 

Mingling light and fragnnce, far 

From the curved horizon's bound, 

Filla the overi!owi11g sky ; 

And the plains that aileot lie 

Underneath; the leaves unaodden 

Where the infant frost hRa trodden 

With his morning-winged feet, 

Whose bright print ia gleo.mlng yet; 

And the red and ~olden vine• 

Piercing with the1r trellie'd liRe& 

The rough, dark-skirted wildtrueaa; 

The dun aud bladed gra.aa no leu, 

Pointing fl'om this hoary tower 

In tho windless air; the Dower 

Glimmering at my feet ; the line 

Of the olive-sandall'd Appenine 

In the south dimly islanded; 

And the Alps, whose snows are spread 

High between the clouds and aWl; 

And of livin~ thiuga each one; 

And my apirtt which eo long 

Uarken'd thitt swift atreo.m of song, 

(nterpeuetraled lie, 

• 

By the glory of the sky. 

S.llli.LLRT. 

11 

C:bt .iunsd. 

fu walk'd along the pathway of a field, 

Which to the eut a hoar-wood abadow'd o'er, 

But to the west wl\8 open to the aky. 

There now the sun had auuk, but linea of goltl 

Hung on the Mhe.n clourls, aud on the pointe 

Of the far level grnss and nodding Bowers, 

And the old dandelion's bonry benrrl, 

And, mingled with tbe shades of twilight, lay 

On the brown m&Esy woods ; &nd in the enat 

The broad aud burning moon lingeringly rose 

Between the black trunk a or the crowded treea, 

While the faint atars w~re ga.~hering overhead. 

SB..KLLET.

S:loHig~. 

I I LOVE thee, Twilight! as thy shadowa rotJ, 

The calm of evening atea.la upon my aonl, 

Sublimely tender, solemnly 11erene, 

Still a.e the hour, enchanting a.e the scene, 

I )ove thee, Twilight I for thy gleama impart 

Their de11r 1 

their dying influence to my heart, 

Wbeu o'er the b11.rp of thought lhJ. pMiillg wind 

.A wakellB all tbe mu;~ic of the mind, 

And joy aud sorrow, aa the spirit burna, 

.And hope and memory a weep the cbort.!s b~ turns, 

While coutempl.•tion, on aer&phic winga, 

Mounts with the thwe of eacrifice, and sing~~. 

Twilight ! I loYe thee ; let thy glooms incre43e 1 

Till every f~eling, ev~ ry pul11e 1 

ia pea.oe. 

Slow from the airy the light or day declines, 

Clearer within, the d:twn of glory ehines, 

:Revealing, in the h uur of Nature's rest, 

A world of woo.tlers in the poet'• brenst; 

D eeper, 0 Twilight! then t hy shadows rolt, 

An awful viaion open• on my soul 

MO!i~XEBY. 

IT is the hour wben from the bougha 

Tbe uigbtingale'a high note ia beard ; 

It ia the hour wbeo Ioven' voWll 

Seem aweet in every wl1iaper'd wot'd; 

And geutle winds~~ond wnten uear, 

M:tke music to the lonely e&r. 

uch fiowrr the ,l .. wa have lighUy wet, 

And in the 11ky the l!t.'lr& are met, 

ADd on the wnve ia deeper blue, 

And on the leAf a browDer hue, 

And in the heaven that clear obeenre, 

So aoftly dnxk, nnd dArkly pure, 

Wbieh followe the rleeliue of day, 

AA twilight welta be.neath the moon away. 

Bno•.

. 

Coxz, Evening, once again, eeuou or peMe; 

Returu, sweet Evening, and continue long I 

M.ethiloke I Pee thee iu the streaky west, 

With matron atep slow ruoving, -while the Night. 

Treaols on thy sweeping train ; one ba.nd employ'd 

In Jetting fall the curtain of repoee 

On bird and beast, the other charged for man 

With aweet oblivion of the cares of de.y: 

Not sumptuously 1vlorn'ti, nor needing aid, 

Lib homely-featured Nil!h\ of clustering gema; 

A at.~r or two, just twinkling on thy brow, 

Suffices tbee ; Mve that the moon is thine, 

No leu than ht'n, not worn in tl~ed on hi~h 

W ith ostentatious pageantry, but aet 

With lDode~t grandeur in thy purple zone, 

Resplendent lesa, but or an ampler rouud. 

. CoWPU. 

Wsu eve ia purpling cliff and cue, 

Tboughta of the heart, how aof't ye tl"w I 

Not eofter on the west~rn wave 

The golden lines of aunaet glow. 

lJ. 

Tben e.ll by ehe.nce or fate remond, 

Like epirita, crowd upon the eye ; 

'I'lus few we liked, the one we loved, 

.Alld the whole heart ie memory: 

And life l.s like a fading 1lower, 

l t1 bea.uty dying aa we gaze ; 

Yet u the eb.adowa round uelowe!L __ 

Heaven P.Ot!D above a bright.er ~·

IJI. 

Ts:B sun is set; the swa.llows are aaleep , . 

The bats are fiitting fllo8t in the gray air ; 

The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep ; 

And evening's breath, wandering here and there 

Over tht> quivering surface of the stream, 

Wake.s not one ripple from its summer dream. 

There are no dews on the dry grass to-night, 

Nor damp within the shadow of the trees; 

The wind is intermitting, dry, and light; 

And in the inconstnnt motion of the breeze 

The dust and straws :u·e driven up and down, 

And whirl'd nbout the pavement of the town. 

The cha.am in which the sun ha.a sunk, is shut 

By darkest bo.I'l'iera of enormous cloud, 

Like mountain over mountain huddled-but 

Growiu~ and moving upwards in a ct·owd, 

.And over 1t a space of watery blue, 

Which the keen evening stur ia shining through. 

- SHELLEY. 

«gt 'b&ning Jont. 

SWJJET Evening hour ! sweet Evening hour I 

That calma the air and shuts the flower; 

That bribga the wild-bee to ita neat- 

The infant io its mother's brl!ast. 

Sweet hour I that bids the lAbourer cea.ae, 

That gives the weary team relea.se, 

.And leads them home, llnd crowns them there 

With rest and shelter, food aud care. 

0 seMon of sort sounds and hues, 

Of twilight walks among the dews; 

Of feelings calm and converse sweet, 

And tho1tghta too shadowy to repeat I 

Ye9, lovely hour! thou art the time 

Wben feelings flow and wishes climb; 

When timid souls be&in to dat·e, 

..And God receives ann answers prayer.

81 

Then, trembli~, through the dewy ekies, 

Look out the ata~ like thoughtful eyes 

Of angels, 'calm reclining there, 

And gazing on the world of care. 

Sweet hour I for heavenly musing made, 

When Ianac walk'tl and David prny'd ; 

Wben Abraham's offering God did own, 

And Jesus loved to be alone. 

AxoN. 

iqt 45fanirrg .ika-. 

0 Evlmmo grey! how oft ba-re I admired 

Thy airy tApestry, whose radiAnce fired 

The glowing minstrels ofthe olden time, 

Until their very souls fiow'd forth in rhyme I 

And I have listen'd till my spirit p-ew 

Familinr witb their deathless strains, and drew 

From the same souroe some pot'tion of the glow 

Which fill'd their spjrits, whe-n from earth below 

They soonu'd thy golden imagery. And I 

Have consecrated thee, bright Evening Sky, 

My fount of inspiration: and 1 fling 

My spirit on thy clouds-an offering 

To the great deity of dying day 

Who hath transfused o'er thee hls purple ray. 

JoHN BETHUNE. 

'hl ®btnittg 4:£anll. 

A OLOtiD lay cradled nel\l' the settiDg ann, 

A gleam of crimson tingen its braided snow: 

Long had I watch'd the glory moving on 

O'er the still rndiance of the lake below. 

Tranquil its spirit seem'd, and floated slow! 

Even in its very, motion there WRil rest: 

While every breath of wind that cbl\nced to blow 

Wa.fted the traveller to the beauteous west. 

Emblem, metbought, of the departed soul, 

To whose white robe the gleam of bliaa is given ; 

And by the breath of mercy made to roll 

Right onwards to the golden gates of heaven, 

Where, to the eye of faith 1 

it peaceful lies, 

And tells to man his glorious destinies. 

W n.so:lf. 

Q /

8! 

IJ.omaU.t. 

Boolf will the moon and all her atAn be here ; 

A. smiling light procl&ime her o'u yon hill ; 

Slo"IY abe raieee ap her radiant aphen, 

.And etillaea at her emile becomes more etilL 

My heart (orgeta all thoaftbt of human ill, 

And mnn setme ha~py AS h111 place of birth ; 

All tbingJ that YJehl him joy my spirit till 

With kindred joy ! and nen h.iat humblest mirth 

Seeme at thia peaceful hour to beautify the earth. 

WUBOlf. 

qc Baaing Jl'ocm. 

-A-'I"D like a dying lady, lean and pale, 

Who totters forlh 1 

wrapt. in a gaudy nil, 

Out of her chamber, led by the ineane 

And feeble wanderings of her faded brain, 

The moon aroee upon the murky earth, 

A. white and ahapeleea maaa. SBELL~rr. 

~o t~t lfo011'. 

0 MooJJ I old boughs liap forth a holier din 

Tbe while they feel thine airy feUo.,ehip. 

Thou doat bleea everywhere, with eil•er lip 

Kiaaing dead things to life. The lleeping kine, 

Coach'd in thy brightneea, dream offielo.la divine: 

Innumerable mollDtains rise, anrl riae 

.Ambitions for the hallowing of thine eyes; 

And yet thy benediction passetb not 

One obscore hiding-place, one little apot 

Where pleasare tDA'f be sent : the neat.ed wren 

BAS thy fair face Within ita tranquil ken, 

.And from beneath a sheltering ivy leaf 

Takes glimpeea oftbee; thou art a relief 

To the poor patient oyster, where it eleepe 

Within ita pearly boose :-The mighty deeps, 

The moru~trooa sea, i11 thine-the myriad fleA! 

0 Moon ! far apoomiog Ocean bo"• to thee, 

And TeiJoa feele her forehead'• cumbrous load 

KuTS.

Jofo btan:tifnl tht ~Utttt Df Y'tSbt. 

How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high 

Her way purtluing among aeatter'd cloudt, 

Where, ever and anon, her bend she shroudt, 

Hidden from view in dense obscurity. 

But look, and to the watchful eye 

A bright'ning edge will indicate, that soon 

We sbnll behold the struggling moon 

Break forth-again to walk the clear blue eky. 

WoRnewoaTa. 

~ !fxgqt 'itu. 

T!r& sky ia overcaat 

With a. continuous cloud of texture, ciOBe, 

Heavy, and wan, all whiten'd by the Moon, 

Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, 

A dull, contracted circle, yielding light 

So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, 

Chequering the ground-from rock, plant, tree, or 

tower. 

At length a pleaMnt, instantaneous gleam 

Startles the pensive traveller while 6e treads 

Ria lonesome path, with unobserving eye 

Bent earth wa.rde. He looks up-the clouds are split 

.Asunder, and above hie head he sees 

·The clenr Moon, and the glory of the heavens; 

There, in a black-blue vault, she sails along, 

.Follow'd by multitudes of start!, that, small, 

And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss 

Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel aw:~y, 

Yet vanish not !-The wind is in the tree, 

But they are silent ;-still they roll along 

Imrueasut"&bly distant; and the vault, 

Built round by thoee white clouds-enormous clouds, 

Still deepens ita unfathomable depth. 

At length the vision cloees; and the mind, 

Not undiatu1'b'd by the delight it feels, 

Which slowly settles into pe&ceful calm, 

Is left to muse upon the solemn scene. 

WoRoswoRT!I.

Tu crackling embers on the hearth are dead; 

The in-

PODS OJ' lU.TUIUL 

n. 

To Moon &hines white and silent 

On the mia~ whieh, like a tide 

or some enchanted ocean, 

O'er the wide marsh doth glide, 

Spreading its ghost-like billows 

Silently far and wide. 

A vague and etarry magic 

Maltes all things mysteries, 

And lures the earth's dumb apirl~ 

Up to the longipg skies,- 

! seem to hear dim whispers, 

And t.Temuloua repliea. 

The tire-tliea o'er the meadow 

In pulses co.me and go ; 

The elm-trees' heavy shadow 

W e~be on the grasa below ; 

And fawtly from the dilltaJlee 

The dreaming cock doth crow. 

All things look strange and mystic, 

The very bushes ewell, 

And take wild ebape9 and motions, 

As if beneath a lipell,- 

Tbey seem not the eame lilacs 

From childhood known 80 welL 

The snow of deepest silence 

O'er every thing doth fall, 

So beautiful and quiet, 

And yet 80 like a pall - 

As if all life were ended, 

And rest were come to aJ.l. 

0, wild and wondrous midnight, 

Tbne i.a a might in thee 

To make the cbarmM body 

Almost like spirit be, 

And ~ve it some faint glimpses 

Of IDlJllOrtality. 

, -

86 

'Tla Midnight : on the mountains bt'Own 

The cold round moon shines deeply down; 

Blue roll the watera, blue the aky 

Spreadalike an ooeail hung on high, 

Beapangled with those isles of light, 

So wildly, spiritually bright ; 

Who ever gazed upon tue~ shining 

And turn'd to earth without repining, 

Nor wiah'd for wings to flee away, 

Aud miX with their eterMI ray 1 

The waves on either shore lay there, 

Calm, clear, 11.nd Azure as the air ; 

And BC&rce their foam the pebbles shook, 

But murmur'd meekly ns the brook. 

The winde were pillow'd on the waves; 

The ba.nnera droop'd along their staves, 

And, aa they fell around them furling, 

Above them shone the crescent curling; 

And that deep silence waa unbroke, 

Sa.ve where the watch hie signal spoke; 

Save where the steed neigh'd oft and shrill, 

.ADd echo anawer'd from the hill, 

And the wild bum of that wild host 

Rustled like leaves from coast to eoaat., 

Aa rose the MuezziJl'a • voice in air 

In midnight i:All to wonted prayer. 

~~gt. 

Loox, the world'e comforter, with weary gait, 

His da.y's hot task baa ended in the west : 

The Owl, Night's b.'

PART IT. 

POEMS 

OP 

IMAGINATION AND FANOY. 

Tu Poet'• 0111, Ia a Aaetn.n•r toWnr, 

J:lolll &la.aCO llom be&Tell tO t&l'\b, from MJ()l 1.0 lle&YOD; 

And, u UO.OIJ'iA'nON boclleAI fortb 

Tbe Cormt of tblnst11Ukllo.,n, the pod't Jl')n 

'l'u.nlo them to tbapeo, and al•ee 10 .w,. n.otb!Dr 

A loc&lllallll&tlou aad • uamo. 

, Wbote baart 

TbtboJylbrmtorron.or I.m&I!DaUoou•• kept pure. 

WOIIDilrOIIt'IL 

.6.W&J' wflllWe&rf .... all4 tbtmatl 

8wtnr w1clo lilt mooullt r•t• ordrumA! 

l.e&nlhe once mo,.. tbolaod wblellt .. IDI 

Wlt.b wondon aud romaneeol 

Wilen thou, with cl•u dl..u-nlnr 01-. 

Shalt tlabtJT rud tbelnlth wblcllllee 

Beneath the q_nalblly-m&Ued piM 

OC wild all4 wla&rd J'lllldel.

l. ''\ [...

POE MS 

IMAGINATION AND FANCY. 

ll.tmnra of tbe ~maginaHO'If . 

0 BLI'.BT of heaven l whom not the languid aongt 

Of luxury, the siren I uot the bribee . 

Of sordid wealth, nor all the gaudy epoila 

Of pageaut honour, can aeduce to leave 

Thoae ever blooming sweets, which from the store 

or Nature fair imagination culls 

To charm the eoliven'd soul! 

What I though not all 

or mortal oft'epring ean attain the heightl 

or en•ied life; though only few poaseu 

Patrician treaaares or imperial s tate 1 

Yet N ature'a care, to all her children just, 

With richer treiLIIares and an ampler state, 

Endows llt large whatever happy man 

Will deign to Dlle them. Hie the city'e pomp, 

The r11ra.l honoara hie. Whate'er adorns 

The princely dome, the column and the arch, 

The breathing marbles and the Bclllptared gold, 

Beyond tho proud p01!86B8or'e narrow olaim 1 

His tuneful breiUit enjoys. For him the spring 

Dietils bar de,va, and from the silken gem 

Ita lucid leavea unfolds: for him the h:md . 

Or r.utYmn tingee every fertile branch 

With blooming gold and bhlBhee like the morn. 

Each pusing hour aheda tribute from her wingt i

90 POEKS 01' UU.GlNATlON AND FANCY, 

And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, 

And loves unfelt attract him. Not a brt:eze 

Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes 

The ~~etting sun's effulgence, not a attain 

From all the tenants of the warbliug shade 

.A.ecends, but whence hie bosom can p:1rta.ks 

Fresh pleasure, unreproved. Nor thence partakes 

Fresh pleasure only: for the attentive mind, 

By thill harmonious action on her powers, 

BllcOmes herself harmonious : wont so oft 

In outward things to meditate the charm 

Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home 

'J'o find a kindred order, to exert 

Within herself this elegance of love, 

This fair inspired deligllt: her temper'd powers 

Refine at length, and every passion wean 

A chaster, milder, more attractive mien. 

But if to ampler prospects, if to gaz11 

On Nature's form, where, negligent of all 

These le88er graces, she 888umes the port 

Of that eterllAl majesty that weigh'd 

The world's foundations ; if to these the mind 

Exalts her da.ri.Dg eye; then mightier far 

Will Le tile change, and nobler. Would the forms 

Of servile cu~>totu cramp her gtlnerous power ; 

Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth 

Of ignorance nod rapine, bow her down 

To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear 1 

I.o I she appeals to Nature, to the winds 

And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course, 

The elements and seasons : all declare 

For what the eternal Maker baa 01-d.ain'd 

The powera of man: we feel within ourselves 

Hie energy divine,: he tells the heart, 

He me:10t, he made 111 to behold and love 

What He beholds and loves, the general orb 

Of life and being ; to be great like Him, 

Beneficant and active. Thus the men 

Whom Nature's works Cl.l.ll charm, with God himself 

Hold converse: grow famil.ia.r day by day 

With his conception&, act upon biB plan, 

ADd form to hi.B the reliah of their souls. 

~8JllL

POlDl8 01" UU.GUfATlON AND !'.41fOY, 91 

It TBtNO of beauty ia a joy for ever: 

All loveliueBB increases; it will never 

PAU into nothingneaa ; but still will keep 

A bower quiet lt;>r us, and a. sleep 

Full of sweet dreams, 1\Ild health, And quiet bre~thiug. 

Therefore, on every morrow, &re we wreathing 

A Bowery ba.nd to bind us to the earth, 

Spite of despondence, of the inhumAn dearth 

Of noble natures, of the gloomy daya, 

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darken'd ways 

Made for our searching : yes, iu apite of aU, 

Some shape of beauty moves away the p&1l 

From our dark spirits. Such the auo, the moon, 

'l'reea old and young, sprouting a ah&

92 l'O:mrB OP UU.GUATlOtr A.YD J'Ucr; 

Os I it i.e pleasant with a heart at ease, 

Jus~ after sllllBet, or by moonlight akie~~t 

To make the shining clouds be what you pleaae, 

Or let the eaaUy persuaded eyes 

Own each quaint li1tene88 1 ii!Buing t'rom the mould 

Of a friend's fancy; or with head bent low 1 

And cheek aslant, 11ee rivera flow of gold 

'Twixt crimson banks; and then, a traveller, go 

From mount to mount through Cloudland 1 gorgeo1,1.9 

land! 

Or listening to the tide with cl*d sight, 

Be that blind bard who, on the Chinn strand, 

By those deep sounds poeaeBB'd with inward light>, 

Beheld the Diad and the OdyBBee 

Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea. 

CoLERioo& 

0 sweet Fancy I let her looee ; 

Summer's joys o.re spoilt by use, 

And the enjoying of the Spring 

"Fadeil 88 does ita blosaoming: 

.Autumn's red-lipp'd f'ruitllge too, 

Blushin~ through the mista aDd dew, 

Cloys With tllsting: What do then 1 

Sit thee by the ingle, when 

The sear ragot blazes bright, 

Spirit of a winter's night; 

When the sonndleBB earth is muftled, 

.And the eakM snow ia shuftled 

From the ploughboy's heavy ehoou; 

When the Night doth meet the Noon 

In a. dark couspiracy 

To banish Even from her sky. 

Sit thee th,re, &nd send abroad, 

With & mind self·overawed, 

Fancy, high·oom.misaion'd :-eend her I

fObS OJ' IJUGDi"ATION .AND •uar, 93 

She bas va.eaals to attend her : 

She will bring, in spite of frost, 

Beauties that the earth hath lo.t; 

She will bring thee, all together, 

All dolighta of summer wentber ; 

All the buds and bells of M.'ly, 

From dewy sward or thorny spray > 

A.Jl tho heapt!d Autumn's wealth, 

With a stilf mysterious etenlth ; 

She will mix. these pleasures up 

Like three fit wines in a cup. 

And thou shalt quaff' it :-thou ehAlt heM" 

Distant harvest-oa.rols clear ; 

Rustle of the reapad corn ; 

Sweet bi.rd.e anthemiug the morn ; 

And, in the same moment-h&rk I 

'Tis the early April lark, 

Or the rooks, with busy caw, 

Forr.ging for aticks and straw. 

Thou shalt, at one glance, behold 

The daisy and the marigold ; 

White-plumed lilies, and the first 

Hedge-grown primrose th"t hath bW'&t ; 

Sha.ded hyacinth, alway 

Snpphire queen of the mid-'Mliy, 

And every leaf, and every flower 

Pearl'd with the self-eame shower·. 

Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep 

Meagre from ita cel!M sleep ; 

And the snake all winter-thin 

Oaat on sunny bank its skin ; 

Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see 

Hatching in the hawthorn-tree, 

When the hen-bi.rd'a wing doth rest 

Q!Uet on bet· mossy neat; 

Then the hurry and alarm 

When the bee-hive casts ita swarm; 

Acorns ripe down·pattering, 

While tho Autumn. breezes sing. 

X BATS. 

II

10aas oF nuonu.nolf Atm r.A.Jrar. 

l'A.RT I. 

lT is an ancient Mariner, 

And he etoppeth one of t.ht'ee. 

"By thy long gray-~c&rd a.nd glittering eye, 

Now wherefore atopp'st thou met 

"The bridegroom's dool"'l are open wide, 

And I am next or kin ; 

The guests are me~ the feaat is set : 

H.a:y'et hear the merry din." 

He holds him with his skinny hand, 

"There wAS t. ship," quoth he. 

"Hold oft' I unhand me, gray-beard loon I" 

Eftaoons his hand dropt be. 

He holds him with his glittering eye 

The Wadding-Guest stood atill, 

And listens like a three· years' child : 

The Mariner hath hia will. 

The W edding-Guet~t eat on a atone : 

He cannot chooee but hear; 

.And thus epake on that ancient man, 

The bright-eyed Mariner. 

"The ship Wl\ll eheer'd, the harbour elear'd, 

Merrily did we drop 

Below the kirk. below the hill, 

Below the light-house top. 

"The eon came up upon the left, 

Out of the ee& e&me he I 

And he shone bright, and on the right 

Went down into the aea.. 

" Higher nnd higher every day, 

Till over the m011t at uoon "-- 

The Wedding-Guest here beat hie breast, 

For be he&l-d the loud baMOon.

The bride hath paeed into the hall, 

Red aa a rose ia abe : 

Nodding their heade, before her gOH 

The me1·ry minstrelsy. 

The Weddi.ng-Gaeat he beat his breaat, 

Yet he cannot chooge bat hear; 

And thus epalte on thnt ancient man, 

The bright-eyed MAriner. 

u And now the etorm-blaat came, and be 

Was tyrannous and strong : 

He struck with hie o'ertaking wi.nga, 

And chased us south along. 

"With eloping masts, and dipping prow, 

Aa who pursued with yell and blow 

St.ill treacle the shadow of his foe, 

And forward beude his bead, 

The ehip drove fa.at, loud roar'd the bla.t, 

And southward aye we fled. 

4 

And now there e;,.me both mist and snow, 

And it grew wondrous cold ; 

And ice mo.st.high came floa.ting by, 

As green as emerald. 

"And through the drills the anowy elifl.e 

Did send a dismal sheen : 

Nor ahape11 of men nor beaat.a we ken 

The ice wsa all be~ween. 

f< The iee was here, the ice was there, 

The ice wa.a all around: 

It c:rack'd and growl'u, and l'Oat''d and howl'd, 

Like noises in a swound I 

"At length did erosa an Albl\ti'088, 

Through the fog it came; 

As It hl\d been a . Christian soul, 

We bail'd it in God's name. 

''It ate the food it ne'er btul eat, 

And round and round it flew. 

The ice did split with o. thunder-lit; 

The helmsman eteer'd us through I

"And a good south wind spl'1111g up behind; 

The Albatrou did follow, 

And every day, for food or play, 

Ca.me to the marinet'8' hollo I 

"In mist or cloud, on m&Bt or shroud, 

It perch'd for vespers nine: 

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, 

Glimmer'd the white moon-ehine." 

"God save thee, ancient Mariner, 

From the fiends that ple.gne thee thus I 

Why Jook'st thou so ! " "With my cross-bow 

I shot the Albatt•oSB." • 

:PA..a'l'U. 

"Tn sun now rose upon the right : 

Out of the sea. came he, 

Still hid in mist, and on the left 

Went down into the sea. 

".And the good south wiorl still blew behind, 

.But no sweet birtl did follow, 

Nor any day for food or play, 

Came to the mariners' hollo I 

"And I bad done a. hellish thing, 

And it would work 'em wo ; 

For nil averr'd, I bad kill'd the bird 

Thnt made the breeze to blow. 

Ab wretch I said they, the bird to shy 

That made the breeze to blow I 

"Nor dim nor red, like God,s own heftd, 

The glorious sun uprist: 

Then all averr'd, I hl\d kill'd the bird 

That brought the fog and mist. 

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, 

l'hat l.Jring the fog and mitlt. 

"The f11,ir breeze blew, the white foam flt>w 1 

The fnrrow follow'd free; 

We were the finit that ever ba.rst. 

Into that silent sea..

l"'IUIS 0' UUOili.A.TlOlf .t.MD J'UCT, 97 

"Down dropt the breeze, the aile dropp'd down, 

'Twaa ad u aad could be; 

And we ditlspeak only to brer.k 

The ailence of t.he aer. I 

11 

All in a hot a.nd coppu aky, 

The bloody Sun, r.t noon, 

Rig_ht up above the mast did atand, 

No bigger than the Moon. 

41 

Day after dr.y, dt.y after day, 

We atuck:, nor breath nor motion; 

Aa idle aa a painted ship 

Upon a painted ocean. 

"Water, water, everywhere, 

And lill the boards did ahrink ; 

Water, water, everywhere, 

Nor any drop to drwk. 

u The very deep did rot ; 0 Cbl'iat r 

That ever thia ahould be ! 

Yea, alimy tbinga did crawl with legs 

Upon the alimy aea. 

11 

About, about, in reel and rout 

The death-fires danced at night ; 

The water, like a witch's oils, 

Burnt pen, and blue, and white. 

".Aud aome in drttama Ullured were 

Of the Spirit that plagued us ao : 

Nine fathom deep he had follow'd ua 

From the land of miat and anow. 

" And every tongue, through utter drought, 

Waa wither'd at the root; 

We could not apeak, no more thau if 

We had beeu choked with soot. 

"Ah I well-a-day ! what evil looks 

Had I from old atul young I 

lwlteall of the croas, the Albatrou 

About my neck was hung." 

II 

.,

98 I'OJDIS OJ' 11U.OI1UTI01J .tJro • .&lre'r. 

P.f.ILT UL 

n T'BE.RJI paaa'd a weary time. Each throat 

Waa parch'd, and gla.zed each eye, 

A weary time ! a we.ary time I 

How glued each weary e1e 

When, looki.Dg westward, 1 beheld 

A something.in the aky. 

"At lil'llt it aeem'd a' little speck. 

And then it seem'd a miat i 

It move!\ and moved, and took at' la.st 

A certain shape, I willt. 

"A speck, 111. miet, a ebape, t wist I 

And still it uea.r'dand neal''d : 

As if it dodged a watt!l'-41prite, 

It plunged and t.:lck.'d and veer'd. 

"With threats unalaked, with black liplJ halted, 

We could nor laugh nor wail ; 

Through utler drought all dnmb we stood I 

I bit my arm, t suck'd the blood, 

And cried, A ll&ill a 88.il ! 

"With throats uulllakeu, with black lip!! baketl., 

Agape they hfard me call : 

Gram ~rey ! they for joy did grin, 

Anrl all at once-their bre&th

".Alas I (thought I, and' my heart beat feud~ 

How fn.et she nears lfol&d De&r8 I 

Are those her aaile that gla'rloe in the Silo., 

Like reatleee ~meree f 

11 

.Are those her ribs through which the Sao 

Did peer, 111 through a grate f 

And is tbl\t woml\n all her crew I 

Ia that a Death f and are there two f 

la Death that woman's m.te t 

"Her lipe were red ~ ller looks were free, 

Her loeb were yellow aa gold : 

Her akin waa aa white aa leprosy, 

The Night-mare Life-in-Death wu abe, 

Who thiclts man's blood with cold. 

"The naked hulk alongside came, 

.And the twain were caating dice ; 

'The ~me ia done 1 I've won, I've won I' 

Quoth abe, and whittlee thrioa. 

fl The Son's rim

J()() 

1'0100 01' IlU.OllU'l'lON AlfD 'ABcr, 

"The eouls did from their bodiea lly, 

They Aed to bliu or woe I 

And every eonl, it paee'd me by, 

Like the whizz of my crou-bow I" 

l'AR'l' .(V. 

"I lri\.AJl thee, ancient :Mariner, 

I fear thy skinny hand I 

And thou art long, and lAnk. and bl'own, 

.A.a ia the ribb'd eea-aand. 

"I rear thee and thy glittering eye 1 

And thy skinny hancJ, 80 brown.'- 

" FeAl' not, fear not. thou Wedding-Gne8~ 

Thia body dropp'd uot down. 

" Alone, alone, all, all alone ! 

Alone on a wide wid'e sea ! 

Alld neve'!" a saint took pity on 

My soul in agony. 

"The many men, 80 beautiful ! 

And they all dead diJ lie : 

.A.Ld a thousand thousand slimy tbinga 

Llved on ; and ao did I . 

"I look'd upon the rotting eea, 

And drew ruy eyes away ; 

I look'd upon the rotting deck, 

And there the dead men lay. 

" I look\! to heaven, and tried to/.ray; 

But or eve'!" a prayer had gush' , 

A wicked whiaper came, and made 

My he&rt as

·POEMS OJ' IJUOINATlON AND 1'"-XaT. 

}OJ 

"The cold sweat melted from their limb., 

Nor rot nor reek did they 1 

The look with whieh they look'd on me 

Had never'pass'd away. 

".An orphan's curse would drag to bell 

A spirit from on high ; 

But oli I more horrible than that 

Ia the curse in a de!Ul m11.n's eye! 

Seven days, seven nigbte, I a&w that cures, 

And yet I could not die. 

"The moving Moou went up the sky, 

And nowhere did abide : 

Soflly 11he was going up, 

And o. star or two beside- 

"Her beams bemock'd the sultry main, 

Like April boar-frost spread ; 

But where the ship's huge abadow lrt.y, 

Tbe charm~ water burnt alway, 

A still and awful red, 

11 

Beyond the sba.dow of the ahip 

I watch'd the water-snakes: 

They moved in trncks ofshining white, 

And when they l'ear'd 1 the eltlah light 

Fell off in hoary flakes. 

" Within the-shadow of the ebip 

I watch'd their rich attire : 

Blue, glo!llly green, and velvet blrt.ck, 

They coil'd and swam ; and every track 

W a.a a tlaab of golden fire. 

" 0 ha]>PY living tbinga! no tougue 

Thetr beauty might declare : 

.A spring of Jove gueh'd from my heart, 

Ann I blesa'd them unawo.re: 

Sure my kind a&int took pity on me, 

And I ble!lll'd them unaw&re. 

'' Tbe self-same moment I could pray; 

And from my neck ao free 

The Albatrosa fell off, and Bll.nk 

Like lead into the sea."

l'AJI.f v, 

4 ' Oa sleep ! it is a gentle tbing, 

Beloved from pole to ,POle I 

To Mary Queen tbe prawe be given I 

She sent the gentle aleep from H94ve~, 

~t slid into my eoul. 

"The silly buckets on tbe deck, 

That bad eo long remain'd, 

I dreamt that they were fill'd 'With OMr) 

And when I awoke, it rain'd. 

"My lips were wet, my tbrua·t wu cQ]d, 

My g!U"lllents all we1·e dank ; 

Sure I bad drunken in my dr!!ama, 

And still my body drank. 

11 

I moved, anti oould nat feel my li~ba: 

I w~ so ligllt--almost . 

I thought that I had died in sl ~ ~p, 

And was a blessed ghost. · 

4 ' And soon I heard a roariug wiuJ : 

n did no~ come a-near; 

But with its aound it ahook the eails, 

That were so thin and sere. 

"The upper air burst into life! 

And a hundred fire-tlags sheen, 

To aud fro they were hurried about ! 

And to and fro, and in and out, 

The wan stars danced betwee1,1, 

I t And the coming wind did ro&r rt\OJ;I ~~4, 

And the eaila did aigh like sedge s 

And the rain pour'd down from o!l.e black cloud ; 

The Moon was at ita @dge. 

"The thick black cloud was aleft; and sti11 

The Moon was at its side ; 

!.ike waters ebot from some high era~, 

The li~btning fell with never a j~, 

A rner steep and wide. 

"The loud wind never re~'4 Uu.l•\1.4p. 

Yet now the ship moved on I 

Benea.th the lig}ltn.ing and tlt.e ]l.foo~ 

The dead men g~ve a. gr~

l'ODIB ·Ol' lliL6.0~.A.t'ION .A.ND :l'.tU!CY. 103 

"They groan'd, they atirt•'d, they all uproee, 

Nor ap&ke nor moved their eyes.; 

lt had been stra.:uge, even in a dream, 

To have seen thoBe dead men rise. 

"The helmsman steer'd, the ship moved on; 

Yet never a breeze up blew ; 

The mariners all 'g11.n work. the ropes, 

Where they were wont to do : 

They t·aiaed their limbs like lifeless 'tools 

We were a ghastly crew. 

"The bo

104. POD.S OF llKA.GllU..TIOl4 AlfD J'AlfCT. 

"Till noon we quietly a:UI'd on, 

Yet never a breeze did breathe : 

Slowly and smoothly went the ahip, 

Moved onw&Td from bene&th. 

11 

Uuder the ke.el nine fl\thom deep, 

From the larad of rui.at and mow, 

The epili.t alid :. and it waa he 

That made tlbe abip to go. 

The sails at no~>n left off their tune, 

And the abip• stood still also. 

11 

The Sun, right up above the maat, 

Had fix'd he1r to the OOe&n: 

But in a minute she 'gan stir, 

With & short. uneasy motion 

Backwnrda nnd forwards half her length 

With a abort; uneasy motion. 

"Then like a pawing horae let go, 

She made a Eaudden bound : 

It ftung tlte blo-od into my head, 

ADd I fell down in a ewound. 

"How long in ilhat same fit I lay, 

I have not t

l'O.DI8 o• UIAOIMATION UD J'AJIICT. 10~ 

PARTVl. 

Firat Voice. 

.. • But tell me, tell me I apeak again, 

Thy soft reapon11e renewing- 

What makes that ship drive on eo fa.tt.' 

What ia tbe ocean doing 1' 

Becolld Voice. 

" 1 Still as a slave before his lord, 

The oce:m hath no blast; 

Hie great briJtht eye most silently 

Up to the Moon ie east- 

.. 1 If he may know which way to go; 

For abe guides him smooth or grim. 

See, brother, see ! how graciously 

She looketb down on him.' 

Yint Voioe. 

"'But "hy drives on that ship 10 f&at 1 

Without or wave or wind 1 

Second Voioe, 

•• 'The air ie cut away before, 

.ADd closes from behind. 

u 'Fly, brother, fly ! more high, more high I 

Or we ehall be belated : 

F or slo" and alow that ship 'IViU go, 

When the Mariner's trance ia abated.' 

• I '!Voke, and we were BAiling on 

.As in 11. gentle weather : 

'Twu night, ealm night, the moon wu high ; 

The dead men stood together. 

"All etood together on the deok, 

For a chamel-

Jo06 

PODS OF UlAGUU.TIOK Al'!D J'AlfQr. 

"And now thia spell was 1oapt : once more 

I view'd the ocean green, 

And look'd fAr forth, yet liLtle saw 

or what hAd else been aeen- 

" Like one, that on .alooeaome road 

Doth walk m fear and dread, 

And having once tw'U'd rouud walka e~~, 

And turn11 no more hie head ; 

BecaW!e be knows, a frightf'ul1iend 

Doth close behind him tread. 

• Bnt soon i.bere breathed a wind on mel 

Nor sound nor mobion made: 

Ita path was not npou the sea, 

In ripple or in shade. 

" Jt raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek 

Like a meadow-gale of spring- 

It mi.neled strangely with my fean, 

Yet 1t felt like a weleomini· 

II Swift.ly, swiftly tlew tbe snip, 

Yet abe sa.il'd ao~ly too: 

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze 

On me alone it blew. 

" Oh! dream of joy ! is tbi.a indsed 

The ligbt-hoW!e top I see f 

Ie thia the hillf is this tho kirk 1 

le this mine own eountree t 

"We drifted tJ'e.r the harbow'-bar~ 

And I with sob.

1'01118 OJ' UU.OllU.1'lOif .UD J'U'flf. 1Q7 

"And the bay waa white with ailent light, 

Till rising from the same, 

Full many ahapea that ahadowa were, 

In crimson colours came. 

• A litUe diat&n.ee from the prcnr 

Thoee erimaOJl shadows were : 

I tum'd my ere• upon the deek 

Oh, Christ wba~ aaw I there I 

".Each oorae I.y fiat, lifeleu and fl.at, 

And, by the holy rood I 

A man all light, a aeraph·man. 

On every conte there aWoJ. 

"Thle ae-raph·band, each wand hia'haad; 

It wu a haaveniy light 1 

They etood aa eignN.a to the lmd, 

Each one a lovely light; 

"Thle aerapb-band, each waved h.ia bud, 

No voioe did tbey impart- 

No voioe; but obI the ellenoe I!Mllt 

Like m111ic on my b~art. 

"Bot aoon I heard the dash of 04111, 

I heard the Pilot's cheer; 

My head was turn'd ped"oroe &way, 

And I anw a boat appear. 

" The Pilot Uld tb. Pilot'a boy, 

I heard them coming ft.lt: 

Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy 

The de.d •en ClO'lld not blaat. 

"I aaw a ~itQ-I hevd \ia voice: 

It ia the Hermit good I 

He eingeth loud his godly hymne 

That be makes in the wood. 

He'll abrieve myaoul, he'll wuh •-7 

The Alba.tram'• blood. ..

108 PODS OF nU.OtlU.TJOlf J.lO) J'A.lfar. 

P4RT Vtl. 

"Tms Hermit good lives in that wood 

Which slopea down to the aea. 

How loudly hie sweet voice he rean I 

He loves to tAlk with m&rinerea 

That come from a far oountree. 

"He kneels 1\t morn, and noon, and ev& 

He hath a cushion. plump: 

It ie the m088 that wholly hidea 

The rottE-d old oak-stump. 

11 

The akitf-boat neu'd : I heiU'd them talk, 

• Why, tbia is atrange, I trow I 

Where are tboae ligbta, ao mAny and fair, 

That signAl made but now 1' 

"' Strl\nge, by my faith,' the Hermit said 

' .A.Jld they anawer'd not our cheer J 

The planb look warp'd, and eee theae A&ils, 

How thin they a re and aere I 

I nner aaw aught like to them, 

Unlcaa perchance it were 

11 ' Brown skeletons of leaves that lag 

My foJ:eBt-brook along; 

When the ivy-tod ia heavy with mow, 

And the owlet whoope to the wolf below, 

That eats the ehe-wolrs ynung.' 

"'Dear Lord I it hath a fisndiab look' 

(The Pilot made reply) 

'1 am a-fear'd.'- 1 

Po.ah on, pnah on I ' 

Said the Hermit cheerily. 

"The boa.t came closer to the ablp, 

Bd I nor spake nor atirr'd; 

The boat came eloee beneath the ehip, 

And straight a sound waa heard. 

"Under the water it rumbled 011, 

Still louder and more dread : 

It reaeh'd the ebip, it aplit the bay; 

The ahip went down like la&d.

o:Ja~S OJ' UlAOUU.'I'IOlf .&.1fD J'Ua't, 109 

"Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful eound, 

Which akr and ocean emote, 

Like one that hat.b been aeven dayt drun'd 

My body l.r.y atloat ; 

:But swift u dNama, myaelf I found 

Within the Pilot's boat. 

11 

Upon the whirl, where aunk the ahip, 

The boat apun rou.nd and round ; 

And all waa atill, aava that the hill 

Wu telling of the sound. 

• I moved my lips-the Pilot abriek'd 

And fell down in a fit ; 

Tbe holy Hermit raised hia e1ea, 

And pray'd where he did aat. 

"I took the oan: the Pilot.'a boy, 

Who now doth crazy go, 

Iat.ogh'd loud and long, a.nd all the while 

Ria eyea went to and fro. 

c ~ ba ! ' quoth he, • full plain I aee 

'Uae devil knows how to row.' 

11 

And now, all in my own countree, 

1 stood on the firm land I 

The Hermit stepp'd forth from t~e boat, 

And scarcely he could staud. 

"' 0 abrieve me, shrieve me, holy man I ' 

The Hermit croas'd hia br~w. 

'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee ur 

What mauner of mau art thou 1' 

11 

Forthwith thia fram-e of mine waa wrench'\! 

With " woful agony, 

Which forced me to begin my tale ; 

A.nd then it. len me free. 

" Since then, at an uncertain hour, 

That agony returna : 

And till my gha.stly tale is told, 

Tbia heart within me burna. 

"I pus, like night, from land to land 1 

1 have atrange power of speech; 

That moment that his face I see, 

I know the mnn tbat must hear me : 

To him my tale I teach.

110 !'OIDIB O'P' DU.OllU.'ftOJr Alm ...llfaY. 

"What loud uproar burwta from tba\ d~t l" 

"'The wedding-gnent are there :. 

Bat ia the garden-bower tbe bride 

A.ud bti de-maida singi.o& ue : 

A.u

POIIKB 01' llU.GJNA.TIOlf A1n> ~"'-110'1, 111 

O•a apea a mldalgbt dreary, while I poDder'd, w.Jr ad _,., 

Onr IOAli.J I qutat IDd emioa Yolam• or for,otten lo,.._ 

Wblle J nod.ded, near-ly aapplng, euddtnly there c:ame a tapplnc, 

Aa or eome one gently npplng, rapping at my etuomber--door. 

• 'T!a aomo 't'leltor," I multeted. "tapping at my chambtMoor- 

On11 tim, and nothing mol'l."' 

Ah I dtetlnotly T remember It wu ln the bleak Deoembe'l', 

And eaob uparale dying ember wrought lte gboet apon the11oor. 

E~rl~ l ..Uh'd the morrow ;-uiDiy l had _,bt to botrow 

Fnlm my boob - or eonvw-80ft'O" for tbe loet IADorel'or 

tb• ,...,.. ud r..Uant mtJden •bom the 1npl1 na- LtnoralfCDeleu 

ben ror ••-. 

And tbe tllbn 1011d uncertala rultftng or each porple eartaln 

Tbrlll'd me-ftll'd m• with faataatio terron nner felt btfon; 

8o that now, to etlll the bet.tlng of my beut, t elood nputtnc, 

"'Tit tome 1''-ltor entreatiDg eutorance at "'1 chamber-door 

Some lata •Wtor enbutlog entHDM at my chamber-door; 

Tbil it l.s, and nothiDJ more.. • 

Preeenlly my 110111 grew at'l'onger 1 healtatlng then no longt-r, 

"Sir," aald T, "01' mRdam, traly yoa.r fOrw!noeet I Implore 1 

Bl1t the tllet 11 I ••• ntlpplng, alld so gently 7011 oanM 'l'lpphrP,:, 

And 10 falnUy you came tapping. t.applng It IDY obamll4n-door, 

Tbdleoaree wuaare I beard yoo:"-bereJ OJK'D'd wide the door;- 

Darlm- there, and nothing men. 

D eep Into that dartn- pHriDg, long I atood there wonderiDg. tllarlog, 

Doublloc. cJre•mlng dre-. no martel ner dared to dream Wore; 

Bot the tilene. WN nnbronn, &lid tbe tlllln-pn DO tobn, 

.And the only wonl tben tpoloea wsa the wblaper'd word. "IAAore P ~ 

Thla 1 wblaper'd, a:nd an eobo munoor'd bt.ek the word, "Lenore I "- 

l .. rely tllil, and notbiDg more. 

Baclt Into I he chamber tumlniJ, all my eoul wiLIIIn mt bamlng, 

8ooo agal.n t beard a tapping aometblnglonder than belbre. 

,. Surely,• aald J, "fDtely \bat u. aometblng at my window lllttlce: 

L~ me tee. then, wllat thereat Is, and tl1la mystery •xplol'& 

Let my heart be atJll a moment. and thla myttery ~xplore;- 

'Til the wind, and notbl11g more. • 

Ope• liere l Gong the abutter, wlien. wltb "!Dany 1 flirt IIDd ftutler; 

[n tbere etepp'd • atately Raven of tbe aalntly d&ya ot yaH. 

Not tbe Je.ut obe~ante made be; not a mlnuteatopp'd or ltly'd-be; 

Bot, with mien of lord or lady, pereb'd abon my chambtJ'..dOIIrl'en:h'd 

upon a bwot of P nllae, Jo!lt a bon my ohltnbtl'doorhn:b'd, 

and •t. and notblng more. /

'lbeu tbll ebony bird beguiling my oad !bey Into IDlllin& 

By the gnn aDd atem decorum of the 001111tenuce It wore, 

"1bongl'ltby aatbeaboro and abann, thoa,~ r wd, "art llllft no~. 

GhuUy,ptm. &Dd &Ddea\ RanD, wanderlllg from the NlghUy abore. 

TeU me what thy lonUJ nJUDe Ia on the Night' a rtntoolall shore I" 

QIIOUl the Rann, "Neore1more. • 

Kuob I lllllrfcll'd tbla anptnly fowl to heat diJcoane eo ))llllnly. 

Tboagb Ita &IIIWer Utue me&Din

l'OIDUI OJ' DU.Gili.M'1011' UD J'UCT. 113 

• ~,,,. Mid r, " tblDg ot nn t-ptOpb« ltiU. If blr4 « denlt 

B,. w' Beano Ulat belldJ abon -111 &bat Ood we bcKb adoe. 

Tdl lhla 10111 wltb IIOtJ'OW bdeD, It wltbiJl the dlotut A.JdeDD. 

.lt aball otup a eaiDied maldua wbom &be 1o114elt oame LeDor. 

Ciup a rve a.Dd radlult maldeo wbom the &D4tll u-o ~nont • 

QQoth the Baveu, "Ne•.._,_• 

' ' Be Ulat word oa.r alp ofpartlag. bird or llead t• J abrtek.'d apatartlag 

" Get tbee back Into tbe t.empeat aad tbe Nl&bt't PlutoJll&D t bore I 

Lean DO black pluJDe U a toltOD of Ulat U.. tb1 tOW bath apol

lU 

PODS OJ' DU.OtlU.TIOlf AND J'.ANCT. 

And took ita own free ooune without a Clar9: 

.Amid the boughs did lute-tongued songsters throng, 

And the green valley throbb'd beneath their laya, 

While echo echo chased, through many a leafy maze. 

And shapes were there, like spirite of the fiowera, 

Sent down to see the Summer-beauties dreBB, 

And feed their ~ant moutba witllailver showers ; 

Their eyes peep'd out from m&TlJ' a green rece•, 

And their fair forma made light the thick·aet bowers ; 

The very flowers aeem'd eager to care99 

Such living sisters; and the boughe 1 long-leaved, 

Cluster'd to catch the eigha their pearl-ftash'd bosoms 

heaved. 

One through her long loose hair was backward peeping, 

Or throwing, with rai11ed arm, the locka Mide; 

.Another high a pile of ftowere wu heaping, 

Or looking love Mkance, and, when descried, 

Her coy glance on the bedded greeasward keeping; 

She pull'• I the ftowers to piece~> as she eigb'd;- 

Then blush'd like timid day-hreak when tlie dawn 

Looks crimson on the night, IUld then again 'a withdrawn. 

One 1 with her warm and milk-white arms outspread, 

On tip-toe tripp'd along n sun-lit glade; 

Half turo'd the matchless sculpture of her head, 

And ha.lf shook down her silken circling braid ; 

She eeem'd to float on air, eo light she aped; 

Her bnck-blown scarf an al'cbM rainbow m~de, 

She akimm'd the wavy flowers, as she p888'd by, 

With fair and print-like feet, like clouds along the sky. 

One eat alone within a sbady nook, 

With wild· wood songs tbe lazy hours beguiling; 

Or looking at her shadow in the brook, 

Trying to frown, then at the effort smiling 

Her laughing eyes mock'd enry serious look ; 

Twas as if Love stood at him.selheviling: 

She threw iu.ftowera, and watch'd them float away, 

Then at her beauty look'd, then sang a sweeter lay. 

Others on beds of roses lay reclined, 

The regal flowers athwart their full lips thro'lnl 1 

Aud in one fra.pnce both their sweets combined, 

As it they on the aelf.lame stem had gTown;

oDB oY nu.omATIOif 4ll1> 1'4lfoY. I I 6 

So close were roM ~md lip together twiDe!t, 

A double flower that from one bod bad blown, 

Till none could tell, ao sweetly were they blended, 

Wbere IWI!ll'd the enrYing lip, or where the rcee-bloom 

endtd. 

OnP, half-aaleep, cruahieg the twioM 1lowena, 

Upon a velvet alope like Dian lay; 

Still M " lark that 'mid the daiaiee cowera: 

Her loop'd-np t.nnic, toBS'd in disanay, 

Sbow'd rounded limbs too fair for e&rtbly bowen ; 

They look'd like roeea on a cloudy day, 

The w&rm white dull'd amid the colder green; 

Tbe fiowera too rongb a couoh that lovely ah&pe to sareen. 

Some lay like Thetis' nympha along tbe ahore, 

With ocean-pearl combiDg their golden loeb, 

ADd aingin$. to the wavea for evermore; 

Sinking like fiowera at eve beaide the ncb, 

II bot a aound above the mufled rOM 

or the low wa.vea waa beard. In little fiocb 

Others went trooping through the wooded alleyw, 

Their kirtles gl~Wcing white, like atreams ill .uuy vafleya. 

They were such form11 as, imaged in the night, 

Sail io our dream!l ac:ross the heavens' steep blue; 

When the closed lid sees virions streaming bright, 

1'oo beautiful to meet the na\ed view, 

Like faces rorm'd in clouds of" silver light. 

Women they were I auch aa the angels knew- 

Such Nl the Mammoth look'd on, ere be fted, 

Scared by tbe Ioven' wings, that etret.m'd in aaneet red. 

Mn.t.zR- 

~ !Jrtnm ni Dinttr t~111T9tb ta Spring. 

1 DRE.Al4'D that, aa I wander'd by the WilY 

&re Winter rnddenly was ohanged to Spring, 

And gentle odours l~d my atepa aatray, 

Mii'd with a sound or wa.te~ murmuring 

Along a shelving bank of turt', which l~y 

Under a. copee, and hardly dared to fting 

Ita green arroa round the bosom or the streamt 

But kiaa'd it 8Jld then fled, n.s Thou mightest m dream.

116 l'O.EU OJ' UU.Oll'I.A.riON A.IIID I'~OY. 

There s-rew pied wind-ftowere and violets, 

Dawnee 1 

tliose peul'd .Arcturi of the earth, 

The constellated ftower that neve1· seta ; 

Faint oxlips; tender blue-bella, at whoee birth 

The sod scarce .heaved; a.od that tall ftower that wets 

Ita mother's faoe with heaven-collected tears, 

When the low wind, ita playmate's voice, it bears. 

And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, 

Green cow-bind and the moonlight-colour'd May, 

And cberry-bloeaoms, and white-cups, whoae wine 

Waa the bright dew yet drain'd not by the day; 

And wild roses, and ivy serpentine 

With ita dark buds &nd leaves, wandering astray ; 

And flowers azure, black, and streak'd with gold, 

Fairer th&n &ny waken'd eyes behold. 

And nearer to the river's trembling edge 

There grow broad ftag.ftowcrs, purple prank.t with white., 

And stslTY river-buds among the sedge, 

Alld ftoa.Ung water-lilies, broad and bright, 

Which lit the oak that overhuntr the hedge 

With moonlight beams of tbetr own watery light ; 

And bulrushes, and reeJ.s of such deep green 

A. eoothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen. 

Metbonght that of these visionary dowers 

1 made a nosegay, bound in such a way 

That the same huea, which iJl their natural bowers 

'Veremingled or opposed, the like array 

K.,pt these impriaou'd children of the Houra 

Within my hand-&nd then, elate and gny, 

I haeten'd to the spot whence I had come, 

That 1 might there present it-O I to Whom 1 

Sam.~ETta 

f~.e c!Jais~. 

WtTB little here to do or see 

Of things that in the great world be, 

Daisy I again I talk to thee, 

For thou ut worthy; 

Thou unassuming Oomruon-place 

Of Nature, with that homely face, 

And :ret vt1tb something of a grace 

Which Love makes for thee I

POBliS OJ' IJU.GUIAT10lr .A1fD Pi.lfCT. 117 

Of\ on the dr.ppled turf' at eue 

I Bit and play with aimilea, 

Looee typea of thinga through all depN, 

T!iougbta of thy raising : 

And many a fond and idle name 

I give to thee, for praise or blame, 

As ill the humour of the game, 

While I &lfl gazing. 

A nun demure of lowly port ; 

Ot- eprightlymaideu of Love's court., 

In tby eimplieity the aport 

or all temptation• ; 

A queen in crown of ntbiea dreat; 

A etarveling in a acADo/ veat ; 

Are all. aa aeeme to autt thee beat, 

Thy appell~tioDB. 

A little cyclops, with one eye 

Stuing, to threaten and deCf, 

That thought comes next.-aud inat4ntly 

The freak is over, 

The ebape will vanish, IWd behold 

A silnr shield with boaa of gold, 

That spreada itaeff, some fairy bold 

In fight to cover! 

I eee tbee glittering from afar 

And then thou art a pretty etar; 

Not quite eo fair as nu10y are 

In heaven above thee I 

Yet like a. star, with glittering crest, 

&Jf-poiaed in air thou seem' at. to rest ; 

May peace come never to his nest 

Who sbu.U :reprove thee I 

Bright FlotDer I for by that name at last, 

When all my reveries are past, 

I call thee, and to that cle,.ve fast, 

Sweet silent crenture ! 

Tibat breath'st with rue in sun and ~lr, 

Do thou, as thou art wont, repair 

My heart with gladness, and a abare 

Of thy meek nature J 

W ORDBWOB.TH.

118 l'OlDIS OJ' UUGilf.A'I!lOlf .i.MD J' Ali'CY. 

Tmt sun is wum 1 

the sky is clear, 

The wavu are d:wciDg fast and bright, 

Blue iales and anowy mountains wear 

The purple noon's tran&jarent light: 

The breath of the moist air is light 

Around its une:q>anded buda ; 

Like many a Yoice of one delight, 

The winds', the bird&', the oetS&n-dooda', 

The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. 

I see the Deep's untrampled fioor 

With green and purple sea-weeds atrown : 

I see the waves upou the shore, 

Like light disaolved in star-showers, thrown: 

I sit upon the sands alone, 

The lightning of the noon-tide ocean 

Is il.a.sbing round me, nnd a tone 

Arises from ita measured motion, 

How sweet I did any heart now share in my emotion. 

Alas l I have nor hope nor health, 

Nor peace withiu uor calm nronnd, 

Nor thAt content aurpaseing wealth 

The sage iu meditation found, 

And walk'd with inward glory crown'd 

Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leituue. 

Others I see whom these IIUITound~ 

Smiling they live, a.nd call life pleMnre ; 

To me that cup baa been dealt in another measut·e. 

Yet now deepl.lir itaelfis mild, 

Even as the winds and waters are ; 

I could lie down like a tired child, 

And weep away the life of care 

Which I ~ve borne, and yet must bear, 

Till death like sleep might steal on me, 

.And I might feel in the warm air 

My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea 

""Brenthe o'er my dying brain ita l~t monotony. 

SHJSLLEY.

PODlll OJ' UUOINA'tiO!C ~:0 J'A.NC1', 119 

~ A!Uion. 

I Bl!AllD the dogs b&ri: in the moonlight night, 

And I went to the window to aee the eight ; 

AU the dead that ever I knew 

Going one by one, Md two by two. 

On they paee'd, ami on they paaa'd; 

Town '&-fellows all from tint to last ; 

Born in the moonlight of the lane, 

And queuch'd in the heavy shadow again. 

Scbool-matea marching as when we pla:r'u 

At soldiert one&-but now more at&id ; 

Thoee were the atrnngeat aighte to me 

Who were drown'd, I knew, in the awful aen. 

Straight a.ud hAndsome folk ; bent aud wenk too ; 

And some that I loved, and gup'd to apeak to; 

Some just buried a day or two, · 

And aome of whoee death 1 never knew. 

A long, long crowd-where each aeem'd lonely; 

.And yet of them all there wu ou,., one only 

That raised a l1ead or look'd my way, 

And she aeem'd to linger, but wight uot stay. 

How long einoe I saw that fa.ir pale face I 

Ab, mother dear I might I OGiy place 

My bead on thy brenat., a moment to rest, 

While thy hand on my tearful che~tk were preat! 

On, on, a moving bridge they made 

Aocrou the moon-stream from shade to ah&de: 

Young and old, and womeu and men; 

Ma:oy long-forgot, but remember'd then. 

And 6rat there oame a bitter laughter; 

And a sound of teare the moment a!tu; 

And then a music 10 lofty and gay, 

That every morning, day by day, 

I atrive to recall it If I ml\1.

120 l'OI!!Jl8 0!' IlUGUU.'l'ION AND :rAJilar, 

~n ~n.&orntian. 

Hua., sweet spirit, bear the spell, 

Lest n blacker ch11rm compel ! 

So 11hall the midnight. breezes swell 

With thy deep, long-lingering knell, 

And at evening evermore, 

In a chapel on the ahore 1 

Shall the chanters, sad and saintly, 

Yellow tapen burning faintly, 

Doleful maaeea cha.nt for thee, 

M.iaerere, Domine I 

Hark! the cadence dies away 

On the yellow moonlight sea : 

The boatmen rest their oars and say, 

Miserere, Domme l 

Cor&Rll>Glt. 

!Jitgt ttttrg biz 11 ipirlt-lfaibtn o&tt 1bt l!od ibillta. 

F&ED him with jonquils and anemones, 

With jasmines, myrtles, roaea where be lies ; 

Let o.ll your kieaea melt upon his mouth, 

.Balm-winds, fresh breathing from the tropic South 1 

Myrrh, C&!ISia, nutmeg-trees of Ceylon lave 

Him in yo11r odoun, fan him as ye wave, 

0 golden palma I and thou, wild tamarind-tree, 

Drool? thy long sprays, careu him balmily ; 

Ye crcmeon cactue-tlowers, that nimble bees 

Vainl_r "xplore, oppresa not his mild eyes ; 

0 sleep-diffusing poppies, ram not down 

Your heavy juice; nor, sable cypre!!8, frown 

On hiru t•eposing ; silver lime-tlowers, pour 

Faillt,·atarlike incena!Hiropa from your full stare ; 

Sweet pansies pillow him; thy pipe, 0 Pan, 

Blow with t\ mellow strain, thy syrinx blow; 

Our darling is delivet''d from hie woe, 

Freed from the he.te of love-regardleaa man, 

Our darling is not dead, he lie~b here, 

Where the blind 1 

groping earth-worm finds him not . 

.Aa water-liliea mourn the fading year, 

Fond hea.rte deplore him on the earth. No epot 

Defiles the crystal purent~aa of hia fame.

PomiS 01' nU.GINATlON AND J'A'IfCT. 

The efBoreacence of hie being blooma 

On earth, blooms splenditlly. Like May he came, 

Bowing rich beauty over dens and tombs, 

And rocky peaks and aolitudes. He sped 

Like a clear streamlet o'er ita jamred l>ed, 

ThAt by no torture can be hush'da.sleeJ» 

But poul:'8 in music h1111tening to the deep. 

Peace, peace, bewail him not with garla.nda sere, 

Ye .Autumn Months, his is no funeral bier. 

No pale dissolving Eiddon is he 

or that which wae, but never more llho.ll be ; 

Shelley, the Spirit, lives eternally I 

12l 

$11¥t!ba. 

So lay among the myrtles on the cliff; 

Above her glared the noon ; btneath, the sea, 

Upon the bright horizon Atbos' peak 

W elter'd in burning haze ; all airs W f'te dead ; 

The cicale slept among the ta~arisk's hair; 

The birds sat dumb and drooping. Far below 

The lazy sea-weed gliaten'd in the sun ; 

The lAzy sea--fowl dried their ·steaming wings; 

The lazy swell crept whispering up the ledge, 

And sank again. Great Pan waa1aid to rest; 

And Mother Earth watch'd by him as he alept, 

And huah'd her royri11d children for awhile. 

She Lry among tht~ myrtles on the cliff; 

And sigh'd for sleep, for sleep that would not hear, 

But left her to99ing still; for night and day 

A mighty hunger yearn'd within her heo.rt, 

Till all her veins ran fever; and her cheek, 

Her long thin hands, a.nd ivory-channell'd feet, 

Were wasted with the wasting of her aoul. 

Then peevishly 11he flung her on her faee 1 

And hid her eyeballs from the blinding glare, 

And finger'd at the graas, and tried to eool 

Her crisp bot lips against the crisp hot sward; 

And then she raised her hel)d, and upwnrd cast 

Wild looks from homeless eyell, whoee liquid light 

Gleam'd out between deep folds of blue-black hair, 

As gleatn twin lakes between the purple peaks 

Of deep Parnassus 1 

at the mournful moon. 

.. l

lili 

PODS OE llU.GDU.TIOM A!!D FANCY • 

.Beside her lay her lyre. She auatch'd the shell, 

And wa.ked wild muaic from ite silver strings; 

Then toas'd it sadly by.~" Ah, hush ! " she cries~ 

" Dea.d offspring of the tortoise o.od the mine I 

Why mock my discords with thine luu•moniea1 

Although a thrice-Olympi.ao lot be thine, 

Only to echo back in e\"ety tone 

The mooda of nobler natnrea than thine own." 

• • • • • • • • 

Klli'G6LE\". 

WBAr eaitb the river to the rushee grey, 

Rushes aadly bending, 

River slowly wendin§ 1 

Who can tell the whisper d things they say t 

Youth &nd time and manhood's prime 

For ever ever !ed away! 

Cast your wither'd garlands in the ltream, 

Low autumnal branches, 

Round the akilf tb.a.t launches 

Wavt>ring downward through the l.anda of dream. 

Ever, ever fied.away l 

This the burden, this the theme. 

W"ho.t sa.ith the river to the rushes grey, 

Rushes sadly bending, 

River slowly wending 1 

It is near the closing of the day. • 

Near the night. Life and light 

For ever eve,r fied away! 

Draw him tiJeward down; but not in haste. 

Mouldering daylight lingers; 

Night with her cold tingera 

Sprrnklea moonbeams on the dim sea--waste. 

Ever, ever fled away I 

Vainly cberish'd I vainly chAsed I 

What saitb the river to the ruoiliea ~ey, 

Ruahea a&rlly bending, 

River slowly wending 1 

Where in darkest gloom& his bed we lay, 

Up the eave moans the wave, 

For ever ever fted away I - Au.I.Noa..ur.

J'ODIB 01' JlUOlll.t.TlOlJ Al.~D .FAlllCT. 

U3 

cfnbl& il ~o6t's lnor(). 

Ou, never rudely will I blame thia faith 

Iu the might of a tara and angela ! 'Tia not merely 

The hu.mau being'• pride that people. apace 

With li!e and myaLie&l pre.lominance ; 

Since likewiae for the stricken heart of love 

Tbia visible ne.ture, and thia oommou world, 

h e.ll too narrow ; yea, a deeper import 

Lurb in the legent.l told my J.nfaot years 

Than liee upon that tTUtb we live to learn. 

For fable is love'• world, hia home, his birthpluce: 

Delightedly dwo~lls h.e 'mong fay .. and taliimaus, 

And 11pirit.e; and delightedly believes 

Divinities, being bim.eelf ill vine. 

The intelligible forma of ancient poeta, 

The fair h11ma.nitiea of old religion, 

The power the beauty, and the LO!ljeaty, 

Th11thad t&eir hnuot.e in dale, or piuy mountain, 

Or forest by slow stream, or peLbly 11priog, 

Or chaams ant.! watery depths; aU these have nuiah'J. 

They live no longer in the faith of reaaon I 

But atill the heart doth need a language, etill 

Doth the old inst~uct bring back the old names, 

And to yon starry world they now are gone, 

Spirit.a or goda, that uaed to ah.re this ear th 

With m:w aa with th~ir frieud; and to tbe lover, 

Youder they move, from yonder>vi..lible sky 

Shoot iuduence down : and enn at this day 

'Tis Jupiter who briu~e wb11te'er ia great, 

A.od Venue who brings every thing that's fair I 

Tran.al

\U l'OD(S OY nlAOtlU.TIO!II' &liD 7UCT, 

With voicee through the eloutl that sung, 

And brooding etorma that round ua bung. 

~lady, judge, iCjudge ye may, 

J:iow stern and ample,... the away 

Of themea like these wben darkDe. feU, 

And grey-hai.r'd aires the tale would tell I 

When doors were ban'd, and elder dame 

Plied at Ler taak betide the dame, 

That through the smoke and gloom alone 

On dim and umber'd facet shone- 

The bleat of mountain goat on high 1 

That from the cliff came quavering by; 

The echoing rock, the ruahiDg flood, 

The cat&nt.et'a awell, the mO&Ding wood ; 

The undefined and mingled ham 

Voi~ oft.he d-rt never dumb I 

All tb- have Ief\ within tbia lleart 

A feeling tongue can ne'er impart; 

A wilder'd and unearthly &.me, 

A.. aomething that's without a name. 

Hooo. 

'l:"'n mmic of an infant's feet 

Upon the floor, ia pueing aweet 

For Father'• heart and Mother's ear, 

A..a Angel chanting iu hie Sphere. 

How eof\ the featber'd warblers aing 

What time the primrose decks the Spring ; 

"'lU trne their lays breathe small of art, 

Yet they are freab from Nature's Heart. 

The ekylark ainga-" Bejoice I rejoice I " 

The robin pi pea with cheerful voice ; 

And the small wren joins in the tune, 

While amilee in Heaven the young May-moon. 

Theae vernal wal'blers all appear 

A..a h&rbingen of Summn near ; • 

Their notes, that faU like April abowen, 

Are Angel-music to the flowera.

.I!'OlDrl! Ol' UlAOUU.TIOlf UD l'UC!'. 126 

Not theirs the gnwd triumphAl chant 

Of Summer days, but still the,r pant 

W.itb music, and the inmost core 

or life with love flows o'er and o'er . 

.ADd thus the Fairy-music lalla 

On Earth from Heaven's effulgent halle; 

ADd thus, like drops of crimson rain, 

The Fairies troop to Eat·th again. 

They bleas the flowers and brida.l bil·da, 

And all the bleating flocks and herds ; 

ADd where they dwell more sweet the air, 

.ADd thrill'd with music soft and rare. 

Small seems it to the worldly great 

That Fairy land regains its state; 

Bnt simple children wake to song, 

Attended by the Fairy throng. 

And Foete wise again resume 

An empire over fields beatrewn 

With thoughts, that shape themselves as sweet 

As myrtle-groves, where Fairies meet. 

One draught from Nature's simple well, 

One thrill hom hearts with love that swell, 

One leaf from Nature's garden green, 

One elfin dance by maiden seen, 

One page from Nature's book divine, 

Beatow'd ft·om Heaven on men of Tiwe 1 

Bespeak the grand Auaonian years, 

Wherein .Apollo and his Peers, 

Enthroned, amid the rising Sun, 

ShAll make the vibrant horizon 

Resound with music tuneful-~rand, 

.And Earth be like their Mol'lWlg Land.. 

lLuuus. 

~ I

1 26 POICB OP' J)IAOTNATION A!ft> ?.A111CT, 

.faq iottp. 

l. 

CoME, follow, follow me, 

Ye fairy elves that be 

Light tripping o'er the green, 

Cotoe follow .Mab, your queen ; 

H1md in h&Dd we'll diUl~ around, 

For this place is fairy ground. 

When mortals are at rest, 

And snoring in their nest, 

Unheard and unespied 

Through the key-holes we do glide; 

OYer tables, stools, and shelves, 

We trip it with our £airy elves. 

Then o'er a mushroom'a head 

Our table-cloth we apread ; 

A grain ofryo or wheat 

The diet that we eat: 

PeMly drove of dew we drink, 

In acorn-cupe fill\l to the brink. 

The gra.sehopper, gnat, and tty, 

Serve for· our minstrelsy. 

Grace aai~ we danoe awhile, 

And so tlae time beguile ; 

And, if the moon doth hide bel' hekl, 

The glow-worm lights us home to bed. 

O'er tops of dewy grasa 

So nimbly do we pass, 

The youg a.lld tender stalk 

Ne'er bends wht>re W1l do walk; 

Yet in the morning may be aeen 

Wbere we the night before have been.. 

Slu.nsP&uu:, 

lL 

Tm: fairy beam upon you, 

The stArs to glisten on you ; 

A noon of light 

In the noon of night 

'l'ill the fire..dn.ke hath o'ergone you,

PO&llS OJ' IlUOilU'l10!f ~D ruCT. 127 

The wheel of fortune guide you, 

'l'he boy with tho bow beside you 

Run &ye in tho way 

Till the bird of d&y 

And the luckier lot betide yoa ! 

Ul. 

Smro no ten! 0 abed no tear I 

The tlower will bloom another year. 

Weep no more I 0 weep no more I 

Young buds alee)) in the root'• white core. 

Dry/onr eyes I 0 d ry your eyes I 

For waa taught in Paradi.ee 

To eaae my brua~ of melodie.-- 

Shed no*'". 

Overhe&d ! look onrhead I 

'Moog the bloesome white &nd red 

Look up, look op I I flutter now 

Ou thia fr!'!lh pomegrnnate bough. 

See me I 'tia tbia ei.fnry bill 

Ever cures the good tnAn'a ill. 

Shed no tear ! 0 abed no ~r ! 

The flower will bloom another year. 

Adieu, &dieu-1 tly--adieu ! 

1 vanish in the heaven's blue- 

Adieu, Adieu ! 

KEATS. 

~ Jakt anb a ~if! ~011t .imtg. 

A LAXZ a.nd a f&iry boat, 

To aail in the moonlight clear-. 

And merrily we would ftoa~ 

From the dngone that wetcb ua here ! 

Thy gown 11bould be snow-white silk ; 

And atriogs of orient pearls, 

Like goesamel"8 dipp'd in milk, 

Should twill& with thy l't\Ven CtJrls! 

Red rubies should deck thy luuu.la, 

And diamonds should be thy do~I" 

But f&iriee have broke their wanda, 

.Alid wishing has loat ite power. HooD.

.. ,. 

128 l'OIIJIS 01' UUQUf.u'IOlf .OW 'IAIJf!r. 

iong Df ~poll.a. 

I WILL teach you ho'l to blow 

A silver bOl'll 1 whose notes shall flow 

Like woodland eahoea fa.r below ; 

And I will teach you how to sing 

Sweet thoughts, like doves upon the wing ; 

ADd I for you from Heaven will bring 

The sacred pipe that ancient Pa~ 

Before E&rth's silver a~e began, 

A& parting gift beatow a on man 1 

And I will send thnt ancient aa~ 1 

Who dwelt in EJen'a Golden Age, 

And he shall ope that myatic page, 

Whose golden worda to golden aira 

Are set, like heavenly thoughts to prayers; 

And I will lead you up the stairs 

That wind from Heaven to Heaven, and ye 

Shall dwell for evermore with me, 

And sh&re my crown of melody. 

:Ja ~du !lnnu linns llmi. 

A BALLAD. 

" 0 W'RAT can ail thee, knight..at-arma, 

Alone, and palely loitering 1 

The sedge has witber'd from the lake, 

And no biru11 sing. 

11 

0 what can ail thee, knight..atrarms, 

So ba~gard and so woe-begooe 1 

The squ•rrel's granary is full; 

And the harvest's done. 

,; I see a lily on thy brow 

With anguish moist and feveNiew, 

And on thy cheeks a fading rose, 

Faet wither4!g too."

POml!l 07 IIU.ODfAT1011' An ~..uror, 

11 

I met a l&dy in the meada, 

Full beautiful-& faJ!ry'a child 

Her hair waa long, her foo~ wu iight, 

And her eyes were wild. 

11 

I mAde a garland for her head, 

And bn.celeta too, and fr~t zone ; 

She look'd at me as she did love, 

And made sweet moan. 

" I eet her on my pacing ateed, 

And nothing else saw aU day lon~t; 

For aideloog would she bend, and IIIJlg 

A f.a.&y'a aoog. 

" She found me roota of reliah .weet, 

And hooey wild, and manua dew J 

And IU1'$ in language atl'ange ahe lAid 

' I lon thee true I' 

"She took me to her eJ.Jin grot, 

And there abe wept, and aigh'd fullaore, 

And there I shut her wild wild eye. 

With .k.iaaea four. 

"ADd there abe lullM me asleep, 

And there I dream 'd-ah I woe betide I 

The lat.eat dream I ever dream'd 

On the cold hill'a aide. 

11 

I MW pale kings and priocee too, 

Pale warrion, death-J)&le were they all; 

They cried-r La Belle l>ame sana Merci 

Hath thee in thrall!' 

"I aaw their starved Ups in the gloom, 

With horrid warning, gaped wide ; 

And I awoke and found me here, 

On tbe cold hill'a side. 

11 

And this ia why I sojourn here, • 

Alone and palely loiterin~; 

Though the sedge is wither d from the lake, 

And no birds aillg.'' 

lU.l'l'B. 

X

130' PODIJ OJ' DU.OD!.l'l'JOlf .AJID J'AlfCI', 

~ Jnimb ~Pit! ba tbt ~kon. 

BT the ehore, a plot of ground 

Olipe a ruin'd cliapel roond, 

Buttreu'd with a grasey mound ; 

Where Day and Night and Day go b_~ 

And bring no touch or human eound. 

Waahing of the lonely aeaa, 

Shaking of the guardian trees, 

Piping of the salted breeze ; 

Day and Night and Day go by 

To the endleaa tune of theee. 

Or when, aa winde and watera k~p 

A hush more dead than any sleep, 

Still morns to stiller neninge creep. 

ADd Pay and Night and Day ge by • 

Here the silence ia m011t deep. 

The chapel-ruins, lapsed agala 

Into Nature's wide domaiu, 

Bow thell18elves with aeed and grain 

As Day and Night and Da.y go by; 

And hoard .Tune's sun and April'• rain. 

Here fresh funeral te&ra were shed ; 

Aud now, the graves are .leo dead ; 

And auckers f'rom the aah-tree spread, 

While Day and Night and Day go .by; 

.And 11tars move calmly overhead: .A:i.Lr.BGB.Alf. 

Jl,ubla )gttrr i Dl', ~ Bisiorc in a Jrtam. 

.tL n&G111Jm'l', 

b Xanadu did Kublo. Khii.Il 

A stately pleaauriHlome decree: 

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran 

Through caverns measnreleu to man, 

Down to a sunless sea. 

So ! twice five miles of fertile JlYOnnd, 

With walls and towers were ~1rd~d TOUUd: 

And there were gardena br1ght with ainuQua rill.s, 

Where bloasom'd lllAD.Y an inoe .. bearf:.DH.Uee; 

And here were foroata ancient lUI the hil1a, 

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

'PODll OP IJUOUIATION Alro J'UC1'. 1:11 

:But. oh I th11t deep romantic chum, which slanted 

Down tbe green bill, athw&rt a cedarn cover I 

A aavage place ! as holy and enchanted 

a& e'er beneath a waning moon wee httunted 

:By womanl wailing for her spirit-laver; 

And from ttu. ebal!m, with cea.seleu tunnoileeethmg, 

As if thla earth in fut thick pa.b.ta were breathing, 

A mighty foun\ain momently was forced; 

Amid whose awift h a.lf intermitted bunt 

Huge fl'll~ments, vaulted like rebounding h11.1l, 

Or chaffy grain beneath the threaber'a ftail: 

And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and l!Vllt, 

It flung up momenUy the aa~ r'it-et'. 

Five miles meandering, with a Wl\21)' mott~n, 

Through wood and dille the saCI'8d river r&n, 

Theu reach'd the ea vert18 meai!Ureleaa to ma.n, 

And aank in twnult to a lifeleu ocean ; 

And 'mid thia tumult Kubla heard fTom !Ar, 

Anceatral voices prophesying •ar'l 

The ehadow of the dome of pleuo..t'e 1 

Floated midway on the wavee; 

Where \lt'a.e beard the mingled meu~, 

From the fountain and the ct.Vea. 

It was a miraole of rare de vi~ 

A sunny pleasure-dome with ce.vea of ioe I 

A damsel with a dulcimer, 

In a. vision onoe I lAW: 

It wu an Abyaaini:an maid, 

And on her dulcimer abe play'd, 

Singing of Mount Abora.. 

Could I revin within me 

Her sympho~zy o.nd eo~ 

To eucb a deep delight twould win ue, 

That, with music loud IUI.d l011g, 

I would build that dome in air, 

Th.a.t eunny dome I t.hOilG cave~ of kle I 

And all who heard, should aee them there, 

And all should cry, Beware I Bewar. I 

His fu\abing eyes, his tloating hair I 

Weave a circle round him thrioe, 

And close you r eyes with holy dread, 

For be on honey-dew hath fed, 

And drunk the milk or Faudl.e. Oor..nmGK.

131 J'OXIIB 0., UUGDJ.ATIOJI £X!> .,.UC!'. 

'~' ~&nlllmrb «awimu. 

OBDA'n by thia hope ehe benda her thither; 

Still lAughs the radiant eye of heaven, 

Nor have the golden bowen of enn 

In the rich Weat begun to wither;- 

When, o'er the vale of BALBIIO wioging 

Slowly 1 abe sees a child at play, 

Among tbe roey wild·ilowers singing, 

AA roa1. and u wild u they ; 

Chaeing, wtth eager banda and eyea, 

The beAutiful blue damael-1liee, • 

That tlutter'd round the jasmine etema 

Like wingad ftowers or tlying gema : 

.And, near the boy wheA tired with play 

Now nestling 'mid the roeea hly, 

Sbe eaw a wearied man dismount 

From his hot steed, and on the brink 

Of a amaU imaret's rustic fount t 

Impatient tling him down to drink. 

Then lftl'if\ his haggard brow he turn'd 

To the fair child who fearleea sat, 

Though never yet hath day·biWD burn'd 

Upon a brow more fierce than that, 

Sulleoly fierce-a mixture dire, 

Like thtiJlder clouds of gloom and fire; 

In which the Put's eye could read 

Uark: tales of many a ruthleaa deed; 

The ruin'd maid-the shrine profaned 

Oatha broken-tUld the threshold etadn'd 

With blood of gueata I tkre written, all 

Black aa the dAmning drops that fall 

From the denouncing augel'a pen, 

Ere mercy wipes them out again. 

Yet tranquil now that man of crime 

{AI if the balmy evening time 

Soften'd bis spirit) look'd and lay, 

Watching the rosy inf&nt'e play: 

Though still, whene'er his eye by chance 

Fell on the boy's, ite lurid glance

'POEMB OJ' txAGil!A.TlOlJ .uti> PAll! CT. 133 

Met that unclouded joyous gaze, 

As torches that have bumt all night 

Through some impure and godleu rite, 

Encounter morning's glorioas rays. 

:But, hark I the vesper calla to prnyer, 

All slow the orb of daylight eeta, 

Is rising sweetly on the air 

From Snu.'s tbouaand minarets I • 

The boy has started from the bed 

Of tlowers, where he had laid hia head, 

And down upon the fragrant sod 

Kneels, with his foreli63d to the •ou~ 

Lisping the etemalname of God 

:E'rom Purity's own cherub mouth, 

.And looking, while his hands a.nd eyes 

Are liftM to the glowing akie~~, 

Like a stray babe of Paradise 

Just lighted on that liow'ry plain, 

And aeeking for ite home as-in. 

Oh! 'twas a aight-that heaven-that child 

A acene, which might have well beguiled 

Ev'n haughty Eblis of a sigh 

For glories foet and peace gone by I 

And now felt !uJ, the wretched mnn 

Reclining there-while memory ran 

O'el' mau,y a year of guilt and strife, 

Flew o'er the dark ftood of hia life, 

Nor foUDd one mnny resting-place, 

Nor brought him back one branch of graee. 

" There 'IIKU a time," he said in mild, 

He~~.rt-bumbled tones-" thou blesaed child I 

" When, young and haP.PY• pure as thou, 

"I look'd and pl'&y'd hke thee-but now--'' 

He hung his head-each nobler Aim, 

.Acd hope, and feeling, which had slept 

1'1~·:-:o~~ft~~·~~:e~=·~o~t:!.o£ rr."'.:~u:: ~ ':fi ~~.~~ 

~~:~~~~:~~;:.;~~~r:J.~~.r.:~=~~:: ~..:·~,~:·t~~~ll:~=~~'tho;; 

" "' •boot, In that ••l'l' place they ch.ance to ~nd on: b1110mac1J tbai .,hea a 

janallll&f1 .,bom yoo llaY81 pard yoll op and do'"' the elty, hoan the aotloo 

whlob.la ~.~. him rrom the otet.plea, ho wllltotn abo at, etanclatlll, and beckon 

"'lth h11 Mnd, I;) tellll'- ollotpllo motl ll.-.epaUencefi>r awhiJ

13-l fOJ:M.B OJ' UlAGIJI.t.TIOlf .t.l!D J'All~. 

From boyhood's hour, th&t instant came 

Fresh o'er him, and he wept-he wept I 

Bleat tea.re of aoul-felt penitence I 

In whose benign, redeeming tlow 

Is felt the-first, the only sense 

Of guiltleea joy that guilt CIIU know. 

• • • • • • • 

And now-beholct him knetJiing there 

By the child's aide, in humble prnyer, 

While the UAme sunbeam ahines upcm 

The guilty and the guiltlees one, 

And b1mna of joy proclaim through heaven 

The triumph of a soul forgiYen. 

'*aleiot. 

THB shades of nigbt were falling fast, 

A.JJ through a.u Alpine 'rillage ~'d 

A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ioo, 

A banner with the strange device, 

Excelsior! 

His \>row waa sad ; his eye beneath, 

Flash'd like a.laulchion from its sbeath, 

And like a silver clarion rung 

The accents of that unk.oown teAgue. 

Excelsior! 

In happy homes he saw the light 

Of household fires gleam 'lnU"lll &nd bright ; 

A.llove the epec'ral glaciers shone, 

But from his lipe escaped a groan, 

Excelsior! 

"Try not the PMB!,. the old man aaid;. 

"Dark lowers the tempest overhea.d, 

'D1e roaring torrent is deep aud wide I"' 

Bat loud that clarion voice repli.ed 

Excelaior I 

"0 stay," the tnaiden said, "and rest. 

Thy weary head upon this breaat I" 

A.. tear stood in his bright bl11e ey~ 

.But still be answer'd with a sigb, 

Excelsior I

I'O'DS OJ' DUGDr.4J'lOW ~ J'.A.JnW, 18& 

"Beware the pine-tre.'a witherld bnace J 

Beware the awful a"ftlanohel " 

Tbia wu the peuu~t's l111t Good-aigh~ J 

A voice reJil,ied, far up the height, 

Euelsiorl 

At break of day, as heavenward 

Tbe pious monka of Saint Bernard 

Utter'd the o~repeated prayer, 

A voice cried thro~gh tho atartled a[r, 

Excelsior! 

A traveller 1 by the faithful hound, 

lhlf-burie

136 POEKS OJ' DUOUU.TION .Alm J'AlfOT. 

At which the uniYereal hoet up eent 

A about that tore Hell'• concave, and beyond 

Frighted the reign of Cha.oe and old Night. 

All in a moment through the gloom were aeeo 

Ten tbouaand banners rise into the air 

With orient colours waving : with them rOle 

A. foreet huge or SJ?8ar& ; and thronging belma 

Appear'd, and aerned shield& in thick array 

Of depth immeasurable: anon they move 

In perfect phalanx to the DoriAn mood 

Of Butes and soft recorders; such aa rn.iaed 

To height of noblest temper herooe old 

Arming to battle ; and instead or rage 

Deliberate valour breathed firm and unmoved 

With dread of death to ftil{ht or foul retreat; 

Nor wanting power to mit1gate and 'auage 

With aolemn touches troubfed thoughts, and chaae 

Allg\lillh, and doubt, and feAr, and eorrow,•and pain, 

From mortal or immortal minda. Thue they, 

Breathing united force with fixM thought, 

Moved on in silence to eoft pipea, that oharm'd 

Their painful stepe o'er the burnt eoil : and now 

Advanced in view they ~t.and ; a horrid front 

Of dreadful length and dazzling anna, in guie& 

Of warriors old with order'd spenr and shield; 

Awaiting what command their mighty chief 

Had to impose : he through the annM files 

Darts hie experienced eye, and soon traverse 

The whole battalion views; their order due, 

Their visAges and stature ae of gods ; 

Their number last he soma. And now hie heart 

Distends with pride, and hard'ning in hie strength, 

Oloriee: for neYer, since created man, 

Met euch embodied force, as named with these 

Could merit more than that amall infantry 

Warr'd on by cranes; though &ll the giant bl'OOd 

Of Phlegra with the heroie race were join'd 

That fought at Thebes and Dium, on each si4e 

Mix'd with aux.ilia.r goda; and what reeoonda 

In fable or romance ofUther'a eon 

Begirt with British and .Armoric knights; 

And all who since, haJ>tized or intiJel, 

Jousted in .Aepramont or Montalban, 

J)amaaco, or Maroeco, or Trebisond, 

Or whom Bi.aerl.a sent from Afrio abore,

P01D(8 01' tKA.Gl.NATION AlfD I'Alfct'. 131 

When Charlemain with all biB peerage (ell 

By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond 

Compare of mortal proweas, yet obeerved 

Their dread commander; he aboYe the rest, 

In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 

Stood like a tower: his form bad not yet l01t 

.All her original brightness ; nor nppt:ar'd 

Leas than arch-angel ruin'd, and th exceu 

Of glory obecured ; as when the ann new rleen 

Looks th1•ough the horizontal miaty air 

Shorn ofble beams; or from behind the moon 

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight ahede 

On hall the nation, and with fear of change 

Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd eo, yet abone 

Above them all the A:rch-Angel ; but hia face 

Deep 8C&1'll of thunder had entrench'd, and eare 

Sat on hie faded cheek, but under broww 

or dauntleaa courage, and considerate pride 

Waiting revenge. 

MILTON. 

tgt Jaat Jllllt. 

ALL worldly shape!! shall melt in gloom, 

The Sun bimeelf must die, 

'Before this mortal shall aaaume 

Ite Immortality I 

I aaw a vision in my sleep, 

That gave my spirit strength to aweep 

.!.down the gulf of Time I 

I aaw the last of human roould 

That shall CreAtion's death behold, 

As Adam saw her prime! 

The Sun's eye had a eickly glare, 

The Earth with a~e was wan, 

The ekeletona of natwna were 

Around that lonely man I 

Some bad expired in fight 1 -the brands 

Still rusted in their bony llmda ; 

In plague and {amine some I 

Earth's citiee had no sound nor tread ; 

And ehipa were drifting with the dead 

To Bhorflll where all was dumb I

138 PO..S W IXAGtll~lr ~lfD J'UCT. 

Yet, ~e'-lilte. Uat lone one etood, 

W[th tlauntl~a worde and high. 

That ehook the eere l.eane from the wood 

Ae if r. .torm pue'd by, 

Sayi.Dg. " We are twins in death, pro11d Sclll, 

Thy face ia cold, thy nee ia run, 

'Tia Mercy bide thee go. 

For thou, ten tbo11.1and thouaand yean, 

Rut eeen the tide of bulliAn tears, 

That ehallno longer .dow. 

"What thongh beneath thee man put forth 

Hia pomp, hla pride, hi11 skill ; 

.And arts that made fire! ftoo

" T.hia apirit shall return to Him 

That gave ita heaorenly apark ; 

Yet thiDk not, Sun, it eball be dim 

When thou thyaelf ari dark I 

N~ I it ehall Jive again, and lhine 

l,u bli11 unkno.u to beam.e of thine, 

By Him reoall'd to breath, 

Wbo captive led captivity, 

Who robb'd tbe grave ofviotory, 

And took the sting from death I 

" Oo.J.. Sun, while Merey holds me up 

vn Nature's awful waste, 

To driuk this lAst a.nd bitter cup 

or grief that ma.n shall ta.ate- 

Go, tell the night that hides thy fuce, 

Thou aaw'st the !nat of Adam'• rae• 

On E!utb'e eepuJchral clod, 

The darkening universe defy 

To quench his Immort:J.!!_ty 1 

Or ahake hie trust in l.i0

l.tl\ 

PODS OJ' llrAGIFAT'IOW ,uro J'.!l!OT. 

The Wme811 or her ra.ee no tongue can tell! 

For abe tbe da11ghten of all women' a race, 

And angela eke, in beauty doth excel, 

Sparkled on her from Ood'a OWll gloriona face. 

.Alld moJ"e increased by her own goodly gnce, 

That it doth far exceed all human thought, 

Nor can on ean.h compared be to aught. 

SPDRR. 

l:ht ipirif'e 45pilogm in '011t11s. 

To the Ocean now I fly, 

And thoee happy climes tb~t lie 

Where day never abuts bia eye, 

Up in the broad fields of the aky: 

There I mck the liquid air 

All amidst the gardena fair 

Of Heaperna, and hia daughters three, 

That sing about the golden tl'ee : 

Along the crisp6d shades &nd bowen 

Revels the spruce and jocund Spring ; 

The Graeea, and the roay·boeom'd Houra, 

Thither all tbeu· bounties bring ; 

There eterniU enmmer dwella 1 

And west-winds, with musky wing, 

About the cedarn alleys fling 

Nard and Ouaia's bt1lmy smelJL 

Iris there with humid bow 

Watera the oclorous baob, that blow 

Flowera of more mingled hue 

Than her purfled ecarf can a hew, 

And drenChes with Elysian dew 

(Liat, mortals, if your eara be true), 

Beds of hyacinth and roeea, 

Where young Adonia oft repoaea, 

W &Xing well of his deep wound 

In slumber soft, and on the gronnd 

Sadly aitll the Aseyrian queen: 

Bnt far above in apangled sheen 

Celestial Cupid, her famed eon, advanced, 

Holda hia dear Psyche eweet entranced. 

A.fUl' her wandering lD.boun long, 

Till free consent the goda among

l'OJD(8 0~ JIU.GUU.TION AND ~JJf

Hi 

l'OIDD 01' DUfltlU.'l'tOlf £.1f1) P.\lfer, 

Hi~h enthroned in palaoe aolden 1 

Fa1rer Queen was ne'er behold.n J 

Men of every clime and aea 

Eend to her & reverent ~ 

Swell her train, aud about wi'h gl.. 

"God eave our Queen Moetno.ylle , .. 

All the A.rta the1 oall her Mother I 

Science, too-their younger brot.her 

Waita upon her, u a lover 

Doth around his mistreaa hover l 

Beauty, Order, Liberty, 

Environ Queen MnelllOIIyne! 

She inapiree their tmtry dutlf, 

Gives to every gnce new bean~: 

Wit and Fancy to her bring 

llany a votive offering ; 

The little birds on ~very tree, 

Praise the good .Mn.emocyne ! 

Bhe 1 u in a book 1 doth read 

Every thought and every deed ; 

Before her, as ~tn open scroll, 

Naked stands the liulnan eoal ,_ 

Trembling, fearing, hoping, aee 

It eupplietltea .Muemoeyne I 

Every heart :with grief o'erladen, 

Every love-diabracted maiden, 

Slavae who toil beneath the line, 

Wretchet who in dungeons pltle; 

A.ll to her for refoge il.ee, 

Powerlall{Dimoayne I 

Sin, aod Shame, D.Dd Miaery, 

All despairing souls that be, 

Own her power for good or m. 

Court her fnvou!!_ chead her will. 

A8 in a mirror, JJeatiny 

Redeota the great Mnemoeynel 

Mighty kings bow down to her~ 

Yea, and all that ever were, 

High, or low, or boud, or tree, 

Who hath empire wide as llhe 

Out of Time, beyond the Sea 

Sovereign Queen Mnemoayne t 

Saoaon:&.

PART III. 

POEMS 

01' 

REFLECTION AND SENTIMENT. 

0 DUM not mlcht U>ll •011411 ~ 

AJIIdle lit U>e Poet brlnp : 

Lei btJb Pl1Uooopb.1 oootTa£ Ia tUDODII t.be looel1 h1li.L 

Wo.-onL

POEMS 

01 

REFLECTION AND SENTIMENT. 

ebt tD ~ut11• 

8niuf Daughter oftbe V oice of God I 

0 Duty I if that name t.hou love 

Who art a light to guide, a rod 

To check t.he erring, and nprono ; 

Thou, lfhO art victory and law 

When empty terrors overawe; 

From TI.\Ln temptations doat set free ; 

And cal.m'et the we/U"Y strife of frail humanity I 

There are who ask not if thine eye 

Be on them ; who, in love and truth, 

Wh~re 110 IU.isginng is, rely 

Upon t.he genial se11ae of youth: 

Glad hea.rt.a without reproach or blot ; 

Who do tb,y work, and ltnow it not : 

Oh I if through confidence mispla~d 

They fail, thy saving tums, dread Power! aroUDd them cast. 

Serene will be our days and bright, 

And happy will our nature oo, 

When love is an unerring light, 

And joy ita own security. 

And they a bliasful courae may hold 

Even now, who, not. WlWi.sely bold, 

Live in the spirit of this creed; 

Yet seek thy firm support, according to thejr neeJ .• 

L /

146 POEllS OJ' llD'LBCl'tO!f Alfll 8Blll'l'DODI'l'. 

r, loving freedoJD, and untried ; 

No •port of every random gnat, 

Yet bemg to myeelf a guide, 

Too blindly have reposed my tru11t: 

And oft when in my heart was beard 

Thy timely m!Uldate, I deferr'd 

The t.aak, in 11moother walks to atray ; 

But Thee I now would serve more atric:tly, it I may. 

Through no distnTbance of my soul, 

Or strong compunction in me wrought, 

I supplicate for thy control; 

But in the quietlleas of thought: 

Me this uncbart.er'd freedom tiree ; 

I feel the weight of chance-deairea: 

My hopes no more must change their name, 

I long for a repoae that ever is the same. 

Stern Lawgiver I y11t thou doat weal' 

Tbe godhead's moat benignant grace ; 

Nor know we any thing ao fair 

As the smile upon thy face : 

Flowers laugb before Thee on their beds 

And fragrance in thy footing treads; 

Thou doat preserve the stars from wrong, 

And the moat ancient heavens, through Thee are lreeb alld 

strong. 

To humbler functions, awful Power I 

I call thee : I myeelf commend 

Unto thy guidance from this hour; 

Oh, let my weakne89 have an end I 

Give unto me, made lowly wise, 

The spirit of ael£-sacritice : 

The confidence of reiUion give, 

And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live I 

Wo!U>8WORTS. 

~ ,-Jt ~DJ!. 

MEN think it ie an awful si~ht 

To see a soul jUBt set adnft 

On that dt-ear voya.ge from wh088 night 

The ominous shadowa never lift;

Bot 'tis more a'W'fhl to behold 

A heJple1111 infant IM~wly bol"''l 1 

Wboee ltttle hnnda uneooeeioua hold 

The keya of darkneaa aud of morn. 

Mine held them once; I flung away 

Those keya that might ha.ve open eet 

The golden sluices of the da.y, 

But clutch the keys of darkne1111 yet; 

I hear the :reapm~ aingin« go 

Into God'a harvest; 1, that might 

With them have choeen 1 here below 

Grope shuddering at. the ga.te of night. 

0 glorious Yonth I t·hd once wut mine I 

0 high ideal! all in vain 

Y e enter at thie ruin'd shrine 

Whence worship ne'er ahall rile &gain ; 

The bat aud owl inhabit here, 

The anake rests in the attar-et.ocae, 

The sacred v-la mowder near, 

Th.e image of the God il gone. 

~ !l•alm of J'm. 

T.&LL me not, in mournful numbers, 

"Life ia but an empty dream I" 

For the soul ia dead that slumbers, 

And things are not wha.t they seem. 

Life ia real! Life ia eamest I 

And the grave ia not ita ga.l; 

"Dust thou art, to duat returneet," 

Waa not apokeo of the aonL 

Not enjoyment, and not ao1'1'0w 1 

Ia our deatined end or way; 

But to act, that each to-morrow 

Find na farther than to-day. 

Art is long, t\nd Time is fleeting. 

And our hearts, though at.out a.nd brave, 

Still, like mu.1Bed druma, are beating 

Funeral marches to the grue. 

"

In the world's broad field ofba.ttle, 

In the bivouac of Life, 

Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 

Be a hero in the strife l 

'!run no Future, howe'er ~leasant I 

Let the dead Past bury 1ta de:1d l 

Act,-act in the living Present l 

Heart within, and Gotl o'erhead ! 

Lives of great men all remind ue 

We can ma.ke our lives sublime, 

And, departing, leave behind ua 

Footprints in the sands of tiwe; 

FootP.rin~ that perhaps another, 

Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 

Some forlorn and ahlpwreck'd brothel', 

Seeing, shall take heart again. 

Let ua, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for auy fate ; 

Still achieving, still pu.l'8uing, 

LeJU'n to labour and to wait. LoNGFELLOW. 

~spirllti.ans l1f j1111f~. 

ur the mount of Glory ; 

BloRER, higher will we climb 

Tha our namt.>s m:~.y live through time 

In our country's story ; 

Happy, when her welfare calla, 

He who conquers, he who falls. 

Deeper, deeper let us toil 

In the mines of knowleJge ; 

Nature's wealth and learning's spoil, 

Win from aohool and college ; 

Delve we there for richer gema 

Than the stan of diadems. 

Ouward, onward will we preea 

Through the path of duty; 

Virtue is true happineea, 

Excellence true beaut}". 

Minds are of supernal buth, 

MAke we then a. heaven of earth.

l'QE)[S OJ' R:~ON A1'D 8h'l'IJoNT. 149 

Cloeer and c:loser then we knit 

Hearts and hand.e together, 

Where our ii.r'eaide comforts sit 

In the coldest weather: 

0 I they wn.Ja.der wide, who roam, 

For the joy11 of life, from home. 

Nearer, de&:J·er bands of lov·e 

Draw our souls ill uuion, 

To our Father's house above, 

To the saints' communion; 

Thither e\"el:'y hope ascend, 

There,may a,U our laboUJ'IJ end. 

&~gt Jam ~m. 

How happy 'is he born &nd taught, 

That-serv~•th not another's will; 

Wh011e armour is his honest thoul{ht, 

And simple truth his utm011t skalll 

Whose passions not his mastere are, 

Whose soutl is still prep~red for death, 

Untied unto the worldly care 

Of public fame or private brenth; 

"Who envies none that chance doth raise, 

Or vice; who never understood 

How deepest wound.e are given by pmiee ; 

Nor rules of etatt!, but rules c:tf goed ; 

Who hath hi13 life from rumoure freed, 

Whose coo.scieuce is his strong retre.t; 

Whose state •can neither tlatterere feed, 

Nor ruin make oppressors grllat ; 

Wbo God dof;h late and early pray, 

More of hiu grace than gifts to lend ; 

Ancl entertai1as the harmle88 day 

With a religious book or friend; 

This man is £reed from servile band.e 

Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; 

Lord of himsCllf, though not of lands ; 

And, having nothing, yet hath all 

WOTTON. 

/ 

"

Jn svottuuamru :Jib maa puUd b,, 

IT ia not growing lib a tree 

In bulk, doth make man better be ; 

Or standing like an oak three bU.Ddred year, 

To fall a log at laat, dJy, bald, t.Dd aear : 

A lily of a day 

Ia fairer far in May, 

Although it fall and die tb11t nigh~ 

It was tbe plant and tlover of Light I 

In amall proptiona we jnat beautiee '"; 

And in abort measures life ruay perfect be. 

B. J OlfSOif. 

«butatiml fk' ~ of* Jtatt. 

0 .roa the coming of tblit glorious tim~t 

Wben, prizing knowledge u her noblen "calth 

And beat protection, tbie imperial .Realm, 

While she exacts allegiance, ahall admit 

An obligation, on her part, to teach 

Tbem wno &re boru to atrve her and obey. 

Binding heraelf by 11tntute to secure 

For all the children whom her aoil maiuta.iua 

The rudiments of lettet'8, and iuform 

Tbe mind with moral and religious troth, 

Both undentood and practiaed,-eo that none, 

However destitute, be l t~ft to droop 

By timely colture unsuatain'd; or J'11.D 

Into a wild disorder ; or be forced 

To drudge through a weary life without the help 

or illtellectual implements and tool& j 

A eavage horde among the civilized, 

A aervile band among the lordly free I 

ThiaiACl'etl right, the lisping babe proclaima 

To be inherent in him, by Heaven'• will, 

For the protection of hie illnooenoe ; 

And the rude boy-who, haYing oTerpu~ 

Tbe ainl- age, by conscience i.e euroll'd, 

Yet mutinoualy knits his angry brow 

And lifts hia wilful hnud on mischief bent, 

Or turns the godlike faculty of apeech 

To impious uae-by proce89 indir ect 

DeclAiea hia due, while he m&kea known his need.

PODltl OJ' RZFLJt

162 POZXS OF RDLECl'lON 41fD SJ1:111'l.Km!T. 

And ahelter from the blast-in Vl\in we hope 

The tender plant should rear ita blooming head, 

Or yield the barveat promised in ita spring. 

Nor yet will every soil with eqn :~ l stores 

Repay the tiller's labour; or attend 

His will, obseqnioua, whether to prodnoe 

The olive or the laurel. Difrerent minds 

Incline to difrerent objects: one purauea 

The va&t alone, the wonderful, the wild; 

Another sighs for harmony, and grace, 

ADd gentlest beauty. Hence when lightning fires 

The arch of heaven, and thunders rook the ground ; 

When farioua whirlwinds rend the howling air, 

ADd ocean, groaning from his lowest berl, 

He& Yea his tempestuoue billows to the aky 

Amid the mighty uproar, while below 

The nations tremble, Shakespeare looks abroad 

From aome high clifranperior, and enjoya 

The elementaf WlU'. B11t Waller longs 

All on the margin of some Jlowery Btt-eam 

To apre&d hie

PODL8 OJ' IU!:J'LECTION .lln> 8DTDU.K1', 163 

Let all sweet flowers bloom in ita green retreats; 

Let enry wiltf-bird find sweet welcome there ; 

ADd every thiug that ebnl'efl the breathillg joy 

Of nnivei'8Al air and earth, be free 

Of thy well-ordered empire ; and inlay 

With precioua gem a, with diamond and white pearl, 

And blood-red ruby o.nd green emerald, 

The eumptuoua pavement till it ahinee a(ar 

Like the Apocalyptic shtine, whose walls 

Ofm8.88ive light from Eo.rth ll!ld Sun received 

All V1U7ing lustres, nnd rl.iffused their beams. 

Freaco ita inner walls with o.ll that Art 

E'er pictured of the Bellutiful, bat atill 

Let Nature freely come to aee that Art 

Hath rightly drawn her perfectlovelineea. 

Fill the grand balls with statues of old time. 

Let Godi and Demi-Gods and Heroes range 

W ith Goddeaeea and Graces. Let the Sainta 

And Seers and Sages, and the va.liant t.brong 

Of modern Heroes, and the ever young 

And ever tuneful Poets of all clime~, 

· And Bieropbants of all religion a, have 

Their place 11mong them, eome in silver carved, 

Some in the Parian ruarble, some in gold; 

Elich symboliziug that interior truth 

Or outward use he lived, tan~bt, acted, aung, 

Or aongbt to live, or act, or su1g, that men, 

Tired tiy that pure ideal, might become 

Gods, and the Earth a new-born Paradiae. 

Gather all booka within ita Libraries. 

Bid Greece awake through aU her words of fire, 

And Athena wear her violet crown again, 

And the seven cities plead for Homer dead. 

Let Marathon nnd Salm:nia come forth, 

Leuctra and Thermopylm, with all 

The hosts who fL1Ug their free lives on the pile 

Of patriotic virtue, or who cast 

The gage of battle to unnomber'd foes, 

And then redeem'd it, giving to the earth 

Their dast, their lives to the great mother-land, 

Their Spirits to the Hero-ho.ll$ above. 

Chant thou thy Epic, Homer; tell the tale 

Of Troy to modern hearts of living men. 

Bid Indi&. from her Sanscrit speak; let all 

The Vedas wide unroll their parchment gates~ 

,

1M 

POJ!Jl& 071 Bm'LECl'ION .U'O SEln'IHJL.'f'l'. 

Gather the wisdom of the Pyt1Uilida, 

The eecreta that Egyptian Hierophnnta 

Prnctiaed in crypta lllld cavena, which they veil'd 

In many a rite and symbol-none forget. 

Let every Nl\tion'e mind llllfolli ita thought, 

And every Sage depict the a tarry scheme ; 

And every Hero tell how once he.died; 

And every Poet sing, while Nature smiles 

To find her buried eras bloom anew. 

Forget not thine own time; give ~mple pla.ce 

To wisdom shower'd from he~ven, renewing earth. 

Let Dante sing from out his Middle Age ; 

Aud Machiavelli with hie subtle aldll 

Unveil the craft of tyranta; nor forget 

The richly-tlower'd muae of Oamoena; 

Or love-lays, bom of Europe's loyal be&Jt, 

Chanted by Troubadours in 1weet .Provence. 

Let manly Chaucer tre:ld hi» pilgrim round ; 

And Spenaer preach of heavenly chaatity ; 

Let Herbert almost like an Angel sing ; 

And Shakespeare in one panoramic aceiW 

Reveal life's aetu&l dram:~., clothing all 

His varied forms with living tltsh and blood, 

Giving to each a true authentic beo.rt, 

Whose arteries &nd veins l"Wl w11rm with love. 

Lilt the blind Psalmist of the Oommonwe&lth, 

Who look'd with inward sight where burna the sun 

Of apirit-ligbt o'er Eden of old time, 

In clM&ic English utter Ml his thought. 

Let .Byron pour from out hie burni.r.Jg mind 

The ~&eth.ing torrents of unreating aoul, 

The paeeion dreama of a wild fever\! heart, 

A world of rebel Genii, ain-&oclll'lled, 

Yet 11ching, hungering for divinity. 

Let Ke~~ta, the child Adonis, atand beside 

The waking figure of biB Grecian urn, 

Interpreting the meaning of all tears 

Shed by the Graces in enamour'd drea.ma 1 

Or smiles that drop from out the Suo-god's eyes, 

When muro is on the mountains, 11.nd the atara 

Olose their white buds and grow ioviaible. 

Let the lost Pleiad, Ob&tt.ertou, attune 

Ria harp in tbnt bright brotherhood o! aong; 

Let Wordswol'th dream of beav11n amid hia billa; 

And 01)leridge atir the heart as with a trump

"Blown by a young Arclwlgel; nor forget 

The living in thy re•erence for the dead. 

Make wide Valh&lla for the bet~r gOO. 

Than Thor and Oilin, ginn'- of you11g time ; 

Thy maeter-aingen, Germany, wboee name~ 

Sluill brighten like their lame till round the world 

The rainbow of their liriug thought hath grown. 

Oa.ther the ripe fruit of aU Sciences 

Until thy plenteoUI board gleams rich and rare 

With cllliter'd bra.ncbea of Heaptlrian gold. 

Let every Art ata.nd in ita perfeet form, 

And preach the gospel of inventiou to 

The eager intellect. "More Light I More Light I" 

Be thi.a thy motto; yoke the patient yean~ 

To plon'h the fallow·fielda ofHiatory 

For bnned treu1U'81, geme and precioua ooina 

And marblea, that ebnll come from out the dust 

To tell how beautiful Antiquity 

Sat on her ivory throne ; how look'd, how 1pake 

The hero-agee of departed time. 

Then, when thy mind grow• like the purple Eaat 

With dawn·tirea from the Sun of U,ht, go !ortb, 

And, in tlw.t rich IWd eminent doma.w, 

Gather together alliJWeet cba.ritiea, 

And bid them dwell with thee. In that fAir home 

Let Freedom rule, and, having won the world 

In win.oing ita tnw.scendent essence, ~ve 

Th&t world, thy heart, thy life away U1 lov .. 

Be thou like God, drinking His essence In, 

And clothing thyself with it aa the earth 

Attirea ita dainty limbs with emerald green. 

Aa young Desire seeks .Beauty, seek to gain 

Complete symmetrical development, 

That tbou IUI\y'st minister iu thingll of uae 

To all who seek the palace of thy miud. 

Give tl•y thought freely; give it modestly, 

Pntient of contl'o.diction. Think not wine 

The better because drawn or served by tbee. 

Force not the overftowing cup too long 

On him whom thou dost bonour,lest he grow 

Surcharged in brain and curse instel\d ofble811. 

Be modeat in thy opulence, and know 

This fact, that thou may'gt. learn & t.roth from all.

1 ~6 POIDl8 OJ' Jlln'L'ECTION .Aln> 8EIITUIRT. 

Take what thy brother offers thee; perchance 

The simplest nature may have woke to see 

.At eatly morn an Angel in the sun, 

.And brought from him great measage to thy aouL 

In all thou doest first of all be true 

To thine 0'11\'ll coneciousneaa, to man, to God. 

Jl.ulU& 

.AoAU I tread 

The walk, still verdnn~ under oaks and elrua, 

Whose outspre&d branches overarch the glade ; 

The roof, thou~rh moveable through all ita length, 

As the wind sways it, hae yet well sufficed, 

And, intercepting in their silent fall 

The frequent Sakes, baa kept a path for me. 

No noilile is here, or none that hinders thought. 

The redbreast waTblea still, but is content 

With slender notes, and more than half euppress'd : 

PleMed with billaolitucle, and ftitting light 

From spray to spray, where'er be re11ta he ababa 

Froru many a twig the pe~~dant drops of ice, 

That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. 

StillneBB accompanied with aonnchs so soft, 

Charms more than silence. Meditation heM 

May think dowtl hours to momenta. Here the heaf1, 

May give a usefulleBBOn to the bead, 

And learning wiser grow without his books. 

Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, 

Bave oft...timee no connection. Knowledge dwe11a 

In bends replete with thoughts of other men; 

Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. 

Knowledge, a rude, ouprofit.nble maes, 

The mere materials with which wisdom builrle, 

Till smooth'd, and squared, and fitted to ita place, 

Doea hut encumber whom it seems to enrich. 

Knowledge is proud that he biUI learn'd so much ; 

Wisdom is humble that he knoW'S no more. 

CoWPJtB.

thou be one whoee heart the holy forma 

or young imagination have kept pure, 

Stran~er l henceforth be warn'd ; and know that pride, 

Howe er disgui.aed in its own majeaty, 

Ia littleueae; that he who feel.a contempt 

For a.uy living t hing, hath f.aoultiea 

Which he ba.s never used; that thought with him 

Ia in its infancy. The man who.se eye 

Ia ever on himself, doth look on one, 

The least of Nature's works-one who might move 

The wise man to that acorn which wiadom holds 

Unlawful ever. 0 1 be wieer thou I 

Instructed that true knowledge leada to lov& 

True diguity abides with him alone 

Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, 

Can still audpeot, and still revere himaelf, 

In lowliness of heart. 

WOBDBWORTB. 

8Alt(T AUGUSTINE! well h118t thou eaid, 

That of our vices we can frame 

A ladder, if we will but tread 

Beneath our feet each deed of ahnme I 

AU common things, each day's events, 

That with the hour begiu and end ; 

011r pleaaurea and oar discontents 

Are rounds by which we may aaceod. 

The low desire, the base design, 

Tb11.t makes anotht!r's virt11es less : 

Tho revel of the ruddy wine, 

And all occasions of exceaa ; 

Tbe longing for ignoble things ; 

The et.rife for triumph more than truth ; 

The b11.r.lening of the heart that brings 

Irre\"erence for the d.relWl& of youth ;

Ui8 PODS 01' RD'LJ!OTIOl'l .&1m ~. 

All thoughta of ill, all evil deeds, 

That have their root in thoughta of ill ; 

Whatever hindere or impedes 

The action of the nobler will r 

All tb- must firet be trampled down 

Beneath our feet, if we would gain, 

Iu the bright field of .Fair Renown, 

The right of eminent domnin. 

We have not wings, we cannot &oaJ'; 

But we have feet to seale and climb 

By slow degrees, by more and more, 

The cloudy summiiAI of our time. 

The mighty py1'4mids of stone 

That wedge-like cleave the desert airt, 

When ne~r seen, and better known, 

Are but gigantic flighta ofatairs. 

The distant mountams that uprear 

Their frowning forehearla to the skies, 

Are croaa'd by pathways, th.n.t appear 

AB we to higher level.ll rise. 

The heights by great men reach'd and kept, 

Were not attain'd by sudden tlight; 

But they, while their companions slept, 

Were toiling upward in the night. 

Standing on what too long we bore 

With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, 

We may discern-unseen before- 

A path to higher destinies. 

Nor deem the irrevocable PASt 

AB wholly wasted, wholly vain, 

Tf, rising on iiAI wrecks, at last 

To something nobler we att&in. 

.Lowo:rm.ww.

t~e 8.oob' 6reaf ITatr. 

" How uldorn, Friend, a good great TOAD inherit. 

Honour or wealth, with nU his worth ud pailla I 

It eounda like stories from the lan!l or spirits, 

If any rnnn obtllin tho.t which he merits, 

Or any merit tho.t which he obtains.'' 

For shame, rlenr Friend I r(lnonnce this canting atra.in I 

What would'at thou have a goo1l great mnn obtain 1 

Place-titles-~~.alary, a gilded chain, 

Or throne of' corees "Which his sword hath eh~in 1- 

Greatne!lll and goodness are not meana, but ends I 

Ho.tb he not always treasures, always friends, 

The good great man1-lhree treaaurea-love, and light, 

And calm thoughts, regular as io(anVa bt"eath ; 

And three 6rru friends, more su.re than day and night 

Himself, hia Maker, and the angel Death. 

0oLDJllGE. 

4bn~l!l 6lari:u '&anuurd. 

So Wls, ao languishes, growa dim and diea, 

.All that thla world it proud of. fum their epheres 

The stare of human glory are caat down ; 

Perish the roeea and the 1lowen of kings, 

Princes, and ernpel'Or&_, and the crowns and palms 

Of all the mighty, witller'd ant! coueuroed I 

Nor i1 power l(iven to lowliest innooenet 

Long to protect her own. The man himself 

Dept~rta ; and 1oon ia spent the line of thoee 

Who, in the bodily image, in the mind, 

In heart or aoul, in station or pnranit 

Did moet resemble him. D~greea ana ranks, 

Fra.terni~ies and orders-heapiw• high 

New wealth upon the burtben o7the old, 

..And placing trust in privilege confirm'd 

.And re-conlirm'd-are I!COff'd at with a emile 

or greedy foretaste, from the secret stand 

Of Desolation o.im'd: to slow decline 

These yield, and these to sudden overthrow : 

Their virtue; aerric~, happinesa, and state 

Expire; and Nature'!! pfeaaaut robe of green, 

Humnnity'a appointed shroud, enwraps 

Their monuments and their memory. 

WoRDswOilTH.

160 l'OEK.S OJ' liXFLEOTION AND BJQITI:kE!n', 

8tittt ta ba&t fht l!ad'll Jtarl iqau !!ram 

B:mTER to have the poet's heart than brain, 

To feel than write; but better fa.r than both. 

To be on Earth a poem of God's making ; 

To have one's soul a leaf, on which God's pen 

In various ·words, as of triumphant music, 

That miogleth joy a.ud eorrow, aetteth lorth 

That out of d.vkneas be hath brought the light. 

To such perchance the poet's V()ice is given 

'J.'o tell the mighty tale to other worlds. 

MAoDolUU), 

;Jift's 6anlls, 

.As withereth the p1·imrose by the river, 

.As fadetb summer's sun from gliding fountains, 

.A.!! vanieheth the light-blown bubble ever, 

.As melteth snow upon the moBSy mountains; 

So melts, so vaniabetb, eo fades, so withers, 

The rose, the shine, the bubble, and the anow, 

Ofpr!:'ise, P.omp, ~lory, joy, which abort life ga~he"> 

Vam pra.tse, fatr pomp, sweet glory, bnttle JOY: 

The wither'd prhurose by the morning river, 

The faded auwmer's suo from weeping fountaine, 

The light-blown bubble ~anlahed for ever, 

The molten snow upon the mo!llly mountains, 

.Are emblems that the treasures we uplay 

Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. 

BoLTOK, 

¥Jnaerrt §us$ings mt 'ri~d~. 

So it falls out, 

That what we .have we prize not to the worth 

While we Clljoy it: but, being la.ck'd and loet, 

Why then we reck the value ; then we fuld 

The virtue that po!186!18ion would not show us 

While it was ours. 

Sa~

••• w tD trU • Jingbom it. 

MT mind to me a kingdom ia, 

Such perfect joy therein I fiDd, 

That it excela all other bU. 

That God or nature hath &Migo'd : 

Though much I need that mo.t would have, 

Yet still my mind forbidJI to erne. 

I aee that plenty surfeits oft, 

And hasty climbers sooneet fall ; 

I eee that such u are aloft, 

Mishap doth threaten mOlt of all : 

Tbeee get with toil, and keep with fear; 

Such c:area my mind can never bear. 

I pret~~ to bear no haughty away ; 

I wieh no more than may au11ioe; 

I do no more than well I may, 

Look what I want, my mind auppliea : 

Lo, thus I triumph like a king, 

My milld'a content with any tbing. 

I laugh not at another's 1011, 

Nor grudge not at another's gain ; 

No worldly waves my mind can toas; 

I brook what is another's bane : 

I fear no foe, nor f'a.wn on friend; 

I loathe not life, nor dread mine end. 

My wealth ia health IUld perfeet e&~e, 

And conscience clear my chief defence ; 

I never eeek by bribe& to pleuo, 

Nor by desert to give oft'enoe : 

Th111 do I live, thus will I die • 

Would all do eo u weU aa I I 

Bn.n. 

It b fbt Jlinb- tpi mafl.t1 tge ~oba ritq. 

IT i.a the mind that makes the body rich; 

And u the Btln breaks through the darkeat cloude, 

So honour peenth in the meaneat habit. 

What I is the jay more preciom than the hawk 

Beca.uae hi.a feathers ~ more beautiful t 

Or ia the adder better than the eel 

Becnme his painted skin contents the eye J 

8JUIJaii'JtAU 

X

Bwur t.re the tho~hta that u.Tour of oontent: 

The qui;et mind ia rieher than a crown: 

Sweet are the night. in oo.releu slumber apent : 

The poor esta.te ecorn.e Fortune's a.ogry frown. 

Such sweet content, such minda,aucb aleep, auch bli.aa, 

Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miaa. 

The homely house tht.t barboura quiet reat, 

The cottage that alforda no pride nor care, 

The mee.n, that 'greea with coautry muaic beat, 

The sweet coUBort of mirth's and music's fare. 

Obscured life sets down a type of blias ; 

A mind content both crown and kiDgdom ia. 

GRUm'- 

ll!c Jam•n· 

H& is the Happy Man, whose life e'en now 

Shows somewhat of that happier life to come¢ 

Who, doom'd to an ob!!Klure but tranquU state, 

Ia pleased with it, and, were he f1·ee to choose, 

Would make his fate his choice; whom peace, th fruit 

Of virtue, and whom virtue, fruit of faith, 

Prepare for bappineM; bespeak him one 

Content indeed to sojourn while be must 

Below the akiea, but having there hia home. 

The world o'erlook.a him in her busy aearch 

Of objects, more illuatrioustn beT view; 

And, occupied as earnestly aa she, 

Though more sublimely, he o'erlooks the world. 

She BCOrns his pleasures, for she knows them not ; 

· He seeka not her's for he has proved them vain. 

He cannot akim thl'l ground like summer birds 

Pursuing gilded 1lies; and such he deem~~ 

Her honours, he.r emoluments, her joys. 

Therefore in contemplAtion is his bliss, 

Whose power i.e such, tha.t whom she lifts from earth 

She makes familiar with a world unseen, 

.AJ!d ahows h.iw gloritlll yet to 1e reveal' d. 

CoWl'.&R.

Wa~ are the aw&llo1n1 811d t 

Frozen t.nd dead, 

Perchance nrm some bleak and atol'II)y aho:re. 

0 doubtllli heart I 

Far over purple aeu, 

They wait in SI1Dll}' eue, 

The balmy so-athern breeze, 

To bring them to their northern home once more. 

Why must the ftowen die 1 

Priaon'd they lie 

In the cold tomb, heedleas of teton or rain.. 

0 doubting heart I 

They only aleep below 

The soft white ermine snow 

While winter winds shall blow, 

To breathe and &IJl,ile u~ you aoo~ again. 

The aun baa hid ita rnys 

Theae many days j 

Will dreary bonl'A never leave the aiU'th I 

0 doubting heart I 

The stormy elouda on high 

Veil the aame sunny aky 

Tb&t soon-for spring is nigh- 

Shall wake the summer into golden mirth. 

Fair hope ia dead, and light 

Is quench'd in night ; 

What sound can break the ailance of despair 1 

0 doubtinr h~! 

Tlie s~ ia overcut, 

Yet atars shall rise at last, 

Brighter (or dukneae past, 

And angell' aUver voioea stir the air. 

A.l>tt.UI)lll A. l'aOCl't.IL

1M 

roDS OJ' B.ULJ:C1'10!1 .UD IS'DTDilDfT• 

A OJUD without a p~, void, dark, and drear, 

A stifted,.drow6Y, UUlDlputlion'd gl'icf, 

Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, 

In word, or sigh, or tear-- 

0 lAdy I ~ thia wan and heartleu mood, 

To other tholl!!.hts by yonder throatle woo'd, 

AU thia long eve, so balmy and serene, 

Have I been gazing on the western aky, 

And ite peeulia.r tint of yellow green : 

And still I gaze-and with how blank an eye I 

And tboee thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, 

That give away their motion to the etara; 

Thoee alan, that glide behind them or between, 

Now sparkling, now bedimm'dt b.~t &lwaye seen: 

Yon ereacent Moon ae fix'd ae 1f 1t gt"ew 

In ita own cloudleu, etarleaa lake of blue ; 

I eee them &11 so excellently fair, 

I aee, not feel how beautiful they are 1 

My genial spirits fail ; 

And what ea.n these avail 

To lift the smothering weight !rom off my breast 1 

It were a vain endeavour, 

Though I should gaze for ever 

On that green light thAt lingers in the west: 

I may not hope from outward forme to win 

The passion and the li!e, whoee fount&i.na &re within. 

0 Lady I we receive but wh&t we ~ve, 

And in our life alone does nature liYe: 

Ours ia her wedding-garment, ours her shroud l 

And would we aught behold, of higher worth, 

Than that inanimate cold world allow'd 

To the poor loveless, evel'-&nxioua crowd, 

Ah I from the aoul iteelf mullt iaaue forth, 

A light, a glory, a il\ir luminoua cloud 

Enveloping the Earth- 

And from the soul itllelf must there be sent 

A sweet &nd potent voice, or its own birth, 

Of all sweet sounds the life and elemeut I

PODS OJ' BD'LZC'l'lOlf Aim RN'l'UDUIT.· 160 

0 pure of heart ! . thou need'at not aai: of me 

What. thia ltrong muaic in the aoul may be ! 

Wbat, and wherein it doth exiat, 

Thia light, thu glory, this fair luminous mist, 

Thia beautiful and beauty-malting power. 

Joy, virtuous L&dy I Joy that ne'er wu given, 

Save to the pure, and in their purest hour 

Life, and Life'a effiuence, cloud at once e.nd ahower, 

Joy 1 

L&dy! i.e the epirit and the power 

Wb1ch wedding Nature to ua gives in dower, 

A new Ee.rth and Ue'l" Heaven, 

Undreamt of by the sensual 3nd the proud 

J oy ie the aweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud 

We in ourselves rejoice! 

And thence ilowa all that ch&l'IDS or ear or sight, 

All melodiea the echoes of that voice, 

All coloun a auft'uaion from that light. 

CoL'&lllDG.& 

l:inu anh «:llqt. 

REVOLU'J'IOlfB a weep 

O'er earth, like troubled visions o'er the breaat 

Of dreaming sorrow ; cities rise and sink, 

Like bubbles on the water; fiery i.alea 

Spring blazing from the ocean, and go back 

To their mysterious caverns; mounto.ina rear 

To heaven their b&ld and blaoken'd cli.J!'a, and bow 

Their tall beada to the plain; new empires ri.ae, 

Gt.thering the atl'ength of hoary centuriee, 

And ruell down like the Alpine avalanche, 

Startling tbeuatione,-and the very stare, 

Yon bright and burning blazonry of Gon, 

Glitter awhile in their etern&l deptha, 

And like the Pleiad, loveliest of their train, 

Shoot from their glorious epheree, and Jl88ll away, 

To darkle in the trackleu void: yet Tune 

Time, the tomlrbuilder, holds his fierce career, 

Dark, stel'n, all-pitileae, and pau1188 not 

Amid the mighty wrecks that atrew hil path, 

To ait and muse, like other conqaerore, 

Upon the f.e&rful ruin he hae wrought. 

PRUTIC&

166 POZM!I oY auucrrow .urn IIZNTI1mln'. 

'~t ~~ a£ tit «aliM= ba SIJOtltigbt. 

I 8l'OOD within the Col!Jeu.mla wan 

'Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome; 

The tl-eee which grew along the broken ar¢helJ 

Waved dark in tlie blue midnight, and the stan 

Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar 

The watch~og bay'd,beyond the Tiber; aM 

More near from out the c-ars' palace came 

The owl's long cry, and. interruptedly, 

Of distant sentinel& the fitful aoog 

Begun and died upon the ~entle wind. 

Some eypreBBea upon the time-wom breach 

Appear'd to akirt the horizon, yet th&y sto01l 

Within a boWllhot-where the Oreul'll dwelt, 

And dwell the tuneless birds of night amidst 

A grove wbieb epringa through levell~d battlemebt!l, 

And twinea ite roote with the imperial hearths, 

Ivy uaurpa the laurel'a plaee of growth;- 

Bnt the gladiator's bloody circus stands, 

A noble wreck in ruinous perfection I 

While Oa~BBr'a cnambers, and the Auguatan halla 1 

Grovel on eJUth in indi.etinot deeay.- 

A{Id thou did'st shine 1 thou rolling moon, lq>Oil 

All this, and ca.et a Wlde and tender nght, 

Which aoften'd down the bo:n: llUBt.erity 

or rugged desolation, and fill'd up, 

As 'twere anew, the gape of eentnriea; 

Leavit\g that beautiful which etill WN so. 

.And making that whleh was not, till the place 

.Became religion, and the heart ran o'er 

With aUent worship of the great of old! 

The dead but sceptred eovereigna, who atillrule 

Our apirlts from their urns. 

Brnolf. 

inwul:.ou ai Jnmam 5~•· 

Lro leaves on trees the life of man i.e !duM, 

Now green in youtb, 11ow Withering on the gro'dnd ; 

A.notlier race tbe following spring RUppliee, 

They fallaueeea8i•e and mcce111ive riae : 

So generations lh their eourie deilay; 

So 1louriah tbeae, when tho11e have pw'd a•Ay. 

8lUlfSTOtra.

OOJI!'081l!) '"01'1 ~ uroos. 

E.um baa not Anything to ehfi'W' more f!Ur: 

Dull would he be of soul 'Who eanld pall by 

A ai~tht so touching in ita majeaty: 

Thia city now doth like a garment 'WII.I' 

The beauty oftbe morni~; ailen\, b.Ge. 

Ships, towen, domee, theatres, and temple• tie, 

Oven unto the fielda and to the aky, 

All bright and glittering in the amok:el1111 air. 

Never did IIUD more beautifully eteep, 

In hit first splendour, valley, rock, or bill ; 

Ne'er eaw I, nevar felt, a calm 80 deeP. I 

The river glideth at hia own eweet will: 

Dea.r God I the •ery houses aeem aaleep ; 

And all that mighty heart ta lying atilll 

W ORDBWORTJI, 

Yx wintry ftowm, 11'1108'11 pe'D~Te dyee 

Wake, where the Btimmer'a my aleepe I 

Ye a.re lilte oTJihatra, in whose eyee 

Their low~id m(Yther'a beauty ~ 

Oh I not lilte etan that oome a.t ne, 

n:~ dim clouds gatheJ'in& one by one ; 

And tile (ailing heart to grieve, 

Beca'dse another 4A;j ia gone 1 

But lib tbe bopee ~at Unger yet 

Upou the grave ofeorrow'alo.-e; 

And dare Affection to forget 

The form below, the eoulabove. 

Or like the thoughts that bid I>eepa.ir 

Repo11e in faitli on Mercy'a bzult J 

Giurs of wiags-from toil and aare 

To fly away, ud be at rtat.

168 PODII OJ' &DLIIIC1r10lf ~ BD t1W1. 

Jta&.ct Db Sm. 

DaoP, drop into the gran, Old Lear, 

l>rop, drop into the gran ; 

Thy aoom'a groW~~, thy acorn'• aown 

Drop, drop into the grave. 

December'• t.empeata rave, Old Leaf, 

Above thy fonwt-gn.ve, Old Leaf, 

Drop, drop into the grave. 

The birda in spring, will sweetly ling 

That death alone ia sad ; 

Th11 gr&ll8 will grow, the primrose ahow 

Tb.&t death alone ia aad. 

Lament above thy gran, Old Leaf. 

For what hu life to do with grieff 

'Tia death alone that's u.d. 

What then 1 We two have both lived through 

The sunshine and the raiD ; 

And bleaa'd be He, to me aDd thee, 

Who tent hia S1lll. and raiD I 

We've had our BUD and rain. Old Leaf, 

And God ,m aend again, Old Lear, 

The t11Il8bine aDd the rain. 

Bace after race ofleavea aDd men, 

Bloom, wither, aDd AM gone ; 

.A. wind. and waten riM aud fall, 

So life aDd death roll on; 

And long aa ocean heavee, Old Leaf, 

ADd bud and Me the leavea., Old Lellf, 

Will life aDd death roll on. 

How like am I to thee, Old Leaf! 

We'll drop together down; 

How lib art thou to me, Old Leaf! 

W e'U drop togethe.r doWD. 

I'm gray, aDd thou art brown, Old Lea( 

We'll drop together down, Old Le~ 

We'll drop together down. 

Drop, drop iDto the grave, Old Leaf, 

Drop, drop into the grave; 

Thy acorn's grown, thi acorn'• aown 

Drop, drop iDto the grave. 

December'• tempeeta rave, Old Leaf, 

Above thy fore&t-grave, Old Leaf; 

Drop, drop into ~he gran I 

EI.LIO'l"l'. 

..

PODS OJ' BD'LJWrlOif AND IIBtl'rl1IUT, 169 

Cit Jumai• llf timl. 

BUU'l'H this ~arch 

Nought reet.eth or 18 etill, 

But all things hold their mat·ch 

AI if by one great will : 

Moves one, move all : 

Hark to the footfall ! 

On, on, for ever ! 

Yon abeavea were once but aeed: 

Will ripena into deed . 

.Aa eav&drops ewell the atreama, 

Day-thought. feed nightly dl'eam.a ; 

And BOrrow tr&cketh wrong, 

AI echo folio,.. 10ng, 

On, on, for ever I 

By night, like starB 011 high, 

The hour~ reveal their train; 

They whiaper and go by, 

I never watch in vain : 

Moves one, move all : 

Hark to the footfall! 

On, on, for ever I 

They p1188 the cradl&-head, 

And there a. promi.ae abed ; 

They paM the moist new grave, 

And bid rank verdure wave ; 

They bear through every clime, 

The harveatB of all time, 

On, on, for ever I H.&JUUll'l' HAaTllJU tr. 

JIIWUI' ~ru. 

B.r:rwDlf two worlds, Life honTB ll~e a atar 

'Twixt night and morn, upog. the horizon's verge ; 

How little do we know that which we are I 

How leaa what we may be I The eternal surge 

or time and tide rolla on, and beara afar 

Our bubblea ; ae the old buret, uew emerge, 

I.aah'd f'.rom the foam of agee, while the grave 

or empires heaves but like some pulling w&ve. 

BnoN.

:J. !mutt. 

SLOWLY, slowly up th& .aU 

Steals the aanabine, ate.ala the sb&de, 

Evenin~ dAmps begin to pall, 

Evewng aha.dowa are cfi-t:>lay'd. · 

Boun.d me, o'er me, evetyl'l'bere 

All the sky ia gmnd with clouds, 

ADd athwart the evening air 

Wheel •he nra.llows home iD

~~ldita. 

Sa ho~ beneAth the mooobum'• ~mil., 

Yon little billow her.v• ita breat; 

And (OIUill ud apw-~ea for a while, 

And murmuring then 1Ubeide1 to .rlllt J 

Tbaa lllAII 1 the sport of blias anti care, 

lliaes on Time's eventful aea; 

.And, having ewell'd a moment there, 

Tbns melt. into eternity. 

.Moou, 

§rrmns Df * ~eab. 

On in atill night-dreams a departed face 

Benda o'er me with sweet earneatne• of eye, 

Wearing no more of e&rtbly paina a trace, 

But all the tenner pitl tbat may be 

On the clear brow of u2nnortalitr. 1 

C&Im, yet profound. Soft raya utome that mien; 

Tb' unahadow'd moonlight ot some far off •ky 

Around it ftoata. transparently serene 

As a pure Tell of watens. 0 rioh Sleep I 

The apells are mighty in thy regiona deep, 

Which glorlty with reconciling breath, 

EIJ'acln~, brightening, giviug forth to ahine 

Beauty a high truth ; and bow much more divine 

Thy power whenlink'd, in tb.ia, with t.hyaterD brother 

Death I 

MB.S. liKJun. 

~.aamJ. 

TBB myeteriea of the Angel· World 

Are hall untolded when we aleep ; 

In drn.ma the eail.e of thought, untort••, 

Waft 1111like barqn11 where Angel• k~p 

Cloee-veil'd within the unknown aeaa 

Their watch. 'l'o tl&int upon hie knee~~, 

Great God I how near thou comeet down ; 

What radiant light, what spirlt.-eroWD, 

What boeom heal't'&-eaae Thou doet ai~ 

'.l;o thoae ~ho in Thy oO't'e!Wlt H"tel

172 POIDI8 o:r UBI'LJIG'l'ION .A MD IIDTDID'l'. 

c:t, jlghf ar inn. 

'l'B:& 1ligbt is come, but not too soon ; 

And linking silently, 

All silently,. the little moon 

Dropa doWll behind the sky. 

Tl.tere is no light in e».rth or heaven. 

But the cold light of stars ; 

And the firi1t watch of night i.a given 

To the red planet MarL 

Is it the tender star oflove- 

Tbe star ,of love and dreams t 

0 no I froin that blue tent above 1 

A hero's lr.rmour gleams. 

And earnest thoughts within me rise, 

When 1 behold afar, 

Su1JP8nded in the evening skies, 

The ahieM of thAt red etar. 

0 atar of at:rength I I see thee stand 

And smiLe upon my pain ; · 

Thou beekonest with thy mailM band. 

.And I &Ill etrong again. 

Within my breaat there i.a no ligbt, 

But the cold light of stars; 

I give the ilnt watch or the night 

To the red planet .Mara. 

The star of the unconquer'd will, 

He rises in my breast, 

Serene, and . .reeolute, and still 1 

And calm,, and aelf-posseas'

L 

BWDT day 1 

so eool, 110 calm, 10 bright, 

The bri

114 1'0~ OJ' un..cmoll Al{D ani¥DT. 

~p.cak pita to tkt «rtbrg. 

Snu gently to the erring 

Ye know not all the power 

With which the dark temptatiou CAQle 

In some unguarded hour : 

Ye may not know how e&l'lleeUy 

They struggled, or how well, 

Until the hour of weakne• erune, 

And udly thus they fell ! 

Speak gently of the erring 

Db ! do not thou forget, 

However darkly stain'd by aiD, 

He is thy brother yet. 

Heir of the eel.C-B&me heri~e, 

Child of the self-same Got!, 

He hath but stumbled in the paij1 

Thou hut ill weak.neas trod. 

8~ kindly to the erring- 

For is it not eno-qgh 

That innoeenee and peace are gone, 

Without thy ceiiSure rough f 

It surely is a wllary lot 

Th¥ sin·erush'd heart to bear; 

.And they who shn.re a happier fate 

Their chidinga well m.a.y spare. 

Speak kindly to the erring- 

Thou yet mt.y'at let.d him back, 

With holy words, aull touea of love, 

From Mi.aery's thorny track : 

Forget not thou hAst often ainn 'd, 

And eiuful yet m-uet be; 

Deal kindly with the errillg one, 

.As God has dealt with thee. Lu. 

~ 4Jaab' 'onsdma Jht ~tsf ~tfmct . 

W liAT stronger breastplate tb.&n a heart untainted i 

Thrice is he anu'd that hath his qUI.\rrel just ; 

And he but nue~ though lock'd up in steel, 

Whose coiiScienee with injustice ill corrupte!). 

- SIJ,U:JSP&AR&

J.ob!auu of • Jomfa -=· 

0 I I WOULD wal.lt 

A wuar jou~y, to the la.rthMt verg. 

Qf tb.e bic Yorld, to kiM thf.t good m&n'a bud, 

Who, in &be blue of wiadom ud of art, 

PrelerYn a lowly mind ; IUld to hia God, 

Feeling the een~~e of hia OWll litUen .., 

h aa a child in meek aialplioit{ I 

What w the pomp of let.millg the JlU&,de 

Of letten u d o{ tcmgu• t even "' tl ut lllillta 

Of the gray mom ~fore the rj.Wlg IUA 

That pau awe.y and periJb. Eut.hly i.hi.np 

Are but the t.ra.D.IitD t pA£8IUI ta of IUl hour ; 

And earthly pride iB like the praing dower 

That apl'inp to fal.l. ud b~ma b~&t to die. 

WBI'IX 

cf.ot~IJ of ~njntit•. 

Luu from yon orient •bell to love thy roe, 

And atore with pee.rls the hand that brings thee woe : 

Free like yon rock, from hue vindi

l i6 

l'ODIS OJ' 11.ULBOI'IOlf .AliD tiD'riKD'r. 

~Jolntt rl 4fndlnuJJ. 

Snut yon eo gently 1 Pardon me, I pray you. 

I thought that all thinp had been aavage here ; 

And therefore put I on the countenance 

Of stem commandment. But whate'er you are, 

That in thia deeert ina

fO&Ma OJ' B.ULEIO'l'lOlf .AJrJl Uli'I'UUUIT. 177 

«ontJwiou. 

TID aweeteet 'foioe 

That warblea in the grove, a not ao aweet 

Aa thine, Compauion--nor the boldea~ deed 

Of bero'a arm BO WOrthy of the lyra 

Aa act of Mercy ; nor, in all the round 

Of beinff, i.e there aught in God'a \lure eye, 

So bleu d, ao aancti.lit~d as thoee k~nd tbougbta 

That stir the boeom of Benevolence. 

Wltat are the joya of Heaven but those of Love f 

What God's own bliBB '#-The bliaa of doing good 

Unlimited and perfect! 

DBOK.KOND. 

l!ttub.triUIU. 

Tua bath, my lord, a wallet at hia back, 

Wberein be puts alma !or oblivion, 

A great,ai.zed monater of ingrat.hudt~'a; 

Thoae acrape are good deeda put, which are devour'd 

Aa faet aa they are made, forgot. u eoon 

Aa done. Perseverance, dear my lord, 

Xeepa honour bright; to hAVe donl', ia to hang 

Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail, 

In monwnental mockery. Take the instant way, 

For honour travo:le' in a 11tro.it 110 narrnw 1 

Where one uut goea abreast. Keep then the path ; 

For emulation hath a thousand Bona, 

That one by one pursue; if you give way, 

Or hedge aside U'OIIl the direct fot•thright., 

Like to an enter 'd tide, they all ruab by, 

And leave you hindmost. 

Or, like A gallant horae, fallen iu first rank, 

Lie there for puvement to the abject rear, 

O'er-run and trampled on: then wha~ they do in present, 

Thou~th leu tiJ&n youn in past, moat o'ertop youra; 

For t1me ia like a fashionable hoet, 

That aliHhtlr ebakea hie parting gueat by the hand, 

And with bus arme outatretch'd, aa be would dy, 

G1'8.8p9 in the comer: welcome ever smiles, 

And f!lrewell goea out sighing. ObI let not vir tue atek 

Remuneration for the thing it waa; for benuty, wit, 

High birth, vi$our of bone, desert in 8'ervice, 

Love, friendahlp, charity, are eubjecla all 

To e.uvioua 11nd caluil.Uliating tiwe. S o..t.Xlr.8l'JtA..a&. 

lf

Jtbtr Ill~ Jail. 

KDP wtll''king-'tiB wiaet' 

'.nwlaitting aside, 

And dreaming &nd ai2h!ng 

And wniting the tide. 

lD life's eU'IIe&t battle 

They Olllly prenil 

Who dail'y mal'Ch onward, 

.And 11ever .ay fail I 

In life'a l"O&y morning, 

In mMhood'e firm pride, 

Let this he the motto 

Your footetepa to guide: 

In storm and in tmft8hinel 

Whatever Mllllil, 

We'll on'l!l'!lni andcooquet', 

And ne,"rerayfaiU 

Jtl7mstinalion. 

To-lloRJ\OW and to·morrow, and to-mort'O"'P 

Creeps in tl~ia potty space from day to day, 

To the lnst syUa:ble of reeorded time, 

And all oar y•f:M-

Jut. 

Swn:r ia the pleasure 

ltaelf cannot spoil! 

h not true lei1111re 

{)ne with true toll t 

Thou that wov.ld'•t tute Jt, 

StiJl.do thy ~; 

Uae i~ not WMte it, 

Else 'U. ..uo r•t. 

Would'et behold beauty 

Near thee T alhound I 

Only hath duty 

Suc:b a sight found. 

Rest is not quitting 

The busy career; 

Rest ia the 'fitting 

Of eelf to He sphere. 

'Tis the brook's motion 

Olear without strife, 

Flee~ to OC881ll 

.ut.er st. life. 

Deeper devotion 

Nowhere hath celt; 

Fuller emotiou 

Heart never f"t. 

'Tis loving and serving 

The Highest and Beat: 

'Tis o:nwa.rda! unawerviog. 

And tlut.t ia traJl reat. 

«.t.mnd 'ovr. 

ETEIINAt. Hope! when yonder apberea11.1blim~ 

PeoJ'd their fil'Bt notes to sound the march ofTia:a~ 

Thy joyous youth began-bnt not to fade.- 

Wheo all ~he sister planets hve decay'd; 

When wrapt in fire the reah:ns of ether gl-, 

And He11ven's last thunder ebakea the world below ; 

Thou, undiamay'd, a halt. o'er the ruina amite, 

And light thy torch at Nature's faneral pile. 0Alll'Bltt.L.

Joptl. 

Rona are irlepirationa ; fint they grow 

'Ill crypt--like heart., where aecret aplendoure glow 

Of Love and Wiedom. H oJ>I:II are Truths divine, 

That stand above the aentr1ed lights of time, 

With faoea fill'd with dawn-light and with forms 

Invincible ; and there above all storms 

They chant their revelation, leading on 

Humanity to deetiuiea unlulown. 

l:b.e ~ell£0ll'. 

'Ills acene waa more beautiful far, to my eye, 

Than ii day in ita pride ll&d array'd it; 

The land-breeze blew mild, and the azut·e.,&reh'd sky 

Look'd,pure aa the Spirit that made it. 

The murmur arose aa I silently gazed 

On the aba.dowy wavea' playful motion; 

From the dim diataot iale till the beacon-fire blazed, 

Like a at&r in the midst of the ocean. 

No longer the joy ot the u.ilor-boy'a brea.st 

Waa heard in his wildly breathed numbera; 

The aea-bird had flown toLer wave-girded ueat, 

The 1i.aherman 8unk to his slumbers. 

I aigh'd u I look'd from the hill'a gentle slope; 

.All bueh'd waa the billo ws~ comUlotion; 

.ADd I thought that the beacon look'd lovely as hope, 

That star of life's tremnlou~ ocean. 

The time is long paatl and the scene is afAr, 

Yet., when my he&

toDB OJ' llli:J'L&C7l'IO!r .AJID 8DTJlDDI'l'. 181 

WoULD that I were a river, 

To wander all alone 

Through some sweet Eden or the wild, 

In music of my own; 

And bathed in bliu, and fed with dew, 

Diatill'd o'er m.ount&ins hoary, 

Return unto my home in heaven, 

On wings of joy and glory I 

Or that I were a akylark, 

To soar and sing above, 

Filling all hearts with joyful aounda, 

And my own soul with love I 

Then o'er the mourner and the dead, 

.AJ.ad o'er the good man dying; 

My song should come like budS and Bowen, 

Wben muaie warbles 11.ying. 

0, that a wing of splendour, 

Like yon wild cloud, were mine I 

Yon bounteous cloud, tba.t get& to give, 

.And borrowa to reaign I 

On that bright wing, to climes of spring, 

ro bear all wintry bosoms, 

And bid Hope emile on weeping thoughts, 

Like April on her bloasoma. 

Eu.torr. 

iorrDIDs. 

Ft.owns by heedle1111 foot.atepa prest, 

All their sweeta surrender; 

Gold must brook the fiery test, 

Ere it show ita splendour. 

St&ra come forth when Night her ahroud 

Draws, as daylight Cainteth; 

Only on the tearful cloud, 

God his rain bow paintat.b.

linu• go !Ia (urns, 

Tmllopped tree in t.ime may grow ~n, 

Moet naked pla.nta renew both fruit 111d Bower: 

The eorrieet wight a ay find rel- of M 

The drieat eoileuck ia ~ moilll:enlDg ahower: 

Time goea by turu, and clwlcee change by OOW11e, 

From foul to f.t.ir, £rom better hap to W01'8S. 

The sea of Fortulle doth not enr Bow ; 

She dnwa her favoure to tbe lowest ebb: 

Her tidea have equal timea t.o oome and go; 

Her loom doth wean the tUae and oo&rMBt web; 

No joy ao great bat r nnnetlt t.o an eDd. 

No hap eo bard but may in fill• amend. 

.Not alwaya fAll of leaf, 1110r evn apri11g, 

Noi endlee~ night, yet not eternal day: 

The eaddeet birde a II8UOil Bnd to aing, 

The rougbeat atorm a calm may aoon alll\y, 

Tbua, with aucceedlng turna, God temperetb all, 

That IIWl may hope to riee, ye~ fear to fall. 

A chance may win that by mlachance wae lost; 

That net that holds no great, takes little Dab ; 

lD aome tbwga all, in all thing~ ncme are croee'd ; 

Fe'lf all they need, but none han all they wish. 

Uumingled joya ben to no man befall; 

Who leut, hath eome ; who moat, hath never aiL 

80UTB1nl.llnn;emru. 

Taouos I look old, yet I &m atrong an

~ br t~ u1c. Come, a hill we go IUld k.illll& nuiloa' 

And yet it kU me, tho poor dapplool foola 

Being native burght~l'l of thia deaert city 

Should, in their o.,n confines, with forked heada 

Have their round haUD.chea gored. 

Lord. 

Indeo:d, my lord, 

The mel~~ncholy Jaquea grieves at tlu•t; 

And, in that kind, aweara you do more usurp 

Than doth your brother, that hath baniah'd you. 

To-day, my lord of .A.miena IUld myaelf 

Did ateal behind him u be lAy aloog 

Under an oak, whoee antique root peepe out 

Upon the brook t.hat brawls along tbia wood: 

To the which place a ~r aequeater'd etag, 

Tb&t from the bunter a aim had ta'eo. a hurt, 

Did come to 1a.nguiab ; and iDdeed, my lord, 

The WNtched animal heaved forth auch gr0&11.1 1 

That their diecha.rge did au-etch hie lee.tbern coat 

.Almost to bunl.i»g; IUld the big round tears 

OourBed one another down hia innocent n011e 

In piteoua chase : and thu.a the hl\iry fool, 

Much marked o!the melancholy Jaques, 

Stood on the extremeat verge of the awit\ broolr. 

Augmenting it. with tears. 

Dub. 

But what uid Jaquea I 

D id he not moraliae thia apectacle f 

Lord. Oh yea ! into a thouaa.nd aimilea. 

Fint, for hie weeping in the needleu stream : 

".l'oo.r d~," quoth he." th

Are mere uaurpen, tyrattta, and, what's wol'l!e 1 

To fri~bt the animals, and to kill them up 

In the1r &~~~ign'd and native dwelling-place. 

Duke. And did you leave him in this contemplation f 

Lord. .We did, my lord, weeping and commenting 

Upon the sobbing deer. 

i:ht (an&id .ikfp. 

MoBN on the waters I and, purple and bright, 

Bul"Bte on the billows the fiuahmg of light; 

O'er the glad waves, like a child of the sun, 

Bee the tall vel!llel goes gall11ntly on ; 

Full to the breeze abe unboeoma her sail, 

And her pennonetreams onward, like hope, in the gale; 

The winds come around her, in murmur and song, 

And the 11urges rejoice &a they bear her along, 

See! she looks up to the golden-edged cloude, 

And the sailor singe gaily aloft in the shrouds: 

Onward she glides, amid ripple and spray, 

Over the wate~way, and aw11y! 

Bright as the Tiai0t111 of youth, ere they part, 

Paeeing away, like a dream of the heart l 

Wbo......,as the beautiful pageant aweepe by, 

Mueic around her, and sunshine on high 

Pauses to think, amid glittet· and glow, 

Oh .I there be hearts that are breaking below I 

Night on the wavee 1-r.nd the moon is on high, 

Hung, like a gem on the brow of the sky, 

Treading ita depth; in the power of her might, 

And turning the clouds, aa they p11BB her, to light!· 

Look to the watel'l! 1-aaleep on their breast, 

Seema not the ship like au island of rest 7 

Bright and Alone on the shadowy main, 

Like a heart-che.risb'd home on some desolate plAin I 

Who-a.a ahe smiles in the silvery lightf 

Spreading her wings on the boeom of mght, 

A1one on the deep, as the moon in the aky, 

A phantom of beauty-could deem with a e'igh, 

That so lovely a thing is the mansion of ain, 

And that aouls that are smitten lie bunting within t

POIDlB OJ' REJ'LECl'lOlf A.ND S&NTIXIJI"l'. 185 

Who-u he watches her silently gliding 

Bemembere that wave after wave is dividing 

Boeuma that sorrow and guilt could not sever, 

Hearte which are parted IUid broken f'or ever l 

Or deems th11t be watches, &float. on the wave 1 

The dro.th-bed of hope, or the young spiri~'s gro. vet 

'Tis thus with ouT life, while it p11asea along, 

Like a veesel at sea, amidst atmehine and aong l 

Gaily we glide, in the ga.v.e of the world, 

W ith streamers afiont, and with canvas nnfurl'd ; 

All gladness and glory to wandering eyes, 

Yet, chnrter'd by sorrow, and freighted with aigla, 

Fading and false is the aal>ect it wears, 

AI the smiles we put on, Just to oover our tears ; 

And the withering thoughts which the world cannot 

know, 

Like heart-broken exiles, lie burning below; 

Whilst 1he ve88el dn.vee on to thnt desolate shore 

'Where the dreams of our childhood Are ve.nieh'd and 

o'er. 

THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day; 

The lowing herd wind alowly o'er the lea; 

The ploughman homeward plods hle weary way, 

And leaves the world-to darkneea and to me. 

Now fadea the ~limmering landacape on the sight, 

A.nd all the a1r a solemn etillne88 holda; 

&ve where the beetle wheels his drony flight, 

A.nd drowey tinklings lull the di.etaut folds; 

&ve that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower 1 

The moping owl does to the moon eompJain 

Of anch na, wandering near her eeeret bower, 

Molest her Mcient. solitary reign. 

Beneath tbeae rngJred elms, that yew·tree'e shade, 

'Where heaves tile turf in mntly a mouldt~ring heap, 

.Each in hia narrow cell {or ever laid, 

The rude forefathers of tbe hamlet aleep.

18!1 l'OI:D 0 .. IIJD'LIIC'l'IOK UD 8DTDaJIT. 

Tho breezy eall oC incense-breathing morn, 

The aw&I.Low twittering from her atraw-built ahed, 

The cock'a ahrill clarion, or \he eehoiog hOt'U,. 

No more ab.&ll rouse them from their lowly bed. 

For tbttm no more the blaziug hearth abtill bUl'Jl, 

Or busy housewife ply her evening care; 

No clLildreJI run to liep their ai1-e'a return, 

Or climb hi8 kneea the envied kisa to share. 

Oft did the harvest to tbc:ir sickle yield ; 

Their furrollr oft the stubborn glebe baa broke: 

How jocund did they drive their t"llam a-field I 

How bow'd the wooda beneath their aturdy stroko I 

Let not Ambition mock their 1116ful toil, 

Their homely joys and destiny obscure ; 

Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, 

The ahorl and aimple annala of the poor ! 

The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Power, 

And all that Beauty, all that We&lth e'er gave, 

Await alike the inevitable hour: 

The paths of Glory lead-but to the grave. 

Nor you, ye Proud, impute to theae tho fault, 

Ir Memory o'er their tomb no troph.iee r&ise, 

Where through the lo.ng-drawn aiale and fretted vault, 

The pealiug anthem swells the note of praise. 

Can 11toried urn, or anim11ted buat, 

Back to it.& mamion call the fleeting breath J 

Can Ho11our'a voice provoke the silent dust, 

Or Flattery soothe the duU cold ear of death T 

Porbapet in thi.e neglected apot, ia laid 

Some be&rt once pregnant with ooleatial fire ; 

Haude that the rod of Empire might have away'd, 

Or waked to ecsto.sy the living lyre : 

But Knowledge to their eyee her ample paget. 

Rich with the spoils ol time, 1\id ne'er unroll; 

Chill Peuury repreaa'd their noble rage, 

And froze the genial curreut of the aoull 

'Full·DlAIIy a gem of purest ray eerene, 

The dark Unfatbom'd cavea of Oeeu bear; 

Ful.l many a 11.ower ia born tu blush llDIIetO., 

And wute ita eweet.n- on \he deaert .UI

Some villa.ge Hampdei:t 1 that, ·with dauntl8118 breaat, 

The little tyrant of his .fields wilhatood; 

Some mute ingloriova Milton here may rest- 

Some Oromwelt, guiltlesa of hia eountry'a blood. 

The 1\pplause of liatening eenatea to oomma.nd, 

The th.rea.ta of pain a.nd rui11 to deapiae, 

To acatter pleut,Y o'er a. ~>miliug land, 

And read thoU" 1\iatory in a nation's eyea, 

Their lot forbade; nor circumscribed alone 

Their glowing virtues, but their crimes confined 

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, 

.ADd shut the gate« of mercy on mankind; 

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide ; 

To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame; 

Or heap t.he shrill.& of luxllJ'y 1l.Dd pride, 

With incense kindled a~ the Muse's fla.mo. 

:Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 

Their sober wiahea never lee.ru'd to atray : 

Along the cool sequester'd vale oClife 

They kept the noiaeleaa tenor of their way! 

Yet e'en tbeeo bones from iuault to protect, 

Some frail meruori11l, atiU erected nigh, 

With uncouth rhymea and ahapeleaa sculpture deck'J, 

Implores the pa.esing tribute of a aigh. 

Their name, their yean, spell'd by the uuletter'd m111e, 

The place of fame and elegy supply; 

.ADd many a holy text aroiUid she strews, 

To teach the ruati.c moralis~ to diil. 

For who, 'to dumb Forgetfulneaa a prey~ 

This pleaaing, awoua being e'er resign'd 

Left the WILl'tn precinct& of' the cheerful day, 

Nor ca.e~ oue longing, lingering look: behind t 

On some fond breast the parting soul relies, • 

Some pious drops the closing eye requirea: 

.E'en from the tomb the voice ol Nature criee, 

E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires ! 

For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead, 

Dost in these linea their a.rtleaa te.le relate, 

If, 'chance, by lonely Contemplation led, 

Some kindred apirit shall inquire thy fate ;

188 POitV8 OJ' B.D'LECTJON Atro 8DTUDIN"''. 

Haply, some hoa.ry-he&ded awaJn may say- 

'' Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawu. 

Brushing, with haaty steps, the dewa away, 

To meet the ann upon the upland lawn. 

"There, at the foot oC yonder nodding beech, 

That wreathes ita old fantftstic toots eo high 

His lietlesa length at noontide would he atrekh, 

And pore upon the brook that bubbles by. 

11 

Hard by yon wood, now smiling aa in scorn, 

Muttering hie wayward fancies, he would rove: 

Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn, 

Or crazed with care, or crosa'd in bopelen love I 

"One morn I misa'd him on the accnstom'd hill, 

Along the heath, and near hie favourite tree: 

Another came; nor yet beside the rill, 

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he: 

"The next with dirges due, in sad 1\rrny, 

Slow through the church-way path wo eaw him borne : 

A~>.proach and read (for thou canst read) the la~, 

GraYed on the atone beneath yon aged thorn. 

THE ll!l'lTAPR. 

HEU reeta hie head upon the lap of earth, 

A youth to Fortune and to Fame unkuowu ; 

Fair Science frowu'd not on hie humble birth, 

And Melancholy mark'd biro for her owu. 

Large waa his bounty, and his soul sincere; 

Heaven rlid & recompenoe as largely eend ; 

RI!_gave to Misery all be had-a tear; 

He gain'd from Heaven, 'twas all he wieh'd-a friend. 

No further seek hie merit& to diaeloae, 

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, 

(There they alike in trembliJig hope repose, 

The bo&om of hie Father and bia God.) 

GuT.

Tnn rolla hla ceuel- ooune. The race of yore, 

Who danced our infa.ncy upon their kuee, 

Alld told our marvelling boyhood legenda atore, 

Of their atrnnge nnturea happ'd l:iy lantl ore ~ &, 

How are they blotted from the things that be I 

How few, all weak and witber'd of their force, 

Wroit on the nrge of clark eternity, 

Like etranded wrecka, the tide n~turnlng hoarse, 

To sweep them from our light I Time rolla hie cea.uleu 

ooune, 

Soon. 

Tau let ua be content in spirit, though 

We cannot walk, a.a we are f11in to do, 

Within the aolemn shadow of our gt·iefa 

For ever~but must needs come down again 

From tbe bright ekirta of those pl'otectiug cloUU8 1 

To tread the common paths of e11rth a.new. 

Then let ua be content to leave behind ua 

So much; which yet we leave not quite behind; 

For the bright memot·iea of the holy dead, 

Tbe ble•ed ones departed, shine on us 

Like the pure aplendoura of eome clear large atar, 

Which pilgrims, travelling onward, at their back.a 

Leave, and at every moment eee not now ; 

Yet, whenaoe'er they list, may pauae and turn, 

And with ita glories gild their fAcea still: 

Or aa beneath a northern slty is seen 

The eunkeu sunset living in the weat, 

A tender radiance there aurvi• ing long, 

Which haa not faded all away, before 

The Bamillg banners of the morn advance · 

Over the aum.mita of thtl orient billa. 

TR&Ncn.

fhobmu in t~• '&il. 

L 

1'Bn11 It some lOW of goOODUI tn thlnga rnl, 

Would men obaerringly diatil 1t out. 

8ll.A.U.8l'U.D. 

u. 

'T!I!Ilfato.re•e !&w 

That none, the meanest of created thingtt, 

Of forma created the moat vile and brute, 

The dullest or moat noxious, 1hould exist 

Divorced from good-a apirit and pulse of good, 

.A. life and eoul, to every mode of being 

Inaepa.rably linlt'd. Then be lo88ured 

That leaat of all can aught-that ever own'd 

The heaven-regaTding eye ancl front auiflilne 

Which man la born to-eink, howe'er depr81111'd. 

So low aa to be eoorn'd without. a ain; 

Without offence to God caat out of view; 

Like the dry remuant of a garden-flower, 

"Whoee aeeda aTe abed, or aa an implement 

Worn out and worthleaa. 

48 fn~at at$~ b.of~ Jbia &!oint pi Dll'. 

0 WJU.T a glory doth tbia world put on 

For him who, with a fervent heart, goea forth 

Under the bright and ~lorions sky, and too\& 

On duties weU perform d and dAys well spent I 

For him the wind, ay, and the yeDow leaves 

Shall have a voice 1 and give him eloquent teachlugs, 

He ahaU eo bear tne solemn hymn that Death 

1!38 lifted up for all, t'bat "he abaU go 

To hia long resting-plACe without a tear. 

LmronLLOw.

J'O:ad 07 ~Olf AD~. 191 

lnpldt. 

Tw nin our laboun are wbataoe•u they be, 

Unleaa God givea the 13enedicite. 

Mercy the wise Atbenio.oa held to be 

Not an atTection 1 

but a Deit.ie. 

Wh11tever comes, let's be content witbaU ; 

.Among God'a blea11inga, there ie no one emo.n. 

Three fatal aiate1"8 wait upon eacb ain; 

Fim, Fear and Shame without, then Guilt within. 

That man must govern with o. gentle hAnd, 

Who will have love comply with hie eommand. 

This ia my comfort; when Fortuae'a mn« a• kind, 

She can but spoil me of my mea.ne, not mind. 

Conquer we ahaU, but we mu.t first coutend ; 

'Tie not the fight that cruwm na, bnt the ead. 

Man moat do -.reU out of a good iuteat, 

Not for the servile fear of paniahmout. 

Tu prayer the lips ne'er act tbe winning p11rt, 

Without tbe sweet eoucurrenc:s a{ the heart. 

lhatucL 

idtrbtg is a JDIJZ ,bing. 

0 Ltn, 0 De&~ 0 World, 0 Time, 

0 Grave, where &11 thingtt d~w. 

'Tis yours to make our lot sublime, 

With your great weight of woe I 

Though aharpeet nnguish hearts may wtiug, 

Though boeoma torn may be, 

Yet autfel'ing is a holy thing; 

Without it what were we 1 

Tau en.

19i 

t'ODB OJ' JUtJ'LECJ'lOl!r .ll!iD SDTUUII't. 

:B&LIBVE n•ot that your inner eye 

Can ever in just measure try 

The worth of Hours as they go by ; 

For every m·an•s weak self, alas! 

Makes him to see them, while they pau, 

As througlb a dim or taillted glass: 

But if in en.rnest caJ•e you would 

Mete out to each its pa.rt of good, 

Trust rather to your after-mood, 

Those suraly are not fairly spent 1 

That leave your s~_>irit bow'd ana bent 

In sad unmet and ill..eoutent: 

And more,--tboagb free from seeming harm, 

You rest ti·om toil of mind or ann, 

Or slow rei~ire from pleasure's charm,- 

If then a p:a.inful sense comes on 

Of somethin{{ wholly lost and gone, 

Vainly eujlly d or vainly done,~ 

Of aomethi:og from your being's chain 

:Broke off, Iilor to be liuk'd again 

By all mer'~ memory can reta.in,- 

Upon your heart this truth may rise, 

N'othing that altogether dies 

Suffi~11 wa.u's just destinies I 

So should ~ve live, that every Hour 

b!Ay die as dies the nat-ural ftower, 

A self-reviv'iug thing of power ; 

That every thought and every deed 

May hold vrithin itself the seed 

or future gpod aud future ueed; 

Esteeming 1sorrow, whose employ 

Is to develop, not destroy, 

Far better tha.n a barren joy. 

vi

PART IV. 

P 0 E M .S 

SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC 

AFFECTIONS. 

IJiauJIIItoo~r 

In all tho dewy laodocapea or tho eprtnr, 

In the brl&'lltore or Hcaper, or the 1110111, 

In lfa1ure'e r.!rut tl:m111, It aurbt 10 fAit 

;. 1 Tlrlnoua ~endtblp t u tbo caodld bloall 

Otlll!n wbo rtrf...,a wttb fortune to baJuaU 

Tb.e .....,.tW. wu tbat•treamo for othlrt' w-, 

o·r !be mild mi\Joo~;r ofprlnte uro, 

Wllete Peaoa, wltb •Yer-bloo~olln, crowua 

Tbe rate; wbere Bonout't Ubaral benat ea.,.. 

UnenYied treunree, and tbe enow7 wldp 

Of Innoeence and LQn proll!CI tbe econe t 

Wm1Jo711n~ID'4. bn>tbera &Dd olotm meet, 

ADd each tbr otber'e wolfllre klndl7 ,_,.: 

'Ibe ooellll bollll, nrl.tl.-wlna'4, nnnollce

PO "EMS 

SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 

tbe Bia~-4tllUtt, 

Yotr m111t wake &lid eall me earlr. e.Ul me e~U~r._motbe~ dG~.ta 

To-morrow 'ill be the bappieeli time of all the ila4 Ne"'f·YtlU 1 

Of all the glad Ne"'f-year, molher, tbe mad.deet, 1DUI'ieet d,.y l 

For rm to be Queen o' ~he May, mother, rm to 'be Que41n o' 

the May. 

There'a many a black blaek eye, they N1• lnlt n~e I() brl&h• 

aa mine; 

There's Margaret and Mary, there's Kate aud Carotin•; 

But n.one ao fair u little Alice in all the land they aay; 

So I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, rm to be Queen o' tho 

May. 

I sleep so 10nnd all night, motber 1 th•t l .hfoll never "'~'AUt 

It you do not call me loud when tile d•y be~ to ~~ l 

But I must gather knots of Bowen, and buds and garlan~ r;ayt 

For rm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o 

theMay. 

' 

As I came up the valley whom thi"ok ye &bonld I see. 

But Robin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazel-tree; 

He thought of that •harp look, mother, I gaft him yoaterday- 

But I'm to be Queen o' the May, moO!er, I'm 1D be Queeo o' 

the May. 

He thought I was a ghost, mother, tor I was all in "'fhile. 

And I ran by him, withoul speaking, like a flaah of lighl; 

They call me crnel-hUJ1ed, but I e.re nol "hal they ae1, 

For J:1m to be Queen o' tho May, mother, I'm to bo Quen o' 

the:Ma7.

196 PO:orB OF TH:1 SOCJ.AL AND DO.IIJI81'1C An'ECTIOB& 

They say he'e dying all for love, but that can never be: 

They say his heart ia breakillg, mother-what is that to me? 

There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me any summer day; 

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen cl 

the !Uy. 

Little Ellie shall go 1rith me to·morrow to the green, 

And you'll be there, too, mother, to see me mAde the Quee~~; 

For tho shepherd lacU on every aide 'ill come from far· away; 

And rm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' 

the May. 

The honeyaueklo round the porch baa wonn its wavy bowen, 

And by the meadow·tTencbes blowthefainuweetcackoo-fiowel'll; 

And the wild manh-marigold shinea like fire iD swamps and 

hollows p;r; . 

And I'm to be Queen o' the Kay, mother, I'm to be Queen o' 

the !Uy. 

The night wiDda come and go, mother, upon tbe meadow grua. 

ADd the happy stan above them seem to britzhten &S they pass; 

There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day; 

ADd I'm to be Queen cl the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' 

the May. 

All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, 

ADd the cowslip IUJd the crowfoot are over ell the hill, 

ADd the titnlet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play, 

For I'm to be Queen o' the llt:ay, mother, I'm to be Queen o' 

the May. 

So yon must wake and call me eatly, call me early, mother dear, 

To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of ell the glad New-year: 

To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest merriest day, 

For I'm to be Queen o' tho May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' 

the May. 

Jdo-§tar'a '&t. 

b you're wU.U!g, call me early call me early, mother dear, 

For I would 1ee the sun rise n~o the glad New-year. 

It ia the luc New-year lhat I ihell ever let. 

Theu you may lay me low i' the mould, and thilak no more of me. 

To-uight I aaw the R!l aet : he aet and left behind 

The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of miDd: 

And •he New-year'a eomius up; mother, but I •hall a.enr aee 

The llloaom Oil the blackthoru, the leaf upon the tree.

PODIS 01' 'mX SOCIAL -U'D DOHJ:S'l'IC A.n'ECTlON:S. 197 

Last May we made a crown of dowers ; we had a merry day; 

Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of 

May, 

And we danced about the ?.by-pole, and in the hazel copse, 

Till Charles'• Wain came out above the lall white ehimney·topt. 

There's not a fiower on all the hills : the frost i.s on the pane: 

I only wish to live till the snow-drope come again: 

I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high: 

I long to &tje a fiower so before the day I die. 

The building rook 'ill caw from the windy tall elm-lrell, 

.And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea, 

And tbe swallow 'ill come back again with summer o'er the wave,. 

But I shall lie. alone, mother, within the mouldering grave. 

Upon the chancel-easement., and upon that grave of mine, 

In the early early morning the summer ann 'ill ebine, 

Before the red cock. erowa from the farm ·upon the bill, 

When you are warm asleep, mother, and all the world iB still. 

When the flowers eome again, mother, beneath the waning light 

You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night; 

Wben from the dry dark. wold the anmmer airs blow cool 

On the oa1-grass and the aword.grue, and the bulrush in the pool. 

Yon'll bnry me, my mother, j Dilt beneath the hawthorn shade, 

And you'll come eometimea and see me where I am lowly laid. 

I shall not forget you, mother, I shall bear you when yon PUS. 

With your feet above my head in ~he long and pleaaao' gran. 

I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now; 

You'll k.ias me, my owu mother, and forgive me ere I go; 

Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild, 

Yon should no$ fret for me, mother, yon have another child. 

If I can I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place; 

Though you'll not see me, mother, I •hall look upon your face ; 

Though 1 cannot apeak A word, I ahall hearken what yon Illy, 

And be often often with yon, when you think rm far away. 

Goodnight, goodnight, when I have said goodnigb~ for evermore, 

And you see me carried out from the threshold or the door; 

Don't Jet Effie come to see me till my grave be growing green • 

She'll be a better child to yon than ever I have been. 

She'll find my garden-toola upon the granary .floor: 

Let her take 'em-they are her's: I ebaU never garden more: 

But tell her, when rm gone, to train the rose-bush that I set 

About the parlour-window and the box of mignonette.

198 ~-or 1'111: BOCU..L .AJrD oo.-r1c ~.llOI'loaa. 

Oood·DiJht. '-'mother; eall •e before thAt clay ia bo111. 

All aigb' I lie awake, but I Call uleep at mona; 

But I would aee the aun ri.e u-pon the glad New. year, 

So, ll you're "faking, call me, eallme eanr, IDOCAer cleat. 

I TDOtlOIIT to pan away before, and yet &lin I am; 

And In t~ fieldJ all round I bear the bleatln~ of the lamb. 

How eadly, I rememher 1 1'08e the morning of the )'earl 

To die before the aoow

1'01:¥8 0~ TO eocu.L 4lfD D01081'IC AFnO'l'lOX8. 199 

I thought that b wu fancy, and I listen'd ln my bed, 

And then did 1omethingapeak to me-l knew n~ what W&f eaid; 

For great deliaht and ahuddering took hold of aU my milld, 

And up the v&lley ca.me again the music on the wind. 

But you were sleeping; and I said, "It's not for them: it's mine." 

And if it comea three times, I thongbt, 1 take it (or a alga. 

And once again h came, and c:loae beside the window·biU'e, 

Then seem• a to go right up to Heaven and die &mlllllg the eta1'8. 

So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I "know 

The bleased muaic went that w11y my soul will have to go. 

And for myeelf, indeed, I care not if I go to-day. 

Bot Effie you most comfort her wllen I am put away. 

And say to Bobin a kind word, and tell hlm not to fre&; 

Tbere'a 'lll&n.J' worthier than J, would make him happy yet. 

If I had lived-1 eannot tell-1 m.igbt have been h~t wife 1 

But all these tbinga have ceased to be, with my deaire of life. 

0 look. I the BUD begins to rise, the heavens are m a glow ; 

He ehines upon a hundred field&, Rod all of them I know, 

And there 1 move no loop now, and there hilligbt may ahine 

Wild·ftowera in the ,-alley for other banda than mine. 

0 neet and strange it seema to me, that era tbia cay ia done 

Tbe voice that now is spea.k.ing may be beyood the aun 

Jt'or eYer and for enr with tl1ose juat souls and trll&- 

And what is life, that we abould moan? why make we such ado? 

For ever and for eyer, aU in a bleMed ho-- 

And there to wait a little while till y-on •nd EiBe com 

To lie within the light of God, u I Ue upon your breut- 

And the wicked cease from noubling. and the weary are 6l reat. 

'l'BnliOit. 

~&.aLmr. 

Tmc wateJ'II alept. Ni&bt'a ailvery veil blUlrlw 

On Jordan's boeom, and tb& eddiee ourl'd 

Their lll018y riugs be.oeaLh it, like the atlll. 

Unbro"'ken beatina oftheJleeper'apW... . 

The reeds bent down the stream 1 the willow leaves, 

With a aoft cheek upon the lulli.Qg tide, 

Forgot the lifting wmW. ; and the big atema, 

WboBe dowen tile water, like a gentle uuxw, 

BeaJ'II on it. boeom, quietly gave way, 

Anll lea.o'd, i.u ~a.ceful a.ttitus!ea, to 1-eat.

200 PO.IMS OJ '1'JD: BOCI4L AliD DOXES'fiO Al'JPIXl'I'IONS. 

Bow strikingly the eoune of nature tells, 

By ite light heed of huma.n suffering, 

ThAt it was fashion'd for a hAppier world I 

King David's limbs were weary. He had fied 

From far J eruaalem ; aud now he stood, 

With his faint people, for a little rest 

Upon the shore of Jordan: The light wind 

or morn was stirring, and he bared his brow 

To ite refreshing breath; for he had worn 

The mourner's covering, and he had not felt 

That he could see 'hill people nntil now. 

They gather'd round him on the fresh green bank, 

And spoke their kinrlly worrla ; and, as the sun 

:Boee up in heaven, be knelt among them there, 

And bow'd his bead upon his banda to pray. 

Oh ! when the heart ia full- when bitter thougbte 

Come crowding thickly up for utterance, 

And the poor common words of courtesy 

Are such a very mockery-bow much 

The burating heart may pour itself in prayer ! 

He pray'd for Israel-and his voice went up 

Strongly and fervently. He pray'd for those 

Whoee love bad been bi.a shield-and bill deep ton~ 

Grew tremulous. But, oh I for Absalom- 

For bill Mtrantted, misguided Abealom- 

The proud, br1ght being, who bad burst awny 

In aU his princely beauty, to defy 

The heart that cheriah'd him-for hiru be pour'd, 

In agony that would not be controll'd, 

Strong supplication, and forgave him there, 

Before his God, for his deep ainfulneea. 

The pall 1t'&a settled. He who elept beneath 

Was etraighten'd for the grave; and. as the folde 

Bunk to the still proportions, they betray'd 

The matchle88 sytum11try of Absalom. 

His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curia 

Were fioating round the tassels u they eway'd 

To the admitted air, a.a glOilBy now 

As when, in houra o! gentle dalliance, bathing 

The snowy fingera of Judea's daughtera. 

Bis helm wa.s at his feet : his banner, aoil'd 

With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, 

Be versed, be8ide h.iJii; and the jewell'd hilt,

PODIB 01' TBB BOCLA.L AlfD DOKJ!8TIO J.7rBC1'10ll'8. 201 

Whoee diamond!! lit the paaaage of his blade, 

Reeted, like mockery, on hie cover'd brow. 

The eoldiera of the king trod to and fro, 

Clad in the garb of battle; and their chie~ 

The mighty J"oab, stood beeide the bier, 

And gazed upon the dark pall stadfaaUy, 

As ifhe fe11r'd the elumberer might stir. 

A. slow step startled him. He graap'd his blade 

As if a trumpet rang; but the \lent Corm 

Of David enter'd 1 and he gave comiDAIId, 

ln a low tone, to his few followers, 

AndleR him with his dead. The Icing atood 11till 

Till the laat echo died : then, thl'OWing olf 

The sackcloth from his brow, and laying b&ck 

The pall from the still feato1•ea of hie c6ild, 

H e bow'd his head upon him, and broke forth 

In the resi.etleaa eloquence of woe : 

.. A.laa I my noble boy! th&t thou sbonld'lt die! 

Thou, who wert tnAde eo beautifully fair I 

That death should settle in thy glorious eye, 

And leave hie atilln8811 in this clustering hair I 

How could he mark thee for the eilent tomb I 

My proud boy, Absalom I 

" Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill, 

As to my bosom I have tried to prees thee I 

How was I wont to feel my pnlaea thrill, 

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to careaa thee, 

.And bear thy sweet 'my father I ' from theee dumb 

And cold lips, Absalom I 

"But death is on thee: I shall bear tl.te gush 

Of music, and tlle voices of the young; 

.And life will p&88 me in the mantling blu.ah, 

And the dark treaeee to the eon winds fiung; 

But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt co we 

'J'o meet me, Absalom I 

11 

And ob ! when I o.m stricken, and my heart, 

Like a bruised reed, i.e waiting to be broken, 

HoW' will ita love for ~hee as I depart, 

Yearn for thine ear to drl.nk its laat deep toktn l 

It were ao aweet amid dea~b'a gatlleriug gloom, 

To 11ee thee, Abea.lom l

20i 1'0llll8 01' ~ IIOCLt.L i.lro DOJDftlO Al'nO'l'lOJIS. 

"And now, farewell! 'Tia hard to give thee up, 

With death 10 like a gentle elumber on thee; 

And thy dark ain l-Ob I I could drink the oup, 

If from thia woe ita bitterne• had wou thee. 

May God han call'd thee, like a w&nderer, home, 

.Myloet boy, Absalom!" 

He conr'd up his &ce, and bow'd himself 

A moment on hia child: then, giving him 

A look of melting tenderness, he ·laap'd , 

Hie banda convulsively, ae if in prayer · 

And, aa if strength were given him of God 1 

He roee up calmly and composed the pall 

Fil'Dlly and decently-and left bim there 

A& if hia rest had been a breathing sleep. 

Wru.tro. 

l.o p iiaht-.fram fkt J~t. 

Tl:t.B Cll.lltled crag oC DrachenCels 

Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rbine, 

Whose brea.at of waters broadly swells 

Between the banks which bear the vine, 

And hills all rich with bloeaom'd trees, 

.And fields which promise corn and wine, 

And acatter'd citiea crowning these, 

wnose far white walls along them shine, 

Have strew'd a seene which 1 should see 

With double joy wert tlwu with me. 

And peaeant girls, with deep blue eyee, 

And banda which offer eurly ftowera, 

Walk smUing o'er thia pal'ftdiae; 

Above, the frequent feudlll towers 

Throu2h green lea vee lift their walla or gray, 

.Ancf many a rock which eteeply lowers, 

And noble arch in proud decay, 

Look o'er this vale of nutage bowera ; 

But one thing :want theee banks of Rhin& 

Thy gentle hand to elaep in mine I 

I 118lld the liliee given to me ; 

Though long before thy bAud they touch, 

I know that they muat wither'd be. 

But yet reject them DDt u 1uch ; 

' 

• II

For I have cherilh'd them u dear, 

Because they yet may meet thine eye, 

Aud guide thy soul to mine even here, 

When thou behold'a~ them drooping nigh, 

And knoweet them gat.her'd by the Rhine, 

And offer'd from my bent to thine I 

The river nobly fo!UD& and ilowa, 

The charm of this enchanted ground, 

And 1\ll its thousaud turns disclose 

Some fte11ber beauty Vllrying round : 

The haughtiest breast ita wish might bound 

Through life to dwell delighted bere; 

Nor could on enrtb a spot he found 

To nature and to me ao dear, 

Could thy dear eyea, in fOllowing mine, 

Still eweet.ln IIUll'8 these b&nb of Rhine I 

Braoll 

lgt .famrtam.. 

Wz talk'd with open hel\rt, and tongue 

Affectionate and trne 

.A. pair of friends, though I wae young, 

And Mattbeveeventy-two. 

We lay beneath a spreading ollk, 

Beeide a m08JJ1 seat; 

And from the tnrf a fountain broke, 

And gurgled at our feet. 

ct Now, Matthew I" said I," let ua mat.ch 

This water'e pleasant tune 

With some old border song. or catch 

That suits a summer's noon ; 

"'Or of the church-clock and the chimes 

Sing here beneath t-he aba.de 

That half-mad thing of witty rhrmu• 

Which you lAat April made I • 

In •lienee Matthew lay alld eyed 

Tbe apring beneath the tree; 

And thus the dea.r old man replied• 

The gray-hair'd man of glee:

204 1'01:¥8 01' TJB SOCIAL AND D0Kl!8'l'IO An'BCI'TOQ. 

"No check, no atay thla. Streamlet f"ean; 

How merrily it goea I 

'Twill murmur on a thoU811nd yeara 1 

Alld t!ow sa now it tlowL 

"And here on this delightful day, 

I cannot choose but think 

How oft, a vigorous man 1 I lay 

Beside this fountain's t>riuk. 

"My eyes are dim with childish teat"8o 

My hea.rt is idly atirr'd, 

For the same aound ia in my ean 

Which in those daya I beard. 

"Thus fares it &till in our decay! 

And yet the wiaer mind 

Mourns leea for what age takes away, 

Than what it lea vee behind. 

11 

The blackbird amid lea.fy trees, 

The lark above the hill, 

Let l0011e their carole when they please, 

Are quiet when they will. 

"With nature never do tky wage 

A foolish etrife; they aee 

A happy Y?uth, a.nd their old age 

Ia beaut1ful and free : 

"But we are preSB'd by heavy laWll, 

Anli often, glad no more, 

We wear a face of joy, because 

W e have been glad of yore. 

"If there ia one who need a bemoan 

Hia kindred laid in earth, 

The household hearts that were hie own, 

It ia the man of mirth. 

"My days, my Friend, are almost gone, 

My life baa been approved, 

And many love me ; bitt by none 

Am I enough beloved." 

"Now both himaelfand me he wrongs, 

The man wbo thus oomplain.a I 

I live and eing my idle eon~ 

Upon these happy plain.a.

10DIB Ol' TD I!IOOtAL Ali'D DOJDIII"''tt .un:cnon. 90~ 

"And, MAtthew, for thy children dead 

ru be a SOD to thee I" 

At thia he graap'd my hand, and u.id, 

14 

Alaa I that cannot be." 

We roee up !rom the fountain aide; 

.A.nd dowu the smooth deecent 

Of the green sheep-track did we glide, 

And through tlie wooda we wont; 

And ere we came to Leon.a.rd'e rook, 

He sang th011e witty rhymes 

About the crazy old church-clock, 

And the bewilder'd chimes. 

WoaDSWORTIL 

~ itar b'a• uft 1qt Jinbtmg iha.• 

A er.u hu left the lrindling aky- 

A lovely northern light; 

How m1111y planets are on high, 

:Bot that haa left the night! 

I miaa ita bri~bt familiar r~. 

It waa a fr1eod to me ; 

Aeaociate with my native place, 

And tb011e beyond the &ea. 

It roae upon our Englieb sky, 

Shone o'er our English land, 

And brought back many a loving eye, 

And many a gentle hand. 

It 10em'd to answer to my thought, 

It call'd the past to mind, 

And with ita welcome preaenoe brought 

All I had left behind. 

Tht~ TOyage it lights no longer, end's 

Boon on a foreign shore ; 

How CAD I bot recall the friends 

That 1 may see no more t 

/

l!i(M5 

t'ODUI 07 m• SCICIUL A1ID DOJdfttC .lJ71X7l'lO~I. 

Freeb from ilbe pRin it wu to par~ 

How could I belli' the paint 

Yet .troag the omen in my heart 

That IIAJ•-We meet again. 

Meet with a deeper, dearer love: 

For abeen•ce llhewl the WOl'tb 

Of aU from 1Whioh we thtn re~move, 

FrieDda. home, and native earth. 

Thou lovely polar ata.r, mine eyes 

Still turn '•d. the fifllt on thee, 

Till I have f'elt a sad surprise 

That none• look'd up wlt.h me. 

But thou haat sunk upon the wave, 

Thy radiant plAce nnknoWD ; 

I seem to etnnd beeide a grave, 

And standi by it alone. 

Farewell I a.h, would to me were g{Yml 

A power upon thy light I 

What worde1 upon our Engliab heaT&» 

Thy loYin 1 g rays ehould write ! 

Kind meee&Jgee of love and hope 

Upon thy raye abould be; 

Thy sbinillfl· orbit •hould have ll'lope 

Scarcely Emough for me. 

Oh 1 

Caney Vl!lin, as It is fond, 

And little• needed too ; 

My friends I~ I need 110t loot beyond 

My heart to look fot you. 

L. E. l.uoolll. 

I All mona reb of all I survey; 

My right there ie none to diepnte; 

From the ee•ntre all round to the •• 

I am lord of the fowl and the brubt'. 

0 Solitude I wh11re are the charm• 

That a&gE•B have seen in thy face 1 

Better dwell in the tnldlt of alArms 

Than reign in this horrible place.

POGGI

208 PODI8 OJ Tim SOOU.L A!ID DOIO'BI'IO A7n~Ct'~Oll& 

cfritnba. 

So101 I remember, and will ne'er forget ; 

My early friends, friends of my evil day : 

Friend& in my mirth, fdende in my mi.aery too, 

Friend& given by God in mercy a.nd in Ion • 

My couneellore, my comforten, aud guides, 

My joy in grief, my aecond blies in Joy; 

Companions of my young desires; Ul doubt, 

My oraclee, my wings in hifh punmit.. 

0, I remember, and will ne er forget 

Our meeting epote, our choaeu eacred houre, 

Our burning worda that utter'd all the aoul, 

Oar fe.eea beaming with unear~bly love ; 

SoiTOw with 110rrow sighing, hope with hope 

Exulting, heart embracing, heart entire I 

AI bird• of aoci.tJ. feather helping each 

Ria fellow's flight, we l!loar'd IDto the akie11, 

And ca.at the eloude beneath our feet, an•l enrth, 

With all her tardy leAden-footed c:aree, 

And talk.'d the speech, nnd ate the food of heaven ! 

Theee I remember, these aelecteat men, 

A,od would their names record ; but what a.vaile 

Jdy mention of their names f Before the throne 

They stand iUuetrioue 'mong the loudest harps, 

And will receive thee gl~~od, my friend and tbeil'II 

For all are friends in !leaven, all faithful frienda ; 

And many friendehipe in the days of time 

Began, are lasting bert', and growing atill ; 

So grows oura evermore, botli theirs aud mine. 

Pou.o~ 

tge :Jigkf a£ Dtgtt §au•· 

Orr in the stilly night 

Ere Blu.mber'• chain baa bound me, 

Fond Memory brings the light 

or other days around me : 

The emilea, the tears 

Of boyhood's years, 

The words of Jove then apoken : 

The eyea that shone, 

Now dimm'd and gone, 

The cheerful hearts now broken !

Thua ill the atilly ni~bt 

Ere alumber'a cba~n hu bound me, 

Sad Mentory b1inga the light 

Of other daye around me. 

Wheu I remember all 

The frieutl11eo liuk'd together 

l'ye aeen around me fall 

Like leaves in wiutry weather, 

I feel like one 

Who trend1 alone 

Some banquet-ball deeer~; 

Whose light& are fted, 

Wboae gnrlaude del\d, 

A.lld all but be departed I 

Thua in the etilly ni~ht 

Ere elumber'e cluuu haa bound me, 

Sad Memory brings the light 

or other daya around me. 

Moou. 

t~t ~iu.olntian .of lwn~•lJiJ· 

ALABI they had been friende in youth ; 

But whispering tongue& ca.n poi10u truth ; 

And cunatanoylivea in realm& above; 

.And life ia thot·oy; 11ud youth is vain : 

And to be wroth with one we love 

Doth work like m11dnen iu the brain • 

.A.ud thus it chanced, aa I divine, 

With Boland ancl Sir Leoline. 

Fl.cb apake word a of high died!\ In 

And insult to his heart'a Leat broth"r : 

They p!lrted-ne'or to meet 1\gttin I 

But never eitllea· found anutLer 

To free the hollow lleart from paining; 

They stood aloof, the ecare remaiDing, 

Like clilfa which have been rent asunder . 

.A dreary aea uow ilowe betweeu ; 

But neither bel\t, nor froat, nor thunder, 

Shall wholly do away, I ween, 

The marke of thl\t w-hich once hath been. 

001Jf.li.Ul0&. 

1>

'~' fout of'«)ndit ~obt. 

WBU twiligbt.-~ng ilaah 

Turns to th~'Pn~• abado,. dim,. 

And the seo., with gentle hWih, 

Brel\thea a dulcet l"eelper hymn; 

'Ti• 1weet to·beat"·the breeze· 

Join the lullaby above- 

But, oh! mcmnsweet thatt'tb'ew· 

le the voice of one we loTe; 

'Tis sweet to wake in· June 

To the ekylark?a mRtin la.y; 

To bear the thrush at noon 

Pouri ng music from the aprlly·; 

At eve to lend· our ear 

To the wooiag ,of the dove; 

But naught so eweet o.nd cle11r 

A.a the voice of one we love. 

Adth'ongh, wbeu yello1'8 are Bow~ 

A chii.nge of scene or lot 

Each other cberish'd tone 

From our memory may blot, 

A sound there is that· yet, 

Whatever chnnge we prove, 

We never can forge~ - 

'Ti.a the Toioe of one we Ion. H'otu.OJJ SKI'l'n.. 

'o a .!Jistnnt· ~iiu~ 

WIIY art thou silent 1 Ia thy love a plant 

Of such weak fibre· th$t the treacherous 1\ir 

Of absence withers what. waa•onoe so fait•1 

Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant 1 

Yet have·-roy thoughts for thee been vi~lant, 

Bound to thy service with unceasing care- 

The miud's lenat gMlerous wiali a mendican~ 

For nought but· what thy happiness could spare. 

Speak !-though thinot't. warm heart,. once free to bold 

A thousand tender pleasure~, thine and mine, 

Be left mot'&''dBIJolate. more·dreary cold 

Than a foi'IIAken bird'il·ueat-6ll'd with enow 

'Mid its own bash of le&tleaa•eglantine- 

Speak, that my torturing doubte their end m"y know 1 

W ORDSWOR'rlL

1!0DJI OJ' TH& IIOCULA.lm DOICBBJ'IO .uumtOlf& ill 

IT atanda in a sunny meadow, 

The house eo moaay and bl'Own, 

Wilb ita cumbrous old atone chimneya; . 

And the gr:ey· roof sloping olown. 

Tba trees fold their gr een arms arounJit, 

T he trees a century old; 

And the wino go chant ing through them, 

Aud t he eunbeama drop their· goldJ 

The cowalipe spring in the mnreh'ear 

And Lhe roses bloom on the hill; 

And beside the brook in the paaturcs · 

The berda go feeding at will 

The chililren h:l.ve·gone and left tbem=- 

Theyait in the sun alone f ' 

And the old wife's eiU'B are failing 

.A. abe hlU'ka to the well-lulown toD& 

That won her heart in· her girlhood, 

That hii.B soothed her in many a caTe, 

And praises h

212 l'OJIXII 01' Tl1B SOCLU. ~Jl DOllllll8n.C .AI'nCI:lOJ'S. 

Though dimm'd her eye'a bright azure, 

And dimm'd her Lair'a young gold: 

The love in her girlhood plighted 

Baa nner grown dilu nor old. 

They .at in ~ in the aunahine, 

Till the day wae al.moat done; 

ADd then, at ita close, an angel 

Stole over the tbreebold...tone. 

He folded their banda tor.tber- 

He toneb'd their eyeli a with balru; 

ADd their l.ut breeth f!06l.ed upward, 

Like the cloee of a eolemn pUJm. 

Like a bridal pair they tl"anr-'. 

The unseen, ruyl!tic:al road, 

That lead& to the beauill'ul city, 

11 

Whoee bnilder and ruaker i.a God." 

Perhape in tb~tt miracle country 

Tl1ey will give her !oat youth back; 

.Anti the flow en of a vanieh'd epriog-time 

Will Lloom in the epirit'a traCk. 

One draught from the living watere 

Shall call back his mnnhooo'a prime; 

AD•l eternal yean shall meuure 

The love that outlived time. 

Bat the ehpes that they len behind them, 

The wrinkles and silver hair 1 

Made holy w UJI by the ki.ee 

The angel ba.d )•rioted there, 

'V'e will hide nray 'neath the willow•, 

When the day ia low in the weet ; 

Where the sunbeams cannot find them, 

Nor the winds disturb their reet. 

And we'll suffer no tell-tale tombetone, 

With it3 age and date, to ri&e 

O'er the two who are old uo longer, 

Iu the Father'a hou&e in the ekica.

.l'OJX& em TU IIOOl4L .uu DO~ .uncmon. 'il:6 

".Ah, ab I old worn~ut soldier, is it you 1" 

Tbroagb the room ranged the imprieon'd b umble bee, 

And bOmb'

!16 roDIB 07 'l'lm SOCU.L AlJD DOKUTlO .AJ'nCTIOl'l'l. 

YotrNo follce now floeken in every wbert', 

To gather May.-buakete and smelling brere; 

And home they hasten the poel11 to digbt, 

.And all the kirk pillnre ere daylight~ 

With hawthorne huds and sweet eglantin~. 

And gnrlanda of rose a and eope-in-wine. 

Bicker, thi• morro"'', 110 longer ngo, 

I eaw a ehole of shepherds out-go, 

With 1inging, and ebouting, and jolly ohere; 

Before them rode a lusty tabrere, 

That to the many a hornpipe plAy'd 

'\Vbereto they daunced each one with hi• llll\id. 

To eee tbeae folke make such jovis&unce, 

MAlle my heart 11fter the pipe to daunee. 

Tho' to the greene-wood they epeeden them aU, 

To feteben home May with thetr musical, 

And home they bringen in a royal throne, 

Crowned aa a king, anrl his queen attone 

Waa Lady Flora, on whom did attend 

A fayre flock of faeries, and a ft·eah band 

Of lovely nympha. 0 that I were there, 

'l'o helpeD the ladles their May-buab beAr I 

Sruar.n. 

8bif•tm jijrotfJ. 

How merrily, from dlatant towers, 

:Ring round the village belle I now on the gale 

Tbey riee 'lrith gl"arlual swell, diatinct IUid loud ; 

Anon they die upon the pensive ear, 

Melting in faintest music.-They beape11k 

A day ofJ'ubilee, and oft they beu 

Commix' , along the unfrequented shore, 

The 1011nd of villnge dance and tabor loud, 

Startling the muaiog ear of eolitudo. 

8uch ie the jocund wako of Whiteuutide, 

When, with mirthful pmbola, all the day 

The ruetic revellers ply the muy dance 

Oo the 1mooth-ehaven ,veeu, and then at eve 

Full man.y a tale of anetent day• aoe• round. 

WBmL

JIDlWd of fbe ~nab 'migrant. 

I'x mtting on the stile, MAry, 

Where we eat aide by aide, 

On a bright May moruing long ago, 

When first you were my brine: 

The corn waa springing fresh 11nd grfen, 

And the lark sang loud and higli 

And the red WM on your lip, Mary, 

And the love"light in your eyP. 

The plac11 ia little changed, Mary, 

The day is bright na then, 

The lark's loud aong is in my e11r, 

And the corn is green again ; 

But I miaa the soft clABp of your hand, 

And your breath, w11rm on my cheek, 

And I etilllteep liat'ning for the words 

You never more will apenk, 

'Tie but a atep down yonder !nne, 

And the little church stAnds ne11r; 

The church where we were wed, Mary, 

I aee the spire from here. 

But the grave-yard lies between, Mn1'Y, 

And my step might brenk your rest; 

'For I've laid you, clnrling! down to sleep 

With yonr ~by on your breast. 

I'm nry lonely now, Mary, 

For the poor make no new friends; 

But oh I they love tht> better still 

The few our Fl\ther sends! 

And you were all I hn.d 1 Mt~ry, 

My blessing and my pride : 

There's nothing left to care for now, 

Since my poor Mary died. 

Yours was the good brave he11rt, MAry, 

Tb~t still kt>pt hoping on, 

When the trust in Godnad lef\ my soul, 

And my arm's young strengtla wa.s gone i 

There was comfort ever on gour lip, 

And the kind look on your brow- 

1 bl888 you, ~Mary, for that eame, 

Though you cannot hear me Dow.

~! 8 l'ODl8 OY TB& 8t)OUL .Aim DOJOrBI'IO ·Ai'li'&CmO:U. 

I tha.nlc you. for the patient emile 

When your bel\rt was fit· to break, 

When t.behun~er: pa.i.A wn~ ~a.wi~g tbere, 

And you ihid i~, for my sake ! 

I Lleaa .you 1ror tbe pleasant word, 

When your heart was sad and sore 

Oh! Iin.thi!I.Wtful you. are. gone, M.a.t',1 1 

'Vho1•e grief C&ll't t•eaoh you. more I 

l'm b'id,liug .you a long farewell, 

My Mary,, kind And true ; 

But l'JI not for~et you, darling-I 

In the lalltd l m going to ; 

They aay there's bread and work for r&l~ 

And the Etun a hi nee always there; 

But.J'll not forget olJ Jreland, 

Were it fifty times ae fail·. 

And often ilJ those grand old wooda 

1'11 ait, an.d mut my eyes, 

And my he~itrl will travel back ~in 

To the place where MAry lies; 

And I'll think leee the li~tle etlle 

Where wo aat aide by aide, 

.An.d the apriwg4J,g ool'D, ~ud t,he bright MAy moru, 

Wheu .fire,t you were ~y b1~ide. 

Mas.: :CLACitWOOl> • 

. §om.uti.c Jq6:. 

0, LOVE oflovesi! to thy white hand is given 

or earthly happiue&S tlie golllen key: 

Thine are the JOJfO'QB hours of winter's. even 

When the babes cling around their father's knee; 

And thine. the voice that, on the midnight. sea, 

Melts tlie l'UUe Dl&riuer with thoughts or home, 

Peopling the gloom with All he longl! to 1ee. 

Caou.

!Jam.cati~ ,feau. 

TxLL roe,. on what holy ground 

May Domestic Pence be found 1 

Halcyou dau~hter of the skies, 

Far on !earful wiugs she flies, 

From the porup of seeptred ah.te, 

From the rebel'a noiay hate; 

I n a cottaged v.ale she dwel~ 1 

Listening to the S:Lbbatb' beua I 

S till around be.r steps are seen 

Spotless Honour's meeker mien, 

Love, the aire of pleasing !ear~, 

.. Sorrow·&IDiling through.ber teua, 

Alld, cQIU!cioo.s of' the paat.~mploy, 

Memory, boeom..epciog ef joy. CoLEruoo&. 

~~t fmanf . rdumi~ 'J011Uixllitl> Jn~m · ,~ ls '.oil. 

,F.AUIT a11.d.aweet 

Twilight falls round tl1e peasant's homeward fuet, 

Who, slow returniug from his t.Nik of toil, 

Sees the low sunset gUll the cultured soil, 

Andl though such n4dtnnce·round him brigl'tly glowa, 

Marks the sml\llapark hls cottage wiudow throws. 

Still. as his h tnl'l. forestalls his weary pace, 

Fondly he d1-e&ma of eo.ch familiar-face, · 

Recalls the treasures of hls narrow life- 

His rosy chUdren and hie sunburnt wlfe, 

To whom lli.8 coruiug is the chief event 

Of simple dnys in cheerful labour spent. 

The rich man's chariot hath gone whlrliug paat, 

And these poor cottagers have only caat · 

One careless glance ou all that show of .pride, 

Then to ti.Jeir tnaks tu1·n'd quietly aaide; 

But him they wai~ for, him they welcome home, 

Fi..r.'d senti nels look forth. to see him co~e; 

The fagot sent for :w.beu the fire grew .dizn. 

Tbe frugal meal prep1U"ed, are &II for him; 

For him the watching of that sturdy bor, 

For ltim thoee smiles tif.tendernees and JOY 1 

For him-who plods hiaaauntering way alonf, 

Whistling the fragment of IODl(l.villa.ge aong 

·HoN;:Mu. NoaroN.

'bilbrm. 

CoX11 to m~, 0 ye children I 

l'or I bear you at your pllly, 

And the questions that perplu\1 nto 

Have vo.ni.eh'd quite away. 

Ye open the eutern windows, 

That look townrcla the ~ron , 

Where thoughts are singing &wallowa 

And the brook.& of morning run. 

In your h~arta nre the birde nnd the wnahine, 

In youT thoughts the brooklet'e flow ; 

But in mine ie the wincl of autumn, 

And the first fall oC the anow. 

Ah I whnt would the world be to ua 

If the Children were no more 1 

We 1hould dread the deaert hehind Ul 

Worse than the dark before. 

Wbnt the lea vee Rre to the forest. 

With light and air for food, 

Ere their sweet and tender juice~~ 

Have been harden'd into wood,- 

Thnt to the world are Children ; 

Through them it fePlB the glow 

or a brighter and sunnier eli mate 

Than ruches the trunks below. 

Come to me, 0 ye Children I 

And whisper in my ear 

What the b i1-ds and the winds are ainging 

In your sunny atmosphere. 

For what are nil onr oontrivinp, 

And t.be wisdom of our book~, 

When compared wit.h your enrcaaea, 

And the gladneaa of your looks 1 

Ye nre better than all the ballada 

That ever were wog or eaid ; 

For ye are living poems, 

And all the :rea~ are dead. Lo111onu.ow. 

-

'hilbboo)). 

0 Taoo bright thing, freeh frm the band of God ; 

The motions of thy dancing limbe are away'd 

By the unceaaiDg mwsi.c of thy being I 

Nearer I aeem to God when lool(ing on th11e. 

'Ti• agea since He ma.de hia youngest star- 

Ria hod wa.a on thee as 'twere yeaterdl\y 1 

Thou later revelation I Silver atream, 

Breaking with laughter from the lAke divine 

Whence all things ftow. 0 bright aud ainging babe, 

What wilt thou be hereafter 1 

AI&x. SKITs. 

Cht * ~tipt Df mli l\'oibn'• fidmt. 

Os tb/\t tboae lips had 111Dgu&ge l Life hu pua'd 

With me but roughly aince r heard thee la.at. 

Tboae lipa are thine-thy own aweet emile I see, 

The aame that oft in childhood aolaoed me ; 

Voice only fails, elae how diatinct they say, 

"Grieve not, my child: ehaae all thy feiU'II a Wily I" 

The meek intelligence of those deat• eyea 

(Bleat be tho art that can immorto.liZ&, 

The art that baffiea time'a tyrannic claim 

To quench it) het•e ahiuea on

Ht roZJa~.o.. ·m• . eoo&U: un oo...,.r~ unorron. 

I beard tho bell toll'J Oil thy· barial..!ay, 

laaw the hearse tbnt bore thee elow away, 

And, turning from.my uonery-wl~, dl'Mr'' 

A long, l011g 11igh. IW•l wept~ lut • atiit~n· l 

But waa it anuh.t It waa. Wlrere-i.bou art goJRt 

A die111 and ,J&rewells-uo a. ·eound uekooW'DI • 

May I but meet tht'e on tbatlJMcefulebore, 

1'bo parting aound ahall pue mylipe·uo·motei I 

Tby m11.ioleoa, g,ieved thenaelvea At my'OOnwm; 

Oft gMe me promise· oC tlry ·quickl returtu· 

What ardently I wiah'd, I.long bellevt~d 

Ant! diaappointed still, wu atilhleeeiv;d. 

BY. diaappoiutme11t every day beguiled, 

Dope of to-morrow even from a cbild. 

Thua many a aaJ to-morrow came and wen\, 

Till, all my stock- of infaut sorrow epeot, 

I learn'd d last submiuion to my Jot ; 

BUt, though lltas •leplored thee, ue'er forgo~ - 

Where :~ we dwelt our Dluoe I.e· heard· noo100re 1 

Children not thioe have·tro

Adda.joy-tbduty 1 makee me-~ta.i-to ·pa.Y' 

Sncb.JuJIIoun to thee ns 'Dly·namben mAY·: 

Perhaps a !tail memorial, but-aioce~1 - 

Not acotn'J in heaYeo, ~bough litUo notioed..beftl 

· Could Time, bts fti~ht TeVersed, l'ea~ore tlie·honrs, 

Wheo{ playing-with thy veature'a Ueaued floweN; 

The violet, the pink, a.nll jeaaamiueo, 

I prick'd·lhem mto·pnperwith·o:piu, 

(And thon•wut happrer-thatFmyself'the·wbile; 

Wookt'at softly apeak, nnd B~roke rur bead,and smile,} 

Could thoae few ple8lll\nt boui'B agatn appear, 

Might oue wish bring tb'em, would I wish them bere I 

I woald not trust my heart-~he dear delight 

Seema ao to be deait-eri; perhaps I might. 

But no ;-what liere we calt our life is such, 

So little to be loved, and thou eo much, 

That I should1ll'r equite t liee to coustraio 

Tby nubound spirit into bouda ~in. 

Thou, as a gaUant·barlri,Ctom· .A:lbioo'a cOAst· 

(The storma· all weather'd, and the ocean · oroaa'~) 

Shoots into port at'aeme ·w.ell·h'llYen'd isle, 

Where apices breathe, aud.brightar aeaaons-sm1le, 

There site quiescent on the Jloode, that show 

Her beauteoua. fo~rn reSected clear below, 

While ail-s irupreguated with iucense play 

Around her, fnnuing light ber streamers ~y; 

So thou, with sails how swift.! haab reach u the 'Shore 

"Where tempe.ts nenr beat nor biUGws roar;" 

And thy loved ooneort ou the dangerou.a tide 

Of Life, long since has 11ncbor'd by thy aide. 

But me, scllt'ce hoping to attain that reet, 

Alwaye from port wil.bheld, always diatr891'•\- 

Me bowling bluts d-rive deYiou, tempeat-toet, 

Sails ript, eeama· opening wide, and compaaa l06t; 

And dn.y by dn.y some current'e thwarting• force 

Sets me more distant from 1\ proeperoua coune ; 

Yet-0 J· thll thou_ght, that thou ort eaftl 1 nnd be I 

ThAt thou~bt is JOY, arrive what may to me. 

MJ bout 18 not that I deduce my hirth 

From·loillll euthroned, and rulers of the ea-rth;. 

But higher far my proud:pretenaion• rise-.. 

The eon of parent& pass'd an to the ek.iea.

.And now fareweU!-Time unrevoked haarun 

Ilia wonted colll'Re, yet what I wiah'd ia done. 

By Contemplation's help, not sought in vain. 

I aeem to have lived my childhood o'el' again; 

To have renew'd the joys that once were miD~ 

Without the sin of violating thine; 

And, while the wings of Fancy still are tree. 

And I can view this mimic show of thee, 

Time haa but half succeeded in his thefl; 

').'hyseU 1-emoved, thy power to soothe me le~ 

CowntL 

A Dl!.A.Til-BltD OOllPOSITIOlf. * 

TB.otroBTS of home ! how sad they twine 

Round this exiled heart of mine ; 

My cheek hnth felt for many yeiU"'I 

The scalding of thoge parting tea1-a; 

And on my spirit ever dwells 

The burden of our laat farewell& 

Words of home I how welcome here, 

Oft to strengthen, oft to cheer ; 

Fix'd by love beyond the t'a.n,ge 

Of the scatt'riug hand of change; 

But the hea1·ts thnt gave them worth 

Never more shall meet on earth. 

Scenes of home ! how oft they rise, "!":, 

Back'd by Memory's tinted skies; ;. 

Like island-gems on Ocean's breaat 

Glowa every Apot that love hath blest; 

Till darkne:!ll rises o'er the deep, 

.And bids the exiled gazer weep.

lbt !Jl!ing ~ou to t~e ilo.e 5loa'-Dm. 

BIU'OB.B thy leaves thou comeet once more, 

White bloBSom c.f the 11loe I 

Thy leaves will co~:ne a.a heretofore ; 

But thie poor heart, ita troublea o'er, 

Will then lie lovr. 

Sweet violets in tb.e budding grove, 

Peep where the glad wavea run ; 

Tbe wren below, t1he thrush above, 

Qf bright to-mOrt'(J•W'a joy ar.d love 

Sing to the sun. 

Aud where the l'Of~&-leaf, ever bold, 

Hears beea chant bywllll to God, 

The breeze·bow'd palm, m0111'd o'er with gold, 

Smiles on the well in summer col

Oh l Bpring may come, and lpring may go; 

Flowers, 8Uilllhine, ~ot cheOl' them : 

This living heaTt, thil bn«flt yoii'Dg life, 

Will be DO lcunger near them. 

Two lights there weTe within the h011M, 

Like angela 1'01JDd them IDO'riDg> 

Oh I mast tb.a.e two be paned DOw, 

So lovely and ao loving f 

No longer ontlhe same soft couch 

Their pleu&~lt ~be taking I 

No longer by e1aeh other's amika 

Be greeted ai~ their •&Jc!.or I 

N o longer, by 1eaeh other's aide 

Over one book, thy lut embn.ce, 

Tbl.t Joy, tlwt life ia ending. 

Heneeforth tho.n wm be all alone ; 

WbAL ebalt tbon do 1 

poor weeper t 

Oh, ht:1man lovt! I oh, llnman woe I 

h there & pang yet deeper 1 

.Ah I yea, the e:yee perceive no more; 

The last tlear word ia apoken ; 

The hand retn1118 no preaanre no"' ; 

Heart, heart,. thou must be broken I 

Can it live on ,Nitbout that love 

For "'hicb ita pulee beat ever 1 

.AIM that loving, trusting hearte 

Must ache, And bleed, &ad aenr I 

Child, cease thy murmuring ; God Ia by 

To OIUeal that mortel prison. 

'M.otberJ look up ; for, like our Lord, 

Tby Dleii!Sd t~De ia risen : 

Baise thy bo"''d bead, poor bl"'lial!d reed ; 

Hope comee to.the belining. 

FAther, be strong, be stron~ in faith; 

The dead, the dead is livwg I 

Even from out-ward thin~a draw peMe; 

The Jon~ night-watch Ja ended ; 

The monung sun upriaeth now 

In new day·1~lory splendid.

SoL through the llight of mortAl life, 

Y oar angel one hath etriYen : 

The eternal sana lhine not 10 bright 

.A. the redeem'd in heaven. 

Tojoin the epirita of the ja.t 

Your ahoeen hath departed : 

Be oomforted, be comfoned, 

Ye braieed and broken-hearted I 

rve !Jtatk af ltar;. 

lr I had thought thou couldat have died, 

I millht not weep for thee; 

But I forgot, when by thy side, 

That thou couldst mortal be: 

It nenr through my mind bad put' 

The time would e'er be o'er, 

And I on thee should look my lut, 

And thou abouldst emile no more l 

ADd still upon that face I look. 

And think 'twill emile again; 

And still the thought I will not broolt, 

That I must look in n in I 

Bat wl1en I apeak-thou doet not aay 

What thou ne'er left'et anaaid ; 

And now I feel, a.e well I may, 

Sweet M11ry I thou art dead I 

IC thou wouldet eta.y e'en ae thou art, 

All cold and allserene- 

1 etill might prees thy silent heart, 

And where thy i!tniles have been I 

While e'en thy chill bleak coree I have, 

Thou aeemeat still mine own; 

Bnt there I lay thee in thy grave 

And I am now alone ! 

I do not think, "Where'er thou art, 

Thou b&.st forgotten me ; 

And I, perhaps, may Boothe thi• bean 

In thwking, too, of thee: 

Yet there wae roUIId thee auoh a dawn 

or light, ne'er eeen beforel 

.A.IIWoy never could have C1l'awn 1 

And never can reatore I 

Wo~

.228 POBKB OJ' THlll SOCIAL AND DOKB81'10 An'BC'l'lONB. 

~baib b£ ~llbt 'brl$htbtl. 

IN this dim world of clouding cares, 

We nrely know, till wilder'd eyes 

See white wings le88ening up the skit!s, 

The angels with us unawares. 

And thou hast stolen a jewel, Death ! 

Shall light thy dark up like a star. 

A beacon Kindling from afl\r 

Our light of love, and fainting faith. 

Through tears it gleams perpt~tually, 

And glitters through the thickeat glooms, 

Till the ete;rDAl morning comes 

To light us o'er the jasper sea. 

With our best bnncb in tendere.at leaf 

We've strewn the way our Lord doth come; 

And, ready for the harvest home, 

Hia reapers bind our ripest sheaf. 

Our beautiful bird of light hath fted : 

Awhile she sat with folded wings 

Sang round us a few hoverings 

Tben straightway into glory sped. 

And white-wing'd angel11 nurture her; 

With heaven's white radiance robed and crown'd, 

And all love's purple glory round, 

She summers on the hills or myrrh. 

Through childhood's mornin~-land, serene 

She walk'd betwixt ua twam, like love ; 

While, in a robe of light abovt>, 

He1• better angel walk'd unseen. 

Till life's highway broke bleak and wild; 

Then, lest bel' starry garments trail 

In mil'e, heart bleed 1 

and cqura,ge fail, 

The ungel'a arms caugnt up the child. 

Her wave oflife bath backward roll'd 

To the great ocean ; on wboee shore 

We wander up and down, to store 

Some treuurea of the times of old :

And aye we seek &Dd hunger on 

For p?eciona pearla and relict rnre, 

Strewn on the B&llda for ua to wu.r 

At heart, for love of her that's gone. 

0 weep no mo?e ! there yet is balru 

In Gilead I Love doth ever ehed 

Ricb healing where it nestlea-.pread 

O'er desert pillowa some gt·een palm I 

Strange glory etream11 througl1 life'a wild rente, 

And through the open door of death 

We see tbe heaven that beckoneth 

To the belovM going hence. 

God'a ichor fills t he heart.a that bleed ; 

The beat fruit loads the bt-oken bough : 

• ADd in the wounds our sufferings plough, 

Immortal love sows sovereign eeed. 

M.'\SBY.Y'. 

IN youth I died, in maiden bloom; 

With gentle hand Death touch'd my cheek, 

And with bia tonch there came to me 

.A spirit calm Rnd meek. 

He took from me all whth t~ atay: 

He waa ao kind, I fe&l"'d him not; 

My friends beheld my sloW" decline, 

And mourn'd my joyle88 lot. 

They saw but eorrow, I deecried 

The bliu that nevel' fadea away; 

1'hey felt the ahadow of the tomb, 

I mark'd the heavenly day. 

I beard them sob, &a through the night 

They kept their watch ; then on my ear, 

.Amid the sobbing, fell a voioe 

Their Bllguish could not. hear.

ia() I'QJIIIIlCir Tld IJOOU.L .d'D »O..UC ~IG. 

" Come and fear not I " it eoAly eried; 

"We wait to lead thee to thy home:" 

Then leapt my ~irit to reply, 

"I come I I long to come I" 

I heard them whiaper o'er my bed, 

" Anuther hour and ahe muat diel" 

I waa too weak to anawer them, 

Tba.t eu.dleae life waa nigh. 

Another hour, with bitter teare 

'They mourn'd me aa untimely dead, 

And heard not how I eang a aong 

Of tl'iumph o'er their head. 

They bore me to the grave, and thought 

Hoy Jl&TrOY waa my resting-place ; 

My aoul waa roving high and wide 

At will t.hr®gh bOundless ap~. 

They clothed themselves in robes of black, 

Through the sad aialea the ftquiem l'IUlg, 

Meanwhile the white-robed choirs or heaven 

A holy pll8&ll8&1lg. 

Oft from my Paradise I come 

To viait thoae I love on earth; 

I enter, unl;"lrceived, the door; 

Theyatt aroiUid the hearth, 

And talk in aadden'd tones of me, 

Aa one thAt never ClU1 return; 

Row little think they that I atan\f 

Among them as they mour.o. ! 

But Time will ease their grie~ and Death 

Will purge the darkness from their eyes; 

Then shall they triumph when they lejU1l 

Heaven's eolemn mysteries. ANoN. 

-- 

laat.tt;• af * :Jngt!•. 

Wm the,houre ol· Day are numbe:r'd, 

.And tbe voioee of the Night 

Wake the beH.er aoul, that alumbevd, 

To a holy, calm delight;

POJDIB Or 'I'D I!IOCIAL AlfD tlOlBS'I'tO ~Olf8. 231 

Ere the eveniag lampe are lighted 

And, like phantoms grim and t;i~ 

Shadowdrom tM fitful fire-light.. 

Danoe upon ihe.pulourw.ll; 

Then the for1111 ofthedeparlecl 

Enter at the open door; 

The belov6d, the true-hearted, 

Come to vilit me once more; 

He, the youn~ and strong, who cheriah'd 

Noble longJnga for the &triCe, 

By the road-eide fell and perieh'd. 

W ea:ry wit.h the march of life I 

They, the ·boly ones, and weakly, 

Wbo tbe Cl'()88 of ellfreri.Dg bore, 

Folded their pale banda eo meekly, 

Spake with ua on earth no more ; 

An1l with them the being beauteous 

Who unto m.y !outh waa giV'fln, 

More than all t.hwga el.ae to lon me, 

And ia now a saint in heaven. 

With a slow and uoist~leaa t'ootatePI 

Comes that meeseo~r divine, 

Takee the vaoe.nt cbatr beeide me, 

Laya her gentle hand in miDe ; 

And ehe site and ga.zea at me 

With thoee deep "nd tender eyea, 

Like the stars, so still and aainr,.lilte, 

Looking do-wnward from the ek.iee. 

Utter'd not, yet comprehended, 

Is the spirit'• voiceleaa prayer • 

Soft rebuke!\ in bleaain~ e.nded, 

'Breathing from her lipe of air. 

0, though oft depre88 1 d and lon.&ly, 

All my fean an laid aaide, 

If I but remember ooly 

Such aa th811e have liv~ ~~Ali diedt 

LoiiGJ'ZLWW.

23iil 

rOEliB 01' Ta& SOO=u.l. 4lfD DOJ08"1'10 .t.J'RCJ'IO.ll'& 

~ngt!-.i.ongs. 

TaOBlt halting tones that aound to yon, 

Are not the tonea I hear; 

But voicea oli the loved and loat 

Then meet; my longing ear. 

I hear myan,gel mother'• voice 

Those wer13 the word a she Auog; 

I hear my brother's ringing tones, 

.As ouce 0111 earth they rung ; 

And friencls that walk in white above 

Come rouD,d me like a cloud, 

And far abo1•e those el\rtbly notes 

Their singiug aounda aloud. 

There may b~ discord ae you eay; 

Those voices poorly ring; 

Bot there's 11.0 discord in th11 strain 

Those upp

on&B 0~ TO BOCJAL AJID DOMJIB'l'IO AFFBCTJOliB. 233 

Taou art .not dud; thou art not gone to dust; 

No line ofall thy loveline88 shall fall 

To formle88 ruin, emote by Time, and thrust 

Into the solemn gulf that covers alL 

Thou canst not wholly perish, though the &od 

Sink with ita viol eta closer to thy brenet; 

Though by the fl'et of generntions trod, 

The bead-stone crumble from thy place of rest. 

I keep for thee the living love of old, 

A..lld seek thy place in nu.ture as • child 

Whose ha.nu is parted from hie playmates' hold, 

Wanders and cl'ies along some dreary wild. 

When in the watches of' my heart I hear 

The messages of purer life, and know 

The footatepa of thy spirit lingering nenr 

The darkness bides the way that I should go. 

Ca.nlit thou not bid the empty realms restore 

That form, the symbol of tby heavenly part 1 

Or in the ~elds of barren eile'!ce pour 

That vo1ce, the perfect tnUSJt: of thy heart 1 

Oh once I once bending to these widO'III''d lips 

fake back the tender warmth of life ft·om me; 

Oh, let thy kisses cloud with swift eclipse 

The light of mine, and give me death with thee 1 

BJ.TARD TULOR. 

§ana gor(t h)l. 

IN the silence of my chamber 

When the night is still and deep, 

And the drowsy heave of ocean 

Mutters in ita charmM Bleep, 

on I hear the angel-voices 

That have thrill'd me long ago- 

Voices of my lost companions, 

Lying deep beneath the anow. 

I 

I

234 l'OIIMit 0? Tl1l: IIOOLAL .A!rt> DOliflr3l'IC APnariOKS. 

0, the~~ I remember, 

In the gay and eunny spring, 

When O'!lr laughter made the thickets 

..Ud the arching alley• rin1 I 

0 the merry b\U'Ilt of gladneu J 

0 the soft and tender tone I 

0 the whisper never utter'd 

Save to ODe fond eu- alone t 

0 the light of life that aparkled 

In those bright and bounteous eyea ! 

0 the blush of happy beauty, 

Tell-tAle of the beart'a awpriae I 

0 the radiant light that girdled 

Field a.nd foreat, land and sea, 

When we all were young togetb~r, 

And the earth wa.e new to me I 

Where a.re now tbe fl owers we tended 1 

Wither'd, broken, branch and stem ; 

Where are now the hopes we cherish'd 1 

Bcatter'd to the winda with them. 

For ye 1 

too, were flowers, ye dear oues I 

Nuri!ed in hope and rea.r'd in love, 

Looking fondly ever upward 

To the clear blne heaven abov!l. 

AnoUll'. 

Me it no:t eiuu.t to t~mh, ~u.euftu. 

Is it not sweet to think, hereafter, 

When the spirit leaves this srhere, 

Love, with death lees wing, abal waft her 

To t.hoae abe long bath mourn'd for here 1 

Hearts, from which 'twa.a death to aev~ 

Eyes, this wotld can :ne'er reeto,re, 

There, aa warm, aa bright 11.8 ever, 

Shall ~ee t ua and be lost no more. 

Oh I if no other boon were gi Yen, 

To keep our hea.rte from ·wrong and stain, 

Who would not try to win a Heaven 

Where all we love aballli'fe again f 

M.ooa&.

'~~·· 

TBotr wert a viaion of delight 

To bletJ& ua given; 

Beauty embodied to our eight, 

A type of Heaven; 

So dear to ua thou wery 1 \hou art 

Even less thine own aeu than a JIAI'tl 

or mine and or thy mothel"a ~ 

Casa Wappyr 

Gem of our hearth, our household pride, 

Earth's unrleiiled ; 

Could love ha.ve saved, thou had.t not died, 

Our dear, sweet .child I 

Humbly we bow to God's decree ; 

Yet had we hoped that time ehould.aee 

Thee mourn for us, not us for th¥&, 

Ca.sa Wappy! 

Do what I may~ go w.here I will, 

Thou tneetat my eight ; 

There doet thou glide before me .ml- 

A form of light I 

X feel thy breath upon my ebeeltl 

see thee smile, I hear thee speak 

Till, oh I my heart is like to break, 

.~ "f•P.P.YI 

The nursery shon thy pictuNd wall, 

Thy ba~ thy bow, 

Thy oloak -.nd \IOnnat, club an!l ,ball; 

But wliere art thou t 

A comer bolda thine empty obair, 

Thy playthings idly aoatt.er'd there, 

But apeak to us of our despair, 

Oaea Wappyl 

And though, perchance, a .smile may gleam 

Of caaual mirth, 

It doth not own, whAte'er may eeem, 

An inward birth: 

• Tbe HlCoOQI>Ihred pet oamo or 1.11 IAllui.IIOll ot t.be. poet, &U.en &om ot.rth 

Aftu a wry lldiiC WA-.

236 POEJIB 01' TDE SOCIAL A.ND DOJIJIBTIO U'-ECJ'IOH!I, 

We miss thy ernalletep on the et.air ; 

We miu thee at thine ennillg prayer; 

All d11y we miM thee, everywhere, 

Caaa Wappy! 

Then be to us, 0 dear, lost chiltll 

With beam of love, 

A atnr, death'a uncongenial wild 

Smiling above; 

Soon, soon thy little feet have trod 

The skyward path, the seraph's rol\d, 

Th11t led thee back from man to God, 

Caaa Wappyl 

Farewell, then-for a. while, farewell 

Pride o( my heart I 

It cannot be that long we dwell, 

Thua torn apart: 

Time'e ehadowe like the shuttle fiee ; 

Aud dark howe'er life'a night may be, 

Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee, 

Caaa W11ppyl 

Mont, 

~bni Janu, hDID afttn t&tt}l ~~~ll· 

Ta.&.'l' name I how oft.en every day 

We epake it and we beard; 

It was to a a, 'mid tuka or play, 

A common household word. 

'Tis breathM yet, that nt.m-bnt oh I 

How aole.mn now the eonnd ! 

One of the 88Jictitiee which throw 

Such awe our homes around. TRltJCCJl. 

J"troi•m• Df Jomt. 

There are bomeateads which b&"Ye witnea'd deeds 

That battle-fields, with all their banner'd pomp, 

Have little to compare with. Life'e great play 

May, eo it have an 11otor gre11t enougli, 

De well perform'd upon a humble at.age. 

MAlisrolf.

PART V. 

POEMS 

or 

FREEDOM AND PATRIOTISM. 

W• &DIIIt be &ee or Ward Ill& ••norol aood. 

S.L hoooo.r In one ore, u4 d""lh I' lho othtr, 

4!141 'll'lllloot Oil bolh llldUI'ortoUr; 

J'or, le& Lhe f04.t eo -4 me. u I lon 

Tbe ll&l1le of boDoat more tballlltar Cle&1!&. 

P&tl1olo ban loU'

POEMS 

FREEDOM AND PATRIOTISM. 

Ym clouds I thAL far above me ftoat and pause, 

Whose pathleas march no mortal may ooutrol ! 

Ye Ocean-Waves I that, wberesoEI'er ye r o1l, 

Yieln homage only to eternal lawai 

Ye Woods l that listen to the night-blrd'a singing, 

.Midway the smooth and peri!oua elope reclined, 

Save when yonr own impenoua branohes, swinging, 

Have mllde a solemn mnBic of the wind I 

Where, like a man beloved of Gtld, 

Through glooms, which cever woodman trod, 

How ottJ pursuing fancies holy, 

My moonltght way o'er fiowering weeda ·I wound, 

Inspired beyond the gueM of folly, 

By each rude shape and wild nnconqnerable sound! 

0 ye loud Waves! and 0 ye Forests high I 

And 0 ye Clouds that far above me eou'd ! 

Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky I 

Yea, every thing that is 1 and will be free! 

Bear wltneas for me, whereaoe'er yo be, 

With·'Wbat deep worship I have etill &.dorect 

The spirit of divinest Liberty. 

Oox.Jt~&.

Jibtdtt. 

'TIS liberty alone that gives the flower 

Offieeting life ita lustre and perfume; 

And we are weeds without it. All constraint, 

.Except what wisdom lays on evil men, 

Is evil ; hurts the faculties, impedes 

Their progress in the road of science, blinds 

The eyesight of discovery, and begets 

In those that sutrer it a sordid mind, 

Bestial, a meagre intellect, unfit 

To be the tenant of men's noble form. 

Cowun. 

lbt ~arb'a $a~ t1f tfm~m . 

Lo1JD into pomp sonorous ewell the chord• ! 

Like linkM legions march the melodies ! 

Till the full raptute swept the Bard along, 

And o'er the liatenenJ ruah'd the stream of song I 

.And the De&d spoke I From cairns and kingly graves, 

The Heroes call'd ;-and saints from eulieat aht'inee . 

.And the Land spoke! Mellifluous river-waves; 

Dim forests awful with the roar of pi_ne11 ; 

Mysterious caves from legend-haunted deepa ; 

.And torrents flashing from untroddeu st~:eps ;- 

The Land of Freedom called upon the Free! 

AU Nature spoke; the clarions of the willd; 

The organ-swell of the majestic &ea; 

The choral stars; the Univeraal Mind 

Spoke, like the voice from which the world began, 

" No chain for Natu1·e and the Soul of MAn!" 

As leaps tho war-fire on the beacon hills, 

Leapt in each heart the lofty fla.me divine; 

.As into sunlight tla.eh tbe molten rills, 

Flash'd the glad claymorea 1 lightening liuo on line 1 

From cloud to cloud, as slumoer speeds along, 

From rank to rank rush'd forth the choral eong. 

Woman and child-all co.ught the .fire of men ; 

To ita own Heaven that Hallelujah rang; 

Life to the sp.,ctrea had return'd again, 

.And fron1 the grave an armed nation &JJraDg. 

E. .8. Lt't'TON,

POEKS 0~ FRDDOX Al'D PATlUOTUQI, 241 

«~. 

ErBRli.U. spirit of the cbaiole88 Mind ! 

Brightest in dungeons, Liberty I thou Art, 

For there thy habitation ill the heart- 

The heartt which love of thee alone can bind; 

And when t.by sons to fetters Are conaign'd- 

To fettel'll, and the damp vault 'a day leas gloom, 

Their country conquel'll with their martyrdom, 

And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. 

Chilloo ! thydrison ia a holy place, 

And thy ta ftoor an Altar-for 'twas trofl, 

.Until hia very steps hAve left a trace 

Worn, as if thy cold pa.vement were a eod, 

By Bonninrd !-May none thoae marka eft4ce I 

For they appeAl from tyranny to God. 

BTJ\Olf, 

t~c ~nti.quitR .of cfm~om. 

HltRB nre oltl trees, tall oa.lrs nnd gnArled pines, 

That stream with gray-green moeeea; here tbe ground 

Waa never trench'd by sp11de, and ftowere epriug up 

Unsown, 1\od die nngather'd. It is sweet 

To linger here, among the flitting birds 

And leaping sqniiTels, wandering brook!>, and winds 

T11at shake the lenves, 1\nd scatter, u they Jl&BS, 

A fragn,nee from the cedal'll, thickly set 

With pnle blue berries. In these pencefnl ehades 

Pt>a.eeful, unpruned, immeMurably old- 

My tbonghts go up the long dim path ofyeal'l', 

Back to the earliest days of liberty. 

Oh Fauoox! thon art not, ae poets dreAm, 

A lair young girl, with light and delicate limbe, 

And wavy tr·eues gushing from the cap 

With whi

2J2 

l'O&u.S 07 I'R&IWOK AliD l'..u'RlOTLSJl, 

They could not quench the life thou hast. from heaven.. 

MereU~ power baa dug thy dungeon deep, 

And llis a wart armouren. by a thouaand fires 

Have forged thy chain; yet, while he deems .thee bount.l, 

The .lin.k8 llre sbiver'd, and the prison walls 

Fall outward ; terribly thou aprin.geat forth, 

As spriugs the flame above a burning pile, 

And shoute~t to the nations, who return 

Thy shootings, while the tl&le OJ>preB&Or fties . 

Thy birthright was not given by humau bands; 

Thou wurt twin-llorn with man. In pleasant tiel Is, 

While yet our race wa.s few, thon 81lt'st with him, 

To tend the quiet fiock and watch .the stars, 

And teach tbe reed to utter simple ainl. 

Thou by his side amid the tangled wood, 

Didat war upon the panther and the wolf, 

His only foes; and thou with him wdat draw 

The ea.l'liest furrows on the moun min side, 

Soft with the deluge. Tyranny hil:naelf, 

Thy enemy, although of reverend look, 

Hoary with many years, and far ohey'd, 

Is later born 'h:w thou ; and a.s he meeta 

The grnve defi.auce of thine elder eye, 

The usurper trembles .in bia fastnesau. 

Thou shAlt wax atronger with the lapse o( yea.re, 

But he shall fade into o. feebler age; 

Feebler, yet subtler. He shall weave his sn:uoes, 

And spring tlun.u on thy care leas steps, and clt• p 

His w1ther'd hamls, anJ from their a.mlm.ah call 

His hordes to fall upou thee. He shall send 

Quaint maskers, wea.riug fair and gallant forma, 

To catch thy gaze, and uttering graceful worda 

To charm thy ear; while his sly imps by stealth 

Twine round thee threa.~ of steel, light thread on tlt.r.:a.J. 

That grow to fetters; or bind down thy arms 

With chains couceal'd in cba.plet.s. Oh! notyljt 

Mayst thou unbrace thy cor~let, nor lay by 

Thy sword; nor yet, 0 Freedom I close thy lids 

In slumber; for thine enemy never sleepa, 

And thou must watch and combat till the day 

Of the new earth 11-nd heavt!ll. ·But 1'fOU1Ust thou rest 

A while from tumult aud the fru.ude of men, 

Theae old OJ.Id friendly solitwle11 i.u\'ite

PO~ OJ' :rB.UDOK ABD P.ATJUOT1BJL 243 

Thy viait. They, while yet the foreat-trel!a 

W~ young upon the UD9iolated ea.ttb~ 

And yet the mOIMHit.aillJI on the rock were no.w, 

Beheld thy gloriou. c¥!dbood, and rejoi~d.. 

BRYA!IT. 

cfrom * ,, eb, .em* §.catv af * !Jak.t af l!.cll~ ... 

Wao ia he that cometh, like an honour~d 1n1est, 

With banner and with muaic, with sOldier ana with priest, 

With a nation weet>ing, and breaking on my rest 1 

Mighty aea.man, tb11 ia be · : 

Wae great by land aa thou by aeL 

ThiJie island love& thee well, thou famous ma.n, 

Tho greatest sailor since our world began. 

Now, to the roll ofmufDed tlrums, 

To thee the greateet aoldier comes ; 

For thia ia he 

Wae great by land ruJ thou by sea; 

Hia martial wisdom kept us free; 

0 warrior-searu3.D, tbia ia he, 

This is England's greatest son, 

Worthy of our gorgeous rites, 

And worthr to be laid by thee ; 

He that ga•n'd a huudtoed fights, 

And never lost an Engliah gun ; 

He that in hie earlier d11.y · 

Against the myriads of Assaye 

Olash\1 with his fiery f'ew and won: 

And underneath another sun 

Made the aoldier, led him on, 

And ever great and greater grew, 

Bentinl{ from the wuted vines 

All thetr mllnlhals' bandit SWAnUII 

Back to France with countless blows ; 

Till t.beu· h0o1t of eaglee llew 

Past the Pyrenean pines, 

Follow'd up in valley and glen 

With blare of bugle, claw our of men, 

RoU of can.oon aud claeh of arms, 

And England pouring on hot• foes. 

Such a war had such a clues.

244 PODs o~ :ruamov .llCD P.I.T8l0'1'18V. 

He wHhdrew to brief repose. 

A&ain their ravening eagle roee 

In anger 1 

:wheel'd on Europe-shadowing wingw, 

And barking for the thrones of kings, 

Till one that sought but Duty's iron crown 

On that loud Sabbath ahook the spoiler c.lo'WD : 

A dar. of onaeta of despair I 

Daeh d on every rocky square 

Their surging charges foam'd them.selvt~e away: 

Laat 1 

the Pruseian trumpet blew ; 

Through the long-tormented air 

Heaven ftaah'd a sudden jubili\Ut ray 

And down we swept and charged and overthrew. 

So great a soldier taught ua there, 

What long-ellduring hearts coulJ. do 

In that world'~arthquake 

1 Waterloo I 

Mighty seaman, tender aud true, 

And pure aa he from taint of craven guile, 

0 saviour of the ailver-coa.ated isle, 

0 abaker of the Baltic and the Nile, 

tr aught of things that here befall 

Touch a spirit among tbioga divine. 

If love of countrY move thee there at all, 

Be 'glad beCAuse his bones &re laid by thine ! 

And through the centuries let " people's voice 

In full acclaim, 

A people's voice, 

The proof and echo of all human rnme, 

A peo{lle'a voice, when they rejoice 

At cine r8'1'el and pomp and game, 

Atteet their great commander'• claim, 

With honour, honour, honour, honour to him. 

Eternal honour to his name. 

T&Mli'TBOlf. 

ta Jli.ltan. 

Mn:roN! thou ahouldst be living at thia hotLr : 

England bath need of thee ; she ia n fen 

Of atAgnant waten: altar, aworll, and pen, 

Fireside, the heroic wealtb of hal I and bower, 

Have forf'eited their ancient Eo~tliab dower 

Of inward bAppine88.. We ue aelfish men, 

ObI raiae ua up, return to us again ;

POBMB 01" l!'llBEDOll AlfD PATRIOT18Jot. 245 

And gire ua manners, virtue 1 freedom, power. 

Thy soul waa like a ata.r, ana. dwelt apart : 

Thou hut a voice whose aound Willi like t.be l!eA : 

Pure as the naked heaveD.II, majestic, free, 

So didst thou travel on life's common way, 

In rheerflll godliness; and yet thy heart 

The lowliest dutie& on herself didat 1~. 

W ORDSWOll.'l'B. 

I TRAVKLL'D among unknown men, 

In landa beyond the aea; 

Nor, England I did I know till then 

WhAt love I bore to thee. 

'Tis put that melancholy dream I 

Nor will I quit thy shore 

A second time ; for still I seem 

To love thee more and more. 

Among thy mountains did I feel 

Tho jo.}' of my desire ; 

And she I cheriah'd turo'd her wheel 

Beside an English fire. 

Thy mornings show'd, thy nighte coneeal'd 

The bowers where Lucy play'd ; 

An

246 PO"E118 OJ' FRBEDOlf AND PJ.TJUuTI8JI. 

Or u a mo~t defpn.qive to a house, . 

.Against the envy of lesa happier lands; . 

This blessed plot, thia earth. this realm, this England, 

This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, 

Fear'd by their breed, and famoua by theil' birtn, 

BenownM for their deeds as far from home 

(For Christian service, and true chivalry) 

Aa ia tbe sepulchre in atubborn Jewry, 

Of the world'al'&.llaom, bleaeed .Mary'a eon: 

This land of eueb dear aouls, this dear, dear land, 

Dear for her reputation through the wodd. 

SB..\USPEAR&. 

5num. 

You ask me why, though ill at eue, 

Within th.is region I subsist, 

Whose spirtta fail within the Jn)st, 

And languiSh for the purple seas 7 

It is the land that freemen ti.H, 

That sober-suited Freedom eb.oee ; 

The land where, girt with f.rien~ or foes, 

A Jnan may speak the th'ing he wilt ; 

A lAnd of settled government, . 

A land of just and old renown, . . 

Where Fnedom broadens slowly dow~ 

From preeedeDt to preee.lent ; 

Where faction seldom gather& flead, 

But by degrees to fulnesa wrought; 

The strength of some diffusive thought 

Hath time and space to work and spread. 

Should banded unions persecute 

Opinio~ and induce a time 

Where single thought is civil criine, 

.ADd individual freedom mute; 

Though Power ahould make from land to land 

The nl\Dl.e of Britain t.rebly great- 

Though every channel of the state 

Should almost choke with golden aMJd ; 

Yet wnft me f~m the harbour-mouth, 

Wild wind I I seek a warmer s\y 1 

ADd I will see before I die 

The palma llolld temples of the South. 

TPli'TI!ON,

PODI!I OP PRltlmOII .AND PATlUOTlS)(, 14:7 

El{OL~lfD, with all thy faults, l Jove thee &till 

My country! anrl while yet A nook i• left 

Where English minds and manners may be found, 

Shall be constrain'd to love thee. Tboo~h thy climtt 

Be fickle 1 and thy year most part deform rl 

With dripping min~ or wither'd by a Croat, 

I would not yet excliauge thy sullen skies, 

.And fields without e. Bower, for warmer }'ranee 

With &11 her vi.nea; nor for A.naonia'e grovea 

Of golden frnitage, and her myrtle bo"l'fen. 

To shake thy senate, and from l\eighte eoblime 

or patriot eloqueDce to Be..& dowu fire 

Upon thy foee, "Wall never meant my t.uk: 

But 1 can feel thy fortunes, and parta.ke 

Thy joys and eorrows, with e.s true & heArt 

Aa any tbunderer there. And I can feel 

Thy folliea too; and witb a just disdain 

Frown at effemin&tee, whoee nry lookt 

Reftect diahonou.r on the la.nd I love. 

0 DEAR Britain! 0 my Mother Isle ! 

Needs muattbou prove a 11ame moat dear 11.11d holy 

To me, & eon, a brother, and a friend, 

A. husband, and a father I who revere 

.All bonds of natural love, and find them aU 

Within the lim ita of thy roclcy ahorea. 

0 native Britain I 0 roy Mother Iale I 

How ebould'11t thou prove aught el~~e bu~ dew aud holy 

To me, who f1·om thy lakes a.nd monatsin-hilla, 

Thy clouds 1 

thy quiet dales, thy rock& and ae~te, 

Jiave drunk in all my intellectual life, 

All sweet aeusatious 1 all ennobling thoughts, 

All adoration of the God in nature, 

All lovely and all hononroble tbinga, 

Whatever makes this mortal epirit (Ae) 

The j oy and lll"BIItn~as of ita futnre be.Ua£. t

248 POlDlB OP FBX&DO.IIl Al(l) P.l'l'B.lOTU>.IIl. 

There lives nor form uor feeling in my eoul 

UnbotTOw'd from my country. 0 divine 

And Leauteoua island ! thou lul.at been my sole 

.And moet magnificent temple, in the which 

I walk with awe, and aing my stately songs, 

Loving the God that made me I 

COLElUDOE. 

JTtn ll! 'ng(a.nb'. 

MltN of England I who inherit 

Righta that cos~ your aires their blood ! 

Men whoaa undegenerate epirit 

Hae been proved on land and ftood :- 

By the foes ye've fought uncounted, 

By the glorious deeJa ye've done, 

Trophies captored-breAchee mouuted 

Nnviea couqoer'd-kingdowe woo I 

Yet remember, England gathent 

Hence but fruitler.a wreathe of f.awe, 

It the freedom of your fa then 

Glow not in your hearta the aame. 

'Vhat aremonomentaofbravery, 

Where no public virtoea bloom f 

What avail in laude ofalanry, 

Trophied temples, arch, and tomb f 

Pageanta !-Let the world revere ua 

For our people's rights and Jaws, 

And the breasts of civic heroe8 

Bared in Freedom'a holy cauae. 

Yours are Hampden's, Roaaell'a glory, 

Sydlley'a matchleBB shade il yow. 

Martyn in heroic story, 

W ortb a hundred Agincourta 1 

We're the sons ofsirea that bafBed 

• Crown'd a.nd mitred tyranny: 

They defi.ed the field a.nd He&ff'old 

.For their birthrighta-so will we 1

l'OZKB OP JUIWOK AJ(l) l'4TJIJOTI.Bll, 

· A SONG J'OR VOLUl!TURB. 

Wno eaya we are craven and cold, 

Unworthy the land of our aires: 

That our souls worship nothing but gold, 

Tbat quench'd are our patriot .fire .. t 

They lie I-F or our dear native land, 

Renown'd from the ages alar, 

Prejxned against all foea we stand, 

Oll.r Rifiea are ready! Hurrah! 

Then up with the Rifie I Hurrah ! 

Our isle is the home of the free, 

It owua neither tyrant nor alave; 

To defend it on l&nd or on sea, 

W o have bes.rts ever ready and brave. 

And if ever a despot should dare 

To threaten invasion or war, 

We'd soon give him cauae to beware 

Of ua and ow Rifles.. Hurrah I 

Our Ri1l.ea are ready! Hurrah I 

Sno.&TBR 

rnu anb c:falst :J.ouaUJl. 

Wx love 

The king who loves the law, respects hla bound>5, 

ADd reigns content within them: him we sen-e 

Freely, and with delight, who leaves ua free; 

But recollecting still that he is man, 

We trust him not too far. King though he be, 

And king in England too, he may be weak, 

And vain enough to be ambitious atill; 

.May exercise &UJisa his prope1· power:s, 

Or covet more than freemen choose to grant : 

Beyond that mark ill treason. He ill our:s 

To administer, to guard, to adoru the state, 

But not to warp or change it. We are his 

To serve him nobly in the common cause, 

True to the death, but not to be his alavea.

Mark now the difference, ye that boast your love 

Of kin~ between your loyalty and oun. 

We, love the man, the paltry pageant, you: 

We, the chief patron of the commonwel\lth; 

You, the regard leas author Of ita woee : 

We, for the sake of liberty, a king; 

You, cb&ina and bondage for a tyrant's eake : 

Oor love is principle, and lla.t! ita root 

In nason-1a judtcions, mllnly, free; 

Yonn, a blind instinct, crouches to the rod, 

And licb the foot that treads it in the dus&. 

Were kingship as. true treasure 8.9 it seems, 

Sterling, and worthy of a wise man's wish> 

I would not be a king to be beloved· 

Oa.useleBB, and daub'd wito undiscerning prai&e, 

Where love is mere attachment to the throne, 

Not to the man who nUs it M he ooght. 

CowPER. 

!Jtlt1'!l t . ta his .iofhiers btfatt Jlrrl!tllt. 

ONOB more unto the breach, dear friE"nds, once more ; 

Or close the w11ll up with our English dead I 

ln peaoe, there's nothing eo beOO'mea a man 

~ modest etilbless and humility; 

Jlut when the. blast of wnr blows in our eant., 

Then iruitate the action of the tiger; 

Stift'en the sineWl!, mmmon np tlie blood, 

Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage: 

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; 

Let it pry through the portAge o( the llelld 

Like the bra.se cannon ; le~ the brow o'ezwhelm it, 

As fearl"uUy as doth a gal!M rock 

O'erhang a.nd jntty hie confounded bftae, 

Swill'd with the wild and wasteful oceab. 

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril 11'ide1 

Hold bard the breath, and bend up every spirit 

To his full height 1-0n, on, you noble Englieb 1 

Whose blood ie fetch'a from fathel'll of .-ar-pro&f! 

Fathen, tha.t, like ao man1 Alexllllders, 

Have, in these parte, from motn till even fought 1 

And ebea.thed their swords fot lack of arga.men\ ; 

Dishonour not your mothet8; now attellt, 

That those whom you eall'd fatben did beget you !

Be copy now to men of groaaer hlood, 

And teach them bow to war !-AJlu you, good yeomen 1 

Whose limbe were made in England, abow us here 

The mettle of your pasture ; let us awear 

That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; 

For there is none of you so mean and bnse 

That h11th not noble lustre in your eyes. 

Ieee you stand like greyhounds in the slips, 

Stniniug upon the start. The game's a-foot ; 

Follow vour spirit; and 1 

upon this chArge, 

Cry-God for Harry, EnglaoCII and Saint George! 

Su .. ur::zsHARE. 

~~e §nltle of tke ~aUu . 

fu Nelson and tl1e North, 

Sing thP. glorious day's renown, 

When to battle fierce came forth 

All the might of Denmark'a crown, 

And her arm• along the deepjroudly ahone : 

By each gun the lighted bran , 

In a bold determined biUld, 

And the Prince of l1J1 the land 

Led them on. 

Like levia.tbans adoa.t 

Lay their bulwarks on the brine; 

While the sign of battle llew 

On the lofty British line: 

It was teo of April morn by the chime: 

As they drifted on their path, 

There was silence deep aa death: 

.And the boldest held hie breath, 

For a time.- 

But the might of England tluah'd 

To anticipate the sceue ; 

And her van the lleeter nuih'd 

O'er the de&dly epMe between. 

"Hearts of oak I" onr captain.s cried; when eneh gun 

From ita adamantine lips 

Spread a death·sh&de round the ehipa, 

Like the hurricane eclipse 

Of the lUll. 

/

21\2 POltlilS Ol' J'P..E.EDOll AlfD PATIUO'riSll, 

Agaiu ! ago.io ! again I 

And the havoc did not alack, 

Till a feeble cheer, the Dane, 

To our cheering, sent ua back :- 

Their ahota aloDg the det:p slowly boom: 

Tbeu ceased-and nll ia wail, 

Aa they strike the ahatter'd aaU; 

Or, iu coutlagration p&le, 

LigM the gloom. 

Out 1poke the victor then, 

Aa he hail'd them o'er the wave; 

'' Ye are brothers ! ye are men I 

A.nd we conquer but to save:- 

So pence iDBtead af death let ua bring; 

But yield, proud foe, thy tleet, 

With the crewa, at Ellglantl'a feet, 

And make snbmi&SiOJl meet 

To out· king."- 

Then Denmark bleas'J our chief, 

That he gave her wounds repose; 

.And the aounda of Joy &Dd grief 

From her people wildly roae 

At. Death withdrew his shades from the day. 

While the sun look'd ahiuing bright, 

O'er a wide and wo!ul11ight, 

Wbere the firea of fllllerallight 

Died away. 

Now joy, Old England, raise ! 

For the tidings of thy might, 

By the festal cities' blaze, 

While lbe wine.cup ahinea in lirht: 

And yet amidst that j

l'OEMS OP n.EEDOK AND PATRIOTlSU. 

21'1:4 

Jt~ f.'s ijJtulr lrtfou tbe ~attlt of ~o.rl. 

Wut.-0 that we now bad here 

But one ten thousand of those men in England 

That do no work t

2~ POBK.B 011 JIJI.E&DOK .Uti l'.t.TJ110'IISU. 

And Criospin Criapian aball ne'er go by, 

From thi.t time to the ending of the world, 

But we in it ahall be remember'd ;- 

We few, we happy few, we bnnd of brothers 

For be, tc>day, t.h..t sheds hia blood with me, 

Shall be my brother; be be ne'er ao vile, 

Thia day shAll gentle bi.a condition: 

.And gentlemeu in Eugland, now a-bed, 

Shall think themeelvea accW'Sed they were not here ; 

And boW their manhood& cheap, while any ape11ka 

That fought with ua upon &int Cri.apin'a day. 

Sa .. ur.BSPEAJU::, 

A LAY' OJ' TB» l'URU'Aif8, 

Oa ! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the north, 

With your hand&, and your feet, and your raiment aU red? 

And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyoW! shout ? 

And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread? 

Ob evil was the roob, and bitter was the fruit, 

And crimson WAll the juice of ihe vintage that we trod; 

For we trampled on the throng of the haugbty and the strong, 

• Who sate m the high places, and slew the saints of God ! 

Like a servant of the Lord, with hie Bible and his SI\'Ord, 

The General rode along UJ! to form us for the fight, · 

When a murmuring sound broke out, and swell'tl iuto a shout, 

Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant'S' right. 

And hark! like the ro11r of the billows on the shore, 

The cry of battle rises along their chuging line ! 

For God I for the Cause! for the Church I for the Laws I 

For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine! 

The furioUJ! Germrul comes with his clarions and hia drums, 

Ria bmvoea of Alsada and pages of Whitehall, 

They arc bursting on our ft11nlu!. Grasp your pikes-close your 

ranlu!:- 

ll'or Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. 

They are here:-they ru.sh on • . We 11re broken-weare goner 

Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. 

0 Lord, put forth thy mi~l1t I 0 Lord, defend the right! 

Stand back ·1o back in God's nmme, and light it to 'the last.

PO.I!.Q OF PR&IWOK .AliD I'.UJUOTl&M. .!11)6 

::\tout Skippon hath a wound :-the centre hath ginn ground: 

Buk! hark 1-What means the trampling of horeemeD on 

our rear? 

Whoee banner do! see, boys? 'Tis he, thank God I 'tie he, boys, 

Bea.r up another miDute. Brave Oliver ill here. 

Their heads all ltoopiog low, their points all m a :row, 

Like a whirlwind on Ule trees, ·like a deluge on the dykea, 

Our clliruaiers have bll1'8t on tbe ranks of tlie .Accurat, 

.And a~ a aboek have acatter'd tbe foreat of ~s pikes. 

M.t.C.t.UL.LY. 

Jt lfariluni of Oinglllnb. 

Y.s mariners of Eugla.n.d, 

That guard our native aeo.a ; 

Whoae fiag bas b1·aved, a thousand yeura, 

Tbe battle and the breezt~! 

Your glorious slaudanl launch again 

l'o match another foe, 

.And sweep thr ough the deep 

While the stormy winds do blow ; 

While the b,.ttle rages loud a.nd long, 

.And the stormy winds do blow. 

Tht~ spirits of your f.athen 

Shall stn.rt from every wave!- 

For the deck it waa their field of fiune, 

.And 0c€'an waa their grave: 

Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, 

Your uu.uly hearts shall glow, 

As ye 11weep through the deep 

While the stormy winds do blow; 

While the battle rages loud and long, 

.And the stormy winds do blow. 

Britannia ueeds no bulwark, 

No towers along the steep; 

Her ruucb is o'er the mouutain-waves, 

Her home is on the deep. 

With thunders from h~r nAtive oak, 

She quellil the iloods below,- 

As they roar on the shore 

When the atormy winds do blow : 

When the b~ttle rages loud and long, 

.And the stormy wlncls do blow.

256 PO!Dlll OF FRUDOV AND PATRtOTISlr. 

The me.teor-fiag of England 

Shall yet terrific burn ; 

Till danger's troubled night depart , 

And the star of peace retnrn. 

Then, then, ye ooean-warriors, 

Our song and feast shall fiow 

To the fame of yottr na.me, 

When the storm ba.th ceaaed to blow ; 

When the fiery fight is heard no more, 

And the storm has ceased to blo-w. 

CAKPB&LL. 

Jcmu S:bongqta, from tbt .ita. 

NoBLT, nobly Oape Saint Vi11cent to the north-west dieci 

away; 

Sunset ra.n, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz bay ; 

Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay : 

In the dimmest north-east distance, da.wn'd Gibra.ltar grand 

and gray; 

" Here and here did England help me,-how can I help 

England 1 "- say, 

Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to Goll to praise and 

pray, 

While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa. 

BaowmNo. 

J olitirnl Glmdtuss. 

NoR happiness, nor majesty, nor fame, 

Nor peace, nor strengt h, nor skill in al'DlB or 1uts, 

Shepherd those herds whom tyrannr makes tame; 

Ver.e echoes not one beating oftbe1r he&rta: 

History is but the shadow of their shame; 

Art veils her gloas, or fl·om the ps~eant starts, 

As to oblivion their blind millions tleet I 

S taining th&t heaven with obeceue imagery 

Of their own likeueBB. Whn.t are numbP.rs, knit 

By force or custom t Man who mAn would be, 

Muat rule the empire ofbimaelf; in it 

Must be supreme, eatablishing bie throne 

On vanqniah'd will, quellin~ the an11rcby 

Of hopes and feara, being h1mself alonE'. 

SB&LLET.

1'008 0~ ~JLI:EDOX AND PA'BIOT18ll. 257 

The la11d wu free I 

TELL TO BIB wtJ'a. 

WIWII I wedded th~e, 

0 ! with what pride I u.eJ 

ro walk thoee billa, 1\Dd look up to II1Y God, 

And bleaa hi111 that it wu eo ! It waa Cree 1- 

Fr-oii1 end to end, from cliff to lake 'twu free ! 

Free ae our torreute are, that lellp uur roc.U, 

And plough our valleys, without aak:iog leave; 

Or u our peaka that wear their capa of enow, 

In very presence of the regal eun I 

How happy wu I in it then I I loved 

lte very atorii18 I Yee, Emma, I have eat 

In my boat at night, when, midway o'er the lake, 

'l'he etara went out, and down the moUDtain gorge 

The wind came roaring-I have eat and eyed 

The thunder bre&lcillg from his cloud, and IIDI.iled 

To aee him shake his ligbtninga o'er my head, 

And think I had uo muter eue hie own ! 

You know t.heJ'utting cliff, round which a track 

Up hither win e, whose baee is but the brow 

To euch another one, wit.h acanty room 

For two a-breast to paaa 1 O'erta.ken there 

By the mountain bla.at, I've lAid me flat along; 

And while gust follow'd gust more furiously, 

.A. if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink, 

.And I have thought of other landa, wboae atorm.a 

Are summer tlawa to thoee of mine, a.ud jnat 

Have wiah'd me there-the thought that mine waa free 

Hu ebeek'd that wish, and I have raised my head, 

And cried in thraldom to that furious wind, 

Blow on ! This is the land of liberty ! 

K.No~. 

' tU .1m t~t ltD1lntllin•. 

Y11 oraga and peaka 1 I'm with you once again I 

I bold to you the banda you firat beheld, 

To ehow they still are free. Methinka I hear 

A Spirit in your echoes anawer me, 

And bid your Mnant welcome home, again 1 

8

268 POlWS o:r :Jli.DDOM AlO.> P.A.'PIUO'fiBK. 

Hail !-:-Rail! 0 sacred fol1IlJI, how proud you loolt I 

How high you lilt your heads into the &Icy I 

How huge you a.re I how mighty, and how Cree I 

How do you look, for all your bared brows, 

More gorgeot18ly ml\jeatieal than kings 

Whoae loaded coronets exhauJit the mine I 

Ye are the things thAt tower- thatshine--whoae smile 

lhkea glad-whose fro'll'll is terribl&-whoee forme, 

Robed o-r unrobed, do all the impreM wear 

Of awe divin~wboae aubjeot never lmeela 

In mockery, because it is your boaat 

To keep him free! ye lfO&rda of liberty, 

I'm with yov. onoe agam 1-1 call to you 

With all my voice I I hold mi hands to you 

To show they still are free 1 rnah to ,0¥ 

Aa though I could embra.oe rou ! 

Scaling yonder peak, 

I Mw an eagle wheeling near ita brow.: 

O'er the abyaa his broad expanded winga 

Lay CAlm and moti

PODI.S OP J'R'&EDOX .&~D PATIUOTJIX. 

25Q 

' 

Opposed to theae, a hoveriug baud 

Coutended Cor their fatberlaJ:ul ; 

Peau.uts, wboae new-found etrengt.h htod broke 

From mtu~ly necka the ignoble yoke; 

Manhall'd once more to freedom'• cell, 

They came to oonquer or to fall 

And now the wor'k of life 1\Dd death 

Hung on the puaing of a breath ; 

The fire of contlict burn'd withi.Jl ; 

The battle t.rembled to begin ; 

Yet, while the Auetriana held tlleir g•ound, 

Point for &~~SAult wu nowhere found; 

Where'er the impatient Swit.zera rued, 

The unbroken line of lanOM btazea ; 

That line 't were euieide to meet, 

And perish at their tyrant.' feet. 

Yet Striturl&nd i.a in the field, 

She will not tly, ehe ea.nnot yield. 

Few were the numben abe oould bout ; 

But every freeman wu a boat, 

And felt as 't were a eecre.t knoWD 

That one ebould turn the IC&Ie alone ; 

While each unto himeelf waa he 

On whoee tolo arm htu~g victory. 

It did depend on one, indeed ; 

Behold h1m-ARNOLD WINDLB.l&D: 

There tounda not to tho trump of Fame 

The echo of a nobler name. 

Unmuk'd, he etooJ amid the Uu-oog, 

In romiMtion deep and long, 

Till you might aeo, with sudden g:raee. 

The very thought como o'er hi.a !ace; 

A nd 1 

by the motion of hia form, 

Anttcipate the bureting storm; 

And, by the uplifting of hia brow, 

Tell where the bolt would atrike, and bow. 

But 't 1r11a no sooner thonght than done, 

The field was in a moment won ! 

11 

Make way (or libeTty I " he oried, 

• Then ran with arme extended wide, 

A a if hia del\rett friend to clasp; 

Ten epeare be ewept within hia grup. 

/

260 FOEM8 01' FUEl>Oll .&.XI> P.ATR10Tlllll, 

"Make way lfor Uberty I" he cried ; 

Their keen pointa pasa'd !rom aide to aide ; 

Be bow'd amongst them like a tree, 

And thua ma1ie vray for liberty. 

Swifl. to the hreach hia comrades fty, 

u Make way for liberty I " tbey cry, 

And through the Austrian pha.lrwx dart, 

Aa ruah'd the' apeare through Arnold's heart; 

While, inatantaneoua 8B hia fall, 

Rout, ruin, pnuie, seized them all : 

An earthquake could not overthrow 

A city with a. surer blow. 

Thua Switzer.land again was free; 

Thua Death 11a.a.de way for liberty I 

MOlf'l'OOl(EJl'T. 

lt. b7 Um wooc!.lln'o blue, 

Wilen 'WIDtu'o ol&tl JIMm colcl, 

The i10l101U1 ~ .. ofo)(ler cla.Jo 

li.AJ' PI'OOdly J'l!l be tole! ; 

Porpt ru>t then the lbepbercl-nee, 

Wllo mode the eertb alloiJ' plooel &triu ~. 

WDlfOE art tho•u, flower 1 From holy ground 

Where freedom's foot bath been I 

Yet bugle-blast or tru.mpetreound 

Ne'er shook t:bat solemn acl!ne. 

Flower or a noble field ! thy birth 

Wa.a not whe1~e apeare have croaa'd 1 

And ahiver'd helms have strewn the earth, 

Midat b&nnen• won and )oat: 

But where the sunny huea and ahowera 

Unto thy cup were given, 

There met high hearta at midnight houra, 

Pure banda were raised to heuen; 

And vowe were pledged, that man ahonld roam, 

Through ever;r Alpine de U, 

Free aa the wine , the torrent'a foam, 

The abaft of William Tell!

POZil8 o:r YRUDOK Uf1J l'ATJUOTJSV. 261 

And prayer, the full deep flow of prayer, 

Blillow'd the pnstoral sod; 

And aoula grew strong for baltle there, 

Nerved with the peaee of God. 

Befol'e the Alps and alara they knelt., 

'11u~t calm devoted band, 

And roae, and made their spirite felt 

Through all the mountain-land. 

Then welcome Grutli'a free-born flower I 

Even in thy pale decay 

There dwells a breath, 1\ tone, a power, 

Which all high thoughta obey. 

Now glory to the LoTd of Hom, from whom all gloriu aTe! 

And glory to our aovereign liege, King Beary of Navarre I 

Now let there be the merry eound of n.usic and of danee, 

Through thy comfietda ~n, and aunny vines, 0 pleasant 

land of France I 

And thou, Roc belle, oor o'\VJl Rochelle, proud city of the wateTII, 

Again let rapture light the eyea.of all thy mourning daughters; 

As thou wert c

~And if my atandard-btlarer ran, lUI fall fun ~ell he may, 

For never 1aw I promise yel of euoh a bloody fray, 

Preas ,,.here ye aeemywbiteplume shine, amidst the rankaofwar, 

And be yoW" oriftftmme w-day tbe helmet of Nava.ne! N 

Hurrah I the foes are moving I Hark to the mingled .ella, 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and ro.:uiug .c:ulverin. 

The fiery Duke is pricking fut across Saint Andnfs plain, 

With all the hireling chivalry of Gucldera and Alma.yne. 

Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, 

Charge for the golden lilies,-upon them with the lance. 

A thousand spurs are strikio,g deep, a tlJoJtsand spears in re~t . 

A thousa.nd kuights a.re pressin~ close behind the snow-whire 

crest; 

And in they burst, and on tbey l'Ullh'd, while, li\:e a guiding star, 

Amidst the thickest carnage bJa~ed the helmet of Navarre. 

Now, God be praised, the day is oars. :Mayenne hath tnrn'd 

his rein; 

0' Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemis.h Cou11t is slain. 

Their ranb are breaking lik.e thin clouda beCore a Biecay gale; 

The field ie heap 1 d. with bleeding ateeda, a11d flags, aud. cloven 

maiL 

And then we thought on vengeii.Dee, and, all along oar 1-an, 

•• Remember St. Bartholomew," was pass'd from man to ~n. 

But out apake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman ia my foe: 

DoWll, down, with every forei~er, but let your brethren go." 

ObI wu there ever allch a klught, in friendship or in war, 

As oar Sovereign Lord, Kiug Henry, the soldier of Navarre? 

Bight well fought all the Frenchmen who fought for France 

to-day; 

And man; a lordly banner God gave them for a prey. 

But we o the religion have borne us best in fight; 

And the good lord of Ro&ny bath ta'en the comet white. 

Our own true Maximilian tlle cornet white hath ta'eo, 

The cornet white with crosses bla.c:.k, the flag ol false LorrNBe· 

Up with it high; nnf~trl it wide; that all the host may know 

Jlow God hath humbled. the proud h.ou.ae which wt'Ought b.ia 

church such woe. 

Then on the groond, while trumpets soaud thair loudeet poin& 

of war, 

Fling the red shreds, a footclotb meet for Henry of Navarre. 

Hoi maiden• ofVienn.a; Hot matrons of Lucerne, 

Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who navu .01111 fei~m. 

Ho l Philip, send, for chari~, thy Mes.i.ca11. pictole.J, 

'l'hat Antwerp monb mayamg a mua for ·thy poor ~rmen'• 

a oW..

HoI gallant noblu orthe Leagoe, look th&t yo or &1"111.1 be bright; 

HoI burghers ofSaiut Genevieve, keep wat.c:b and ward t-night. 

For oar God ~th crUJh'd the tyrant, our God hath railed the 

elan, 

.And mook'd I he counsel ofthe wiae, and the nlo11r of lhe bran. 

Then glory to Ria holy name, from whom all gloriee are; 

.Alld glory lo our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of NaTr.rre. 

t.Uo.;.m.u. 

4!)rut'- 

Hs who hath bent him o'er the det.d 

Ere the first day of death ia fled, 

The first dark da.y of nothiugneu, 

The laat of da.nger and diatreBI, 

(Before decay's eft'a.oing fingera 

lrave awept the lines where beautylingera,) 

And mark'd the mUtl angelic air, 

The rapture of repoae that's theN, 

The fix.'d, yet tender traita that atrea.lt 

The languor of the pl&cid cheelc 1 

And- but for that~ ahl'Oude

Clime of the unfo~otten bran I 

WLoee land from plam to mountain-eave 

Wu Freedom's home or Glory's gn.ve I 

Shrine of the mighty! can it be 

That this is all remain• or thee 1 

Approech, thou ernven crouching &lave: 

Say, ia not this Thermopyhe I 

These waters blue that round you lave, 

0 servile offspring of the fre& 

Pronounee what aea, what shore ia thiat 

The gult, the rock of Sala.mia I 

Theee acenea 1 their story not unknown, 

.Ariae and make again your own ; 

Snatch from the uhea of your airee 

The em ben of their former fires ; 

And he who in the strife expires 

Will add to tbein a name of fear 

That Tyranny ab&ll qua.ke to hear, 

And leave hie 1001 a hope, a fame, 

They too will rather die than shame : 

For freedom 'a battle once begun, 

Bequeathrd by bleeding Sire to Son, 

Though baftled oft, ia ever won. 

Bear witneas, Greece, thy living page, 

Attest it many a dealhle88 age I 

While kinga, in dusty darkne88 hid 1 

Ha ore lt!t\ a nameleaa pJTilmid, 

Thy heroes, though the geneml doom 

Hath swept the column from their tomb, 

A mightier monument command, 

The mountains of their native land I 

There poi.uta thy Mu•e to stranger's eye 

The graves of those that cannot die l 

'Twere long to tell, and aad to tnce, 

Et.ch step from splendour to diagn.ce ; 

Enough-no fore1gn foe could quell 

Thy soul, till from itself it fell ; 

Yea! aelf-abuement paved the way 

To nllal.n-bonde and de1p0t away. 

BnoJJ,

POaiB 0 .. J'B.DDOII UD PATIU01'1Bll. 265 

t~.c Ju:ou o£ ~~cnnoniw. 

TBrr fell devoted, but undying; 

The very goJes their names eeem'd eighing : 

The waters murmur'd of their name ; 

The wooda were peopled with their f&me ; 

The silent pillar, lo1l6 and vey, 

Claim'd kindred with their sacred clay ; 

Their epirit.a wrapp'd the duaky mountain, 

Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain; 

The meanest rill, the mi~tbtieat river 

Roll'd mingling with the1r fame for ever. 

Deapite of every yoke abe bears, 

That land ia glory's atilland theirs I 

'Tie etill a watch-word to the earth : 

When man would do a deed of worth, 

He points to Greece, and turns to tread, 

So eanction'd, on the tyrant'• head : 

Be looks to her, and MlBhea on 

Where life is lost, or freedom won. 

:BTRON. 

Jang af f~c •ruk t)ott. 

Tn islea of Greece, the ialea of Greece ! 

W'bere burning Sappho lov~d and aung, 

Where grew the am of war and peace,- 

Wbere Delos roee 1 IUld Phmbus sprung I 

Eternal summer gilas t hem yet, 

But all, except their aun, ia Bet. 

The Scian and the TeiiUl muae, 

The hero's harp, the lover'• lute, 

Have found the fame your shorea refuse; 

Their place of birth alone is mute 

To aounda which echo further west 

TbiUl your aires' " Island a of the Bleat. ' 1 

Tbe mountains look QU Marathon- 

And Marathon looks on the aea ; 

And musing there an hour alone, 

I d.ream'd that Greece might still be frt!e · 

For, standing on the Persians' vave, 

I 

I could not deem myself a alave.

A 'lria~ Bate on the rocky brow 

Whtch loob o'er eu..-Lorn 8&lamia ; 

And ahipe by thouaanda lay below, 

A.hd men in uationa .-.ll were JWs! 

He oonnted them at break of day- 

And when the ann eet where weN tber t 

And where are they t and where art thou, 

.My COWl try 1 On thy voiceleae shore 

The heroic lt.y i.8 tune leu now- - 

The heroic bosom beata no mol'e I 

And must thy lyre, eo long divine, 

Degenerate into h&Dda like mine 1 

'Tie aomething, m the dearth o( &.me, . 

Though liuk'd among a fetter'd raoa, 

To feel at least a patriot's ahame, 

Even aa I sing, su.ft'uae my face ; 

F or what ia left. the poet here 1 

For Greeks a bluah-for Greece a tear • 

.Muat 10e but weep o'er d11ya more blest t 

Moat 10e but blush t-Our fathers bled. 

&rth I render back from out thy breast 

A remnant of our Spartlul dead I 

Of the three hnndred grant but three, 

To make a new Thermopylro I 

What, aileut atill1 and silent a.! I 7 

Ah ! no ;-the voicea oftl1e dead 

Sound like -a distant torrent'a Call, 

And answer,'' Let one living bead, 

But one a.rill&-we come, we come I'' 

'Tis but the living who are dumb. 

In vain-in vain ; atrilte other chords ; 

Fill high the cap with &mian ~ne I 

Leave bs.ttlea to the Turkish hordes, 

And abed the blood of Saio'a vine I 

Hark ! rising to the ignoble call 

How anawera each bold Bn.ccbanall 

You ha.e the Pyrrhic danoo aa yet, 

Where ia the Pyrrhic pbala.nx gone t 

Of two web leMons, -.rhy forget 

The nobler and the manlier one 1 

Yoll have the letters Cadmus ga~e 

Think ye he meant them for a alan ]

Fill high the bowl with Samio.n wine! 

We Will not think of thetnea like these I 

It made Anacreon'a song diTine: 

He amed-but aerveO. Polyorate& 

A tyrant; but our maaters then 

Were atiU, at leaat, our countrymeo. 

Tba tyriWt of the

POSKa OY J'RKBDOll A~D PATRtOTISJ(, 

ltllUD 5oi~aria. • 

AT midnight, in his guarded tent, 

The Turk wae dreaming of the hour 

When Greece, her kuee in suppliance bent, 

Should tremble at hie power: 

In dreams, through camp nnd court, he bore 

The trophies of a conqueror; 

In dreams hie song of triumph beard ; 

Then wore his monarch's signet-ring: 

Then preBB'd that monarch's thron&-&ldng; 

As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 

A.8 Eden's garden-bird. 

At midnight, in the forest shades, 

Bozurus ranged his Suliote band, 

True as the steel of their tried blades, 

Heroes in heart and hand. 

There bad the Peraian's thouaa.ndil stood, 

There had the glad eRrth drunk their blood 

On old Plat.lsa's day; 

And now there breathed that haunted ea 

The eons of aires who conquer'd there, 

With arm to strike, and soul to dare, 

As quick, as far as they. 

An hour pass'd on-the Turk awoke; 

That bright dream was his last; 

HQ wok&-to hear his sentries shriek, 

''To o.rmsl they come I the Greek! the Greek!" 

He woke-to die midst 1la.me, and smoke, 

And about, and groan, and sabre-stroke, 

And death·shots falling thick and fast 

As lightning from the mountain-cloud; 

And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 

BozzARJ& cheer his band : 

"Strik&-till the last arm'd foe expires; 

Btrik&-for your Altar& and your Jirea; 

Strlk&-for the green graves of your sires; 

God-6Xid your native land I" 

• fU ~n 11111.11 attAck UJ>OII tile Tutltllb camp at LaiDL lllollt.e of l])e -eftt 

J>la~ Aacuatto. 18111, &~~cUiln>ln!d 1D tl\8 momenLor-natoey. Rio lallwonll 

".,.._ • 'ro illo ror lll>o"7 11 a pfeuare, 110t a pal a."

They fought-like brave men, long and well ; 

They piled that ground 'llf'it.h Mo.lem lll&in; 

They conquer'd- but Bozznl8 fell, 

Bleeding at every veilL 

H.iJ few aurviving comrades eaw 

H.iJ emile, when rang their proud hurrah, 

And the red field wa.e won : 

Then aaw in death his eyelids close 

Calmly, as to a night's repoae, 

Like flowers at set of eon. 

Come to the bridal chamber, Death ! 

Come to the mother's when she feels, 

For the first time, her firat-bom'a breat.b ; 

Come when the bleii!Mid -1a 

That close the ~enee are broke, 

And crowded Cities wail ita stroke ; 

Come w eoneamption'e ghastly form, 

The eut.hquake shock, tbe oce&D-etorm, 

Come when the he&rt beata high a.nd w&rm, 

With ~qu~t-song, and dance, and wi.ue: 

And thou IU't terribl&-the tear 

The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier; 

And all we know, or dream, or feu 

Of agony, are thine. 

But to the hero, when his a word 

Has won the bAttle for the free, 

Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word ; 

And in ita hollow tonea are heard 

The thanks of milliona yet to be. 

Come, when his t&ak of fame ia wrought 

Come, with the laurel-leaf, blood-bought 

Come in her crowning hour-ud then 

Thy aunken eye'e unearthly light 

To him ia welcome u the ~ht 

Of eky and a tam to priaon d men ~ 

Thy grasp ie welcome u the lwld 

Of brother in a foreign land ; 

Thy summons welcome as the cry 

That told the Indian ialea were nigh 

To the world-eeelting Genoeae, 

When the land-wind, from woods of palm, 

And orange-groves, and 6elde of balm, 

Blew o'er the Hayti&n aeu.

!170 l'OIDlS o:r lrRUDO¥ 41CD PATlltO'l'l811 • 

.Bozua1e! with the storied brave 

Greece nurtured in her glory'a time, 

Reat thee-there ia no prouder grc.ve 1 

E'en in her own proud clime. 

She wore no funeral weeds for thee, 

Nor bade the dark he&rae WI\Ve ita plume, 

Like torn branch !rom death'• leafteu tree, 

In aorrow'• pomp ancl pageantry, 

The heartleas luxury oC the tomb: 

But abe rememben thee u one 

Long loved, and for" season gone; 

For thee her poet's lyre ia wrea.thed, 

R11r mwble wrought, her music bre.thed ; 

For thee abe riJlga the biriJld.ay belle ; 

Of thee her babes' tint liaping tell• : 

F or thine her evening prayer ia lllid 

At pt\l&ee couch, and cottage bed ; 

Her aolclier, cloaing with the foe 

Givee·f'or thy eake a deadlier blow; 

Bia plighted maiden, when abe fean 

For him, the joy of her young yean, 

Thinka of thy !ate, ~d chaeta her tean : 

And she, the mother or thy boy., 

Though in her eyo and faded cheek 

Ie reAd the grief she will not apeak, 

The memory of her buried joye 1 

And even she who gave the" birth, 

Will, by their pilgrim~iroled hearth, 

, Talk oftby doom without a ai"b : 

For tbon art Freedom'& nowt and Fame's, 

One of tbe few, the immortal names, 

That were not born to die. 

H.u.LliCx:. 

le'T death to fall for Freedom's right 1 

Be's dead alone that lacks her light 

ADd murder sullies in Beaven's eight 

The sword he draw• : 

What can alone ennoble fight f 

A noule Cd.UBe I

POIKII OJ' FR.UDOX ~MD PATBlOTI.IlL 

!il 

Give thAt! a11d welcome War to brace 

Her drums! a.ntlrend H eaven'• reeking apace! 

The colours planted face to faee, 

The charging cheer, 

Though Del\th'a pale hor&e lead on the chaae, 

ShAlletill be dear,. 

And place our trophies where men kneel 

To Heaven !-but Heaven rebukes my zeal! 

The cause of Truth and human weal, 

0 God above I 

Transfer it from the sword's appeal 

To peace and love. 

JicnJi' J ~bbuu ta * Jlm of Jomt. 

I cox& not here to talk, ye know too weU 

The story of yov tbTaldom-we a.re elavea l 

The bright sun rises to ita courae, and lighta 

A race of slaves : he eeta, &nd hia last beam 

Falla on a ala.ve ; not aucb aa swept 

Along by the full tid a of power, the conqueror leads 

To crimson g!Qry, and undying be ; 

But baee, ignoble alavea; alaTea to a borde 

Of petty t:fl'nta, feudl\l dea~ta ; lGrda 

Rich in aome dozen paltry Yillage1 ; 

Strong in eomtr hundred spearmen ; only great 

In that atrange spell, a name : each hour dark fraut.l, 

Or open rapine, or protected murder, 

Cry out &gainst them; but this nry day, 

An houeet man, my neighbour 

W aa a truck, at ruck like a dog b1 one who wore 

The badge of Ursini; becauae, forsooth f 

Be toaa'd not high hia 1"8&dy cap in air, 

Nor lifted up hie voice in servile ahonta 

At eight of thAt great ruffian. • . . • 

• . • . • • . • • Such ahamea are common. 

I have known deeper wrnngt. I that speak to ye, 

I bad a brother once, a gracious boy, 

Full of all geutlene811, or calm eat hope, 

Of aweet and quiet joy-there waa the look . 

or Heaven upon his face, which limnen glY8 

To the beloved di.eciple. How lloved

That gracious boy ! younger by fit\een yeal'll ; 

Brother at on co and sou! He left my aide, 

A aummer'a bloom on his fair cheeks, a emile 

Parting hia innocent lips. In one abort hour, 

The pretty, harmleaa boy w&a alai11. . • . 

• • • • • Rol1.8e, ye "Romans! Rouse, ye slavea! 

HAve ye brave aona1 Look in the next fierce brawl 

To eee them die I Rave ye fair daughterel Look 

To aee tht-m live, torn from your arms, d iatain'd ! 

Diahonour'd I and ifye dare call for justice, 

Be answer'd by the lash ! Yet this is Rome, 

That sat on her seven hills, and from her thl'one 

Of beauty ruled the world. Yet we are Romana. 

Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman 

Wu greater than a .king; and once again, 

Hear me ye walla, that echo'd to the tread 

Of either Brutus ! once ag:1in, I swear 

The Eternal City shall be fr ee, her IIODB 

Shall walk with princes ! 

.M.urr BUSSELL ldiTJ'Oan,. 

lJmam'• i.ong.* 

Sotnro the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea f 

JuovAH baa triumph'd-hia people are free; 

Sing-for the pride of the tymnt is broken ; 

Hie chariots, hill horsemen, a.ll splendid and brav 

How vain waa their boast, for the LoiU> hath but 

apoken, 

And chariots and horeemen are sunk in the wave. 

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea, 

JEHOV.All has triumph'd-his people o.re free! 

Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the LoRD, 

Hie word was our arrow, hie breath was our swo1'd : 

Who shall return to tell Egypt the story 

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride f 

For the LoiU> hath look'd out from his pillar of ~lory, 

And a.ll her brave thousands are dash'd in the t.1de, 

Bound the loud timbrei o'er Egypt's dark sea, 

J movAB hu triumph'd-hi.a people are free I 

.Moou. 

• u And ICI1am tile propbeteea, the tlater or Aaron, toot a Umbrel In her batod; 

and all tbo ,_'l'e.llt out Wr ber '!'llll Uml>rell &lid Willi

I'Om&.B 0~ J'BUDOll AliD P..LT8JOT18ll, 

2i3 

To ?nmetrel Boy to the war ie gone 1 

In the ran.k.s of death you'll find him ; 

Hie father's s'11ord he hae girded on, 

And his wild harp along behind him.- 

11 Land of aoog I " u.id the wurior bard, 

"Though all the world betrays thee, 

Or~e sword at lteaat thy righta ahall guard, 

One faithful harp ehall praise thee I" 

The Minatrel lfell !-but the foemau'e chain 

Could not bring his proud aoul Wider ; 

The harp he lved ne'er spoke again, 

For he tore ita chorda uunder ; 

.A.od aaid, "No chaine ahall sully thee, 

Thou soul of love and bravery I 

ThY aong~~ weJ:-e m!uie for the pure and free, 

They 8halluever sound in al.avery." 

Moou. 

:Bll.:lu.m7.e there the m11o, with eoul eo dead, 

Who never to himaelf hath said, 

"This is my 0'111'11 1 my native land I" 

Whose heart hath ne'er "ithin him b'Dl'D'd, 

Aa home his foot.etepe he hath torn'd, 

From wand'riug on a foreign atrand I 

If eoch there breathe, go, ma.rk him weJJ ; 

For him no Minatrel rapturea IJWell; 

High though hie titles, proud hie name, 

Boundleaa hill Wt!alth &a wish can claim ; 

Deepite thoee titles, power, and pelf, 

The wretch, con

fi4 

1'08D OJ' I'RliiiDOX AliD PA21110inSX. 

fmigmrl's Sang. 

HoKB of our hearts, our fa then' home ! 

Land of the brave and free ! 

The keel ia ftashing through the fOAm 

That bean us far from thee. 

We aaek a wild and distant shore, 

Beyond the Atla.ntic m~n; 

We leave thee to return ne more, 

Nor Tiew thy olift'e agaia. 

13nt may dishonour blight our f:\me, 

And quench our honsehold tirea, 

When we or o~ forget thy na.me, 

Green island of OO.T aires I 

PRUHlL£ 

ltbt ~o&t .of (D~. 

AlfD ther-e before her where abe stands, 

The mountains rise, the lake exl?&ncla; 

Aronnd the terraced 11nmmit twmes 

The leafy coronal of vines ; 

Withw the watery mirror deep 

Nature's calm convene liea asleep ,; 

Above she sees the sky's blue glow, 

The foreat'e·varied green below, 

And fl\r ita vaulted vistas through 

A distant grove of darker hue, 

Where mounting high from clumpt of o~~ok 

Curls lightly up the thin gee,- smoke ;, 

And o'er the bougb.a that ovt>:r-bower 

The orag, "' caatle'a turrets tower- 

An eaetern casement mantled o'er 

With ivy, tlashea back the gleam 

Of sun-rise-it was there of yore 

She aate to see that sun-riae po~r 

Ita splendour round-fib& seee no moTe, 

For teiU'S dispe111ed !ihe dream. 

Thus seized and •peechleRa ba

For words are 1teiak aud ~ _, -k 

Wbeo wauted fifty-fold, 

And then( i! aile~ will not epnk:, 

Or tremb ing lip aad cb.allging cheek, 

There's nothiBg told.. 

Bat could ahe have reveal'd to him 

Wbo qaestioo'd th-, the viaion brifbt 

That ere hie words were eaid sn• dia 

And vauiah'd from her aigb~ 

Eaay the anawer were to luiow, 

And plain to underst&nd,- 

'I'bat mwd aod memory both muat fail, 

And life itself muat aln.cken sail, 

And thought ita fuoctiona muat forego, 

And fancy lose ita lateet glow, 

Or ere that land 

Could pictured be lea bright and fair 

To her wboee home and heart are there I 

That land the loveliest that eye MD aee 

The atrauger ne'er(~) then bow abould abe l 

TA.TL6& 

'antd.ru ~~ .®U. 

~u is a land, of &'f'ery lRnd the ptide, 

Beloved b,r heaven o'er all the world beaide; 

. Wbere br1ghtar anna dispense aerener light, 

And milder moone emparadise the night; 

A land of beauty, Yirlue, valour, truth, 

Time-tutor'd age, and love--exalted youth: 

The wnndering mariner, whose eye exploJU 

The wealthien iele~~, the most enebantmg shores, 

Vie we not a re&lm so bountiful and fair, 

Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air : 

In every clime the magnet of hie soul, 

Toueb'd by re01embranoe, trembles to ~at pole; 

For in tbi.e land of heann'a peculiar gra~; 

The heritage of natuN'a noblest raoe, 

There ia a 1p0t of earth eupremely blest, 

A dearer, &'Weeter spot than all the reatt 

Where man, creation's tyrant, caata al!idt! 

Hie sword and eceptTe, pngcantry and pride, 

While in hia aot\en'd looks benignly blend 

The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend ;

Here woman reigna; the mother, daugbter 1 wife, 

Stnw with fresh flowers the narrow way or life I 

In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, 

An angel-guard of loves and graoee lie ; · 

Aroona her kneea domeatie cfutiea meet, 

And ii.reaide pleuurea gambol at her feet. 

Where ahall that land, that apot of earth be found 1 

Art thou a man t-a patriot f-look around ; 

Oh, thou shAlt find, how e'er thy footateps roam, 

That land tAy COWltry, and that apot thy home I 

Molf1'GODB;T. 

'bt" Japptef i paf. 

Btrr where to find that happiest apot below, 

Wbo can direct, when all pretend to know t 

The shuddering tellJ\.Ut of the frigid zone, 

Boldly proclaims that happieet 11pot his own ; 

Extola the treune or his atormy aeaa, 

And hla long nighta of revelry a~~d eue: 

The naked negro, panting at the line, 

Bouta of h.ia golden sands and palm7. wine, 

:Baaka in the glare, or atema the tep1d wave, 

.A.nd thaub liia goda for all the good they gave. 

Such ia the patriot's bout wbere'er we roam, 

Ria tint beat country ever i.e at hOJne. 

. 0oLDB.IflTB, 

~ «aunitt• htat !ltfmu. 

~· Doet intend 

To b&niah the firm troova before wh011e valour 

:Ba.rbarian milliona ahrink appa11'd, and leave 

Our city naked to the fil'llt .-ult 

Of rec\leea {oee I 

ltm. No, Crythea!-in onnelvea, 

l.o our own honest hearta anu cbainleu bands, 

Will be our afeguard :-while we aeek no \188 

Ofarma we would not have our children blend 

With their firat innocent wishes; while the love 

Of country and of justice ahall be one 

To their young reaeon ; while their ainewa grow 

Firm 'midat tlie gladne111 of heroic aportt~: 

We ahall not uk to guard our country's peact>, 

One Ml.1iah pa.uion, or one venal eword. T AUOtTB.D.

PART VI. 

POEMS OF RELIGION. 

80'11' bf~oU!lltle ~loa when eombtne4 

With bollneetl Ob, bow 41Yintl,r '"nllnr 

'Willleolemo maalo In tbe ear ot God. 

Tin priiiW dlltiH ohtoelloft Ub IW'II 

'Ibe dlaflu. that IOOtho, ud heal, and bleu, 

.An -.'d al Ulo-or~. tlow- 

· WOC.WCIII!B.

POEMS OF RE.LIGION. 

!nilmati.ont of !nnnortalltu, from ~ll.caitm a JJ! 

6adu '!Jilb~oob. 

Tu.Ku wu a time when meadow, grove, and stnam, 

Tbe earth, and every common eight, 

To me did ae.em 

Apparell'd in celt,atial light, 

The glory and the fre:ilhness of a dream. 

It i1 not now ae it hath been of yore ; 

Turn wheresoe'e1· I may, 

By ni~ht or do.y, 

The things wh1ch I b i!I.VI! seen I now can aee no more. 

The Rainbow corne1 and goea, 

And lovely ia the. Roae ; 

The Moon dotb vrith delight 

Look .round her when. the heaveDJI an bare, 

Watel'8 on a etar;rJ night. 

Are bea11tiful and fair; 

Tho aunahine ia a glorious birth; 

But. yet. I know, whel'll'er 1 go, 

That there hath p11st away a glory from the eartL. 

Now, while the bitda thus 1ing "joyou• 10ug, 

And while the young lambs bound 

.Aa to the tabor'a sound 

To me alone there e&lllle a t hought of grlef: 

A timely utterance g~~ve that thoUiht relief, 

And I again am etrong : 

The c::\tara.c:ta blow tbteir trumpeta from tbe al.eep; 

No more ahall grief of mine the aeuons wrong ; 

I hear the .Echoes through the mountaina throng, 

The Win~ come to me from the fiel~ of alaep, '

280 P·OE¥8 OP B.KLlOIOJf. 

And &ll the earth i• gay ; 

Land and se& 

Give t.henlllelvea up to jollity, 

And with the heart of May, 

Doth every Beut keep holiday; 

Thou Child of Joy, 

Shout round me, let me bear thy about!~, thou happy 

Shepherd-boy! 

Ye ble~~sed Creatures, I have heard the call 

Ye to each other make; I aee 

The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; 

My heart is at your festival, 

lly head bath ita coron~~J, 

The fulneu of your bliae, I feel-! feel it all 

Oh nil day I if 1 were sullen 

While the Earth herself ia adorning, 

This aweet May-morning, 

And the Children are culling 

On every aide, 

Iu a thousand valleys far and wide, 

Freeh flowere ; while the eun ehinea w3rm. 

And the Babe leaps up on hie mother's arm ~ 

I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! 

- But tbere'e a Tree of many, one, 

A single Field which I have Jook'd upon, 

Both Of them Speak Of IIOtnething that is gone; 

The Pansy at my feet 

Doth the same tale repeat : 

Whither is fled the visionary gleam 1 

Where is it now, the glory a.nd the drellm P 

Our birth is but a s11>8p and a forgetting: 

The IOU] that mea with Ull, our life's Star, 

Hath had el.aewbere its setting, 

And cometh from afu; 

Not in entire forgetfulneae, 

And not in utter nakedneas, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who Ia our home : 

Heaven liee about us in our infancy! 

Bbadea of the prillon-houae begin to cloae 

Upon the growing Boy, 

But he beholds the lii{ht and whence it dow•, 

He eeea it in hia joy;

• 

l'OEMS OJ' BJI:LIGIOI'. 

The Yootb, who daily farther from the eut 

Huat travet 1 still is Nature'• Prieat, 

And by the vision splendid 

Ia on hie way attended ; 

At length the mm perceive& it die away, 

And fade into the light of common day. 

Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own ; 

Yearnings she bath in her own natur!U kiud, 

And, even with something of a Mother'& mind, 

And no unworthy aim, 

Tlte homely Nu1'8e doth all she eno 

To make her Foster-child, her Inmate MAn, 

Forget the glories he hath known, 

And tha.t imperial palACfl whence be came. 

Beboltl the Child among his new-born Lli118es, 

A lix: ye&n~' Darling of a pigmy aize I 

See, where 'mid work of his ow11 hand he lies, 

Fretted by sallies of his mother'• kissea; 

With light upon him from bia father's eyes I 

See, at hia feet, some little plan or cbut, 

Some fragmtont from hie dream of human life, 

Sb&ped by himself with new ly-learoed art; 

A wedding or a festivRI, 

A mourning or a funeral, 

And this bath now his hea.rt 1 

And unto this he frames hie song: 

Then will be fit hie tongue 

To dio.logue11 of business, love, or strife ; 

But it will not be ]onlf 

Ere this be throWD &!llde, 

And with new joy anti pride 

The little Actor cons anot.her ~; 

Filling from time to time hie ' bumoroua stage" 

With iill the Persona 1 

doWD to p&laled Age, 

That Life brings witn her ln her eqnipnge; 

Aa if his whole vocation 

Were endle1111 imitation. 

Tbon, whoee exterior aemblanoe doth belie 

Thy Soul's immeDBity ; 

Thou beat Philoaopber, who yet doat keep 

Thy heritage ; thou Eye among the blind, 

That, deaf ADa eilent, read'at the eternal deep, 

Han.oted for ever by the eternal mind,- 

i81

... 

- 

1'QJIII8 

OJ' lli!LlGlOII. 

JliPty &ophetl' Seer bleat I' 

On whom th0fl8 trutha do reet, 

Which we are tolbg all ou livea to ind, 

In darkneu loat, the darkne. of the graTe ;· 

Thou over whom thy lmmo.rlalit:y 

B~ like the ~y. a l!Uater o'er a Sian, 

A Presence which fa not to be put by; 

Thou little Chilcl,yet glorious tn the migbt 

Ofheaven·bom freedom on thy beillg'alieight, 

Why with such earnest paiua dost thou provoke 

The yean to brin~ the inevitable yoke, 

Tbua blindly With tbr b}esaednesa &t atrife 1 

Fullaoon thy Soul ahal br.ve her earthly freight, 

And cuatom lie upon thee with a weight, 

Heavy as froet, and deep almost aa life. 

0 joy ! thr.t in our embers 

h eometbing thu doth live, 

That nature yet remombon 

What Wai 80 fugitive I 

The thought of our put. yean i.o me doth breed 

Perpetual benediction : not indeed 

For tliat which ia moat worthy to be bleat; 

Delight and liberty, the aimple creed 

Of Childhood whether busy or at reat, 

With new-tl;\ged hope atillll.uttering in. hie brei!.Bt : 

Not for theae I nYs& 

The song of thanks and llrais&; 

l3ut for tho110 obstinate ~uest1onings 

Of aenae and outward thwga, 

Falllnga from ua, va.niahinga ; 

Blank misgivings of a Creature 

Moving about in worlda not realized, 

High inatinctl before which our morlt.l Nature 

Di«l tremble like a guilty Thing aurpriaed: 

But for thoae firat atJ'O'Ctioua, 

Thoee abadowy rocollectiona, 

Which, be they what they~. 

Are yet the fountain light of all our day, 

A..rl6 yet a muter light or all oo.r seeing; 

Uphold us, cheriah, and have power to make 

Our noisy Je&l'tl seem moment. in tbe being 

Of the eternal Silenoe: truths that wake, 

To periah never ; 

Which ueither l.ieUeeeoe•, nor mad endea.Tour,

Ne>r Man nor Boy; 

Nor all that is at emnity with 1'1· 

Oa.n utterly abolish or cfeetroy t 

Hence in a. aeasou of calm weathu· 

Though inla.nd far we be, 

Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 

Which brought us hither, 

Can in a moment travel thither, 

And see the Children sport upon the shore, 

And hear the mighty. wllof;ent rolling ev~~ 

Then sing, ye Birds, slnf:S.~~g a joyoua aoBg I 

And let the young ba bound 

As to ~he tabor's eound ! 

We b;1 tho'!lght will join y,our throng, 

Ye that pipe andye tl.ul.t play, 

Ye that through your hearts to-da:r 

Feel the gladness. of the May J . 

What though the radiance wh~ch was once so bright 

Be now for ever taken from my eight, 

Though nothing can bring back the hour 

Of splendour in the graliB, of glory in the fiower 

We will grieve not, rather find 

Strength in what remains behind ; 

In the prim.alsympathy 

Which having been must ever be;.. 

In the 110othing thoughts that aprillg 

Out of human suffering ; 

In the faith thAt looks throu$h death, 

In years that bring th11 philoaoph1c mind. 

And 0 ye Fo~t&illl!, Men.dllws, Hills, and Grov~ii, 

Forebode not any severing of our loves! 

Yet in my heart of hearts I fe.el your migbt; 

I only have relinquiBh'd one delight 

To live beneath your more habitual away. · 

I love the Brooks, which down their channels fret, 

Even more th!tll when 1 tripp'd lightly as they ; 

The innor.ent brightness of a new-born Day 

Ia lo11ely yet ; 

The Clouds that gather round the setting auu, 

Do, take a. aober colouring from ~ ey.e 

Tb.at hath kept- walroll o'er mAll's w.ortality i 

Another race hath been, a.nd other pa.lme are wou.

Tha.Db to the humAn heart by which we liYe, 

Thanka to ita tenderne., ita joyw, and fe&r~~, 

To me t.ha meanest ftower Uat blow. eau give 

Thougbta that do oft.en lie too deep (or tean. 

WOaD8'1JOB.TEr. 

~~t JDUJ. 

0 tOWO!l.lln' poor man I what doet thou beat" 

Loelt'd up within the caaket of thy breaat 1 

What jewela, and what ricbee baat thou there t 

What heavenly treaaure in eo wMk a chest 1 

Look tn thy soul, and thou shalt beauties find, 

Like those which drown'd Narci•u• in the tlood ; 

Honour and pleaaure both are in thy mind, 

And all that In the world ia counted good. 

Think of h~r worth, and think that God did m~, 

Thi.e worthy mind should worthy things e.mbrace; 

Blot not her beautiea with thy thoughts unclean, 

Nor her dishonour with thy pMsion base. 

Kill not her quiclt'ninl{ power with eurfeitings : 

Mar not her aenae w1th eenauality: 

Cut not her wit on idle things: 

.Make not her free-willalave to .auity. 

And when thou think'et of her eternity, 

Think not that death againat her nature i.e ; 

Think it a birth : and when thou go'at to die, 

Sing like a swan, &a if thou went' at to bliaa. 

And thou my eoul which turn'et with curioua eye, 

To Tiew the beams of thine own form divine, 

Know 1 

that thou canst know nothing perfectly, 

While thou art clothed with this tleAh of mine. 

Take heed of overweening, and compare 

Thy peacock's feet with thy gAy peaeoclt'a train ; 

Study the beet and higbeat tblnga that are, 

But of tbyael£ an humble thought retain. 

Cast down tbyaelf, and only strive to raiae 

The glory of thy Maker'• aacred name : 

Uae all thy powera, that bleaed power to praiae, 

Which givee thee power to be, and nee the IllUDe. 

D.&.vms.

l'OEK!! OJ' ULlOlOK, 

Wz eow the glebe, we reap the corn, 

We build the bou.ee where we may l'Mt, 

.And then, at momenta, auddenly, 

We look up to the great wide 1lty, 

Inquiring wherefore we were born •• • 

For earuest, or for-jeat 1 

The eenset folding thick and dark 

About the sti11ed eoul within 

We guee~~ diviner thing~ beyon~, 

And yearn to them with yearning fond i 

We strike out blindly to a mark 

Be1ieved in, but not eeen. 

We vibrate to the pant and thrill 

Wherewith Eteroity hu curl'd 

In eerpent-twine about God' a aeat I 

While, Creaheni.ng upward to Ria feet, 

In llr&(lual growth Hie full-leaved ,-ill 

lhpandl from world to world. 

And in the tumult and exceae 

ol act and paaaion under sun, 

We eometimea h~h, eof\ and far, 

.A.e 1ilver etar did touch with star, 

The ld.ee or Peace and Righteou.meu 

Through all things that are done. 

God keepe his holy myateriea 

JUit on the outside of man'a dream I 

In dia~n Blow, we thi.nlt 

To bear their pinions riee and aink, 

While they float pure beneath B.ia eyes, 

Like awana &down a stream. 

Abetractions are they, from the forma 

Of H.ia great beauty 1-e:u.ltations 

From Hill great glory 2-etron.g previaion.a 

Of what we ahall be ?-intuitions 

or what we are-in calma and atorme, 

Beyond our peace and paaaion.a1

Thioga 11amele.as! which, in paaaing eo, 

Do stl'ike ua with a subtle grace. 

We My," ~o paaeee 1"-they af'e dumb; 

We cannot see them go or come; 

Their tooobet1 f&lleofl;..-.oolct-·now 

Upon a blind mao's faoe. 

Yet, touching eo, they draw 11.boTe 

Our common tho~hts to HaaveD41 tmlalc>wn 

Onr daily joy and pa1~ advance 

To a diville eignificance,- 

Our human love-0 mottallove, 

That light ia not ita own ! 

And, aometimea, horror chille our blood 

To be so nel\r such myetic Thinga, 

And we wrap round ua, for defence, 

Our purple manners, moods of sense 

As angela, from the face of God, 

Stand hidden in their wings. 

And, sometimes, through Iiit'e'a heavy IIW'Ound 

We grope for them I with strangled· breat'h 

We stretch. abroad our hands and try 

To reach them in our agony- 

And wide14 so, the broad life-wound 

Which soon ia l.&rge enough for deat'h. 

E. B. BltO'nlliG. 

HtoB thoughts I 

They come and go, 

Like the soft breat.hi.nga of a list'ning maiden, 

Whi1e round me ilow 

The winds, from woode and nelda with gladneSBiaden : 

When the ooro's ruatle on the ear dotn com&- 

When the eve's beetle eounds itiLdrow&y hum 

When the stars, dew-drops of the summer sky, 

Watch over aU with eoft and loving eye.- 

While the leavea quinr 

By the lone river, 

A.nd the IJUiet heart 

From deptlul doth o&U 

And garnera all-

POI!:KS 01' RU.IQlQlJ, 

Earth grows a aha.dow 

Forgotten whole, 

And Heaven liva. 

In the blessed soul! 

High thought. I 

Th!lY are with me, 

When, deep within tbe bosom o! the foreat, 

Thy morning melody 

.Abroad into the sky, thou, tbr08tla, poureat. 

When the young sunbeams glAnos &mOD£ the trees 

When on the ear comes the soft song of liees- 

When PVt-ry branch has its own favourite bird 

And eonga of summer. from each thicket heard !- 

Where the owl fiitte~ 

Where the roe eitteth, 

And bolilleaa 

Seems sleeping there ; 

While nature's pra.yer 

Goea up to heaven 

In purity, 

Till aU i.e glory 

And joy to Die ! 

High thoughts ! 

They are my own · 

"Wben I am resting on a mountain's bosom, 

And see below me atrown 

The huts and homes where humble Yirtue~~ bloesom; 

When I can trnce each streamlet through the meadow 

When I can follow every fitflll shadow- 

When I cau watch the winds nmong the corn, 

And see the waves along the forest bome ; 

Where blue-bell n11d heather 

Axe blooming together, 

And far doth come 

The Sabbath bell, 

O'er wood nnd fell; 

I bear the beating 

or nature's heart : 

Heaven is before me 

Gou I Thou art I

!'OIDI'B OJ' BG.IOIOIJ. 

Hip tho!l$hta I 

'l'h~y vunt 1lll 

ln momenta when the eoul is dim and duken'd ; 

They come to bleee, 

After tbe vanit.iea to which we hearken'd: 

When wearinesa hath come upon the apirit 

(Th0116 hoan of dukneea which we all inherit) 

Bante there not through a glint of warm IIWllhine, 

A wiuged thought which bids 1lll not repine 7 

1D jo1 and gladneea 

• 

ID mirth and sadneee, 

Come eig»a and tokena ; 

Life'e angel briDga, 

Upon it.a winge, 

Thoee bright communings 

The eoul doth kee~ 

Thoee thoughts of heaven 

So pllre and deep I 

lr dlaneed upon the meny meny Obri.etmu e•e, 

I went nghing put the dlurc:h ICT08I lbe moorlaud dreuy 

" Ohl ueYer Uti, and ..-ant, ud woe thia earth '!rill lean, 

ADd tbe bella but mock the wailing round, they alng 10 cheery. 

Bow long, 0 Lord I bow long before thou come again ? 

Still in cellar, and in garret, and on moorland dreary 

The otphan• moan, and widow• weep, and ~rmen toil in "aiu, 

Till eanh 1.1 lick of hope deferr'd, though Chri.etmaa belh be 

dleeJY." 

Then &role a joyous clamour from the wild-fowl ou the mere. 

Beneath the 1tart, acroes the enow, like clear belli ringing, 

And a ... oice within cried-" Listen I Christmaa carole even here, 

Tbongb tbon be dum~ yet o'er their worlt the nan and lllowa 

are mging. 

Blind I I live. I love, I reilttl ; and all the uationa throll!tb 

With the thunder of my judgments even now are ringmgl 

Do thou fulfil thy work but 11 yon wtld-lowl do, 

Tbon wilt heed 110 lea the wailing, yet hear through It 

angela ainging.'' 

Kufoai&T.

J'OJDl.ll OP RELIOlOll, 

T.uE not of ~mplea I There ia one 

Built without band-to mAnkind given ; 

Ita lampe are the meridian au.n, 

.Anrt all the stars of heann: 

Ita walla are the cerulean aky, 

Ite floor the earth eo gTeen and fair ; 

The nome is va.at immensity- 

AU nature worehipe there I 

The Alpa array'd in atainleu mow, 

The Andean t"&&lgea yet untrod, 

At anlll'iR, and at auMet, glow, 

Like altar-firu to God I 

A thonaand fierce voleanoee blaze. 

Ae if with hallow'..! victims rare; 

And thunder lifte itt voice in p~ 

AU DAtura wonbipe there I 

The ocean heaves reeiatleaaty, 

And pours his glittering tre111ure forth ; 

Bia wav-tbe prieathoo

I'Oiblll OJ' ASLliiiOK. 

~-ptt. 

TJD:D a.re thy glorioua works, Parent of good, 

.Almighty! Ttiine this uninnal frame, 

Thus wondrous fair: Tbywelf how wondroo.a then I 

UnspeakAble, who eitt'at above theee b.e&'!'eae, 

To na in risible, or dimly seen 

In these thylowut works ;-yet tbeae deelat"e 

Thy goodneaa beyond thought, a.nd power diviue. 

Speak, ye who beat ean tell, ye eons oflight, 

Angela ; for ye behold Him, and with eon~ 

And ohoralaymphoniea, day without night, 

Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in Heaven. 

On Earth join, &ll ye creaturea to utol 

Him first, Him Jut, Him midat, and Yithout end. 

FairP.at of at.va, laat in the train of nigh~, 

If better thou belong not to the dawn, 

Sure pledge o( day, that crown'at the -iliDg mom 

With thy bript circlet, praiae Him in thy apher~, 

While day arues, that aweet bout of prime. 

Thou Sun, of thia great world both eye a.nd aoul, 

Acknowledge Him thy greater; sound Ria praise 

In thy eternal eonne, both when thou climb'at, 

And when high noon hast gain'd,and when thon fall' at. 

Moon, that now meet'et tlie orient sun, now diest, 

With the tix'd amra, fix'd in their orb that iliea; 

And ye, five other wand'ring tiree, that move 

ln mystic dance nat without song, resound 

Hie pra.iae, who out of darkD- call'd up light. 

Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth 

Of Nature's womb, that in qaatemion nn 

Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix 

And nourish all things ; let yonr eeaaelesa change 

Vary to our great lri&ku still new praiA. 

Ye Miata and Exbalationa, that now rise 

From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, 

TUI the aun pain' your fleecy akirte witb gold, 

In honour to the wot"ld'a great Author ria ; 

Whether to deck with clouds th' unoolour'd sky, 

Or wet the tbinty earth with falling abowen, 

"Rising or falling, atiU advance bia praiae. 

His praise, ye Winds, that from four qu!ll'tera blow, 

Breathe aof\ or loud; :1nd wave your tope, ye Pine.!!, 

With every plant, in sign. of wonili.ip wave.

POE¥8 or RELIGlO!f, 

291. 

Fountains, and ye that warble 1 aa ye ll.GJr, 

Melodious murmurs, warbling, ·tune his p~e. 

JGin voice$, all ye living Souls: ye BirdJI, 

That singing up to Heaveu·gate ascend, 

Bear on your wings and in;our uotea his p~ 

Ye that in waters glide, an ye that walk 

Thtt enrth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; 

Witness if I be ailent:, ~!lOrn or even, 

To hill or valley, fountain, 0!' fresh shade, 

Made vocal by my f!Ong, and tAught his paiR. 

Hail, univer&ill Lord, l:ie bounteoue etill 

To give us only good; and if the night 

Have gather'd aught of evil or coOOMl'd, 

Disperse it, &II nGw llgbt dispels the dark I 

MlL'fON. 

BEFORE BlililUSE Df 'l'Bli: VALE 01' OMJ(0'0'10. 

HAsT thou a chtu'ln to stay the morni.llg·star 

In his steep course I So long he seems to pl\.use 

On thy bold awful head, 0 110vru.n Blanc I 

The Arve aud Arveiron at thy base 

Rave ceaselessly; but thouJ most awfulfor,xn! 

Risest from forth tl1 y silea t sea of pines, 

How silentlrl Arouu

292 1'01!lllB OJ' l!.!.LlOJOI( 

.Awake, my soul! not only paa~ive praiee 

Tb~ oweet I not nloue these a welling tears, 

Mute thanka and secret ecata.ey I Awake, 

V oioe of eweet song I A wake, my HeArt, awake I 

Green Tall's and icy clifti, all join my Hymn. 

Thou tint and chief. aole aovran ofthe Vale I 

0 attng~tling with the darkneee aU the n~ght, 

A.Jld vieateJ all night by troope of etan, 

Or wllen they climb the sky or when they link: 

Companion of the morning-etar at dawn, 

Tbyaelf Enrth'e T08Y star, and or the dawn 

Co-herald I wake, 0 wake, and otter praise I 

Who sank thy annleaa pillufll deep iu Earth 1 

Who til I'd thy countenance with T08)' light f 

Who m.&de thee parent ofperpet\llllettuma 1 

And you,]e five wild torrent• fiercely glad I 

Who call' you forth from night and utt.er death, 

From dl\rk and icy caverns call'd you forth, 

Down those precipitous, black, jAggt\11 Rocke, 

For ever ehatter'd, and the aame for ever 1 

Wbo gave you your invulnerable life, 

Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, 

Uneea.eing thunder, and eternal foam t 

And who comml\Oded (and the silence came), 

Bere let the billows stiffen and have rest f 

Ye ice-Calla! ye that from the mountain'• brow 

Adown enormous ravines elope amain 

Torrents, mdhi.nk.s, that heard a mighty vo1oe, 

ADd 11t\lpp'd at once amid their maddeet plunge ! 

Motioul-;aa torrent• I silent catarnct.! 

Who made you glorioua u the gBtee of Heaven 

Beueath the keen full moon 1 Who bade the sun 

Clothe you with rainbows t Wllo, with liYing dowen 

Oflovelieat blue, spread ga.rlande at your feet 1 

God I let the torrt>ntll, like 1\ ehont. of nation.e, 

Allawer I and let the ice-plain.e echo, God I 

God I eing ye meadow-atreama with gladaome voice ! 

Ye pine.-grovea, with your aoft an•l aoul·like sounds I 

And thev too ha,e a voice, yon piles of en ow, 

.And in tneir perilous fall ahall thunder, God I

P0Jt1(8 O:r B.ELtGtOlf. 

203 

Ye lh•iog flo"t"ers that akirt the eteroat frost! 

Ye wil•l·goabl ~port10g round the en~le'a nest! 

Y e eagle8, pl:\y-mate:. of the mountato·e!.orro ! 

Yel lightnings, the dN'.ad arrows of the clouds! 

Ye •·ignA aod wonders of the element I 

:Uttor Cot·th God, and 611 the hills with praise ! 

Thou too, honr Mount I with thy eky.pointing peaka, 

Oft t'1·om whose feet the avalanche, unheat•d, 

Shoots downward, glitteri ng tbrongb the pure aerenp 

Into the depth of clou•ls th:at veil Lby bt•tmst- 

Thoa too again, stupendous MountAin! thou 

Tl•at M I r11iee my hear!, awhile bow'd low 

In 11doration, up,.urd f•·oru thy bnse 

Slow-travelling with ,Jim eyee aufi'uaerl with tear. ~, 

Solemnly aeemeat, like a vapoury cloud, 

T o riee befoN me-Rise, 0 ever rise, 

Riee likt' a cloud of iucel18e, from the .Ebrth I 

Thou kingly Spirit throned nmong the billa, 

Thou dread 11mbaesador from Enrtb to Heaven, 

Great hierarch! tell thou the eilent sky, 

Aud tell the sttus, and tell yon ri¥1Df; sun, 

Earth, with her tholll!and voices, pnuaea God. 

CoiJmmrJK. 

JemrY en t~t 

.itasans. 

TBJI:ll'l. ae they change, ALiftGBTT FATB:ER these. 

Are but the varied Goo. The t'Olliog ye~~or 

Ia full of Tau. F orth iu the ple11aing Spring 

TilT heauty walks, TaT ten•leruei!B und love. 

Wiue Bu;,h the neldd; the eofl.eoing air is balm ; 

Echo the mouutl\ioa l'ouud; the for~st ~~miles; 

And every eeuae and every heArt is j oy. 

Then comes TaT glory in the Snmruer mouths, 

With light and bent refulgent. Tbeu TsT eun 

Shoots fu ll perfection tit rough the swelling year: 

And oft TaT voice iu drearlful thunrler spealta, 

Aocl oft at cL1wn, deep noon, or fnlliug eve, 

By brooke and groves in hollow-whispering gnles. 

TRY bounty eh iu~s in Autumn uocoufioed, 

Anrl a~reada a common fe~~at for aU thut lives. 

In Winter &'fl'ful Tsou I wit-h clouds and storms

Around TBD thrown, tempeat o'er U!m1Mit roll'~ 

lf.ajeatie d&rkneea! on the whirlwind's wing, 

Biding aubllme, Tuou bidd'et the world adore, 

And ho.mbleat nature with TllT northern bla.d. 

Mylt.eriona l'O'Ilnd I what skill, wb&t force divine, 

Dee!>-felt, in tl1eae ap~r I a aimple train, 

Yet eo delightful mix d, with auch kind art, 

Such beauty and beneficence combined ; 

Shade unperceived, so aoftening into abade; 

An•l a! lao forming an baJ"lllonioua whole, 

That, as they !!till succeed, they ravish atilL 

But wandering oft, with rude unconecioua gaze, 

Mau marks not TBI!Jt, mark& not the mighty band 

Thl\t 1 

ever busy, wbeela the eileut spheres; 

W orke in the aeeret deep ; ehoota steam in~ theae.s 

The fair profuaion thRt o'erapreade the apnng; 

Flings from the sun direct the tiaming day 1 

Feeds every creature; hurls ibe tempeai forth, 

And u on earth thia grateful ehange revolvM, 

With t.ranapori touches all the aprings or life. 

Natnn, attend ! join every living aoul 

Beneath the Bp!\cious temple of the sky, 

In &doratioo. join; and ardent raise 

One general song ! To Hut, ye vocal gales, 

Breatbe eon, whoee SPUUT in your freshneea breathes : 

Oh I talk of 1IJ.x in solitary gloome, 

Where o'er the rock the ecarcely waving pine 

Filt. the brown shade with a religious awe. 

And ye, whoee bolder note ia he!Vd afar, 

Who shake the utoniah\1 world, lin high to heaven 

The impetaona aong, and •Y from whom you rage. 

H1s praise, ye brooD, attune, ye trembling rille; 

And let me eateb it as I muse along. 

Ye headlong torrent., rapid, and profound; 

Ye eoner floods, that lea.tl the hamld maze 

A.loug the vale ; and t!lou, m"jeatio main, 

A eecn\ world of woudera iu thyself, 

Sound H1s stupendou11 praiee, whoee greater •oic~ 

Or bida yon l'04t 1 

or bida your roaring falL 

Sot\ roll your incense, herbe, anll fruita, and ftowen, 

In mingled clouds to Rut, whoee aun exalt., · 

Wboee brut.h perfumes you, and wuoee pencil p&iota.. 

Ye foreat-, benJ ; yo h&rveata, wa•e to lllM ;

Breathe you1· et.ill &ong into the 1•eaper'a he.ut, 

Ju home be goea beneath the joyoWI moon. 

Ye that keep wr.tch in Heaven, aa earth aaleep 

Unconacioua lies, effuse your mildest beams; 

Ye conatel.latio.na, while your angela e\rike, 

Amid the spangled aky, the ailnr lyre. 

Great eour ce of day I but image here below 

Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, 

From world to world, the vit&l ooean roWld, 

On Nature write with every bea.m Hts praise. 

The thunder rolla : be bush'd lbe prostrate wo1•ld ; 

While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hJ1DIL 

Bleat out afresh, ye billa; ye m011ey rocka. 

Retain the aound ; the broad responsive lowe 

Ye valleye raiee; for the GlllUT SBEPBBRD reigns, 

And hie uJUuft'ering kingdom yet will come. 

Ye woodlands all, awake: a bou.ndleBS song 

:Buret from the groves! and when the restless day, 

Expiring, laye the WIU'bling world aaleep, 

Sweetest of birds I sweet Philomela, charm 

The listeniug shades, and teach the night Hts praise. 

Ye chief, for whom the whole creation emiles, 

At ouce the bead, the heart, the tongue ofa.ll, 

Crown the great hymn I in swarming cities v&~~t, 

Assembled men, to the deep organ join 

The long resounding voice, oflr.breaking elel\1', 

At eolerun pauses, through the swelling base : 

And, aa each mingling tl:une iocrMaes each, 

In one united ardour riae to heaven. 

Or if you rather choose the rural ahnde, 

And find 11. f11.11e in every tiii.Cl'ed grove, 

There let tbe shepherd's lute, the virgin'a lay, 

Tbe prompting seraph, and the poet'elyreil 

Still ling t he Goo or Suaolfs, as they ro 

For me, -when I forget the darling theme, 

W hether \be blouom blo'lFio, the Summer-ra.y 

Ruseeta the plain, inapirwg Autumn glentnS, 

Or Winter nsea in the blackeuing east; 

Be my tongue mute, my fancy p!Unt. no more. 

And. dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! 

Should fate command me to the f.artheet Yerge 

Of the green earth, to d.iatant barb&roue climes, 

B.ivere unknown to eoug ; where firet the .un 

Gilda Indian moll!l1Ai.na, or hia aotting belolll

!96 

Flam• on tb' Atlantic ialee; 'tia nought to me : 

Since Uon ia eYer present, ever felt, 

In the void waete lUI in the city full; 

And '*here H~r vital brt'&thea there mu11t be joy. 

When even at l&~~t the solemn hour ehall co11.1e, 

And wiug my mystio ftigbt to future worlds, 

I ehePrful will obey ; there with new powers, 

Will rising wouclet .. aing. r CftliUOt go 

Where UIHVEB8AL LOVE not amilea around, 

Su11taining all yon orbe, nnri nil 1 heir auna; 

From seeming evilatill educing good, 

And better thence again, an• I het!Mr still, 

In infinite progreasion. But lloee 

Myeeltin Hnr, in LlGBT um:ruBI& I 

Come, then, expreuive Silence, muae HIS praise. 

TBOlll90lf. 

JpmofJahm. 

Goo oftbe e&rtb'e Pxtended plaine I 

The dark, greeu fi,.J,Ja conwnte•l lie; 

The mountAins riae lik11 bnly towera, 

Where m11n might commune with the sky; 

The tall eli.fl' challenges the storm 

That lowers upon the vale below, 

Where llh:lded fountains eend their etreama 

With joyous muaie in their fiow. 

God of the dark and heavy deep I 

The wavea lie aleepi'lg on the aa.nd.s, 

Till the fierce trumpet of the etorm 

Hath eummon'd up their thun•lering banda; 

Then the white aaila 111'8 daeh'd like foam, 

Or hurry trembling o'er the ~~eu, 

Till, calm'd by thee, the sinking gale 

Serenely breathes, "Depurt in peace." 

God of the foreat'a aolemn ahade I 

The. grandeur of the lonely tree, 

That wrestle• eingly with the gale, 

Lif'tA up admiring eyea to thee; 

Bat more majeatic f"r they atantl, 

When eirle by aide their ranks they form, 

To wav., on high their plnmee of green, 

And fight their b.tUea with the atorm.

POEJOI OF R¥Ll010N, 

God of the ligllt and viewleaa air I 

Where aummer breezes sweetly Dow, 

Or, gaUll'ring in their angry ruigbt, 

The fierce and wiut.17 tt>ropeat.B blow ; 

All-from the evening's vllliutive eigh, 

ThaL hat•dly lifts the drooping Dower, 

To the wild whirlwind's ntilluight cry, 

Breathe forth the lAnguage ofthy power. 

Gorl of the fnir 11nd open sky I 

How gloriously above· us spring~~ 

The tented dome, of heaveuly blue, 

Suapentled on the rainbow's r iu11a I 

Each brilliant atar 1 

tltat apnrkles through, 

Each gilded clouJ, tb:\t wuutlera free 

In evening's purplt= radiance, givea 

The beauty of ita prllide to thee. 

God of the r olling orbs above I 

Thy name il! written clearly bright 

In the wnrm dny'a unvarying blau, 

Or evening's golden ahower ul Ji~ht. 

For .every fire that fronts the eun, 

And every spark that w~~.ika alone 

.Around the utmoat verge or beave11, 

Were kindJ.,d at thy burning throne. 

God of the worltJ ! The hour rouat come, 

And nature's self to do at rell:lrtl; 

Her crumbling altnrs runat tleCILy; 

Her ineen~~e fire11 shall ceiU'e to born; 

But etill her grand an

l'CIJI:IIa 01' BJILlGlOtr. 

And oft'er'd to the llightiest solemn thanks 

And aupplicatioo. For hia aimple beut 

Might not resiat tbe llMr8d inBnencea 

Which, from the stilly tw~~t or the place, 

And from the gmy old tr that high in heaven 

Mingled their mouy boughs, and from the sound 

Or the innaable breatll that IWa.y'd at OUCG 

All their green tope, stole over him, a.od bow'd 

Hie spirit with the thought of boundltlss power 

And mnccessible majesty. Ab! why 

Should we in the worlil's riper years neglect 

God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 

Only among the crowd, aud under roof's 

That our frail hands lmvt.> raised 1 Let me, at le!IJ!t, 

Here in the ahadow of this aged wood, 

Oft'er one hymn-thrice happy, if it find 

Acceptance in His ear. 

Father! thy hand 

Hath rear'd these venerable columna, thou. 

Didst weAve thill verdant roQf. Thou didst look down 

Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 

All these fair rank.& or trees. They in the san 

Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 

And shot towards hea.vf,!n. The century-living crow, 

Whose birth was on their tope, grew old and dled 

Among their brn.uchea, till, a.t lastt.tbey stood, 

As now thl,!ystand. massy, n.nd tuu, and dark, 

Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 

Communiou with his Maker. These dim vaults, 

These will! ling aisles, of human pomp or pride 

Report not. No fn.utastic c.uvings show 

The boast of our vain race to change the form 

Of thy fair works. But thou art here-thou fill'st 

The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 

That ron along the summit of these trees 

In music; thou art in the cooler breath 

That !rom the inmost darklle1111 of the place 

Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trunk.&, the ground, 

The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 

Here is continual worship ; nature here, 

In the tranquillity that \hou dost love 1 

Enjoys thy presence. Noiselesaly, around, 

Fro~ perch to perch, the solit.t.ry bird 

Passes,; and yon clear spring, that, 'midst ita herbs, 

W ella softly forth, a.nd wandering ateepe the roota

or half the mighty rol'lltlt, teU. no tale 

Of all the good it does. Thou but oot len 

Th,-.el£ without a witoeaa, in theae ahadee, 

Or thy perfections. Grandeur, etri!ogth, aod gn.ce 

Are here to 'P4'ak of Thee. Tbie mighty 01\k- 

By wboee immovable atem I etand, aod aeem 

A.lmoet annihilAted-not a. prince, 

In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 

E'er wore hia crown u loftily M he 

Wean \be green coronal of leaves with which 

Thy hand hath graced him. Neetled at his root 

Is beauty, auch as blooms not In tho glare 

or the broa.d IUU. That delica.te forest ftower, 

With scented breath, t.Dd look .a like a smile, 

Seema, u it iasnes from the ebapelell mould, 

A.J1 emanation from the indweUang Lifo, 

A visible token oftbe upholding Lon, 

That are the eoul of thill wide uoivente. 

My heart ia awed within me when I think 

or the great miracle that atill goes on, 

In ailence, round me--the perpetual work 

or tby creation, fiuiah'dl yet renew'd 

For ever. Written on tlly worka I read 

The leaaon orthine own eternity. 

Lo I aU grow old an(! die--but see again, 

How on the faltering footatepa of decay 

Youth presses-ever gay an,\ bel\utiful youth, 

In all ita beautiful forms. The11e lofty tree~~ 

Wave not less proudly th&t their aneeatore 

Monlder beneath them. Oh. there ia not loet 

One of earth's cbnrma: upou her bosom yet, 

After the ftight of untold ceut.l.lfiet, 

The freshna. o£ her fAr beginning lieta, 

And yet ab.ulllie. Life moclu tbe \dle bate 

Of hia arch enemy, Death-yea., he aeata bhmel£ 

Upon the tyrant's throne--t.he Hpulcb~, 

And of tbe triumphs of hi• ghutly foe 

Hakea his own nourishmen t. For b_, came_ ... 

From thine own bosom, aD'\ absll ban no -. 

Tbere have heen holy men who bid tb~ne 

Deep in tbe woody w ilderr:-. aud p •e . 

Tbeir lina to tboogb~ 1n1d prayer, ~iU ~ fllltll"¥..C. 

The gentra~on bon1 with tbew, oor ..-wd

300 PO~ OP 'llBLlOIOir. 

Lea aged than the hOAry treee and roo let 

Aroun•l tbem ;-and the~ ba•e been holy men 

Who deem'd it. were not. well to put life tbua. 

But let me ol\en to these eolitadet 

"R&tin, and in thy presence rello88U~ 

My feeble Yirtue. .l:lere it.a eoemi&a, 

The p1U18ion"' at thy plainer foot.atepe ahrink. 

And tremble And ure still. Oh, Gotll when thoa 

Dost IIC&re the world with tempeats, at!t on fire 

The heavens with fl\lliog thunderbolt&, or fill 

With All the watera of the lit"IIItunent, 

The swift dar\ whil"lwinJ that. uproots the wooda 

And drowns tht! villages; wheu, at thy call, 

Upriaea the great deep and throw11 himaelt 

Upon the coutioent, ancl overwhelms 

I'- citiea-who forget.a not, &t the eight 

Of the11e tremendous tobn.a of thy power, 

Bie pride, aud laya his strifes and folliee by t 

Oh, from these sterner upecta of thy race 

BP"~ me and mine, nor let u11 need the wrath 

Of the mad unchaco'd elemeot.a to te~W:h 

Who rules them. Be it oure to meditAte, 

In these CAlm ah.a.des, thy milder mlljt>ety, 

And to the beautiful order of thy work.& 

Learn to conform the order of our Uvu. 

NOT in the eolitnde 

Alone ma.y mao commune with Heaven, or aee 

Only io 81\vage wood 

And annoy vale, the present Deity ; 

Or only hear Bia voice 

Where the winda whisper and the wavee rejoice. 

Even here do I behold 

Thy atepe. Almighty !-here, amidst the crowd, 

Through the gn-at city roll'd, 

With everlutiog murmur deep and loud 

Choking the wa)'ll that wind 

'Hongat the proud pilee 1 the "Work of bnman kind.

301 

Thy golden aoDBbiDe comea 

From the rooud ht>aven, and on their dwelli.Dgi lies. 

And ligbta tbP.ir inner bomea; 

For t.htm thou fill'IJt with air the UDbounded ski.ea, 

And gi vest them the stores 

Of ocean, and the bar vesta of ita abo rea. 

Thy spirit is around, 

Quickening the reatleas mass that a weeps along; 

.And this eternal sound- 

Voices and footf,.lls of the numberleas thron& 

Lilce the resounding ee&, 

Or, like the rainy tempest, speaks of Thee. 

And when the hours of rest 

Come, like a calm upon the mid~ brine, 

Buahing ita billowy breast-- 

The quiet of that moment too ia thine; 

It breathes of Him who keeps 

Thr vast and helpleaa city while it sleeps. 

BaT .&.NT. 

FaoK Greenland's icy moouWD.s, 

From India's coral slran~ 

Where Afaio'e auuny (ouDtaina 

Boll down their ~oltlen sand: 

From many an anment river, 

From many a palmy plain, 

Tbey call us to deliver 

Their lAnd from Error's chain I 

What though the spicy breezes 

Blow eoCL on Ceylon's isle, 

ibongb every prospect pleases, 

And only man ill vile; 

In vain with laviab kindne1111, 

The gift~ of God are atrown, 

The Beatben, in hia blinrln888, 

Bows down to wood and stone I

Can we who11e 10t1la are lig~ 

With wi.adlom from on hi~ 

Ca.n we to man benighted 

The la.mp 10{ life deny I 

Salvation ! o.h, &ln.tion l 

The joyful sound proclaim, 

Till ea.rth's remotest nation 

H.u lea.rn''d Mesaiah'e IWlle I 

cfrtsm tht Jpm D1l tg.e Ja.tihiti. 

Btrt peaceml Wft.!l the night, 

Whenin the Prince of Light 

His reign of pEtace upon the earth began: 

The winds with •wonder whist, 

Smoothly the watera kiM'd, 

Whispering uew joye to the mild oee&n, 

Who now hath quite forgot to rave, 

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. 

The ahepberds on tbe lawn, 

Or ere the point of dawn, 

Sat simply cba.ttiog in a rustic row; 

Full little thought they then, 

That the mighty Pan 

Was kindly come to live with them below; 

Perhaps their lo"ee or else their sheep 

Waa all that did their silly thought.a so busy keep. 

When such muei·c sweet 

Their hearts and ear$ did greet, 

Aa never waa lby mortar .finger .11trook; 

Divinely warbled voice 

.Answering the sttringed noiae 

As all their sotuls in blissfu{ rapture took; 

The air, suchple&Snre loath to lose, 

With thoUSAnd ecboe;; still prolongs each he&venly cloee. 

Such music (aa 'tia aaid) 

13efcre was neve1~ made, 

13ut when of olld the sona of morning 8Ullg, 

While the Ureatr great 

His constellations set, 

And the well-halanced world on hinges hung, 

.And cast the dark foundatioue deep, 

.And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep-

l'OKKS 01' Jl.&lQIOlf, 

Ring out, ye cryatalepbezoea, 

Once blese our human ea.n, 

Ifye have power to toueb ou ~ 10, 

And let your silver chime 

Move in melodioae time; 

And let the bue of Henven'a deep organ blow; 

And, with your ninefold ba.rm.ony, 

Make up full con10rt to the angelic eymplaonJ. 

For, if auoh holy song 

Enwrap our f~aey long, 

Time will run back 1 

and fetch the age of gold ; 

And speckled Vanity 

Will a•eken soon aild die, 

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly m.ollld; 

And Bell itaelfwill p&B8 away, 

And leave her doloroue mansions to the peering day. 

Y~a, Tr-uth &lid Justice then 

Will down retum to men, 

Orb'd in a t"ainbow; aud, like glories weariJJg, 

Mercy willlrit between, 

Throned in celestial sheen, 

With radiant feet the tissoed clouds do'lnlskering; 

And Heaven, as t~.t t~ome festival, 

Will open wide the gates of her high pelAce hall • 

.M.wrolt. 

Jtarl af «htisf, 49 «;np J[bet 6albta I 

HuRT or Christ, 0 cup moat golden I 

Brimming .nth aalvation'a wine, 

Million 10ufs have been beholden 

Unto thee for life divine; 

Thou art full of blood the )>W'Mt. 

Love the tendereat and sureet : 

Blood ia life, and life is love; 

Ob, wbt wine is there like love I 

Heart of Ohriat, 0 cup moat goldeo I 

Out of thee the martyr)~ drllllk, 

Who for truth in cities oldeo 

Spake, nor from the tortureshranlc; 

Saved they were from traitor's mea.nneea, 

Fill'd with joys of holy keenne•: 

Strong are those that drink of of love; 

Ob, what wine is there like loYe J

J,'OEM!I OJ' ll.ltLlGlO).{, 

Heart of Christ, 0 cup most gulden I 

To remotest place a.Dd time 

Thou for labours wilt em holden 

Unpre~uming but enblime: 

Hearts a re firm, thougL nt>rvee be shaken, 

When f'rom thee new life ie taken: 

Truth recruitS itself by !on; 

Oh, what wine is there like love t 

Heart of Christ, 0 cup moat golden J 

Tak"ing of thy cordial blest, 

Soon the sorrowful a.re folden 

In a gentle healthfu I rest: 

Thou anxieties art easing, 

Pains implacable 11ppeaeing: 

Grief is comforted by love; 

Oh, what wine is thel'e like lovil l 

Hea1t of Christ, 0 cup most golden, 

Liberty from thee we win; 

We who drink, no more are holden 

By the shameful cords of sin; 

Pledge of Mercy's sure forgivi:Qg, 

Power& for a holy living,- 

Tbese, thou cup of love, are thine ; 

Love, thou art the mightieat wine I 

Lnau. 

UP to tbe throne of God ia borne 

The voice of praise at early morn, 

And he accept& the punctual hymn 

Sung u the light of day grows dim. 

Nor will he turn his ear uide 

From holy offerings at noontide. 

Then here reposing let ua rnise 

A song of gratitude and praise. 

What though our burthen be not light, 

We need not toil from morn to night; 

The respite of the mid-day hour 

Is in the th.o.nkful C:reatnre'e power.

PO.E:KS 01' BZLIOlO!f, 

305 

Blest are the moments, doubly bleet, 

That, drawn from thw one hour of reet. 

Are with a ready heart beatow'd 

Upon the service of our God I 

Each field is then a b&llow'd epot. 

All alt.ar is in each ma.n'e cot, 

A church in every grove that apreada 

Ita livillg roof above our heada. 

Look up to Heaven I the induatriou1 Sun 

Already half his raoe hath run ; 

He cannot halt nor go astray, 

Bnt our immortal Spirit& may. 

Lord I ainee biB riaing in the Eut, 

If we have falter'd or tr&Digrut'd, 

Guide, Crom thy love's abUDdaut eouree, 

What. yet rema.io.e of t.hia day's course; 

Help with thy grace, tllrough li!e'a abort day, 

Our upward aud our downward way ; 

And glorify for us the weat, 

When we shall 11ink to final rest. 

WORDSWORTD. 

~l ebtr-Jmt. 

"ror of H im. llD4 throllcb Bltn. &114 to Him an all tlllncl. to wbom be lloi'Y 

ror .. .,:·-P.oVJ- 

Aoon, below, in aky and eod 

In lea.£ .nd apa.r, in star and man, 

Well might the aage Athenian ICI.ll 

The geometric eigne or God, 

The measured ordei· or His plan. 

And India's mystiea •ng &right 

Ot the One We pervading all, 

One Being'a tidal riae and fi1ll 

In soul and form, in sound a.nd •lgbt, 

Eternal outflow and recall. 

Ood ia : and man in guilt and fea.r 

The central fact of nature owna ; 

Kueela, trembling, by hia altor-etonoa, 

And darkly dreama the guilty tmear 

or blood appeases and &.tonee. 

X

f'OSIB OW llCJ910'11. 

Guilt ahmpee the tetTOr : deep withw 

The human heart tile IOCII'et liee 

or all tha hideoua deitiee ; 

And, painted on a ground of ain, 

Tha fabled goda of torment riae I 

And what ia HE 1 The ripe grAin nods, 

The eo~ dews fall, the aweet flowers 'blow, 

But darker signa Ria prseenca abow ; 

The earthquake !'flO the 11l.nY'm IU"'A God.'e, 

And good and evil iAt.rfiow. 

Oh, hearts ortove! Oht soula that tum 

Like aun-ftowers to t.be \lure and beat I 

To you the truth ia manifeat.; 

For they the mind of Chriat diaoern, 

Who lean lib John upon bia breast I 

In him o! whom the Sibyl told, 

For whom the prophet'• hup was toned, 

Whose need the aage and :magian own'd, 

The loving heart of God behold, 

The hope for which the agea groan'd! 

Fade pomp of dreadful imagery, 

Wherewith mankind have deified 

Their hate, and ael.fiabnelll, and pride I 

Let the scared dreamer wake to aee 

The Christ of Nazareth at hia side I 

What doth that holy guide require ? 

No rite of p&.in, nor gill. of blood, 

But, man, a ltindly brotherhood, 

Looking, where duty ia deaire, 

T o Him, the beautiful and good. 

Gone be the faithleuneaa of fear ; 

And let the pitying beaTen's eweet rain 

W Mh out the altar'• hloodyatain, 

The law of Hatred disappear, 

The la.w of Love alone remain. 

Now fAll the idols faae and gTim I 

And lo I their hideous wreck above, 

The emblems of the Lamb and Dove! 

Man turns from God, not God from him, 

ADd guilt, in auJrerug, whispera Love 1

POJUlB OJ' IUU.IOIO!I. 

307 

l 'he world aita at the feet of Ohriat 

Unk.uowiug, blind, and unc:on.soled; 

It yet shall touch His gannent'a fold, 

And feel tbe heavenly AJchemiat 

Transform ita very duat to gold. 

The theme bent~ angel tongue• 

Beyond a mor1Ale aco~ hu grown. 

Oh, heart of mine I w1th reYereuce OWil 

The fulnea.s whloh to it belonga, 

And tTWit the unknown for the known! 

WBltTll!.R. 

Jaunt. of l:mat. 

0 Lo:ao Divine! that atoop'd to abare 

Our sharpest pang, our bittereat tear, 

On thee we cut ench earth-born care, 

We smile at pain while Thou art near. 

Though long the weruy wny we t11ead, 

And sorrow CI'OWD each lingering year; 

No path we ahun, no da.ri:neaa dread, 

Our h11nrts still whispering, Thou art near! 

When droopio~ pleasure turns to grie~ 

And tremblmg fl\itb is changed to fear, 

The murmlll'iug wind, the quivering leaf, 

Shall softly tell ua, Thou art near ! 

On Thee we Jling our burdening woe, 

0 Love Divine! for ever dear, 

Oonteut to suffer, while we know, 

LiYiog aud dying, Thou art ne,ar I 

!ubi.tt. 

Hol.Klt3. 

Goo does not need 

Either man's wo1·k, or hie own gifta: who beat 

Bear hia mild yoke, they aerve him beat. Ria ltate 

18 kingly ; thoaaan

308 POZKS OJ' BJILlOIOJr, 

I UT to thee, do thou repeat 

To the first man thou ma.yeat meot 

In lane, high~ay, or open etreet- 

That he, and we, and all men, move 

Under a canopy of love, 

Aa broad ae the blue sky above ; 

That doubt and trouble, fear and pain 

And anguish, all are ahadowe T&in, 

That death itself shall not remain; 

That weary desert& we may tread, 

A dreary labyrinth may thread, 

Through dark ways underground be led ; 

Yet, it we will One Guide obey, 

The dreariest path, the darkeat way 

ShAll i.uae out in heavenly day; 

And we, on divers shores now cut, 

Shall meet, our perilous voyage paat, 

All in our Father's houee at last. 

And ere thou leave him, say thou this 

Yet one word more-they only mlea 

The winning of that tiDAl bli-, 

Who will not eou.nt it true, that Love, 

Blessing, not cursing, rules aboYe, 

.And that in it we live and move • 

.And one thing further make him know, 

That to believe these things are ao, 

This firm faith never to forego, 

Despite of &11 that seems at atrife 

With bleaaing, aU with curaea rife, 

That thil u bleaeillg, this u life. 

Tan en.

P:lt..'XS o.r RELIOION, 309 

" Tbe clq IJ tblne, tile nlcM olio 11 lh!Do : thou hut P"PArecl the Usht an

310 POlnlll OJ' IIXLIGION, 

Then shall all ehacldee fall ; the stormy clangour 

or wilri Wl\r-musie o'er the el\rlh lhl\U ce&IHI ; 

LoYe shall tread out the baleful fire of anger, 

And in itll ubes plant the tree ofpoaee! 

Wftl'TID. 

l. 

Tmc secret heart 

Ie fair DeYotion'e temple; there the Bllint, 

E'en on that living Altar, lights the 11ame 

Of purest sacrifice, which bu11111 unseen. 

Not unaccepted. 

ILuorAB Moa&. 

n. 

To inward sighs of humble penitence 

Ri.ee to the ear of Heaven, when pealM hymns 

Are ecatter'd with the sounds at common air. 

JourtrA BAJ'LLI&. 

llanthrg !Jt&otimt. 

WHD lint thy eyee unveil, give thy soul leave 

To do the like ; our bodies but forerun 

The spirit's duty : true hearte apread and heave 

Unto their God u !owen do to the sun ; 

Give Him thy fint thoughts then, 10 ebAlt thou keep 

Him company all day, and in. Him aleep. 

V.&UGIUN. 

ftain anb frauu at «:wu of ~~~· 

To Thee, our Creator, our homage we bring, 

With deep adoration Thy praisee we sing; 

To Thee, our good Father, all loving and wiae 1 

With e&rllest devotion our pra.yers would arise. 

0 Father of Mercy ! be with us to-night, 

That our souls may be gle.dden'd and glow in thy light : 

ln life and in death may our tru.st be in Thee, 

Till .the atrea.m of Time merge in Eternity's ae"a. 

HBOJI.TJI!L

. 

POJ!lfot8 o-, ltZUGIOlf. 

3U 

5lmt~ Ire tw ~ll'IIU 

f11t '&~ 

BLB88l!.D be thy D&m& for ever, 

Thou of life the guard and giver I 

Thou caust gullol'd thy orea.turea-aleepi.ng, 

Heal the heart long broke with wee~. 

God of stillness and of motion, 

or the desert and the ocean, 

Of the mountain, rock. and river, 

Blessed be thy name for everJ 

Thou who slumbereat·not nor aleepeet, 

Blest are they thou kindly keepee~ 

God of nening 1 s ·pa.rting ra.y, 

Of midnight's gloom, and dawning day, 

That rises from the alml'9 aea, 

Like breathin.ga of eternity. 

God of life I that fade shall newer, 

Blessed be thy name for ever I 

HoOG. 

W RERB will they stop, thoee breathing Po wen~, 

Tbe Spirita of the•new·born fiowen I 

They wander with the breeze, they wind 

Where'er tbe stte~UQ.B a passage find ; 

Up from their native IP'ound they rise 

In mute aerial barmon1ea; 

From humble violet-modest thyme 

Exhaled, the essential odours climb, 

Ae if no space below the sky 

Their subtle flight could satisfy: 

Hsaven will not tax our tboughta with pride 

If like ambition be their guide. 

Roused by thia 'kindlieat of May-ehowen, 

The spirit-quiokener of the fiowen, 

That with moist viitue softly cleaves 

The bude, and freshens the youn~ leaves, 

The hirda -pour forth their aoula JD notee 

Of raptore from a·thouaand throate-

au 

roJal.!l or ..uoro!f. 

Here chec&'d by too impet.uoua hute, 

Wbile there the muaie rana to ~te, 

With bounty more and more enlarged, 

Till the whole air ia overcharged ; 

Gin ear, 0 Man I to their appeal, 

And thint for no inferior seal, 

Thou, who e&D8t tllinl:, AI weli u feet 

'Mount from the earth; upire I upire I 

So pleada the town's Cl\t.bedr&l quiNI 1 

lA etraina thAt from their eolemn he1ght 

Sink, to attain a loftier ffight; 

Wbile incenee from the altar breatbta 

Rich fragrance in embodied wreaths; 

Or, 1lung from awinging eelll6r, ehrouda 

Tbe taper-Hghte, and carla in clouda 

Around angelic Forma, the .till 

Creation of the painter'• alcilJ, 

That on the service wait conceal'd 

One moment, and the next reveal'd. 

-cast off your bonda, awake, arlee, 

And for no tra.naient eeetaaieal 

Wbl\t elee cau me&U the vitu&l plea 

Of still or moving imagery- 

The iterated 11nmmoneloud, 

Not wuted on the attendant crowd, 

Nor wholly loet upon the throng 

Hurrying the busy etreeta along 1 

Alu I the ea.nctitiee combined 

By art to uneenau!Lliae tht mind, 

Decay and languish; or, AI creede 

And humoun change, are epurn'd like weerte: 

The pri1111te are (rom their a.ltare t.hruat; 

Temple• are le..-ell'd with the d111t; 

And eolemo rites and awful forme 

Founder amid fanatic .tonne. 

Yet evermore, thron~h yean reoew'd 

In undilturb'd viciu1tude 

or 18U01la balancing their 1llgh' 

On the ewi~ wings or day and night, 

Kind Nature keepe a hea~enly door 

Wide open for the ecatter'd Poor. 

Where ftowez-.breathed incense to the W f!t 

Ia ~ in mute ha.rmouiea;

PODS OJ' RBLlOJON. 

31:) 

And ground fresh-cloven by the plough 

Is fragrant with a humbler vow; 

Where birds and brooks from leafy dells 

Chime forth unwearied canticles, 

And vapours magnift and spread 

The glory of the 8lln s bright head 

Still constant in her worship, still 

Conforming to the etarnal Will, 

Whether men sow or reap the fields, 

Divine monition Nature yields, 

That not by bread alone 'ive live, 

Or what a hand of fiesh can give; 

That every day should leave some part 

Free for & s&bbath of the heart : 

So shall the seventh be truly blest, 

From morn to eve, with h:illow'd rest. 

W OB.DBWORTB. 

'~~ l{insfu. 

THE Minster is a marble psalm, 

Where Druid oak and Syrian palm 

Lift the grain'd roof, and seem to wave 

O'er &isle and chancel, crypt and grave. 

The church of God in man below 

Methinks should like the minster grow; 

All Truths H is threefold voice inspires 

Should build ita buttresses and spire& ; 

Each holy deed that memory sings 

Should gleam with cherub face and wings 

O'er the high altar's mystic shrine, 

And love make all the place divine. 

HARRIS. 

~~ tJJ t~t Jol!! ~pirit. 

IlJ the hour of my distress, 

Wbt)n temptations me oppress, 

And when I my sins confeas, 

Sweet Spirit comfort me I 

When I lie withlu my bed, 

Sick in heart, and sic"k in head, 

A.nd with doubts diBCOmforted, 

Sweet Spirit comfort me I

POI':K$ O:r Ba.tGIOl'. 

When the houee doth eigh nnd weep, 

And tbe world is drown'd iu sleep, 

Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, 

Sweet Spirit comfort me 1 

When, God knowtl, rm toet about, 

Either wit.b despair or doubt; 

Yet, before the glaee be out 1 

Sweet Splrit comfort me I 

'When the priest his laet hath pray'd, 

And I nod to wbft.t is said 

'Cause my sp~ech is now decny'd, 

Sweet Spirit comfol't me I 

When the jud~ent ia reveal'd, 

And that open d which was seal'd .; 

When ·to Thee I have appeal'd, 

Sweet Spirit comfort me I 

Ho;arc:E. 

- "TBOU, 0 8plrtt! l~.t dOlt prell>r 

llefo-re llll teRipleo, tbe aprtant heart an1! pu~ 

tnatruat me. tor tbou knDWHt. • • • • • _.., 

WIIU In mel& 4111'k lu.IJli.III&." 

MIJ.ro•. 

WWlN doubts tormen't, 11nd fears assail. and all our path 

is ds.rk as night_, 

Witho11t a single star to cheer-Hear our prayer, 0 God, 

for Ligbtt 

\\'hen in earnest searcn of truth-triviag still to g&in 

the right, 

We stumble blindlf on our way,-0 Gd of wisdom, grant 

more Light 

When weak and weary, sorrow laden,--cast around thy 

arm of might I · 

When we fail t o troce, or trust Thee,-Heavenly Father, 

Light, more Light! 

\Vben those whom we love the deA'rellt, fade from before 

our failing light, 

k. the shadow of Deat.h'e presence, gl'&CiollS God, be Thou 

· our Light! SuoaTD.

PODS 01' RBIJGtOlf. 

31ft 

F .ATBBil of light and life ! thou Good Suptente I 

0 teach me what Ia good I teach me thyaelrt 

Save me from folly, vanity, and vice! 

From every low pursuit'! and feed my soul 

With know1edge 1 conscious peace, a.'nd virtue pure, 

Sacred, subetantJal, never-fading bllaa! 

TnoMI!ox. 

UNLESS Thou ebew to ue Thine own true WfA1 1 

No IDAI1 can find it; F11.ther I Thou must lead. 

Do Thou, then, breathe thoee thonghta into 1J11 min•l, 

~1 which ench virt'11118 may in me be bred, 

That in Thy holy footetepe I may head. 

Tmml,ated by S. Word110orth.-MtcruBt. Al'IGBLO, 

I B.AVB seen 

A crorioue child, who dwelt upon a tract 

or inland ground, applying to hill ear 

The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell ; 

To which, in silence hueh'd, hill very soul 

Listen'd intensely; and hie countenance soon 

Brigbten'd with joy; for from within were hear

316 l'

POlUlS OJ' 'IIJI:LlOlOII'. 

Ob, who would bear life'" stormy doom, 

Did not thy Wing of Love 

Come, brightly wafting through the gloom, 

One Peace-branch from abo•e t 

Then sorrow, toucb'd by Thee, gro11r11 bright 

With more th11n rapture'• ray; 

Aa d&rkneu ahowe ue worlda of light 

We never anw by day I 

Moou. 

lkt Dnl!l abcqzrait iu~orl fat tbc (alnlifut af JiCt. 

On adequate Rpport 

For the eala.mitiu of mortal life 

Exiate-one only ; &n uaured belief 

That the proce88ion of our fate, howe'u 

Sad or dieturb'd, ie order'd by a Being 

or infinite bennolenee and power. 

Whoae everlasting purposes embraee 

All accidents, converting them to good. 

The darta ofanguiabfi.r not where the ~eat 

Ofenlf'ering hath been thoroughly fortified 

By acquiescence in the Will supreme 

For time and for eternity ; by faith, 

Faith absolute in God, including hope, 

And the defenoe that ties in boundleaalove 

Of hie pe1-fectiona; with habitual dread 

Of an~bt unworthily conoei•ed, endured 

Impatiently, ill done, or left undone, 

To the dishonour of hie holy JWDe. 

Soul of our eoula, and aafeguard of the world f 

Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of hea.rt; 

Restore t.heir languid apirita, a..ud reeall 

Their loet aft"eotione unto thee a..ud thine I 

WOBDIIWO:aTH. 

317 

Sn.u: low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet 

From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low, 

Lest I should feal' and fal1 1 a..ud miea thee eo, 

Who art not mlee'd by nny that entreat.

318 POEXS OP RELIOION. 

Speak to me ae to Mary at thy feet.- 

.A.nd if no precioua r.na my bAnda beetow, 

Let my tea.n drop ltke amber, wb.ik I 1u 

In reach of thy div\neet voice complete 

1u humantWt t.il'ection. Thu•, in 80oth 

To loae the aenae of loeing I Aa a chUd, 

Wh011e aon~-birJ aeek:a the wood for evermnN>, 

Ia aun~ to tn it. ateud by mother'a month 

Till, ainktng on her breaat, lov&-recuncUeJ, 

He aleepa the faat.er th.t.t he wept before. 

E. B. Baowlfll(G. 

«onADlai.Ullt. 

0 W1t.BY heart, opp~'d with care, 

And pain, &nd grief, &nd bitter woe ! 

Inly perpl11x'd, nor seeing where 

Tlly coune doth tend 'mid onward 6ow 

Of ceaeeleu time ; presaging ill : 

Huah &11 tby griet'a I &nd le~ the e&lm 

From h&Avenly aphe.rea thy boeom WI, 

.And &II thy 110ul, like holy paalm 

To God a1100nd I Yea I like the choir 

Of aerapha that before h.ia th.t-one 

Siog evermore. Let apirit-fire 

Purge all thy droaa; and every lone 

From angel-harps thy beillg thrill 

Reeponaive, till all discord& oeaee: 

Through blinding mrs, Ood'a purpoae will 

Unrold ita love, and whiaper-Puaa.. 

8BO&TJ!.R. 

;Jines forittm bt 1!lilioa in ~i• f.)lb ~gt. 

I AM old and blind ! 

M.en point at me as IJIDitt.en by Ood'e frown 

AfBicted and deserted of my mind- 

Yet am I not out down.

POBKS o-. RELlOlON. 

319 

I am weak, yet strong- 

! murmur not that I no lon~1· ee._ 

Poor, old, and helpleM, I the more beloag, 

Father Supreme! to thee. 

Ob, merciful One! 

When men are farthest then Tuou ar' moat ne&r ; 

When friends pa.es by, JIIY weaknesa ah11n, 

Tar chariot I hear. 

Thy glorious face 

Ia leaning towards me-and ita holy light 

Shiuea iu upon my lonely dwelling-place, 

And there is no more night. 

On my bended knee 

I recognise thy purp

320 

lOlliKII OJ' BE'LIGIO!f, 

Give me now my lynl 

1 feel the stirriogw of a gift divine : 

Within my bosom glows unearthly 1ire, 

Lit by no skill of mine. 

~~~tin ~aduuu. 

Ta& stormy winds raved loud, and vex'd 

The chafing waters' troubled breast 

When lo I the voice of Mercy spake, 

And sootb'd the rutlled waves to real 

S..t.VlOtTR I when thy -eoor wAyward child 

Droops faithlealy midst doubt or ill, 

Thy voice shall ealm the inward etrife, 

And bid her aching heart "Be still'' 

LADY FLoRA. ll.&.mNGa. 

l}ro;ibtrut, 

[. 

HBAVEN notes the sigh aftlicted goodness heaves, 

llears the low plaint by human ear uneared, 

And from t he cheek of patient sorrow wipea 

The tear, by mortal eye unseen, or ecorn'd . 

.ILurNAR Mou 

u. 

Wuu urged by strong temptation to the briuk 

Of ~t and ruin, stands the virtuous mind, 

With ae&rce a step between : aU-pitying Heaven, 

Severe in mercy, chaetening in its love, 

Of\tilnes, in dark nnd awful Ti.aitation, 

Doth interpose, and le&d the wanderer back 

To the 11traight path, to be for ever Ai\er 

A firm, undaunted, onward-bearing traveller, 

Strong in humility, who swerves no more. 

JOA.NNA BAILLIE. 

..

POZMB OP ll:m.10101f. 

Bm~oLtl an emblem of our human mind 

Crowded with thoughts that need a aetUed home, 

Yet, like to edd~g balla of foam 

Within tbia whirlpool, they aa.oh other chua 

Round and rotmd, and neither find 

An outlet. nor a restin~-plaoe l 

Stranger 1 

if such diaqutetude be thine, 

F&ll on thy knees and aue for help divine. 

W Oli.D8WORTU. 

As men from men 

Do, in the constitution of their eoW., 

Dift'er, by mystery not to be explain'd; 

And ae we f&ll by various ways, and ai.nk 

One deeper than another, eelf-eondemn'd, 

Through manifold degrees of guilt and ahAme; 

So manifold and various are the w11ys 

Of reatora.tion, f11ehion'd to the atepe 

Of aU infirmity, and tending all 

To the same point, attainable br all 

Pe&ee in ounelvea and union w1Ut our God. 

Woaoswo:aTa. 

'' ~le11eb ar.c t~ Jlt.rc:ifztl" 

-MB&caOL God I 

And we, thy ening creatures, due refu.ae 

Pardon to a eon trite, en ing brother I 

Wei-poor debtors to Thy gracious bounty 

Who owe to Tbeethe common pririlege 

or dlilly life-the varied joys of senae--- 

Tbe ricllea, aud the fair delights of earth, 

ADd air, and aky, and the all·gladd'ning ann, 

ADd the rich gifta of mind and heart ;-and more, 

The firm aaaurance of the life to come, 

ADd the ~ood newa of pardon, 'peace, and love, 

Proclaim a of ~race to All, by Thy dear Soo. 

T 

-

Itt 

POSil& OJ' BJ:LlOtOJI. 

Toueh'd with divine compuaion, 0 may •• 

Be merciful !-far we pray for mercy. 

0 may we grow in ever widening love, 

Our llear~'a deep qmpathy emhraciag all, 

E'en u the circling ooean of Thy love I 

A.ud u Thou fill'at the ..... OI'M 'lfi~ wonss ot'j~ 

From inaeot and angel, bird 'Aild ~etapht 

0 make moat muaical our IIOUls, ~at we, 

In aweet aoeord, may minor forth the~~ 

And joy, and typal ha.rmoniM of Hea. v n. 

- SacmTE&. 

To dew ia on the ~mmer'a greent!!lt grus, 

Through which the mod .. t .da.l.ay blaahing peeps i 

The gentle wind that like a gb.OIIt.doth -paaa, 

A waving ehadow on the cornfield lteepa; 

But I, who love them &U, ahall never be 

Again ·among the woods, or on ithe moor.Jand 'lea.·! 

The aun ahinee aweetly-'fi'Weeter ma-y it ahine 1- 

Bl8118'd ia the br\ghtneas of a aummer day; 

Jt cheers lone hearts ; and why should I .repine, 

Although among green fielde r cannot stray 1 

Woods! I have grown, since last r heard you WAVe, 

Familiar with dea.th, and neighbour to the grave t 

These words have shaken mighty human soul.a- 

Like 11. sepulchre'• echo drear they aonnd 

E'en u the owl'• wild whoop at midnight rolla 

The ivied remnants of old ruina round. 

Yet wherefore tremble I Ca.n·tbe aoul·decsy't- 

Or that which thinks 'And feels in aught e'er tade away t 

Are there not upirations in eaeh hesrt 

After a b11tt.er, brighter world than tllis f 

Longings for beings nobler in eaeb part- 

Things more eulted-ateep'd in aaeper bliss.f 

Who gave ue thMe t What are they t Soul, in thee 

The bud ie budding now !or immortality I 

~C Ia "'PPOMd to ba~ bee Ul.e Jut, or amour ~ latt, or :!Ooolta

P0JD(8 07 JI.BLIOlOK. 

Death comes to take me where I long to be : 

One pang, 1\nd bright blooma the immortal !ower ; 

Death comea to lead me from mortality, 

To Wide which know not one unhappy hour: 

I hne ~ hope, a faith ;-from aonow here 

I'm led by Deat.h away-why ahould I atar.t and fear I 

If I have loved the forest and the field, 

C,.n I not love .them deeper, better, t.here 1 

It aU th~t Power hath ma.de, to 1M doth yleld 

Bomethiui of good and beauty-.omel.hing fait·- 

Freed from the grossneae of mortality, · 

Mo.y I not love them &11, and better all enjoy t 

A. change from WQ8 to jo7.-lrom earth to heaven, 

Death gives me thi.a-tt leads we calmly whero 

'l'be eonla that long ago from mine were ri-ven 

May meet again I Death aJJewers many & prayer. 

Bright day! shine on-be glad :-Daye brighter far 

. Are etretch'd before my eyea than tboee or mortal• are! 

llloou.. 

Tue then, 0 Death I and bear away 

Whatever thou canet c&1l thine own ; 

Thine im~e, etamp'd upon thia d-ay, 

Doth give thee that-but t.hat alone I 

Take them, 0 Gmve I and let them lie 

}'olded, upon thy narrow ebelvea, 

A.a garments by the soul la.id bJ, 

.And precious ouly to ounel-veel 

Take them, 0 great Eternity I 

Our lltt.le life is but a guat, 

That benda the branches of thy tree, 

A.ud tnila ita bl088oma in t.li.e dust. 

Lo•oJ'&LLOW.

POli1118 OJ' JUa.lGtOlf. 

t:~e Jcfud uf tkt lnJt. 

DBAR, be&uteoua death-the jewel of the jWit- 

Shining nowhere but in the dark ! . 

What myateriea do lie beyond thy duat, 

Could man outlook that mark! 

He that bath found some ftedgecl bird'e nest may know, 

At fint ai~ht, if the bird be 1lown ; 

But what fau.r dell or gro"Ve he einga in now, 

That ia to him unk:Down. 

And yet, aa angels, in some brighter dreama, 

Call to the soul when man dot.h sleep ; 

So aome atrangethoughta tran.acend our wonted themes,. 

And into glory peep. 

Fatl1erl disperse, the miata which blot and iill 

My perspective still aa they paaa ; 

Or else remove me hence unto that hill 

Where I eball need no glaaa. 

How many bl8118ed groupe thie hour are bending, 

Through England's primroee meadow-path"' their w~y 

Towa.rcla spire and tower, midst abady alma MCending, 

Whence tlie sweet chimes proclaim the ballow'd day 1 

The halls, from old heroic ages gray, 

Pour their fair children forth ; and hamlete low 

Send out their inmates in a happy 1low, 

Like a freed vernal stream. I may.not trend 

With them those pathways-to the feverish bed 

Of sioknees bound ; yet, 0 my God I I blees 

Thy mercy, tn.at with Sabbath-peace hath 1ill'd 

My cnaaten'd heart, and all ita tbrobbinga still'd 

To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulnees ! 

MM. :HauNs: 

• Bw IMl oompoe!Uoa: wrttt.ell' lbw 4ol1• belbre ber d.,lh.

POUOI OJ' 'RZLIOlOlf. 

SLDP eon., beloved I we aomet1mee v.y, 

But have no time to charm away 

Sad dreams that tbrougl.t the eyelids creep; 

But never doleful dream again 

Shall break the happy slumber, when 

"He giveth Hi& belovM Bleep I" 

0 earth, 110 full of dreary noitee I 

0 men, with wailing in your voices ! 

0 delvM gold, ths waller's heaP. I 

0 strife, 0 curse that o'er it fAll l 

God strike~ a ailence through 7ou all, 

And giveth His LelovM aleep. 

Ria dews drop mutely on the hill, 

His oloud above it aaileth still, 

Though on ita elope men sow and reap. 

More softly than the dew ia shed, 

Or cloud is floated overhead, 

He giveth his belovM aleep I 

And friends, dear ft·ienda,-when it shall be 

That this low breath ia gone from me, 

And round my bier ye come to weep, 

Let one 1 _moat loving of you all, 

Say-" .Not a tear must o'er her fall- 

He giveth hia belovM Bleep!" 

E. B. BBOWli!UfU. 

i~t ~ub in ~cautu. 

So died In be.aoty, like a ro&e blown from ita parent stem ; 

She died in beauty, like a pearl dropp'd from aome diadem; 

She died In beauty, lik.e a lay along a moonlit lake; 

She died io beauty, l.ik.e the aoog orbirda amid the brake; 

She died in beao~y, l.ik.e the aoow on flowers dialolved away; 

She died in beauty, like a star lost on the brow of day; 

She livu in glory, lik.e Night'• gema Bd roood the silver moon ; 

She liYee in glory, like the tan amid the blue of Jane. 

AliOlf, 

'I

Jran!W .af " (\.e ~cprltb." 

Ta 1181. of lite :eenda forth tumultuoua waves; 

And aaddenl·y, beneath the trees, we couut 

Another a&ared. apot among the gra"t'eel: 

Another from the friendly circle gone, 

One hand tho leu to greet ua with ita ~ 

.And we, like Bacbel, comfortless do mourn. 

Soon, in the twilight, as night-blooming fiowera 

Begin to abed their perfume, cloee we feel 

The beating of :JW.otber heart tbm oan: 

.And with our fllner eenee another Hind 

Flood• waveer of thought ecstatic o'er our o~n. 

Ae though witb,in our very soul entwin$d: 

And u we oon these inner leseona o'er, 

We le~rn tha.t tboao we call " departed " hold 

A nearnesa to co1U'IIelves nnkDown before: 

And then we m.uae, and question where is heu.veo. 

Whose goldet!l streets our beat belovM walk, 

And unto whicl ~ our purest thonghta are givt~n: 

On distant at&ns we fix our longing gaze, 

Our aapirati~ona wing to furthest goals, 

Striving to find the land of love and praiae : 

In nin our thougbta far mystic realma explore; 

Wbere'er our lieart fa, there to usia heaveD, 

And all our tre:I8Tlre8 lie upon ita shore. 

J. s. A.l>AJI.S. 

a:kc Jca&~nra Jome. 

~'nle tbrmer llltllpare puM4aw...,."-BaY. liJd. ~ 

TB'Eu is a land of love, 

Where every wind breat hes aoft, and glad, au

No~ aarro'W'I tit.,._ • 

No broke~ bletdiog heart.a call ttw. &but.- 

No lilont, Joa.miog, IIJU'eq'Gited lo•- 

All, .all ar. •'iafiecl. 

o uppy land of lonl 

Bv morl&l, fee~ untroci, or eye UD~Ha; 

Whene'er I thlak of tl:l.e, tht. 9aagi.Ds lite 

Seema like • weuy dream. 

w~ 

fob bota ~bt in fain. 

I TBl•K, I feel- but when willlhe 

A wake to thought agaiD t 

A voice of comfort. &~a wen me, 

That God does nought iD •aiD: 

He waetea oor dower, nor bird, nor 1~ 

Nor wind, nor cloud, nor wa•e; 

Aod will be waste tho llope which grief 

Hath planted in the grAVe t 

ELLIO'l'l'. 

tgt ~ Jif.t. 

How aball I ltnow thee in tho aphore which keepe 

The diaem bodied epirita of tho dead, 

When all of thee th&t time coald wither aleepe 

And periahea among the duet we tread I 

For I ah.aJl feel the sting of ceaeeleae pain 

If there I meet thy gentle prsence no\; 

Nor hev the •oice I love, nor read apin 

In thy ee.reneat eyea the tender thought. 

Will not thy owu meek heart demand me there f 

That heart whoee fondest throba to me were giYe.o. 

My name on earth 'WlUJ ever In thy prayer 

ShAll it be ba.nish'd from thy tqtae in heava 1 

In meadowa fann'd by heaven'• life-breathtog wind, 

In the resplendence of that gloriot11 ephere 

And larger movement. of the unfetter'd mind, 

Wilt thou forget the love that join'd 111 here l

l'Oli:Kll 01' RXLIOION. 

The love that lived through all the etormy past, 

And mee\:ly with my hanher nature bore, 

And deeper grew, and tenderer to the Jut, 

Shall it expire with life, and be no more 1 

A happier lot than mine, and largtr light 

A wait thee there ; for thou !uult bow'd thy will 

In cheerful homage to the rule of right, 

And loveat all, and renderest good for ill. 

Yet though thou wear' at the glory of the sky, 

Wilt thou not keep the same belovM name, 

The aame fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye, 

Lovelier in hea\'en's sweet cli~n&te, yet the aame t 

ShAlt thou not teach me, in thAt calmer home, 

The wisdom th.at.Ilea.rn'd so ill in thia- 

Tbe wisdom which is love-till I become 

Thy 1it oompanion in that land of bliBB 1 

BaY~ 

~tic an * lltaten. 

Ou I lone is the apirit on lite's troubled ocean, 

With tempesta around it and torrenta below, 

Till calm o'er the breast the pure tho~hta of devotion, 

Like airs from the gardens of ParadUle blow. 

'Tis sweet, as we glide o'er tne cold wa vee of sorrow, 

To think of the loved who have ,.aniah'd before; 

We know they are blest; we shall meet them to-morrow a 

We pass o'er tbe deep, a.nd they call from the shore. 

They haate in their joy o'er the waters to meet us, 

The love-lighted wa.vee of the ocean of reet; 

And sweet are thE

ll.A.RT VII. 

POEMS OF CHARACTER, 

AND MISCELLANEOUS. 

A1fD ICbOrtl¥, Wb&ll lbe IOIUII WU to -lll, 

8o bad~e lapokeo w\tb bem neryollOQ, 

Tbot I wu of beno ~~>~••aolllpe aoon, 

ADd made forwanlariJ to.,.... 

To !Me oar •eye lher u I 10• dnyee. 

But~ 1t'biiM I ban 1J1De &114 1~ 

Of that I ltnben Ia tbla l&le pe.., 

Ke th!Uelh n aceonS&Dt to n.eoaa. 

To laUe 10"' alia lhe coodldpom 

Ofeolleofbem, eo ult eemed I!HI, 

AD4 nlcll tbey mnoo, and ofwbot 411"'- 

Cuucn.

POEMS OF CHARACTER, 

AND MISCELLANEOUS. 

t~ §DDlt faun. 

A ooon man was there of religiolUI, 

And wu a poor parson of a town; 

But rich he was of holy thought and work ; 

He wu alao a learned m&n • A clerk. 

That Obmt'a gospel would lruly preach, 

Hie pariahionere devoutly would he tel\ch. 

Beni~ be waa, and •ondroua diligent, 

And w adnreity full patient; 

A8 proveu. ot\J to &ill who laek'd a friend. 

Loth for hie tithes to ban or to contend, 

At every need mnch rather •aa he fow1d 

Unto hie poor parishionere around 

Of biB own eubst&nce and hla duea to give; 

Content on little, for hi.maelf, to liYe. 

Wide was hia pariah; the bou.eea far uunder; 

Yet never waited he for r&in or thunder, · 

Whenever aiekneae or mischance might eall, 

The moat remote to visit, great or llril&ll, 

And, atafl' in hand, on foot, the atorm to braYt~. 

This noble enaample to hie flock be gave, 

That fi.ret he wrought, and after that lie taught 

The wol'd of life he from the goepel caught; 

And well thia ft~re added he thereto, 

That if gold rust what should iron do 1 

.And if the priest be foul on whom we truat, 

Wbat wonder if the nnletter'd b.ym&n luwt t 

And shame it were in him the tlpck should keep, 

To eee a aullied shepherd, and clenn sheep.

~2 l'ODIB OJ' CRARAC'tll'll, A!fD ~BOU8. 

Well ought a priest eWWDple for to give 

By hia own cleanneaa ho\lr hia aheep ahoald live. 

He never aet his benedoe to hire, 

Leaving hia dockencumber'd in the mire 1 

And ran to London unto Saint Paul's, 

To aeek himself a. chauntery for souls, 

Or with & brotherhood to be enroll'd; 

But dwelt at home, and guarded well hie fold, 

So thAt it ahould not by the wolf miscarry ; 

He waa a ahepberd. and no mercenary. 

And though he holy were, s.nd virtuona, 

He ws.a to sinful men naught unpiteou.a; 

Not ofrepros.ch imperious or malign; 

But in hia tes.cbing discreet and benign. 

To dr&w them on to he&ven, by fair.neae 

.And good eumple, ws.a his baaineBB: 

But were there &ny pereon obetlnate, 

Were be oflofty or oflow astate, 

Him would he shArp reprove I wia : 

A better priest I trow there nowhere ia. 

He waited not on pomp_ or reverence, 

Nor ms.de himself a epioM conscience. 

The lore of Christ and his apostles twelve 

He taught: but, fi.ret, he followed it himaelve. 

CSAoOJta. (Jfor4miw.l.) 

tgt llllagt Jt.eacqu. 

Nua yonder copse, wheJ:"e once the garden smiled, 

And still where many a garden ftower grows wild, 

There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, 

The village preacher's modest mansion rose, · 

A mau be ws.a to all the countt'Y dear, 

And p11118ing rich with forty pou.nds a year; 

Remote from towns he nm his godly race, 

Nor e'er had cbll.llged, nor wiah'd to change hia pla~ i 

Uu:practised he to fawn, or seek for power, 

By doctrines faahion'd to the varying honr; 

Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, 

More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 

His hou.ae was known to all the vagrant trai~ 

He chid their wand'rings, bnt relieved their pain ; 

The long-remember'd beggar waa hia guest, 

Whose beaM, descending, swept hie aged breaat;

I'Oiflf8 OJ' CHAB.Aar&a, AIID .lllBOIIt.I.4.NJ:OU8, 

S33 

The ruin'd apendtbrift, now no longer proad, 

Claim'd kindred there, and bad h.i.a elatm eJluw'd ; 

The brokenaoldier, kindly- bade to stay, 

Sat by hie fire, &ad t&lk'd the night awa:r; 

Wept o'er hie wounda, or 1 talea ofaorrow done, 

Sboulder'd hie eruteh, ano.ehow 'd bow fielda were won. 

Pleued with hia gueat.e, the good man lee.ru'd to glow 1 

And quite forgot their vioea in their woe; 

Careleaa their merita or their fa.ulta to eean, 

Hie pity g&Ve ere chM"ity begu. 

Thua to relieve the wretched WM hie pride, 

And e'en his failinplea.n'd to virtue's aide; 

But In hie duty prompt, &t every ceJl, 

He wateh'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, for &1\: 

And, u a bird each fond endearment triM, . 

To tempt ita new--ftedged of!'spring to the akies, 

He tried each art., reproved each dull delay, 

AllllJ"ed to brighter worlds, and led the way. 

:Buide the bed where parting life w&a l&id( 

And aorrow, ~Ut., &nd p&in by turns dismay d, 

The reverend champion atoow'd, with endearing wile, 

And plnek'd his gown, to abare the gOod mao's amilP 1 

Hta :ready smile a parent'• wannth expreea'd 1 

Their welfare pleased him, and their e&rea dUitreaa'd; 

To them hia heart, hie love, his griefs were ginn, 

llut all hia eeriona tho~bta had rest in heaven: 

Aa some tall olift', that h(ta ita awful Corm, 

Swell• from the vale, and midway leaves the atorm ; 

Though round ita breut the rolling clouds are aprea I, 

Eterrial aunahine settles on ita heait. 

GoLD8J11'7'1J.

W out.» I deecribe a preaober, 10ob u Paw, 

Were be on earlb, would hear, approve, .and own, 

Paul eboold himeelf direct me. I -.vooJd trace 

Hie muter-.trokee, and draw from hie deeigu. 

I would expr- him &imple,, grave, ainoere ;· 

In doctrine unoorrupt ; in lariguage plain, 

And plain in manner; decent 1 aolemn, chute, 

And natural in gesture ; mucn impreea'd 

Himeelf, u oonacioua of bia a wfol charge, 

And anxioua mr.inly that the ftoek be feetle 

Mar feel it too; aft'eetion&te in loo"' 

And tender in add.rea, u well becomes 

A. m-nger of grace to guilty men. · 

Oonu.. ,, . 

' 

A lUll eo varioua, that be aeem'd to lle 

Not one, but all mankind's epitome: 

Stift' in opinioue, alw•x• i.n the wroD!f• 

Wae e•ery thing by awta, and Dothm.g long; 

But in the eonrae of one revolving moqp 

Wu obtuniat, fiddler, statesman. &n~ boff.op.n: 

Then all for womeP, rhyming, dancing,· sl,rinking, 

Beeidea ,ten thou.a&Dd f"'llke.that died ui thinkiDg. 

Balling and praising were hia .uiual ,th~ea,- 

.And bOth, to ahow bia judgmant, in ext~: 

So over violent, or over oin1, 

That nery man with him waa god or devil 

In ~uandering wealth waa bia peculiar art ; 

Noth~ went unrewarded bnt deaert. 

Beggar d by foole, whom still he fou~d too !4te, 

He had hiajeet, and they bad hie estate. · · 

•Dal'DP'.

31'1 'I\'.9Wk ftluaat. 

To pomp &Dd p.geautry in noudlt allied, 

A noble P.,.nt, 1u.ac A.ahford; died. 

Noble he was, contemning all thiuge mean, 

Hill truth 'OIIqu.eetion'd, aDd his 10ul aere.n!': 

or DO mAil'S px.enoe Ieu.c felt afraid, 

At no m&n'a queetion Jaa,a.c look'd diam&y'd : 

Shame knew him not, he dreaded no disgrace ; 

Trut~ simple trut.h, wu writtfn iu his faoe. 

To bll'IB domeetie he hill heart reaign'd, 

And, with the fi.rme&t, had the Condeat mind : 

Were others joyful, he look'd a~g on, 

And gan &l.lowance where he needed none : 

Good he refueed with future ill to bo.y, 

Nor knew & joy that e&uaed retlection'a ligh; 

A Criend to virtue, hie unclouded bret\11~ 

No envy etung, no jealouay diatreu'd; 

Yet f&r waa be {rom stoic pride re~oved, 

He felt humanel7, and be wa.nnly loved : 

I mark'd hie aot1on wben hie infant die"' 

And hie old neighbour fqr oft'ence waa tried.; 

The still tea.ra, atealing doWD that furrow'd cheek, 

Spoke pity plainer than the tongue oe.n-apeak. 

If pride were hie, 'twaa not their vulgar pride, 

Who, in their hue contempt, the great deride ; 

Nor pride in leuning, though my cle~;k agreed, 

If fate ehould call him, Ashford might suooeed ; 

Nor pride in rustic akill, although we knew 

None his auperior 1 

and hie equala few; 

But if that spirit m hie soul had pl&ce, 

It was the jealoua pride that ahWlll di~e; 

A pride in bon1111t fame, by virtue gain d 1 

I n sturdy boye to virtuooalaboure U'ain d; 

Pride in the power that guarde hia country's ooaat., 

.And &1.1 that Eugliehmen enjoy and boast; 

Pride, in A life that aiJLnder'e tongue uelied, 

ln fAct, A noble pa81rion 1 tnmwnOO pride. 

1 (eel hia Abeence in the hours of praye-r, 

And view llie seat, and sigh Cor I.eaao there. 

. . . . . . . 

But be ie bleee'd, and I lament uc more, 

A wi.ae good mnn, coute.oted to be poor. 

Ca.nml!.

Jidu.n Df a.{~. 

MT liege, t did deny no prisoners. 

Bat, I remember, when the fight wu dol!e, 

wn~n I was dry with rage and extreme toil, 

Brea.thleu and faint, leaning upon my aword, 

Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dresa'd ; 

Freab ae e. bridegroom ; alld his chin, new reap'd, 

Bhow'd 1iko a atubblo•land 1\t hArVest-home ; 

He Wllll perfum&l like 1\ milliner; 

And 'twiXt hill finger and bia thumb he hel! 

A pounoet-box, which, ever and anon, 

He gave bill noee, e.nd t.ook't e. way again ; 

Who therewith angry 1 

when it next came there_, 

Took it in snuff' :-ana still he smiled and talk'a: 

And, ae the soldiers bore dead bQdiea by, 

He called them-untaught knavt~~, unmannerly, 

To bring a alovenly unhandsome coree 

:Betwixt the wind an

~ Sbipan. 

Tuns also W&ll a Shipman from far Weat; 

For aught I know in Dartmouth he nbode; 

Well && ho could upon a hack he rode, 

All in a ehirt oftow-clotb to the knee; 

A dagger banging by a lace had he, 

About bi.a neck, under bia arm &down ; 

The eummor'a beat had made hie hue &11 brown. 

He Wl\8 a right good fellow certainly 1 

And many a cargo of good wine had be 

Run from Bordeaux while the exoiaem&n alept i 

or a nice conscience 110 great care he kept, 

lf that be fought and had the upper hand, 

By water he sent them home to every land ; 

And in his eraf\ to reckon well the tides, 

The deef. aea-current.s, and the ehoale beaides, 

The aun a height, and the moon'a, aud pilotage, 

Tbet'e wu none eucb from Hull unto Cat·tht.ge; 

Hardy he waa and wiae, 1 undertake; 

Hie beard ha.d felt full mauy a tempest'~ ali&ke : 

He knew well all the havens aa they wore, 

From Goth.laud to the Cape de Finiaterre, 

And every creek in Brittany and Sp11in ; 

Hie truaty bark was named the M11gdelaine. 

Cuucaa (Alodernued.) 

lg.e ~blt .itnbtnt. 

Tn rain ie playing ita aoft,/leu11nt tune 

Fitfully on the skylight, an the ebl\de 

Of the laat 6yi.ng clouds aoroea my book 

Pa.uee with delicate change. My merry tire 

Sings cheerfully itself; my mueiu~ eat 

Porn aa ahe wakes from her uoqutet sleep, 

And looks into my face u if ahe felt, 

Lilce me, the gentle inftuenoe of the rain. 

He~ have I aat aince morn- reading aometimes, 

And sometimes listening to the futer fall 

Of the larttt: drops, or, rising with the atir 

Of an unbldden thought, have walk'd awhile. 

With the slow stepa of indolence, my room; 

And then eat down composedly again 

To my qu&int book of olden poetry. 

z

333 ~ o• ~ORB, .uro ~us. 

It ia a kind or idleneu, 1 boy j 

.And I am aaid to be an idle man 

And it i.e W1f7 Uua. I love to go 

Out in the pl~ aun, NJd let m1_ eJe 

1\eet OD the bumaD f&cea that p&.- bJ 1 

EAch with ita gay or buay int.treet; 

And then I muee upon their JD~ &lld ~ 

llany a l&IIIIOn in their ~v.l cut ; 

.And 10 gJ'OW kind of~ aDd feel & loY~ 

Stirring my aoul to every liviog tla.img; 

And my low prayer has more humility • 

.And I ai.ok lightlier to m1 drw.ma. 

fDltaiu ~ike Jw-fntltr. 

Yox eot.ta«er, who weavee at her owa ~r, 

PiUow ancfbobbine all her little etol'8; 

Con•nt though mean, and eheerlul if a&t py, 

Shuftling her tbreade about the lin-long dG7 1 

Just earna • ae&uty pittance, &od a.t night 

Liea dowtl eecnre, ller beM't Mid poeket Hpt; 

She, ~or her hum~ sphere by '8&~ fit, 

Rite little undenltandmg ar~d ao wit; 

Reeeivea DO praise ; but tboagb lter lot ·be .utlb-· 

(Toi.18ome ADd indigent) ehe rendera much ; 

.lust knows, and k:Uowe no more, her .Bible true 

A truth the brllliaut Frenchman never knew ; 

.And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes 

Her title to a treasure in the akies. 

Oh, happy peaaeot I Oh, uubappy bard.! 

1Iia the DUl'e tiDaeJ. ber'e the rioa nward ; 

He praised. .perhape for ages y.et to OOIPot, 

She never hWd or b;.ir a wile from ilAme.; 

He loet ill erroN his vain heart pl'efen, 

She safe in the aimpli~ity of aer'a. 

COWPX&. 

«kt .f'ulb ~IIJ~· 

&soLD her, single io the 6eld, 

You eolitar1 HiglilADd ~I 

Reaping and aillgiog by herself; 

Stop here, or _geot.l1 J16M l

l'OEXB OJ' CII.&JU.O'l'lm, ..UD ~'011. 339 

Alone she cats and binds the gra.W, 

And singe a melaaeholy atraio ; 

0 listen ! for the Vale profolllld 

Is over1low~ with the aound. 

No nightingale did ever chaunt 

More welcome notes to WtiU"f ~s 

or travellel"B, in 801J!e ehady ~llllt 

Amon~ Arabian ~dj!; 

Snob t~ri.ijing voice :was aeva beard, 

In spring-time, fr9m the ~w-"bi.rd., 

Breakipg the eilence of the 11$11.1 

Amon,.g the far,thea~ _Heqr.ides. 

Will no one ~ll rp.,e wb,at abe s.inga;t- ' 

Perhaps ~he P.Jaintive numbem ft.o,r 

For old, unhappy, faN>ft thing'.> 

And' battles long ago : 

Or ia\t. some more humble lay, 

Familiar matter of t

340 l'OBllB OF CUuO'rEB, AlfD IUIICBLL.UBOUS. 

Hie f'ace waa broWD, by winds mr.de hard, 

H ia voice waa deep, and clear, and loud, 

And bad been hea.rd o'er many a atorm, 

Hie brow had &lao ouee been proud ; 

Bot age bad len ita track behind, 

Like aea.-ehores worn by wave and wi11d. 

A lllDuggler in his youth waa he, 

Few lr.new the name he bore when young; 

But of that crew he wna the laat, 

Tbe reAt were abot, or drown'd, or hnng, 

And mmy a dreadful tale he knew, 

or that swift abip and fear)e88 crew. 

He long bad len that dangerous life, 

Aud up the river lived alone; 

A little island on the Trent, 

A little l1ut be call'd his own, 

W ith no companion, eave wheu I, 

A boy, could bear him company. 

He loved t.o row hie boat by night, 

When all around the air waa atilt, 

To bait his boob, and cast hie linea, 

Where shadows deepen'd 'neath the hill. 

'Twu then some old eea.-atave he'd awg, 

That made the silent darkneea ring. 

Or seated where the willowa WL\Yed, 

Gazing upon the blue-arch'd eky, 

He'd fold bia arma in thoughtful mood, 

While tea!'ll gu.sh'd from each deep-sunk eye: 

I wonder'd then, but ainee that time, 

Have found how thought. and feelings chime. 

Soma deem'd be waa a surly mau ; 

But they knew not hie grief• and fears, 

How he bad been beloved by one, 

Wboee imftge lay "too deep for tears," 

To which hie heart uncbauged ha.J stood 

Through breeze and bl\ttle, fire and flood. 

He had uo kindred whom be knew, 

No social converse to enjoy ; 

He left bia village-home wheu yonng 1 

But came not back again a boy. 

Yea.r after year bad come and g_one 1 

Ria parents died, nor heard of John.

POBKS OJ' CB.t.JU.Cl'BB, A.lfD KISO.Iti.L.UJWu&. 

Year a~r yea.r-long were they dead, 

When home he joumey'd o'er the wana, 

Garden and cot were desolllt&- 

One night he spent beside their graves ; 

Then on that island lone and drear, 

He built a hut, and ehelter'd there. 

How first I won tho old mau'e love, 

It boots not now for me to tell; 

I went his journeys to the town 

I st1•ove my best and pleased him well, 

ADd for him many a time foreook 

My home, my playmates, school and boolt. 

And mauy a tale was my reward, 

Bow ship chased ship ttpon the ae&, 

'Mid rolling waves and shouting winds, 

And thunders pealing dreadfully, 

While lightnings tlaah'd athwart the deep, 

O'er rocks up which the wavea did leap. 

Of gory decks, and yard-anna join'd, 

When ehips were boarded hAnd to ha.nd ; 

How they the burning veaael fought, 

With dirk and pistol, blade and brand, 

Till loud the dread exploaion rung, 

While mast and spar around were 11.uug. 

How some jump'd ahrieking in the waves, 

ADd some were heaved up to the sky, 

The dead and dying aide by aide, 

While yell, and about. and piercing cry, 

Join'd with the cannons' hollow roar, 

Startled the sea-birds from the shore. 

Then on th~t little island green, 

Which t.o the breeze was ever free, 

At evening-time before his door, 

He'd walk as when on deck at sea, 

With one hand on his lxleom placed ; 

While memory many a past scene traced. 

His little bark was moor'd hard by 1 

The 'fi}lage-bella in distance ringmg, 

The wt.ves ruade maeic rouud his home, 

And murmur'd while the birds were singing; 

While here and there a distant. eail 

Gleam'd o'er green Ashcron•a winding vale. 

Ml 

"

3ft 

1'0 .. or OIIAUcmr.&, A11'D 1080~.-GUa. 

B11t yean have roll'd by ainee he died ; 

Tba' illand il hia ftlting-place ; 

Hie lonely pve you yet may eee, 

:S.t of hil hut tbenl il DO tn.oe. 

Aod there the bittern plumee her wi~Jg, 

While -.riDd. and wave• around him amg. 

M nrp 

~ flrirait. 

8u ,.... • Pbaatoe of delight 

When fl.rat abe ~leam'd upon my aight. ; 

A lovely Appa.r1tion, aent 

To be a moment'• ornament. 

H er eyee u at.&n of Twilight tall'; 

Like Twi.light'a, t.oo, her dnaky h.&.ir; 

But all thin~ elae about hel' draWD 

From May-t1me t.nd the cheerful ~ ; 

A dancing Shape, all 1matJe gay, 

To ban~, to at.artle, t.Dd we.yl&y. 

law her, upon nea"" vi~, 

A Spiri,, yet a Womt.n too I 

Her bons'ehold motions light aDd ftee,. 

And .tepa of vi.rpliberty ; 

A countenance, 111 which d1d meet 

Sweet recorda, promiaee u~aweet • 

A Creature not too briaht or 

For humau nature's dail,Y t ; 

For t.n.naient aorrow~ aUDple wilee, 

Praise, blame, love, kiaaee, tears, and amile11. 

And now, I ee«, with eye eereoe, 

The very pulae of the ma¢hine ; 

A Being matbfng thoughtful breath. 

A Travetler between life and death ; 

The rei.aon firm, the temperattl will, 

Eudura~..Joruight, atJoenJth, and •kiD 1 

A perf~ womao, nobly plum'd 1 

To wara, to &olll.fA>rt, and oom~ 

Ancl yet a Spirit atill, ud ~.riBb~ 

With. IOmeUW., of aoa-lic li&bt. 

W O&INnfOR'I'H.

ON put the vfll&ge, with ita humble apl:r& 

Ita quiet cota along the valfeye winding; 

And thence among old woods, a11d roou antique, 

And mellow fern-glooms, kindling with the glow 

ot gora&-ftowen golden, to a ruin guy, 

O'ergreen'd with trailing ivy, and o'erhung 

With brooding shadows of the time or yore. 

'Tia Bradgate's noble aeat-a deeert pile, 

Slow mouldering in eun Alld wiDd and rain ; 

But aacred in ita J!l1in ; eioce of old 

'Twu graced by one who wae a peerleea Quee~t, 

And more than royal Woman-ver bleat, 

Our lady, sweet J&ne Grey. Her gentle name 

Ia the aole glory ofa lorilly ra.ce; 

But her dear fAme 1e hallow'd in all hearta 

That bow belore m.iaf'ortune'a m'\ieety, 

And wol"'lhip Goodne~~~, Womanhood diviue. 

She wu & mAl'Vel of all pel·fectnea&- 

Fair &a a flower, and gracioua. ~ a atar 

That ebinee on earth, untoucb'd by earthly taint. 

The faith and fervour of a holy aaint 1 

The treo.eu.red wisdom of a greybeard aa~e, 

A bero'e aou.l, and all a woman'e heart, 

Blended with beauty of her maiden youth. 

And here abe dwelt unepotted from tha worldw 

In lol\y converee with the wiae of old, 

In pioua medit:atio!l mom and eve, 

In watchi.D& and iD pra.yer. 

Wai'OlO&L 

~~ J~ ltarprd. 

BJmDl) Lord Howud and the l>anle 

Fair 1lrlu-g&n' OJl her pU!re1 e&m&y . 

Whoee foot-doth. aw&pt the ground: 

Wbite waa her wimple, &nd her veU, 

And bar lof»e locka a chaplet pale 

or whitest l'QIM boun.d: 

The lordly Angua b7 her aide, 

In oourteey So chee.- ber vied; 

WitheQt u aid, h• ha.ud i.o nm 

Jhd et~• ~ gul

,344 POJ::IIS o• OB4.B.ACTBB, AND JllliCKLL,Ufi!OUS. 

He deem'd 11he shuduer'd at the sight 

Of warriors met !or mortal fight• 

But e&tllle of te.rror, all ungu-t, 

Waa Buttering in her gentle breast, 

When, in their chairs of crimson placed, 

The Dame and abe the warriol"ll graced. 

Soorr. 

t~t Jut llintirtl 

TID way was long, the wind was cold, 

The Minstrel was infirm and old ; 

Hie witber'd cheek, and treaaea grey, 

Seem'd to have known a better day; 

The harp, his aole remaining joy, 

Was carried by an orphan boy. 

The hat o! all the bards w11s he 1 

Who aung of .Border chivalry ; 

For, well·a--day I tbeir date waa fie~ 

Hill tuneful brethren all were dead ; 

And he, neglected and oppreaat, 

Wisb'd to be with them, and at rest. 

No mor~ 

1 on prancing palfrey borne, 

He carou'cl, light as l&rk at morn ; 

No longer courted and caresat, 

H igh placed in hall, a welcome guest, 

H e pour'd, to lord and lady gay, 

The unpremeditated lay : 

Old times were changed, old mannert gone ; 

· A stranger fill'd the Stunrta' throne; 

The bigots of the iron time 

Had call'd bill harmless art a erime. 

A wanderin~ barpl'r, acorn'd and poor, 

He begg'd h111 bread from door to door ; 

And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, 

The harp a king bad loved to bear. 

. . .. . . . 

Hueh'd ill the ba~tbe M.in.atrel gone. 

And did he wander forth alone 1 

Alone, in indigence and age, 

To linger out hill pilgrim.age I 

No; close beneath P-roud Newark's tower, 

.bose the Minatrela lowly bower;

POI!,JUI ol' CIUBA.CTE&, .Lml lllllSCELLA.lfliOU& 34:S 

A simple but; but there wu seen 

The little garden hedged with green, 

The cheerful hearth, the lattice clean. 

There ahelt.er'J wanderera, by the blue, 

Ol't beard the tale of other day.; 

For much be loved to ope hia door, 

And give the aid he begg'd before. 

So paaa'd the winter's d11y ; but still, 

Wben anmmer smiled on sweet Bowhill, 

And J uly'a eve, with balml breath, 

Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath; 

When tbroetlee aung on Harehead-ahaw, 

.And corn waved green on Cuterbaagh, 

And 1lonriah'd, broad, Blackandro'a oak, 

The aged hArper's soul awoke I 

Then woolti he sing achievements high, 

And circnDllltauce of chivalry, 

Till the rapt traveller would &t.ay, 

F orgetful of the closing daT; 

ADd noble youtha the etram to hear, 

'Foraook the bunting of the deer; 

And Yarrow, ae he roll'd along, 

Bore burden to the Minstrel'& eong. 

SoO'l'l'. 

'hr 4:Dming fad. 

Wao feels that God and Heaven's great deepa are nearer 

Him to whose heart hie fellow-man ie nigh, 

Who doth not holcl hie aoul'e own freedom de11.rer 

'£han that of all his brethren, low ur high ; 

Wbo to the right can feel himself the truer 

For being gently patient with the wrong, 

Wbo eeea a brother in the evil-doer, 

And finds in Love the he~~rt'a blood of his aoog ; 

This, this ie he for whom the world ia waitiQg 

To aing the beatings of ita mighty heart. 

To him the smiling soul of man ehallllateb, 

Laying awhile ita crown of thorn.e aeide, 

And once again in every eye 11h&ll gU.ten 

The glory or a nature aatia.6ed. 

Hie verae shall have a great, commiUld.ing motion, 

Heaving and swelling with a melody 

Learnt of the aky, the river, a.nd the ocean, 

And all the pure majestic things that be. 

LowEW..

JIUAil; IJJ, * 4Janul-mb.a. 

Sair.n-The DBMrl. Tuo-Jfid-day. 

b eilent honor, o'er the botmdlass waate 

The driver 1laeu.D wit.h bia camels put; 

One cruise of w-ater on hia back he bore, 

ADd hia lighb aorip conta.in'd a acantJ. atore ; 

A fan of painted feathen in his hand. 

To gu.ud hia ahaded face from acorchi.llg llll1f, 

The eultryaun had J'&in'd the middla eky, 

.And not a tree and not &n herb waa nigh ; 

The beuta with pain their dUlltJ way pUI"'WWt 

Shrill roar'd the winds and dreary wae the view I 

With desperate aorrow wild, the alfrighted man 

Thrice sigb'd, thrice struck hie breaat and ~hua began_ 

"Sad waa the hour, a.nd luckleaa wae the dny, 

When fi.ret from Schira.a' walla I bent m1 way I 

''.Ah! little tbouflht I of the blaating win~ 

The thirst or cg hunger, that I find ! 

Bethink tllee, I 'wllere shAll thirat assuage, 

When faila this cr11ise, hia unrelenting r&¥e t 

Soon shaJ.l this 10rip ite preeioua lOAd rea1gn, 

Then what but tears and hungtll' shall be thine 1 

"Ye mute compA~~iona o£ my toils, tbat bear 

In all my grief's a more than equalebare I 

Here, where no spring-. in murmura break away, 

Or moes-crown'd fountains mitiga.te the dny, 

In vain ye hope the green delights to kuow, 

Which plains more bleat or verd.ant vales bestow : 

Here rocks alone and taatelellll' 8&1lda are found, 

And faint ana eiclcly winds for ever howl a.round. 

Sad was the hour and luckleaa was tne day, 

When first from Schiraz' walla I bent my way J 

" OutoMd be tht> ~ and ell•er whieb ~reu.ade 

Weak men to tonow t'ar-fatiguin« trade I 

The lily ~ oute"hioes the ail~er store, 

And life 18 dea.rer than the golden ore : 

Yet money temptll ua o'er the deeert brown, 

To every distant mart and wealthy towa. 

Full oft we tempt the la.nd, and oft tile sea ; 

And are we only yet repaid by thee J

l'ODJS o• OBAAACl'B'R. JJro Kfeoltt.L4!1B01l'B. 

lM'7 

Ah I why wu' tuin id attraetil'e made, 

Or why fond man 110 eaaily betra.y'd 1 

Why heed w& not, while tnad we haste along, 

The gentle 'f'oice CJf Pt>aee., O'l' Pleaeure's &ODi t 

Or wberefore think the ilo\tery mount&in'e sirle, 

The fountain's murmurs, &lld tbe valley'• pllide, 

Why think we these leBB pleasing to behold, 

Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold 1 

Sad was the hour, and luokleBB wna the day, 

When lirat from Sehiraz' walls I bent my way I 

" 0 oeU(', my fear& !-all frau tic u I go, 

When thought create• unnumber'd scenea of woe, 

What if the lion in hie rage I meet !- 

Of\. in the duat ( view his ~rioted feet : 

Alld fearful oft, whe.n Days de~:lining light 

Yield.e her pale empire to the mourner Night, 

By hunger rouaed, be acou;s the, ~anioiJ plaiD, 

Gaunt wolves and aulleJi. tigera lD hts tram: 

Before them Death with shrieks dincta their way, 

Filla the wild yell, and leads them to their prey. 

Sad W&JI the hour, and luok!eaa was t.he day, 

When 1i.r8t from Schiraz' walls 1 bent my way I 

•• At that dead hour the silent up shall creep, 

It augllt of rest 1 lind, upon m1 alesp : 

Ot· some awoln serpent twist bta 11calte around, 

And wake to anguish with a burning wound. 

Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, 

From luat of wealth, and dread of death eecur~ ! 

'they tempt no deaerta, and no griefs they find ; 

Peace rnlea the day where reason rules the mind. 

Sad wu the hour, and lncklesa wu the day, 

When fi.rat from Bchinz' walla l bent my way I 

" 0 hapless you ~h 1- fot she thy 1ove hath won, 

The tender Zara will be moat undone I 

Big swaU'd my hea.rt, and. cnm'd the pow•rfel malcl, 

When fast ahe dropp'd her ~a$, u tnoa eb• aid: 

• FaTeweU tfte y~oth whom aipa eould not. detailt ; 

Whoru. Zara's braking heut 1mplored ill Tam! 

Yet u thou. go'at, m1111 ev•ry blaa~ ~ 

Weak and unfelt, as 'heae rejected aiJ~I 

Safe o'er t\e wild, bO peril.f mAylt thOu •e, 

No griefs endww, oor weep, falae youth, Uke me.> 

•

348 POIDt8 o• CIU.lUil'l'EJt, AND Kl90.ItLI..A.lfEOU8. 

0 ! let me aa.fely to the fair Hturn, 

Bay with a kiss, ehe must not, ehall not mourn ; 

0 ! let me teach my heart to lose it.i fears, 

~ll'd by Wisdom'• voice Alld Zara'e tears." 

He aa.id, and ca.ll'd on Heaven to bless the dar 

When back to Sehiraz' walla he bent hie way. 

CoLLlltS. 

«~r !llaib·hlb of 4tliaaiut~ a! Jungarv. 

Eliz. (Ul•towTolce.) TURouoa the atiflin.g room 

Floats att-ange perfume ; 

Through the crumbling thatch 

The a.ugele watch, 

Over the rotting roof-tree. 

They warble and l!utter, and hover and glide, 

Wafting old sounds to nty dreary bed-aide, 

Snatches of aonga which I u~d to know 

When I alept by my nurae, and the swallows 

Oall'd me at day-dawn from un•ler the eaves. 

H.t.rk to them !' luu·k to them now 

Fluting like woodlarka, tender and low 

Cool ruat'ling leavea-tl'iekling watera- 

Sheepbelle over the le&. - 

. . . . 

. . • . . hie merry carolrevell'd 

Through all my brain, Alld woke my parchM throat 

To join hla aong: then angel melodiea 

Bunt through the dull d:u-k, and the mad air qniver'd 

Unutterable music. 

KIN QBLJ:l', 

l ·a ·lfottofn. 

!If the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, 

May my lot no le• fortunate be 

Than a snug elbow-ebair cau afford for reclining, 

And a cot that o'erlooka the wide sea; 

With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, 

While I carol awAy idle aorrow · 

And blithe as the lark that each dr.y haila the dawn, 

Look forward with hope for to-morrow.

POIUI.8 OP CHAJUCfER, AND 11111SCE'LLI.lHWU8. 349 

With a porch at my door, both for shelter &nd abade too, 

.Aa the aunahine or rain ma,y prevail ; 

And a ama.U apot of grottnd for the use of the spade too, 

With t. bani for the use of the fia.il ! 

A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, 

And a pu111e when a friend wants to borrow; 

I'll envy no nabob bia riches or JB.me, 

Nor what honoun await him to-morrow. 

From the bleak northern blast m11y my cot be completely 

Secured by a neighbouring hill ; 

And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly 

By tbe aouud of a murmuring rill: 

And while peace and plenty I 1ind at my board, 

With a heart free from sickneaa aDd aorrow, 

With my friends may I ahara what to-dt.y may afford, 

And let them apread the table to-morrow. 

And when I at last must throw off this fnil covering 

"Which I've worn for threescore yea111 and ten, 

On the brink of the _v.ave ru not ~~eek to be hovel'ing, 

Nor my thread Wl.Sh to spin o'et• again: 

13ut my face in the gla.ss I'll serenely aurvey, 

And with amiles count each wrinkle and furrow; 

A.a thia old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare to-day, 

May become everla.st~g to-morrow. 

Cot.t.t)IS. 

'b.ebi-4:i~tu. 

GoD proaper long our noble king, 

Our line and aafetie8 all ; 

A woful bunting once there d.id 

In Cbevy-Cha.se befall. 

To drive the deer with hound and horn 

Earl Pet·cy took his way; 

The child may rne that is unborn 

Tbe hunting of that day, 

The etout Earl of Northun1berland 

A vow to God did mnke, 

His pleuuaoe in the Scottish woods 

Three &UOlmer days to take;

The chiefest ha.rta in Chn:J~ 

To kill a.nd be.a.r a'Way, 

These tidings to Earl Doug!.-~·· 

In ScotlAnd where he ]p.1 : 

Who eent Ban Percy preeent 'lfOI'It, 

He 'Would prennt hit IJ?Ort. 

The Engliab earl, not feal'lng that, 

Did to the 'Woods reeort 

Wit.h fifteen hulld!'ed ~ \91d, 

AU chosen men of m~t, 

Who kne.w full well ill LUDI or :ll~ 

To aim their abat\a aright. 

The gallant greyhounds a~y rau 

To cb&ae fhe fallow deer: 

On Monday they began to bunt 

When daylight did appear ; 

.And loll,Cl before high ooon th&J bad 

.A hundred fat bu.cb .!ain; 

Then haTing dined, the clroVA!I'II we~ 

To rouae the deer again. 

The bowmen mustel"d on the ht1la 1 

Well able to enclure· 

And all their rear, with special care, 

That day W&S guarded aure. 

The bounds ran awi!Uy through t.he woods, 

The nimble deer to take; 

That with their cries the hills and dales 

An echo shrill did make. 

Lord Perey to the qua~ ·w..at, 

To Tiew the elatJghter'd deer; 

Quoth be, n FAd Doog)u t»1l01Dl.Md 

Tbia day to meet me here : 

"But if I thought be w~ a4 oome, 

No longer would I .at-&71 ~ ' 

With tha.t • brave you.ng patl,e,aia~ 

Thus to the earl did 8&f: 

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglt.S oome, 

H.ia men in a.nnour bright; 

Full twenty hundred Scottith 'l"IIV'& 

All marching in our sight; 

..

PO~ o:r CB'.AlL&.CfER, AlfD KISOEU.,UB0'0'8. 

3ol 

" All mtn ofpleaunt Teviotdale, 

Fast by the river Tweed:" 

' 1 Then eeaae your epo~ ." Earl Perq sa iJ, 

"And take ya.Jr bows with apeed: 

'"And now with me, my eountrymeo, 

Your courage forth adv&Dce; 

For never wu there eha.mpio» yot, 

Iu Scotland or in Fmnoe, 

" That ever did on hor:se.ba(.lk OOD.le, 

But if my hap it were, 

1 du1"11t encounter man for ma.n, 

W ith him to break a spear." 

&rl Douglas on bia milk-white ~. 

Moat like a baron bold, 

.Rode foremoet of ha .comPI'ly, 

Whose armour shone like golcl 

" Show me," eaid he, " whoee men you be, 

That hunt eo boldly l!ere ; 

That, without my consent, do ~ 

And kill my ~Uow-deer." 

The 6nt man tba.t did ~awer ~ke, 

W ae noble Perey hfl J 

Wbo said, •• We list not to declare, 

Nor ahow whose men we~: 

" Yet will we spend our deartst blood. 

Thy chiefest harts to alay." 

Then Douglas swore a aolemn oath, 

And thns in rage did •T- 

" Ere tbua I will outbravM be, 

One of us two ahall die: 

r know thee well, $11 earl tllQp ,art, 

Lord Percy, eo •m L 

"But trust me 1 PeTey, pity it were, 

And great offence to kill 

Any of these our guiltlea men. 

For they have done no ilJ. 

"'Let you and me the battle try, 

And aet our men aside." 

"Accursed be he,'' Earl Percy aaid, 

"'By. whom this ia denied."

Then atepp'd a gallant equ.ire forth, 

Witherington wu hie name, 

Who aid, •• I would not han it told 

To Henry, our king, for abAme, 

"That e'er my captain fought on foot, 

And I stood loolciog on. 

You t.wo be earle," u.id Witherington, 

" And I a aquire alone : 

"TU do the best that do I may, 

While I have power to stand : 

While I have power to wield my aword, 

I'll fight with heart and band." 

Onr English archers bent their bows, 

Their hearta were good and true ; 

At the first Jlight of arrowa eent, 

Full foiU'Bcore Scota they alew. 

Yet. stays Earl Douglas 011 the bent, 

.U chieftain stout aud good ; 

As valiant captaiu, all unmoved, 

The ahock he firmly stood. 

His boat he parted bad in three, 

As leader ware and tried ; 

And soon bill spearmen on their fo3s 

Bore down on every aide. 

Throughout the English archery 

Thel deRlt full many a wound; 

Bat still our valiant Englishmen 

All firmly kept their ground. 

And throwing straight their bows away, 

They grusp'd their swords ao 'llright : 

And now ah Rrp blows, a bt>avy shower, 

On shields and bel mete light. 

They closed full faat on eveJ')' aide, 

No slackness tht>re W3.9 found; 

And mauy a g!!.llant geutlemllll 

La.y gasping 011 the ground. 

Ob.J.. Christ ! it wns a grief to aee 

J:l.ow each one cbo~e hie apenr, 

And how the blood out of their breasts 

Did gush like water clear.

l'OElfB Oil' OBARACl'ER, Al!!D lflBCY..LW.NEO'O'S, 363 

At last these two stout earls did meet, 

Like captains of great might: 

Like lions wode, they laid on lode, 

And made a. cruel fight : 

They fought until they both did swe11t, 

With swords of temper'd steel ; 

Until the blood, like dro~ of rain, 

They trickling down did feel. 

''Yield thee, Lord Percy,'' Douglas IIB.id ; 

"In faith I will thee bring 

Where thou shalt high advanoM be 

By James, our Scottish king: _ 

,. Thy rallllom I will freely give, 

And this report of thee, 

Thou art the moat courngeous knight 

That ever I did see." 

"N~ Doug!B.B," eAith Earl Percy then, 

"Thy proffer I do aeon ; 

I will not yield to any Scot 

That ever yet WB.B born." · 

With that there came an arrow keen 

Ont of an Ensllish bow, 

Which struck :&.rl DouglB.B to the heart, 

A deep and deadly blow : 

"Who never apake more words than these : 

.. Fight on, my merry men all ; 

FoT why 1 my life is at an end- 

Lord Percy sees my fAll." 

Then leaving life, Earl Percy took 

The dead man by the h.u1d i 

A.od said, 11 Earl DouglB.B, for thy life 

Would I bad lost my land. 

"Oh, Christ I my very heart doth bleed 

With aorrow for thy aake ; 

For sure a more redoubted knight 

Mischance did never take." 

A knight among the Soota there waa, 

Who aaw Earl Douglas die, 

Who straight in wrath did vow reve~~ge 

Upon the Earl Percy:

1M 

POIIIb or oBAli.Aar&&, ~ IUIIOZLl.Alii'I:OtiL 

Sir Hugh Mountgomery wu be call'.S. 

Who, with a ~ !all bri~~t! 

Well moUJlted Oil a galtaut ne«J, 

Ban fiercely th7oogh the fight; 

And put the ·EnglDh arcben all, 

Without a dreAd or fear; 

And through 'Earl Percy'• body then 

He thrust m..·h&teflll ~; 

With auab nhement force ~ma might 

He did his body g~m~ 

The atatr ran through the other lide 

A lara;e cki"UI·yard and more. 

So thua did both theee ·noblet die, 

Whoee courage DOne could ataiu : 

An .Engliah archer then ~vea 

The noble earl wa.a elaJb : 

He bd a bow- bent in hie band, 

Made of a truety tree ; 

An arrow of A cloth-yard long 

To the h-ard head haled be: 

Agaioat Sir Hul!b Mountgomery 

So right the shalt ~ Mt, 

The grey goose wing 'thl'.t wa1he.reon 

In hie heart's blood wu wet. 

This fight did ·wt from break--of-day 

Till letting of' fhe ann; 

For when they rung tbe·eYening-bell, 

The battle scaree '1BI done. 

With etout EArl 'Percy theJ"e were &in 

Sir John or E2erton, 

Sir Bobert:RateTifl',·aoR Sir Job~ 

Sir James, that bOld baron. 

And wlth Slr·George and stout Sir Jam81!, 

Both koigbta cif 6'ood -account, 

Good Sir Ralph Ra.'" tbere waa s'l&ln, 

Whose proweas ald earmo1JJlt. 

For Witherington. ~y heart ia wo 

That ever he 'lilA in ehottld 'be, 

For when nialega Wel'e hewn Ln:two, 

He belt and foaght on hie bee.

PO'I'Jl(8 OJ' ODAl!ACTER, AltO Jla!OZLLAMBOUII. 

3M 

And with El\rl Douglas there were alain 

Sir Hugh Mountgomery, 

Sir Charles Murray, that from t.he fiei.J 

Ooe foot would never 11ee. 

Sir ChArlee Murray of Rate~ ~. 

Hie sister's eon wu he; 

Sir DllYid Lt.mb, eo well ~m·~ 

:But aa:ved he oould AOt be. 

And tb& Lord M.o.xwellln like we 

Did with EArl Dooglaa die: 

Of twenty hundred Soottish Bpea.rlb 

Scarce fifty-five did Jly. 

Of fi&en hundred Engliahmen, 

Went home lint 6ft.y-tbree; 

The reat in Ohevy-Oh&ae were lllaiu, 

Under the greenwood tree. 

Next day did many widowa come, 

Their huebanda to bewail ; 

They wuh'd their wounds in briniah ~ara, 

:But all would not preva.il. 

Their bodiee, bathed In pu:rple Q.lood, 

They ,b01:0 with thom AWAJ' j 

They kias'd th!lm ~ead a. tholl.Und timet!, 

Ere they were clad in clay. 

The newa waa brought to Edinburgh. 

Where Scotland's king did reigo, 

The brave Earl tDonglaa audd.enly 

W aa with an urow slain: 

"Oh, heavy newa !"King J!'JJ;lea\tid •7• 

"Sootland can witneas be 

I han not any captain more 

Or such account aa be." 

Like ti~inga to Ki.o~t.HenrJ . Il&plAI 

Within u abort & apace, 

That Percy of Nortbumbe,r~ 

Was a lain in Chevy·Chaae: 

"Now God be with him," aaid ow king, 

"Since 'twill no better be; 

I trust 1 ht.ve within my realm 

Five hundred good as he:

~ PODS OJ' OHARAO'l'Blt, AND VlSCELLA,lllilOVS. 

"Yet shall not Scots or Scotland say 

Bnt I will vengeance take; 

I'll be revengi!d on them all, 

For brave Earl Percy's sake.'' 

This vow fall well the king perfonn'd 

After at Humbledown; 

In one day fifty k.nigbta were slain, 

With lords of high renown: 

Anll of the' rest, or 11wall account, 

Did many hundreds die; 

Thue endeth the hunting of Ohe'fY-ChMe, 

Made by the Earl Percy, 

God save the king, and bless this land, 

With plenty, joy, and peace ; 

And grant, henceforth, that foul debate 

'Twixt noblemen may cease. 

~n Oltt mt tgt Ol)lnhtg nf tbt «IJZ•tal falau in J!!ltc 

Jtttk, Ita!!, 1851. 

BUT yesterday a. naked sod, 

The dandies sueer'd from Rotten R ow, 

And canter'd o'er it to and fro ; 

• And eee 'tis dune I 

As though 'twere by a wiza-rd's rod 

A blazing arch of lucid g1&88 

Leapslilie a fountain from the gT'I\$8 

To meet the son I 

A auiet green but few days since, 

WiU! cattle browsing in the shA.de, 

.And here &l'e lines of bright arcade 

In order raised l 

A pl\l&.ee as for faity Prince, 

A raTe pavilion 1 such as man 

Saw never, since mankind began 

And bnilt and glazed !

1'01Ui8 0, CR.UU.CTXR, AlfD JltBL'ELL.tJUtoUS. 357 

.A. peaceful pla.ce it waa but now, 

And lo! within ita shining atrellta 

A multitude of nations meeta; 

A countl818 throng, 

Ieee beneath the crystal bow, 

And Gaul and German, Ruaa and Turk, 

Each with h1a nl4tive handiwork 

And busy tongue. 

I felL 11 thrill of' love nnd awe 

To mark the different gub of e&ch, 

The changing tongue, the various speech 

Together blttot. 

A thrill, methinks, like Ria who a.aw 

"All people dwelling upon earth 

Ptwiug our God with aolemn mirth 

And one con.eent." 

High aovereign, in your Royal atate, 

Captaina, ancl chiefs, a.nd councillora, 

Before the lofty pal&ee doore 

.Are open set ; 

Hueh I ere you pass the shining ga.te; 

Htlllh I ere the he&ving curta.in draws, 

And let the Royal pageaut pauae 

A moment yet. 

People a.nd prince a silence keep I 

Bow coronet and kingly crown, 

Helmet md plume, bow lowly down, 

The while the print, 

'Before the splendid portal atep, 

(Wbile .till the woodroua banquet atayt.) 

!'rom Heaven supreme a b1el!8iog praya 

Upon t htt feaat. 

Then on warda let the triumph march; 

Then let the loud Artillery roll, 

And trumpet! 1·ing, ud joy· bella toll, 

And pua the gat6. 

Pue underneath the ehining a.rcb, 

'Neath which the leat.fy elma are pen; 

Aeoend unto your throne, 0 Queen I 

And ~ke your ltatt .

Behold her in her Boyal place ; 

A gentle lady; and the )wad 

That sn.ya the eceptn or thw knd, 

How frail and weak I 

Soft w the voice, aud fair tbe race, 

She bre&thee amoa to p,_,.er Mid hymn; 

No wonder that her eyee an dim, 

And pale her cheek. 

Thie moment rotmd her empire's ebOI'91 

The winda of Austral wiuter sweep, 

Alld thou8&Dda lie in midnight eleep 

At rut to-day. 

0 I awful is that crown of yours, 

Queen of iwanmerable real.ma, 

Sittlng beneAth the bnddinsr elmi 

or :EDgliah May 

A wondroua aceptre 'ti.a to bear 

Strange my.tery at Ood' which eet 

Upon her brow yon eoronet.r- 

Tbe foremoltt crown 

Of aU the world, on one ao fair I 

That clloae her to it from her birth, 

And bado the sons of all tho earth 

To her bow dawn. 

The representatives of man 

Here from the far Antipodee, 

And from the subject !ndia.n ~ 

In Co~ ~Met.: 

From .A!ric and from Hind11atan, 

From Western continent and We, 

The onvoya of her empire pile 

~ at her feet. 

Our brethren croee the Atlantic tidee, 

Lo&dia« the gallant deok.a which oace 

Roared A defiance &o our gune, 

Wit.h ~ul a\ore; 

Symbol ofpe&ee, their v~uel r1dea! • 

O'er Engliah wavee Boat 8t&J"and Stripe, 

And firm their frludly anchor. gripe 

The father ahore! 

• Tho tr. 8. Dip~ SL w~

PODia 07 Cl'IIAUC%'0, ~D M:I.IICSI.L.U.Ot7S. ~ 

From Rlline and Danube, Rhone and Setne, 

.A. riven from their IIOlll'l:el gub, 

The awelling tooda of natioll8 ~ 

ADd aeaward pour: 

From eout to coaat in frieDdlr chabl, 

With coun,le• Uoipe we bridge the .u.it.., 

And angry oeeaD M~tn 

Europe no more. 

From :Mieaiesippi and from Nile 

From Baltic, Ganges-, ~o:ma, 

In England's ark a.embled tkus 

Are Criend and gueat. 

Look down the mighty sunlit aiale, 

And - the sumptuoas banquet .e&, 

The brotherhood o! nationa met 

.Around the feaat I 

.Along the dazzling colonnade, 

Far 11.11 the straining eye can gaze, 

Gleam croaa and fountain, bell and TUe, 

Jn •Wtaa bridat. 

And atatuei fll.ir of nymph and mll.id, 

And steeds and pards and Amazona, 

Writhing and grappling in the bronze, 

In endless light. 

To deck the glorioua roof and do.mt,. 

To make the Queen & canopy, 

The pet.eeful h0111.8 of in-dustry 

Their etandaU bear. 

Yon ate the worka of "&ah.m.iu loom. • 

On anch a web of PeraiaD thread 

The deaert Arab bowe hia head, 

And c:riea hie prayer. 

Look yonder when the engioe. W1 J 

Theee England'• anna of eonqolllt. ue, 

The trophiea of.her bloodka w.ar: 

Brave wel\pona theee. 

Vietorions over wave ud 110il, 

With theae aile aile, .be WtaTte, elae tills, 

Pieroee the everlaatiD! hilll 

.AJ:id ·~ the aau.

The engine roan upon ita raoe, 

The abu~tte whim along the woof. 

The people hum from fioor to roof 

With Babel tongue. 

Tbe fountain in the buin playa, 

The chanting organ echoet clear, 

.An awful chora.a 'tia to hear, 

. Awondrouaaongl 

Swell organ, swell, yon.r trumpet blut, 

March, Queen and Royal.Pa~eant, march 

By splendid aiale and apnn~g arch 

Of tb1s fair Hall : 

And eee I abon the fabrio nat, 

God'• boundlee~~ Heaven Ia bending blue, 

God'• peaceful eunlight 1 a beiUDi.ug through, 

.And ehines o'er all. 

TtuCURAT. 

ToLL for the brave ! 

The brave that are no morel 

All annk beneath tbe wave, 

Faat by their natin abore I 

Eigbt bundred of the bran, 

Whoee oourage lftjll wu tried ; 

Had made tbe vessel heel, 

And laid her on her Bide. 

.A land breeze shook tbe ehroude, 

And 1he waa ovenet ; 

Down went the Roylll George, 

With her crew all oomplete. 

Toll for the brave I 

·Brave Kempenfelt ia gone; 

Hia lut eea-fillht ia fought, 

Bja .work_ of glory done,

PODr8 OF C1IAIUOTER 1 .uiD JUII()IU.L&!IIIOU8. 361 

It waa not in the battle, 

No tempest gave the ahock ; 

She spl'II.Dg no (a"talleak, 

She l'8.D upon no rock. 

Ria sword was in ita sheath : 

Hia fingers held the pen, 

When Kempenfelt went down 

With t'Wice four hUDdred men. 

Weigh the veaael up, 

Once dreaded by om· foea l 

And mingle with our cup 

The tear that Engl&lld owee. 

Her timbers yet are sound, 

A.nd ehe may tloat again., 

Full-ebarged with Engl&Dd'a thunder. 

And plough the distant main. 

But KcmpenCelt is gone, 

Hie victoriea are o'er ; 

.And he and hill eight hundred 

Shall plough the wave no mor&. 

OoWPia. 

I 'I' wu the Duke of Normandy 

Rode forth at break o! day, 

With pennons curling on the breu.e 

In bright and proud array: 

Tbt~ t1ower of all the oontioent 

Compoaed hie valiant train ; 

The koigbt.e of FlandeN and Poictou, 

Bologne, Orleans, and !rl.&l.ne. 

It wu at ancient Pevenaey, 

On the noble Suaaes: cout., 

The bold Duke William landed 

With a fierce &nd warlike boat_ 

or aixty thousand gallant menl 

With aplendid .anna auppliB(J 

Crou-bowa and q uivers at their back, 

And broad·aworda by their aide.

882 POmfll 0., CWlRAC'UB, UD KISCltLt..uODOVS. 

To wiD fair Engla.nd'• glMiO'IZS crown, 

Duke lVillie.m ·rode that morn, 

With bat11le-ue, and spear, and d!U't, 

Wit.h B•l>nndlng d.l'um And boru, 

Nor long nor weary wuthe way 

They maarch'd ere ran of night, 

When, bl· t'he brave King HArold led, 

Came lhe rival host in eight I 

Then apalte the Dub of Nornumdy: 

:roma~ 07 CBAIU.O'l'D, .uD llteetLL.&lrSOU'&. 

Ere yet the purple morning hour 

lllumed the eaatet•n aky, 

The cla.ab of &t1IlB rang merrily 

With the stirring battle-cry. 

A. C&t&l shower of piercing aucf 

From the Norm&n croee-bowa tlew 1 

And many a vali&nt Kentiahman 

On the etormy onset slew I 

But awift to cloaer fi!{ht they roeh'd, 

And brisker warm d tbtl strife; 

A.n4 de&dlier the contention grew, 

Fiercer the thirst Cor life I 

BeneAth the bold adventu.rous duke 

'l"'uee fiery eteeda were alaio 1- 

Hia falchion waved the r'• 

Upon tll.at gory pl&ia 

Oo spurr'd the Sauna to the oha.rge. 

'While axe &Ild glaive ewept Car; 

And br&Tely smote they to the hilt, 

Like liooe bred to war I 

Full to the centre of their line 

The Nonnane felt the ahock; 

Yet stood they firm and etodfaetly, 

.A.a etanda the giant rock. 

Like lightning through the elementa 

A t.rencllant arrow 1l.ub'ct, 

And into Ha.rold'e royrJ br&l.a 

Tll.rough helm-a11d temple daall'd f 

He Mnk : yet to the death hie voiot 

w u heard in hoa.r&e OOIDDI.ftlld i 

And fien:elr graep'd, hie reeking blade 

Gle&m'd m hie red right hand I 

Then joyous ehoate of 'rictory 

Far ahook ~he circling air ; 

And helms were dotJ'd, and LAnnen Wllvt>d, 

And k:oe'eB. were benrled tbt>re I 

With-Liv~ long liTe the Cotlqu&ror ,_.... 

Did tboul&ll.d voices ring : 

God •ve Uluatriou• William, 

Our great, our glorious lclng I 

3'J3

TB.&u , .. t. aound or revelry by night, 

And Belgium's capital bAd gather'd then 

Her Bet.uty and her Cbinlry, and bright 

The la.mps shone o'er fair women and brave me~ ' 

A thousand hearts beat ht.ppily ; and when 

Muaie arose with ite voluptuous swell, 

Bof~ eyea look'd lovo to eyes which epake again, 

And all went merry u a marriag&-bell ; 

But huah! hark! a deep sound etrikealikea rillillg knell ! 

Did ye not hear itt-No; 'tyu but the wind, 

Or the car rattling o'er the atony at.reet; 

On with the dance I let joy be uocon1ined; 

No el&ep till morn, 'l!fhen Youth and Plea.sure meet 

To chue the gloYin.g Houn 'llfitb ftyiog fee~ 

But, bark !-thAt heavy aound breaka in once more, 

AI if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before I 

.Arm l Arm I it i..-itia-the cannon's opening roar! 

Within a wiudow'd niche of that high hall 

Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain ; be did hear 

That eoUDd the first amidet the festivAl, 

And caught ite tone with Death'• prophetic ear; 

And when they smiled becauee he deem'd it neat', 

Hie heart more troly ltnew tht.t peal too well 

Which etret.c:h'd bill father on a bloody bier, 

And roueed the vengeance blood Aloue could quell : 

!I& ruah'd into the field, and, forem011t fighting, fell 

Ah I then and there -waa hurrying to and fro, 

ADd gathering tean, and tremblinga of dietr-. 

ADd ebeeke all pale, whlob but ao hour ago 

Bluah'd at the praiee of their own lovelinees ; 

ADd there were eudden pa.rtlnge 1 euob u preae 

The life from out yoang "'h~ 1 IUid choking sigha 

Which ne'er might be repeate

And there waa mounting in hot haste : the atee.l, 

The mustering squadron, l\lld the clattering car, 

Went pouring forward with impetuoll8 epecd, 

And awiftly forming in the ranke of war; 

And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; 

And nea.r, the beat otthe alarming drum 

Roused up the eolclier ere the morniug star ; 

'While throng'd the oitizelUI with terror dumb, 

Or whispering, with white liP--" The foe ! They oomc! 

Uiey come I" 

And wild and high tbe "Oameron'egathering" t-ose! 

The wu-note ofLochiel, which Albyu'a billa 

Have beard, and heiU"d, too have her Sazon foes: 

How in the noon ofnight thd pibroch thrills, 

Bange and ahriU I But with the breath which tilla 

Their mountain-pipe, 110 Jill the mountaineers 

With the fieree native daring which instils 

The atining memory of a thousand years, 

And Eva.n'a, Donald's fame rings in each clanaman'a enra! 

And Ardennes waves above them her green leues, 

DAY with natnre'a tear-drops, aa they PNIII, 

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, 

Ovn the unretnroing brave,-ala.aJ 

Ere enning to be trodden like the gt'88S 

Which now beneath them, hut above a ball grow 

In it. nut verdure, when this fiery mass 

Ofliving v&lour 1 rolling on the foe 

And bnroing ...-ith high hope, shall moulder cold and low. 

Lut noon beheld them full of lusty life, 

Last eve in Beauty's circle J?l'Ondly gay, 

The midnight bro~{~~~~~e SJgnal-aound or strife, 

The morn the ma · gin arms,-the dl\y 

Battle'• magntiiceotly ... ttirn an-ay I 

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when reut 

Tbe earth ia covet•'d thick with other clay, 

Which her own elay shall cover, beap'd nod pent, 

Rider ud horse-friend, foe,-i.n one red burin! blent! 

HYRON,

I SPJUJrG to tbe stirrup, an•\ t ,.~ '• lit }1'(1 ; 

r pllop'd, Dlrclt gillop'd, ... ~.tllr.11'd n tJaNe; 

.. Good lpeed ! • cried the w.atl.!b, u Ulo pt~wtt.a attekew ; 

"Speed I" eeho'd the wall u. tl,e sNJ••t·l ••g • •l'b

PODIB o• CIUIU.O'I'ER., A.1CD ~US. 387 

So we were left galloping, Joris and l, 

Put Looz and paat Tong~ uo clond in the aky ; 

l'be broad aun above laUgb'd a pitllea lauah. 

'Neo.th our feet broke the brittle bright etuobl.eUke ohafr: 

Till over by Dalhem a domtHipire aprang white, 

And "Gallop," gup'd .Toria, •• for A.iJ:: ia In algllt J• 

"Ho" they'll greet ua I "-and all in a momaat hia roau, 

Roll'd neck and cro11p over, Jay dead u a atooe ; 

A.nri there was my Roland to beM" the whole weight 

Of the nowe which alone could eave A.ix from her fate, 

With his noatrilslik.e pita full of blood to the brim, 

And with circles of red for bia eye-eooket8' rim. 

Then I cut looee m7 bu~t, each holster let fall. 

Shook off both my Jllck-boot.s, let go belt and all, 

Stoorl op in the atirrup, lean'J, patted hia ear 

Call'd my Roland his pet-name. my horae wittout ~r; 

Clapp'd my banda, laugh'd and aang, An] noile, bM or 

Till at f:;tb into Aix Roland gnUop'd and atootl. 

And all I remember i~ ·rrieoaa fiooking round 

Aa I sate with bia head 'twixt my kneu on the poWld, 

And no voice but .was praiaiug ·thia .Boland of m&ne_ 

Aa I pour'd down hia 'broat.our lut meaaure of wlue, 

Which (the burge~~Jea voted by common con.aent) 

Waa no more than hia due wh.o broaght goo4 '11&1f11 from 

Ghent. 

:B&oWlmfo. 

tge ~~rrmt's1aat ~a:rr.qut. 

O'u a low eouch the H*f5ng sun bad thrown ita lAteet n.y, 

Where, in hi• !.an etronl(_agony, a dyi11g ~or J.y,- 

Tbe at~rn old Baron Ro~r, wbote tram.! bad ne'er beeD Jleo' 

By waatiog paiu, till time and toil i&t iron atr~ugt.b bad apent. 

"They come around me here, ana eay my days or life are o'~r, 

That I shall mo~tnt my noble et.eed and lead my band no more; 

Th~r come, and, to my beard, they dare to tell me now that I, 

Th~•r ownliego lor.l and m.aa.ter born, that 1-ha, ha I muat die. 

"Andwbat ia death? rvedared him of\ before the Paynim spear; 

Tbinlt yo be'a enter'd at my R&t&-haa come to aeek me here? 

I've met him, !Aced him, aeorn'd him, when '\he flab&..,..aa.mging 

bot;- 

ru try hia·mi&ht, ru bran hit power I defy, and fear him not!

"HoI eound the tocain from my tower, and 6re the culverin, 

Bid each retainer arm with speed; call every vassal in. 

Up with my banner on the wall-the banquet-board prepare- 

Throw wide the portal of my hall, and bring my armour there I" 

A hundted banda were bu.sy then; the banquet forth wuspread, 

And rung the heavy oaken door with many a martial tread; 

While from the rich dark tracery, along the vaulted wo.ll, 

Lights gleam'd on harneas, plume, &lid spear, o'er the proud old 

Gothic h.all. 

Fut hurrying throngb the outer gate, the mail'd retainers pour'd, 

On through the portal's frowning arch, and tbrong'd around the 

bo&ro. 

While at ita bead, within his dark, ca.rved, oaken chair of state, 

Arm'd cap-0.-pie, stem Rudiger, with girded falchion, sate. 

"Fill every beaker up, men !-pour forth the cheering wine I 

There's life and strength in everydrop,-thanksgiving t{) the vine! 

Are ye all there, my vusab true ?-mine eyes are waxing dim! 

Fill round, my tried and fearle•s one&, each goblet to the brim I 

"Ye're there, bnt yet I see you not !-draw forth each trusty 

sword, 

And let me bear your faitllfulsteel clnsb once around my b6ardl 

I bear it faintly: Londer yet I What clogs my heavy breath P 

Up, all l-and about for Rudiger, • Dui..AJfcB mrro DE.U'B I'" 

Bowl rang to bowl, steel clang'cl to steel, and rose a deafening 

cry, 

That made the torehes flare around, alld snook;:the flags on high: 

"Ho, cravens I do ye fear him? Slaveal Traitors I have ye flown? 

Ho, cowards! have ye let\ me to meet him here alone? 

"Bat J defy him !-let him come I" Down l'llD~ the m83sy cap, 

While from ita sheath the ready blade came fluh1ng balf-waytlp i 

And, with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on hi3 

bead, 

There, in hie dark, carved, oaken chair, old Rudiger sat-dead l 

ALBERT G. GREENS. 

t~e fa a ~is~tircgalt. 

MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbneBB paine 

My sense, aa though of hemlock I had drunk, 

Or emptied some dnll opiate to the drains 

O!!e minute paat, a.nd Lethe-wards had auuk: 

..

'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, 

But beiDg too happy in thy happiness- 

That thou, ligbt..wingM Dryad of the trees, 

In eome melodious plot 

Of beechen green, and shadows numberleu, 

SiDgeat of aummer in fuJI-throated ease. 

0 for a draught of vintage, that bath been 

Cool'd a long age iD the deep-delvM earth, 

Tuting (I{ FI

The gt"&M, the tbicbt, and the fruit--tree wild; 

White hawthorn, aDd tbe (1ait.obJ egWIW. ; 

J'ut.C&ding nolethlOYtr'd %:3, --; 

Aod mid-M.ay'a eldelt · · 

Tbe OO!tlillg muak-roee, full or dewy wiDe, 

Tbe IDIU'Ullll'OU haoJat of liee OQ ~'"ee. 

Darkling Ilia~o. i. and. for many a 'time 

I h&•e been n&lf in love witb · eaa~tul J)etttb, 

Qill'd him 10~ oamea in m.wy a mu.M rhyme, 

To tnke iot.o 'the air my qufe• breath; 

Now more than enr teems it ri~ to die, 

To cealle opon the midnight 1rith no pilh!, 

While thou art poo'ring forth thy110td abroad 

In .uch· all eCIItaay I 

Stm·wouldat thou sing, and I ban ean in nm 

Tb thy high TeiJiliem become a eod. 

Thou wut not boru for death, iaimortal "Bird'! 

No hungry genera tiona tMad thee ctc>'ltn; 

The Yoice I bear this p1L111iilg night ·wu beud 

1o anCient days by emperor and clown·: 

Perhaps the self-same song that ·found a ~tb 

Through the; sad :heart of Ruth, when sick lor liome, 

She stood in l.er.111 amid the alien ~rn ; 

The eame that on..Umea hath 

Charm'd magic cuement&, opening on the'f~ 

Of perilous seu, in faery Ianda forlorn. 

Forlorn I tile very word is like a bttll 

To t.oU me back from thee to my sole aeltl 

Adieu I the fancy cannot cheat 10 well 

A.a the is fam.ed to de), deceiving elf. 

Adieu I adieu I ·thy plainti'f'e anthem fr.dee 

Past the near mftdowa, oYer the a\ill·stream; 

Up the hill .. ide; and now 'tia buried deep 

In the oat ·yall!~~ea : 

WM it a .WOU, or a w • di'Mm 1 

Fled is that muaic.:-do w:ake or sleep 1 

Jt&4Tt,

t~t 'tiaantt •nh Jk& ,)iU, 

J'Jur a&me the lea or light, and •ir~ 

And then of darlmeee too : 

I had no .thought, no feeling-nOlle 

Among the·lltonea I stood a atone, 

And was~ acr.ree oo:neciot111 what I wilt, 

Aa ebrubt- oragw

372 POEKB Ol' OUJU..C'l'&R, Ali!II Jl18CXI.LUBOt18. 

And it wa.a come to love me when 

None lived to love me ao again, 

And cheering from my dungeon'• brin~ 

Bad brought me back to feel and think. 

I know not if it late were free, 

Or broke ita cage to JM;rch on mine, 

B!lt knowing well capt1vity, 

Sweet bird I I could not wish for thine J 

Or if it were, in winged guise, 

A vieit&nt from Paradiae ; 

For-Heaven forgive th&t thought ! the wbUe 

Which made me both to weel? And lllllile ; 

1 eometimee deem'd that it uught be 

M.y brother's soul come down to me ; 

But then at la.at away it flew, 

ADd then 'twa.a mortal-well I knew, 

For he would never thua hAve !own, 

And left me twioe eo doub9.' lone, 

Lone-u the cone within 1te shroud, 

Lone-as a solitary cloud. 

A single cloud on a sunny day, 

While all the rest ofbea'Ven i.e clear, 

A. frown upon the atmosphere, 

That hath no buaiileea to appear 

When skies are blue, a.nd earth ia gay. 

BTRox. 

en * «rtinttion Df * fnutiu 5~ 

ONOB did abe bold the gorgeous Eaat in fH ; 

And was the safeguard of theW eet: the worth 

Of Venice did not fall below her birth, 

Venice, the eldest child of Liberty. · 

She was a Maiden Cit.y, bright and free; 

No guile seduced, no fol'ee could violate; 

Alld, when she took unto herself a Mate, 

She must espouse the everla.ating Sea. 

And what if she bad seen those glories fade, 

Thoee titlee vanish, and that strength decay ; 

Yet eha.U some tribute of regret be paid 

Wben her long life hath reacb'd ite dual day: 

Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade 

Of that which onee wa.a grellt, ia paae'd a. way. 

WolU>8WoRTH.

JapPJ! it ~nglanb. 

HAPPY ia England ! I could be eoutent 

To aee n.o other verdure than ita own ; 

To feel no other bret:zes tbao are blt)wn 

Through ita tall woods with high romances blent; 

Yet do I eometime£1 feel a languishmcnt 

For akiea Itali~t and au inward groan 

To sit upon an AJ p as on a throne, 

.Anu half forget what world or worldling meant. 

HAppy ia England, ,sweet her artless daughters ; 

Enough thtdr simple lovelilleBB for me, 

Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging; 

Yet do I often wn.rmly burn to see 

Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing, 

Alld lloat wiLh them about the euminer waters. 

K EATS. 

lt!Z ~atift.t Jallb-6nb-Jigkf. 

Aot&u, ailieu I my native shore 

Fades o'er the watel'll blue ; 

The Night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, 

And ebrieks 1the wild aeamew. 

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea, 

We follow in hie dight: 

Farewell awhil·e to him and thee, 

My l.l.Ativo Lund-Good-Night I 

A few short hOI!lJ'B, and He will rise 

To give the nllorrow birth; 

And I shall hail the main and skies, 

Bot not my n.totber Earth. 

IH.Iterted ia my own good hall, 

Ita hearth ie desolate ; 

Wild weeds are gathering on tho wllll ; 

My dog howL3 at the gate. 

For ple&~~urea past I do not grieve, 

Nor perils ga•thering near; 

My greatest gri.ef ia, that I leave 

No thing thd elaima a ten.r. 

ADd now I'm in the world &.lone, 

Upon the wicle, wide ee& : 

But why should! I for others groan, 

When none 11rill aigh for me 1 

BYRoN.

I b-e 'od' • JD11U. 

TiltS iale and bouse are minet and I have V'ow'd 

Thee to be lady of the aolituae ; 

And I have fitted up some chambers there, 

Looking towards the golden Eastern air, 

And level with the living winds, which Bow 

Like wave. above the livinj( wavesl:ielow. 

I have aent boob and mua1c there, and 11ll 

Those inatrumente with which high spir~ t.a can 

The future from ite ci"adle, and tne past 

Out of ita grave and make the prl!Bent la'at 

In thought. and jop which sleep, but oa11not die, 

Foldlld within their own eternity. 

Our aimple life wants little, and trne tAste 

Hires not the pale drudge Luxury to waate 

The acene it would adorn, and therefore still 

Nature with all her children, hannta the hill. 

The rin~ove, in the eJUbowerlng ivy, yet 

Keeps up her Jove-lament, aud the owls ftit 

Round the evening• tower, and the young atara glance 

'Between th& ~uicli bats in their twilight d!lllce i 

The spotted deer b~k in the fresh moonlight 

Before our gate, and the 11low silent night 

Is meaaured by the pania of their callllaleep. 

Be thia our home. 

SaXLI.Xr .. 

en b.t looAinJ mto 'b'apmau' • Jomtt. 

Maca have I nat-ell'd in· the realms of gpfd, 

.And many goodly states· a.nd kingdoms eeeu; 

Bound tllJUll weatern islAnds have I been 

Which bards m fealty to Apollo hold. 

Oft of one wide e~nse he.d I been told 

That deep-brow'd Hotner·rutS"d aa hie demeaue: 

Yet did I never breathe ite pure smt~e 

Till I heard Chapman apeak out lou aad bold ; 

Then feU I like some W&tcliel' of the wee 

When a new planet-switU into hi& kea ; 

Or like stout, Corte a, • 'If~ with -a'• t!l!ea 

Ho etared at the P~d all bis 

Look'd at each other with a- wild aClrm.i,._ 

Sileot upon • peak iD Darieu. 

Ku.T!r. 

• lllaloQ' teqQlN l.b&l Wtllllo1114 r... tel4 ~

•~ ta tWt Wut llhdt. • 

0 WILD Weat Wind, thou br~ath of Aut11mn'a being, 

Thou, from whose uoae_,n pl:eael!ce the leaves deaa 

Are driven, like ghoeta from an enchanter B.eeing, 

Yellow 1 &lld blAck, and ~ale, and bectio red, 

Pesti.lence-11tricken multitudes; 0 thou, 

Who eharioteet to their dark wintry ~d 

The winged seeds, where they lie cold and lo~~r, 

Each like a eorpee within ita grave, until 

Thine uure aister of the spring shall blow 

Her clarion o'er the clreauii.o' earth, and. fill 

(Driving aweet buda like focke to feed in air) 

With living bueJI a11d odoW'I plain and hill: 

Wild Spirit, which art moving e.ver1 where~ 

DeJitroyer &nd preserver; hear, oh hear I 

Thou, on whoee atrea~ 'mid tbe at.eep tkJ't commotic>u, 

Looae clouds like earth a deC6yiog leavei are shed, 

Shook from the tans.le_d bougha o£1Uaveu •nd Q~. 

Angela of l'll.in ud J.ig.lltning: ·tllue ue apz'ad 

On the blue surface of t!Wle airy surge 

Like the bright hair uplifted from the head 

or aome fierce ?rfJeDad, .... eu. from t.J.I.e.dim vuge: 

Of the hori%on to the zenith' a h~tigbt, 

The locka of the approa.ching storm. Thou dirge 

Of the dying year, to which this closing night 

Will be the doom of a ftlt •pulohre, 

Vaulted with all thy congregated milfht 

Of vapoura, from whoae lolid atmoep"her. 

BlAck rain, and fire, and hail, will bunt: Oh, he&r 1 

Thou who didat waken froUl hia anlDlller clreallll 

The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, 

Lull'd by the coil of hia cryatnlline atrea!Blt, 

Beaide a pumice iale iD BaJe's bay,

376 l'OEXS o:r CIU&ACTBR 1 AlfD Kl8C&LL.UI'IWOS. 

And aaw in aleep old palaces and towers 

Quivering withiu the wave 1 s iotenser nay, 

All onrgrown with azore moee and Bowers 

8o aweet, the eenae fa iota picturiJlg them f Thou 

For "Whoee }ll•th the Atlautic'a level powers 

Cleave tbemaelves into ehaama, while tar below 

The sea-blooms and the oozy wooda, "Which "Wear 

Tbt aapleaa foliage of the ocean, know 

Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear, 

And tremble And despoil themaelvea : Oh, hear I 

If I "Were a dead learthon migbte.t bear ; 

U I were a awift cloud to fty "With thee ; 

A wave to pant beneath thy power, and ahllre 

The impulse of thy strength, only leaa free 

ThaD thou, 0 uocontl'Oll&ble I If even 

I were u in my boyhood, and could be 

The comrade of thy wandering. over hea•en, 

.A.e then, when to outstrip the skyey apeed 

Bearce aeew'd a vision, I would ne't~r have striven 

A.a thua with tbt~e in prayer in my aore need. 

Ob I lift me ae a wave, a leaf', a cloud I 

I fall upon the tbol'll8 of life I I bleed! 

A heavy weight of hours has cha.in'd and bow'd 

One too like thee : tameleaa 1 And ewif't, and proud. 

Make me thy lyre, even u the forest itt: 

What iC my lea vee are falling like ita owu I 

The tumult of thy mighty harmonies 

Will tAke from both a deep autumnal lone, 

Sweet, though in eadneaa. Be thou, apirit fter(M!, 

My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one I 

Drin my deatl thoughts over the univerae 

Like witber'd leaves, to quicken a new birth; 

And, by the incantation of thle verse, 

Scatter, ae from an unextiogui11h'd hearth, 

Ashes aod sparks, my wordS among mankind I 

"Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth 

The trumpet of a prophec7 I 0 wind, 

If Winwr cowea 1 can Sprmg bo far behind I 

BRELL&Y.

1'008 U~ CBA.aACTBR 1 .U:D MlSC&LLAli.IOtJB. 377 

~·it £0tl\t f 

Is it oome 1 they said on the banks of Nile, 

Who look'd for the world's long-promised day, 

And saw but the strife of Egypt's toil, 

With the desert's sands and the granite grey. 

From pyr~~.mid, temple, and treasured dead, 

We vainly ask for her wisdom'a plan; 

They tell of the slave and tyrant'& dread 

Yet there was hope when that day began. 

The Ohaldee came with his atnrry lore, 

That built up .Babylon's crown and creed; 

Alld briek~t Wt~re atamp'd on th"e Tigris shore 

With eigne which our sages scarce can read. 

From Ninua' temple and Nimrod'a tower 

The rule of the old East's empire apread 

Unreaaouing faith and uuqueation'd power- 

But atill-Ia it eome1 the watcher said. 

The ligllt of the Persian's worahipp'd ilame 

On &ncient bondage We splendour threw; 

And once on the West a aunt·iae came, 

When Greece to her Freedom's trust was true. 

With dreams to the utmost agee denr, 

With humnn gods and with godlike wen, 

No marvel the far-oft' day aeem'd near 

To eyes that look'd through her laurels then. 

The Roman conquer'd and revell'd, too, 

Till honour and faith and power were gone ; 

And deeper old Europe's da.rk.neaa grew, 

A.a wave after wave the Got!> came on. 

The gown was leaming, the award wa.e l&w, 

The people served in the oxen'satead; 

But eTer some gleam the watcher aaw, 

.And et'ermor&--Is it come 7 they aaid. 

Poet and seer that question caught 

Above the din of life's (oars and frets; 

It march'd with letters-it toil'd with tl1ou,ght, 

Through eoboola and creeds which the earth forgets~ 

And statesmen trifte, and priests deceive, 

And traden barter our worlds away; 

Yet hearts to that golden promi~e cleave, 

And atill, at times-Is it eome 1 they aay,

378 l'ODa OJ OJUUCDR, A:t.O ~u:,uao~ 

Tbe days of the nationa bear no trace 

Of all the annahine eo far fontold ; 

The cannon apeak.& in the Teacher's plAce 

The age ia wearr with work and ~old. • 

.And high hopes wttber, and memonea Yave, 

On heiU'tha and alt.&re the 1irea are dead ; 

nut that brave faith hath not lived in vain; 

And thia ia all that our wateher aaid. 

FIWIICBS Bao'WlJ. 

lttlrot.t 3hhta. 

b tholl would.at view fail- Velr01111 uight; 

Go viait it by the pale moonlight; 

For \he gay beama of lightaome day 

Gild but to Aout the ruina grey. 

When the broken a.rohea are black in lli«hi. 

And each ebt.ft.ed oriel glimmera white; 

When the cold light'• uncertain ahower 

Streama on the ruin'd central tower ; 

When bnttre111 and buttreea, alternately, 

Seem framed of ebon and ivory; 

When silver edges the imatfery, 

And the seroUs that teach thee to live and die ; 

When diat&nt Tweed is h,e&rd to rave, 

And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man'a grave, 

Then gC)-but go alone the whil&- 

Then Tiew St. David's ruin'd pile; 

And home returning, eoothly aweU', 

W u never aceae ao ud aztd taU! 

~oug #£tit 6art~·•pirit m smat. 

1M the awellil)g flood of lifet 

In the storm of action gomg, 

Up and down in end.lesa strife, 

Here and tlt.ere for ever lowing ; 

Mine ia birth, ud mine the grave, 

Ap Ocean of unending wave I 

Change on c:h&Dgea I uaume 

In life that tdo'W'S in lt&r azul clod, 

So work I at Time's raabiRg loom, 

Scorrr. 

And we&Ye the litriD« rol:le of~ I 

Tra11.Zaudfrom Go•h4. 

. :P~

«kc l11fPII d II~JU~, 

A PilfDAlUO ODJr. 

AW4~ &olian 111'8, •wake, 

.And give to rapture all thy trembliDg atriags. 

From Heliron's harmonioua apring. 

A thousand rilla their muy progreea take : 

The Ja.ughing ftowen1 that rouud them blow 

Drink life and fr~raJIOO aa they Bow. 

Now the rich stream of Music winda along 

Deep, majestic, smooth,. and stron~, 

Through verdant vales_ anti Oet-ea golden reign; 

Now rollin~ down the steep am.ain, 

Headlong, UI1petuous, see it pour: 

Tht~ rooks and nodding groves re-bellow to tlre roar. 

0 Sovereign of ihe Willing soul~ 

Parent of sweet and 110Iemu-breathing air11, 

Enchanting shell I the sullen Cares 

And frantic Paaaions hear thy sofL coutrol. 

On Tht-acia's billa t.be L1wd of War 

Ha.a curb'd the fuey o(hi. car. 

And dropt his thintyla.noe at thy cowwowd. 

Perching on the sceptred hand 

Of Jove, thy magic lulls the fea.ther'd kina 

With ruftled plumea, and ftaggillg wing: 

Qut>nch'd in d'ark cloud's of s\uw ber lie 

The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. 

Thee the voice, the dance, obey, 

Temper'd to thy warbled lay, 

O'er Idalia's velvet-green . 

The roey-crownM Loves are seen 

Oo. Cytherea's day, 

With a11tic Sport, and blue-eyed Plelli!UreS, 

Frisking l~ht in frolic measures; 

Now pUrBumg, now retreating, 

Now in circling troops they meet; 

To brisk notes in cailence beating 

Gl~ce their many-twinkling feet. 

Slow melting strains their Queen'a approach decla~ 

Where'er ehe turns the GI"aces nomage pay : 

With &nru~sublime that fl.o&t upon the &ir 

In gliding state she wins he;- eallY way: 

O'er her Wl\rm c.heek and rising bosom move 

The bloom of young Deaire and purple light of love. 

/

Yan'a feeble race what ilia aw&it! 

Labour, and Penury 1 

the 1 aeb of Pain, 

Dieeue, and Sorrow a weeping train, 

And Death, &lld refuge from the storma of FatAl! 

The food oomplaint, my eong, diaproTe 

And justify the laws of Jove. 

Sa.y, baa he given in vain the heavenly Muse f 

Njgbt and all her sickly dews, 

Her ape.ctree wan, and birds of boding cry 

He gives to range the dreary sky: 

Till down the eutern cliflil afa.r 

Hyperion's march they apy, and glittering ahA& of wat. 

In climes beyond the solar road 

Where ahaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 

The Muse baa bro~ the twilight gloom 

To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. 

And oft:. beneath the odorous shade 

Of Chill's boundless forests laid, 

She deigns to hear the Bllv&ge youth repeat 

In loose numbers wildly aweet 

Their fenther-einetured chiefs, and dtu~ky loves. 

Her track, where'er the Goddeaa rovee, 

Glory purane, .and generous Shame, 

Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy tlame. 

Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, 

Ialea, that crown th' lEgean deep, 

Fields that cool Ilissua laves 

Or where ~nder'e amber waves 

In lingering lab'rinths creep, 

R.ow do your tuneful echoes languish, 

Mute, but to the voice of anguish ! 

Where each old poetic mountain 

Inspiration breathed around; 

Every shade and hallow'd fountain 

Murmul''d deep a solemn sound: 

Till the aad Nine, in Greece's evil hour 

Left their Parnailllus for the Latlan phune. 

Alike they acorn the pomp of tyn.ut Power, 

.And coward Vice, t.bat revels in her ehaioa. 

When .Latium had her lofty spirit loat., 

They sought, 0 Albion I Dext, thy aea-encireled OOAIL

l'OIDIB or C.IIARACTEJI, 4lm .KliiCJtLLA~Il'& 381 

Far from the aun and summer-gale 

In thy ttreen lap was Nature's Darling laid, 

What tune, where lucid Avon stray'd, 

To him the mighty Mother did unnil 

Her awful face: the dauntleee Child 

Stretch'd forth hi.a little arma, and amile1l. 

This pencil t4ke (abo B&id), wboee colonra clear 

"Richly paint the vernal year: 

Thine, too, theae golden keye, immortal Boy I 

This can unlock the ptes of J oy; 

Of Horror that, and thrilling Fenra, 

Or ope the so.cred source of aympa.tbetic Tean. 

Nor aeeond He 1 

that rode sublime 

Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy 

The aecreta of the Abyss to spy : 

He piUIS'd the tlaming bounds of Place and TilJle : 

The living Throne, the eappbir&-bla.ze 

Where Ang11la tTemble while they gaze, 

He aaw; but blasted with exceaa or light, 

Cloeed hia eyes in endl- night. 

Behold where Dryden's leas preewnptuoaa car 

Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear 

Two coursers of ethereal race 

With neck.a in thunder clothed, and long~reaounding pace. 

Hark, hie banda the lyre explore I 

Bright-eyed .Fu.ncy, hovering o'er; 

Bcatten from bel' pic:tured urn 

Thoughts that breathe, and worda tbat bmu, 

But ah I 'ti.a heard no more-- 

01 Lyre divine, what daring Spirit 

Wakes thee now! Though be 1nherit 

Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, 

That the Thebe.n Eagle bear, 

Sailing with supreme dominion 

Through the azure deep of air: 

Yet oft before bi.a infant eyea would run 

Such forma as glitter in the "Muae'a ra1 

With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun; 

Yet ahall he mount, and keep his diat.ant way 

Beyond the lim ita of a vulgar fl4te, 

Beneath the Good how far-but w above the Gre:1t. 

Gl\Ar.

1\1 -~~··llflj lndioll. 

MoeT neet it ia '!lith u nuplift9a 4tYN 

To pace the ground, tf path there be or JI.One, 

While a fair region round the Traveller lies 

Which he forbean again to look upon·; 

Pleased rather with IIOme aon Hleal aoene, 

Tbe work of Fancy, or eome happy ~ne 

or meditation, alipping in 'between 

The beauty coming and the beauty gone.. 

-If Thought and Lo~e deaerl u1, from that day 

Let ue break off all commerce with .the Muse: 

With Thought an•l Love companions or our way 

. Whate'er the seDIIea take or m~y refuae,- 

The Mind'• internal heaven shall shed 'her dewa 

Of ioepiration ou the humblest lay. 

'\V OII.DSWOil'l'IL 

~Oitbu'• .fcaat. 

'TwA& at the royal feaet for Persia .won 

By Philip's -.arlike eon- 

Alon in awful state 

The ~odlike hero .ate 

On hi& imperial t.broo.o; 

His vali&rit peers were placed around, 

Their browe with roeee Uld wi' b ·m.~N bound, 

(So should desert in arma be arown:d}1 

The lovely Thais by hia 1ide 

&te like a blooming Eastern bride 

In B. ower of youth and beauty's pride : 

Happy, happy, happy peW- I . 

None but the brave, 

None but the brave, 

None but the braYe dttlel'ftll'the•mh-! 

Timotheue plaeed on hlgb, 

Amid the tuneful quite, 

Wltb fiyillg_'tingen-toueh'tf the'l.rre : 

'Phe trembling notes uoend the 1ky 

And heannly joys inlpire.

.POIDIB or CB:A..AAC'l'!Ut 1 Al'nl XU!C~US. 383 

The aoog began from J ove, 

Wbo left hie bl.ias!ul seats above 

Such is the power or mighty l~e ! 

A dragon's fiety form belied the sod ; 

Sublime on radiant spirea he rode 

When he to fair Olympia -pn~~t, 

A.od while he sought her enawy br'l!ut; 

Then round her slender w-aist be oUTl'd, 

And atamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of t.he 

world. 

-The listening crowd admiTe'the loft:y aound I 

A present deity 1 they about-around : 

A present deity I the -vaulted roofa rebound ! 

With raviah'd ears 

The monarch heara, 

Aesumee the god ; 

AB'ecta to nod, 

And aeema to ahake•the spheres. 

The praise of Bacchus then the aweet muaiaian lUng 

or Bacchus ever fair ani:! ever youns : 

The jolly god in triumph comea I 

Sound the tTUmpeta, beat the drums I 

Yluab'd with a purple, grace 

He shows hie honest face : 

Now give the hautboys breath ; he COJDee,.he comee! 

Baccbua, ever fair and yoUD)r, 

Drinkinf joya did flrat ordam ; 

Baccbua bleaainga are a treMure, 

Drinking ia the aoldier'e pleaaure ; 

Rich the tt'8&8ure, 

Sweet the pleunre, 

Sweet ia pleasure after pain. 

Sooth'd with the IIOJ1D.d, the·king gnw vain; 

Fought all biB battles o'er again, 

And thrice .be routed all hie foee, IUid .thrioe'he alew 

the .lain! 

The master a&w the m.W.neu rise, 

H ie glowing cheeks, hie ardent eyea ; 

And, while he Heaven·&Jld . .Earlh,dried, 

Changed hie band anll:aheck'd hi. pride. 

He chose a mourntul !rlaae 

Soft pity to·infae:

384 ;PODS OJ' CIU.li.A.CTZB, UD ~OL 

He ll'llng Darin a great and good, 

~ too enere a fate 

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, 

Fallen from hia high eetate, 

And weltering in bia blood ; 

Deeerted, at biB utmost need, 

By tboBe bia former bounty fed; 

On the b&re earth exposed he liee 

With not a friend to elot~e hit eyes. 

-With downcast look.a the joy lei~ victor aate, 

Revolvin~t in bia altered eonl 

Tho vmous turns of Chance below i 

And now and then a sigh he atole, 

And tears began to tlow. 

The mighty master smiled to eee 

That Lon was in the next degl"ee ; 

'TwAII but a kindred aouod to move, 

For Pity melts the mind to love. 

Bonty sweet, in Lydian me&~~ures 

Boon he soothed his soul to pleMurea. 

War, he aung, is toil and trouble, 

Honour but an empty bubble, 

Never ending, etill beginning; 

Fighting ati11 1 

and still destroying; 

If the world t>e worth thy winning, 

Think, 0 think, it worth enjoying: 

Lovely Thais site beside thee, 

Take the good the gods provide thee ! 

-The many rend the skies with loud applause; 

So Love was erowu'd., but M.uaic won t.he cause. 

The prioce 1 

un~ble to conceal b1s pain, 

Gn.zed on the fair 

Wbo caused his care, 

And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, 

Sigh'd and look'd, and eigh'd again: 

At length, with love and wino at once opprest, 

The vauquiah'd victor ea.nk. upon her breaat. 

Now strike the golden lyre apia : 

A louder yet, and yet a louder atrain ! 

Break hia bands of alaep asunder, 

Aud rouae him like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark I the horrid sound 

.Ha.s raised up his bead: 

Aa nwaked from the dead, 

.And amazed be stares around. 

Revenge, reYenge I Timotbeus c:rieiJ, 

See the Furies arise I 

Bee the snakes that they rear, 

How th11y biBB in their bah·, 

.And the sparkles that fia.ah frQm their eyes! 

Behold a ghastly band, 

Each a torch i.D. ilia hand l 

Those ue Greci:~.n gboata that in battle were alaiu 

.And unburied remain 

Inglorious on the plain : 

Give the vengeance due 

To the valiant crew I 

Behold how they toss their torches on high, 

How they ~int to the Pereiao abodes 

And glittenDg temple8 or their hostile gods. 

-The princes applaud with a furious joy: 

And the King seized a dam beau with zeal to destro~·; 

Thais lt~d the way 

To light him to his prey, 

AJld like another Helen fired auother Troy! 

-Thus, long ago, 

"Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, 

While org&ns yet were mute, 

Timotheus, to hia breathing ilute 

And sounding lyre, 

Coulcl awell the soul to rage, or kindle soft de8ire. 

At last dinne Cecilia came, 

Inveotreaa of the vocal frame; 

The aweet enthusiast from her sacred store 

Enlarged the former narrow bounds, 

A net added length to solemn sounda, 

With Nature's mother-wit, and a.rta unknown before. 

-Let old Timotheus yield the prize 

Or both divide the crown ; 

He raised a mortal to the skies, 

She drew an angel down ! 

D&TD£S. 

2o

5twmlmuu.c. 

WJU!f to the uaiona of sweet ai]ent thought 

I awnmon up remembrance of things put, 

I sigh the 1aek or many a thing I sought, 

And with old woea ne.-wail my dear time'a1f!Uile ; 

Then ca.n I drown an eye, unnaed to ilow, 

For precioua friends hid in death's dateleaa night, 

.6.nd weep a!reah love'a long .. ince-cancell'd woe, 

A.ud moaQ the expense of IDADY a vaniah'd Bight. 

Theil can I ~eve ·at grievancas foregone, 

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 

The sad account or fore-bemoanM moan, 

Which I new pay aa if not paid befOre : 

-But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, 

AUloeeea are reatored, and sorrows end. 

BB.AJtBIU'&AJIB. 

tb&IJ!.et. 

Tnu was a little lawny islet 

By anemone and violet, 

Like mosaic, paven: 

And ite roof was flowel'8 and leaves 

Which the summer's breath ellweavee, 

Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze, 

P ierce the pines and tallest tree1, 

Each a gem engravell. 

Girt b.v muy an azure wave 

With which the clouds aud mount&ina pa'fe 

A lake'a blue chasm. 

SaaLI.KT. 

~tilton. 

PoET of Pnradise, whose glory illumed 

My path of penury, till grew 

The deaert to a JPI'rden, and life bloom'd 

With hope and JOY, 'ruidat suffering-" honour du11" 

I cannot render thee ; but reverence true 

Thia heart shall give t.boe, till it reach the verge 

Where human splendoura lose their lustrous hue 1 

.And, when in death, my mortal joys all merge, 

Thy grand and gorgeoua music, Milton, be my dirge I 

0ooPSR.

SLUO~S return ; but not to me returus 

Day, or the sweet approach of even or ruo1·n, 

Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 

Or flocks or herds, or human face divine ; 

But cloud instead, a.nd ever-du1·ing da.rk 

Surrounds m'l, from. U:u~ cheAT(,, I w11.yA n( rnet1 

Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fail· 

Presented with a universal blank 

Of Nature's works to n1e expun~ed a.nd l'Ued. 

And wisdom at one entra.nce qutte shut out. 

So wuch the rather tbou, celestial light, 

Shine inward, and the mind through all heJ" powera 

Irradiate ; there pL"Ult eyes, all mist from thence 

Purge and disperse, that I mar &ee and tell, 

0£ things invisible to mortal Sight. 

MILTON. 

W JTB some good ten of hia chosen men, Bernardo hath appear'd 

Before them all in the palace ball, the lying King to beard; 

With cap in hand and eye on ground, he came in reverent guile, 

But e1·cr and anon he frowo'd, and flame broke from his eyea. 

" A cone upon thee," cries the King," who comeat.unbid to me; 

But what from tr&itor'i blood should spring aa•e traitors like 

to thee? 

Hi1 sire, lords, bad a. tl'&itor'a bean; percbll.tlce o11.r champion 

brue 

May think it 19ere a pioua pan to &bare Don Sancho's grav_e." 

•• Wboever told thia tale the King hath rashneu to repeat,,. 

Cries Bernard, "Here my gage I fling before TBE Lu.a'a feet! 

No treason waa in Sancho's blood-no stain in mine doth lie: 

Below the throne what knight will own the coward ~umnyt 

"Tbe bloollthat I like w•ter abed, when .Roland did adnnce, 

By a6Crtt traito111 hired and led, to make us ala•ec of France; 

The life of King Alphonso I &aved at Rooce&Yal- 

Yo~~.r worda, Lord King, are recompen•e ablllldant for ii all.

"Your hone wu dowu-your hope wu ftowu-I ~aw the 

falchion ahine, 

That eoon had drunk your royal blood, had I not ventured mine; 

But memory aoon of ae"ice done deserteth the ingrate; 

Yon'Ye thank'd the aon for life and crown by the fatber'a bloodf 

fate. 

"Y e Ill' ore upon your kingly faith to aet Don Snncho free; 

But, cU1'1e upon your paltering breath, theJigbt he ne'er did see; 

He died in dungeon cold and dim; by Alphonso's hue decree, 

And Tiaage blind and atiffen'd limb were all they gave to me. 

"The King that awervcth from hia word ha'b stain'd his purple 

blaclt· 

No Spanish lord will draw the a word behind a liar's back ; 

But noble Tengeauce aball be mine, an open bate I'll show 

The King bath injured Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe.'' 

" Seiae, aeit.e bim I" loud the King doth ecream: "There are 

a tbo1111and here I 

Lethia foul blood this instant atream:-What, e&itift'a, do ye 

fear? 

Seize, seiae the traitorl"-But not one to mo"~ a finger dareth: 

Bernardo atandeth by the throne, and calm h.ia sword he lillre1b. 

He drew tbe falchion from the aheat~ and held it up on high, 

.And all the ball waa still aa death ;-cnea Bernard" Here am 1- 

.And here ia the a word that O\vlls no lord, excepting hea~en and 

me· 

Fain W:,uld I know who dares hia point-lting, Condl!, or 

G.randee." 

Then to hia mouth the hom he drew-it bung below hia cloalr. 

Hia ten true men &be sigual knew, and through the ring they 

broke; 

With helm on head, and blade in hand, the ltnighta the circle 

brake, 

And baek the lordlings 'gau to stand, and the fal6e King to 

quake. 

.. Bat Bernard/' quoth Alphonso, " what means thia· warlike 

guiaeP 

Ye know fall well Ijested-ye lmow/onr worth I p,riae." 

Bnt Bel11&rd turn'd upon his heel, an smiling pue d away! 

Long rued Alphonso and hla realm the jesting of th.U day. 

Trwult:rttdfrom tht Sponid. 

LocKU.utT.

'It :ftlirlk. 

H.ABI'Jo: thee, nymph, and bring with t!Jee 

J..,at, and youUJful Jollity, 

Quipe, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 

N oda, aud becks, and wreathM emile a, 

Such as hang on Hebe'• cheek, 

A.nd love to live in dimple sleek; 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 

A.nd laughter holding both hie aictos. 

Come and trip it as you go 

On the light fantastic toe: 

And in thy right hand lead with thee 

The mountnin-nympb, sweet Liberty: 

A.nd, if I give thee honour due, 

Mirth, admit me of' thy crew, 

T o live with her, and live with thee, 

In unreprovfld ple3lluree Cree : 

To he&r the lark begin his ftight, 

And einging startle the dull night, 

From his watch-tower in the ekiee, 

Till the dappled dawn doth riee; 

Theu to come, in spite of sorrow, 

And at my window bid good-morrow, 

Through the awet~t brier or the vine 1 

Or the twisted eglantine : 

While the cock with lively din, 

Beattera the re&r of d:~rkne811 thin, 

And to· the stack, or tbe bam-door, 

Stoutly etruta his dames before ; 

on liat'ning how the bounds and hom 

Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 

From tbe aide of some bou nill, 

Throufth tbe high wood echoing shrill; 

Bomettmea walking not unseen 

Bf hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, 

Right against the eastern gate, 

Where the great sun begins his atate, 

Robed in &.mea, and amber light, 

Tbe clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 

While the P-loughman near at hand 

Whistles o er the furrow'd land, 

And the niilkmaid singeth blithe, 

A.nd the mower·wheta hie 1cythe,

And every shepherd tella hie tale, 

Under the hawthorn in the dale. 

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleaemel>, 

Whilst the lAndscape round it measures; 

Buuet lawne. and fallows grey, 

Wbere the nibbling ftocks do et.ray; 

Mountlline on wh011e barren breast 

The lAbouring clouds do often rest; 

MeAdows trim 'Vith daisies pied, 

Sh&J.low brooks, and rivera wide: 

Towere and battlementa it sees 

Bo.om'd high in tu!Wd treea. 

AN ODB FOB. KUSlC. 

.. 

Wmm Music, heavenly maid I WIUI young, 

Whlle yet in eal'ly Greece she sung, 

The Paeaions oft, to hear her shell, 

Tbrong'd &round her m~M: cell 1 

Exulting, trembling, ra.gmg," famting, 

Poaaeea'd beyond the Muae's painting; 

By turns they felt the glowing mind 

Dieturb'd, delighted, raised, refined ; 

Till once, 'tis said, -when all were .tire

PODS OJ' OIIARACl'ZR, A](l) Kt!ICB.l.LAlUOtl& 391 

With woeful meaaures Wa.n Dt~~pair 

Low sullen sounds biB pief be~ed ; 

A solemn, strange, and uungled aU'; 

'Twas B&d by uta, by start& 'twu wild. 

But thou, 0 Hope I with eyea so fair, 

What waa thy delighted meaaure t 

Still it whiaper'd promised pleaaure, 

And bade the lovely scenes at distance bail! 

Still would her touch the strain proloDg ; 

And from the rooks, the woods, tbe vale, 

She eall'd on Echo still through all the song; 

And, when her sweetest theme abe ohoae, 

A eon reaponeive voice 'INA beard at every oloee, 

And Rope enchanted smiled and waved her goldt~n hair. 

And longer had she StJng r-but with a frown 

Revenge impatient rose ; 

He threw his blood-iitain'd sword in thunder down ; 

And, wit.b a with'ring look, 

The war-denouncing trumpet took, 

And blew a blaat so loud and drelld, 

Were ne'er prophetic sounde so full of woe; 

And ever and anon be beat 

The don bling drl\m with furious heat ; 

And tboU,gh sometimes each dreary pau.e between, 

Dejected Pity at his side 

Her aoul·aubduiug voice applied, 

Yet still he kept bis wild nualter'd mien, 

While each Rtrain'd ball of sight aeem'd bursting from 

his head. 

Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fix'd; 

Sad proof of thy distressful state ; 

or diff"ring themes the veering song was mix'd j 

And now it courted Love, now raving call'd on Hate. 

'Vitb eyes upraised, aa one ioapired 1 

PAle Melancholy B&te retired; 

And from her wild aequeater'd eeat, 

In notes by distance made more sweet, 

Pour'd through the mellow horu her penain eoul, 

And duhing son from 'fOCka around, 

Bubbling runnelt join the eound; 

Through gladesandgloomst.hemingled meuures atole,

391! POIDIS OJ' CHAJU.CT&B, AND KIIIC.IILL.AtrJ:OUS. 

Or o'er 10me ha.unted streams with fond delny, 

.Bound an holy calm dift'oain~, 

Love of Peace, o.nd lonely mu8lng 1 

In hollow munnura died away. 

But oh I how alter'd waa ita sprgbtlier tone, 

When Cheerfuloeee, a nymph of healthiest hue, 

Her bow acroas her shoulder tl.uog, 

Her buakins llemm'd with morning dew, 

Blew o.n inspinng air, that dale and thicket rung, 

The hunter'• cal~ to Fawn and Dryad knowu! 

The oak-erown'd Siatera, and their chaate-eyed Qae~n, 

Satyn and Sylvan Boys, were aeen 

Peeping from forth their alleys green: 

Brown Exercise rejoiced to bear ; 

Aud Sport leap'd up, and seized his beeche-n spear • 

.Lut came Joy'• ecstatic trial: 

He, witn viny erowu advancing, 

First to the lively pipe hie hand addreBSt. ; 

But soon be snw the briak awakening viol, 

Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best ; 

They would llave thought who heard the str"in, 

The! saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, 

.Amtdat thf,l restal·sounding sllades, 

To some unwearied min11trel dancing, 

While, as his tl.ying lingers kisa'd the strings, 

Love framed with Mirth a gay fautaatie round : 

Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbow11J ; 

And ht>, amidst his frolic play, 

As if he would the charmmg air repay 1 

Shook thouaand odours from biB dewy W1ngs. 

0 Muaie I sphere-descended maid, 

Friend of"Ple&aure, Wisdom's aid! 

Why, goddeaa! why, to us denied, 

La.y'l!t thou thy ancient lyre &aide I 

As in that loved Athenian bower, 

Yoa learn'd an all-commanding power, 

Thy mimic soul, 0 nymph endear'd, 

Can well recall what then it heard ; 

Where is thy nlltiYe simple bea.rt, 

Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art t 

.Aria~ as in that elder time, 

Warm, energie, chaate, sublime t

Thy wooden in that godlike ageJ 

Fill thy recording Siater'a page 

Tie aa.id, and I beUe•e the t&le, 

Thy humblest reed could more prenil, 

Had more of strength, diviner r11ge, 

That all which charms this laggar·d age ; 

E'en all at oncEI together found, 

Cecilia's mingh•d world of eound,- 

0 bid oar vain endeavours ceue: 

Revive the just designs or Greece; 

Return in all thy aimple atate I 

Confirm the tales her eons relate I 

W. COLLUI8. 

L 

Or all the arte beneath the heaven, 

That man baa found, or God baa given, 

None urawa the soul so sweet away, 

Aa Music's mel:tir1g mystic lay; · 

Slight emblem of the bliss above, 

It soothes the 1apirit all to love. 

Hooo. 

0. 

Tlm painter's hues stand visible before us 

In power and beAuty; we cau trace the thoughta 

Which are the workings of the poet'• mind : 

But Music is a myateryJ and viewleaa 

E.-en when present, an illle88 man's aot, 

And leas within hie order; for the band 

That can call forth the tonelil yet cannot tell 

Whither they go, or if they iva or die 

When Boated once beyond his feeble ear; 

And then, aa if it ~'ere an unreal thing, 

The wind will eweup from the neglected atringa 

All rich a swell aa Elver miuatrel drew. 

L. E. L..umox.

In. 

Mr eoul is an enchAnted boat. 

Which, like a sleeping awan, doth float 

Upon the ailver wnes of thy sweet ainging ; 

And thine doth like an angel sit 

Beside the helm, conducting it, 

While all the winds with mt>lody are ringing. 

It seems to i!oat ever, for ever 

Upon that many winding river, 

Between mountoins, woods, abr-osca, 

A parndiae of wildero.eaees. 

BB.Kt.Lll:r. 

IV. 

0, LULL rne, lull me, charming air I 

My aensee rock with wonder sweet ! 

Like enow on wool thy fallinge are; 

Soft, like a lSpirit'e, are thy feet. 

Grief who need fear 

That hath an ear1 

Down let him lie, 

And t~lumliering die, 

Aod change his soul for harmony. 

v. 

EvER against eating ea.res 

Lap me in soft Lydian airs 

Married to immortal verse, 

Such aa the meeting soul may pierce 

In ootea, with many a winding bout 

Of link~d sweetness long drawn ont, 

With wnnton heed and giddy cunni.og, 

The melting voice through mazea running, 

Untwisting all the chaine that tie 

The hidden eon! of harmony ; 

Thnt Orpheus' self may heave bia bea.d 

From golden slumber, on a bed 

Of heap'd Elyaian flowers, and bear 

Such etraina as would have won the tar 

Ot Pluto, to have quite set frt>e 

Hie half-regain'd Eury

l,i(usit h)! Jl,ao~gt. 

Bow sweet the moonlight sleeps upon thia bank I 

Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 

Creep in our ears; aoft stillneaa and the night 

Become tb.e touches of sweet harmony. 

Sit, Jessica: look how the ftoor of heaveD 

Is thick inlaid with patines• of bt·ight gold ; 

There's not the smallest orb which thou beboldt>st, 

,But in his motion lib an angel sings, 

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim. 

Such ha.rmony ia in immortal souls; 

But, whilst thia muddy vesture of decay 

Doth grossly cloee it in, we cannot hear it. 

SnAXESPEARE, 

•11Th.en ~gt Df Jarm.o~. 

GoLDBN .Age of Harmony, 

Thou shalt from the Heaven descend, 

E&rth shall rise and welcome thee, 

Man to man lle angel-friend . 

.And the trumpets that blow when the battle's red star 

Whelms the wol'ld with ita blood M it bUl'l!ta from a.f!U' ; 

.And the bu~les that pt>al 

To the crossmg of steel, 

When the Demon of Wrath drives his scytbe-armM car, 

And the war-drums that roll 

In the shock of the battle, 

And the death-bells that toll 

O'er men slaughter'd like cattle ; 

And tbe death-cmitten eyes that look up to the sun, 

And see only the cannon-smoke darkling and dun; 

And the lips that in dying hurl curses at those 

Whom the Father made brethren, but evil made foes, 

And the groans of the woi]Jlded, the moans of the dying, 

The death-shot that scatters the ranks of the flying; 

rhe wild, fierce bu.rrab, when the Fratricide hoet 

Have driven their hrethren to Ha.dea red coast- 

They shall cease, they e.h.all cease, 

For the angel of peace 

Shall whiten the Earth, not with bones oftbe slain, 

Bu~ with flower& fol' the garland, and .sheaves for the wain. 

1IARRr8. 

• .t. cmall11at cllab, 1l.llld ID ~be l.dml.olatratlou of the EucharlaL

~n8ac!Ul of lla•k. 

Oua&lJB, with bia lute, made treea, 

And the mounlain-topa that freeze, 

Bow themeelvee when be did sing; 

To his mtJJJic plant& Nld ftowen 

Ever sprung--48 eun and ahowel"' 

There h&d made a la.ating spring. 

'J:very tbJng that beard blm pla.y, 

Even the billowa of the aea, 

Bung their heade, and then lay by. 

In sweet music ia such a.rt, 

Killing care and grief of heart 

Fall aaleep, or, hearing, die ! 

SB.AO:SPUB!t. 

BiUagr §tU•. 

Tans is in sonia a sympathy with aouuds 1 

.And as the mind is pit1:h'd the ear is pleased, 

With meltin~ airs or martial, brisk or grave; 

Some chord m unioon with wh~t wo hoar 

u touch'd withiu ue, and the heart replies. 

How soft the music of those village bells, 

Falling at interv11.ls upon the ear 

In cadence sweet, now dying all away, 

Now pealing loud ag,.in, and louder still, 

Clear and sonorous, 1

POBJIS OJ' OH.A.RAarJ!!~ ·~D JOSOIIILLil'llroUS, 397 

The human soul ia like a bnrge 

Afloat on Slumber's mystic ocean, 

That drifts into the heavenly marge, 

And sways to Life's enchanted motion. 

The huma.n soul ia li)te the tongue 

That tella ill aleeJ;l Life's bidden story, 

But wakes to hear 1ts music B1lDg 

By listening seraphs in their glory. 

HARRIS. 

Tma bt'eeze had sunk to rest, the noonday-sun was hiRh, 

And Ocean's breath lay motionless beneath a cloudleas sky. 

There was silence in the air, there wu silence in the deep; 

And ic seem'd aa though the burning calm were Nature's final 

sleep. 

The mid-day watch was set, beneath the blue of light, . 

When there came a cry from the tall mast-head, "A sail ! 11 

aail, in aight I" 

And o'et the fair horizon, a anowy apeck appear'd, 

And every eye waa stn.in'd to watch the "Yesselu abe near' d. 

There was no breath ·of air, yet she bounded on her way, 

And the dAncing wans around her prow were !la&hing into 

spray. 

She anawer'd not their hail, alongside aa she pua'd: 

There were none who trod her spacious deck ; not a scnm.1n 

on tho mast; 

No hand to guide her helm ; yet on she held her eonr•e, 

She swept along that wanleas sea, as with a tempest's force: 

A ailence as of death was o'er that vessel spread: 

She aeem'd a thing of another world, the world where dwell the 

dead. 

She pass'd away from sight., the deadly co.lm was o'er, 

.And the spell-bound ship pnraued her course before the breeze 

once more; 

And clouds across the 11ty obscured the nooud11.y sun, 

And the winds arose at the tempest's call be(oro ~he day w&$ 

done.

398 POBM.S OJ' CH.,II.ACTZa, .t.JIID Ml8CZLL..l1BOOS. 

Midnight-and at111 the atorm raged ~atbfully and loud, 

And deep in the trough of the bea-ring eea, labollr'd tbt" Teasel 

proud; 

There was darkness all e.ronnd, a ave wb~e lighto ing Baahealteen 

Play'd on the ueata of the broken wavea, &!ld lit the deptba 

between. 

Around her and below, the wa.ste or waten ro&r'd, 

~\nd anawer'd the cra.sll of tbe falling lll,$8tl as they cut them 

oYer board, 

At eTety billow's shock, her qo.i'fering timbers atrain; 

And u abe roae on a cre~ted waTe, that aLrange ship paaa'd 

again. 

And o'er that stormy aea ahe fiew before the gale, 

Yet she bad not 1tro.clt her ligbteet 1par, nor turl'd her lof\ieet 

nil. 

Another blinding lluh, and nearer yet she .-'d, 

And a pale blne ligM along her sai1a and o'er ber rigging 

gleam'd. 

But it show'd no aeaman'a form, no baud her colU'IIe to guide i 

And to their aignala of distreea, the wana alone replied. 

The Phantom Ship pus'd on, driven o'er her path leu way, 

Bot helplellsly the smiting \vreclt amid the brealtera lay. 

1'he angry tempest ceased, the winds were buah'd to 8le41P, 

And calm and bright the sun again shone oo.t upon the deep. 

But that gallant ship· DO more ab&ll roam the ooean free; 

She has reacb'd her final bi.TeD, beneath t.he d&rlt.blu\lle&. 

A,nd many a hardy aeaman, who fean nor atonn nor fighi 1 

Yet tremblee when tbe Phantom Ship driv.ee put bia watch cu 

night; 

For it augurs death and danger: It bodes a watery gra..-e, 

Wilh aea·weeda for bil pillow-for his shroud, the wandering 

wa"e. 

A. G. GAQ.llll. 

S.Dteg Df 1t tasian Jtw. 

T~EIUt's & bower of roaee by Bendemeer'a stream, 

.And the nightWgale singa .roUIJd it all the day long, 

In the time of my childhood 'twns like a sweet drea.m, 

To ait in t.he roeea a.nd heal" t.he bird' a song.

l'OB.MS 0., CILULI.Ul'KR, AND HI&CErt· UllrotrB. 3!)9 

That bower and its music, I never forget, 

But o~ wheu alone in the bloom of the year, 

I think- is the oi~htin~ale aingiug there yet t 

Are tho roeea still bnght by the calmBeodemeer. 

No the roeea aoon wither'd that hung o'er tbe wavE', 

But some blouowa were g&tber'd, while freshly they 

ehone, 

And a dew W&.R diatitl'd from their ftowers, tbat gave 

All the fragrance of summer, when aummer waa gone. 

Thus Memory drawa from itelight, ere it diea, 

An eaeeuce that breathes of it many a yelll"; 

Thus bright to my soul as 'twaa then to m)' eyes, 

Is that bower on the banka of the calm &udenleer I 

.M.oo&K. 

l:gc (Dtfagc.-~n ~ntDniiiDn. 

Y 18, there is holy pleasure in thine eye ! 

-The lovely cot.tage in the r.ardian noult 

Hath atirr'd thee deeply; w1th it. own dea.r brook. 

Ita own small paature, almoat itA 09Fll aky I 

But covet not the abotl&-0 do not eigh 

As many do repining while they loolt ; 

Intruder& who would tear from Nature'• Lr-ok 

This precious leaf with harsh impiety: 

-Thmk what the home would be if it were thine, 

Even thine, though few thy wants !-Roof, wiudow, door, 

The very flowers are sacred to the Poor, 

The roses to the porch which they entwine: 

Yea, all that now enchant. thel', from the dny 

On which it should be touch'd would melt away I 

WORDSWOBTB. 

~ri.tl'• ~ong.-~ ~tll ~lfDc. 

FULL fat~om five thy father liea; 

Of his bones are corn! made; 

Those pearl a that were hie eyea: 

Nothing of him that doth fade, 

But doth suffer a sea-change 

lrlto something rich aud strange. 

Sea-nympha hourly ring his kiteU: 

Hark I now I hear them--ding-dong bell. 

BlU1Ul>ull1t.

thoug~t. 

Tuovoll'l' ahillea from God u 11b.inee the morn ; 

LangU&jSe from kindling thought is born; 

The radaant J:onee o(.apace and time 

Unroll from out that speech sublime; 

Creation ia the picture word, 

The hieroglyph of Wisdom's Lord; 

Edens ou bliiaful Edeus riae 

To shape the Epic of the ski~ ; 

Heaven is the grand full-spoken thought 

Of Him by whom the worlds "Were wrought ; 

He, throued within the world above, 

lnapires that h~ven, that thought, with love. 

H.A.RJU8. 

P,. 

Tss book is completed, 

And cl01ed like the day; 

And the hand that has written 1t 

Lays it away. 

Dim grow ita fancies; 

Forgotten they lie ; 

Like coala in the ashes, 

They darken. and die. 

Song sinks into silence, 

The story is told ; 

The windows are darken'd, 

The hearthstone is cold. 

Darker and darker 

The black shadows fall ; 

Sleep and oblivion 

Reign over all 

LONGJ'ELLOW,

INDE~ 

OF WRITERS.

nmrs: or WlUDII& 

B.,__TIIe 61111 

The Oct&n -· ·- - 

., Ennhut un J...ake Lema.n 

" :Nifht 814rm on Lhe Alp• 

Ea•teMI T"'ili~bl ·- .•. -• 

lChtnl11lu 1t rbe Sl«-~ or Corinth ... ... 

u The Rutnaot'thr.Cull\eum by lloonlllht ·- 

.. To blt 8LJ~trt-lfom the lll&lne... ... _ 

Homan Lilt ... 

~~~\'!:.'~1~~:~.::~ :: 

Chllk>~ 

or- 

Tllo fftrotl 

-· 

nrThonm>rJie 

-· .. 

•• The .Prhloner .attd \he Rlrd · 

llf..r NaiLvt !A11d, Ovo

J:lftmXOI'WR~ 

DlrTDEl!-Chnl'llcl~r orVllllen, Dub or Botkln1ltAill 

" A 1t!"XRtldCr'! "Feutt ..• ••• ... ••• 

n .Mu;.tc 

J)wlQ&T-Uct!t - 

J"u.>

nrozx 0:1' WlUT1UIS. 

~,.._A "Place or NaUIII1 G'"" lbr Poeta IUA!o" 

T•• Auturon - 

To the )looll ~· _ 

., ~ re-nuArwuce or Beauty _ 

.. •·•m·r ·- - .... ... 

t::'K .. ~"n .. ~;;e aan-;· 34~rcl 

.,. oa~ to a !\ l ~~rhtlrur&lc ··~ ••• _ 

:: ~~PJ;::~c!~r.~·~~,·o cru.·~·UW)•; noW 

xa~~--l"t.:t~u~;;, c,;;o, ~:: :: : -· 

,. T~• lltal]t-bed or EIJ .. noth orHunPI:J' 

X:.ow~Tht'- uh.l f'~cHn ot s~rltz.erl...ati .... ·- 

Tell on Ultt lluuutalna 

LAifl>O:

tlmXX OF W1UTER8. 

405 

lll00a11, T.-~r1•m'a8oott... '" "' •• - 

,, b~. 't~~"L"'~ ~~[Light ar':\n :: ::: 

0 'f)tou who dry"at I he M..ou.rutr'a T!ar 

H 8•m1t nf A Pentau Maid .... .... - 

llou, fiAll:

la:u..n- O•Jbrat 

•• Nooo .._ 

.. " 

Tne swnJH ·- 

EYenlft.l - - 

Tile Wonlno M.- - ·~ _ - 

A Drcora or Wont..- ohMI~ed to SpnnJ - 

.-unsat wriUf'n 1n l)deetloo tteM .N~t.pltl 

The Wtnte-t Jloon _ _ _ _ 

l't11ltlc:.1t Ort•toe"' 

The l"'Mt.'t Home - 

() ••• 

~!~~~ n:~::~T!~~~~·~n\)~;.tfY··· •·• ·21t 

'l'D~T&Ox -·rn., M"Y Qaoe.n ••• ••• •.• ••• ... 

1116 

,, Frnm che ·•OJe on the Dee &A of Wt~tllt1Mt0ft ., ... ••• •.... 

'l'&LPOUIID-CI"J1(y •• ••• ,., .,; 111 

ill 

,. A Uount,.'& beet Dcft·nce ••• 

T•icnuT~~~~~.-"" u);' o.,;idu 1 .:;itho ~t)ey.~ rai;oo h.'ilrcio't>arii; 

'l'llollliOJI-Hymn':~~\,~~.: 

Tai~Ga~;;Itr~"tton :: .:: 

ah-araho u...4 ·~ 

~:~tt'::. ~1'~":~. 

VACOIWJ-lolnmln( tle'vollnn ... 

I v.Wi> ...... .J.~~:O~f! ~!~!:,~~ ... 

W•n?Oli-4\0N'O!Ich orl'prlnot - 

Wr.nHI.NII-Tho Heav~nty Jll"'me 

WU.tf~ubt.ut:l"t tl(a Luwly Mtnd 

.. Whitton llporU ... ·~ 

WUITMo.r..&-Tht Swn ••• ••• 

" The Orand Old Wond• 

•• Th• Ten 01\) 1e' Qu.een 

Warrn,aa-TIIo Over .. tteart _. 

wn:i.•o-A.,.'Z;~~hlp ::: 

..• 

wa:oo-3,!'~. 1 ~ ~~u:-~3~1-'ht 

Tloo r:nnlna Cloud 

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lli'D:U: OJ' WRI'l'BRB, 

Wo•-O'ItTR, s 1'rll"·'lllltdhom II. .d,.grio-F'atber, tho.a mlllt Lea4 

Wo&D:~woara. W.-Thti Wurfd It too much wltb ua -· ..• ..• 

u Tu a Snowdrop ..... ... ••• .... _ .,. 

:: ~~.~~~6.1f;;;://.celaD.~Ine :::. ... ... ... ·- 

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The Uroen Linnet ... ..... ... .... ... ... ..... 

Lin .. eomr..,.•d a flow mu .. """"" Tlnl.t~T, ou 

~1'lilthlK tho Dr~nU or tbe Wye ..... ... _ ..... 

Wrltl

INDEX OF FI RST LINES. 

A cloud lay endltd near the &l'ttlng e11n .,, 

A aood man w-u thtre ofrellgtoun ... . .• 

f &'~~ =~~1~ui:.:;:'¥fa'arol~: 4u~: an~.~eO: .. 

A mu.n 10 variou.a., thAt he Nem'd to be 

4 aensltlve plaut In A J!:An1tfl I(T'eW 

A tlo.r hult l'< tbo klnrtllna ety - 

A thfl!ll o• beauty t·t •Jvr toreY..r 

A tllout"nd mil~ rmm l•t1d ere we 

.A\JoYe, ~low, In sky Md ood 

Ac1teu. hdi~a! my ll & tl ~ e al&ore ... 

~7~~~ ~':~ 1 1~•,:;.:~~ watii'ntr ;;· 

Alao! tll•Y bad beeJlrrlwdo In )'outh ... _ ••• 

A llc!

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-bow, btnOI"' tile moonbum't fl!llle 

Bee-. IO•el wbat efl-.IOUJ 1trukl ••• _ ... • •• 

861, tho doy bt~lno to br.U ... ... ... •• ... 

8be dttd lu be.•u•y,like • rose b:own rrum ha parent l(ew 

Bhola1 a.nonatho n>Sr11 .. on tho cUa' 

She wu a pll•utom 01 de!IKbt ••• • •• 

Shed uo tear! 0 11Jed no t•arl ••• •.. • •• 

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tiJ-'IAke lUll we,U, In llm.-uac.e quaint and oldt:u 

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8,.etl day, 00 WO~ 10 Cal Ill, "" brhht ••• ••• 

&wert Rvtnb.tlf J1ourl Awett E'ft1tln1 hour H. 

Sweet t• the brutb o( Uon1, btt rtaw:; twete. 

Swett 11 t~o plca.uro 

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T11k& u.en. 0 l>eoth I and bur """'Y 

TaiiL unt or cem tJiet I Thtre lJ one 

Tell m• not. ln mournfUl uumbt\rt 

1'll,)'hll ltl oun, rte&~&nt l"no ... ... 

Tbe •"-1 tl o• ... rce·at .... ... ••• .... .... • .. 

R: :~id:. ~r"~fM~:~ ~~\~~ ~~~ Oll:..llllh~. 

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WttetatroneerbreutpiAie Uu•n a bun urtl111t1locU 

;~:~~~~b.!~~~~~:~ ;'~Tr~~~':~r..~~rt::: ::: 

\\'htn tTl' Ia f1Ufltlm~ clltrt.11CJ eave ••• • •• 

Wilen ftnt 1.11,1 eyfit uovelt, glva th1 IJ ttrol1& trmpt•Uon to t ht- ~rtnt 

Vt'htnt-e att thou.. nt•wt.·t7-) .. Nm bol7 li;roun4 

Wht re are the •••Ito...• .ftt d7 -· ••• ••• 

Wh!tc "Ut tHey ato~ lh~ \nuthtnx Po•u.ou 

••• 

••• 

••• 

... 

Who ftf'll 1hat Ood and Ht'&Yen'eare..t dtt:f'! are neare-r 

Who 1• he thAt cot.nc'UI, lik e. an honol.lr'4 gunt 

Wbo .,.,., we •~ cra•rn a nd OOid 1 ... ••• 

WhJ •n t hun •llcut t h LIJ.y ~ove a r:hwt · .•• 

Would I df'1Cr1he a t•r

A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

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