CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

How merrily the wedding bells rang on!

The parting guests mov'd homeward to the chime. Two hands were join'd whose hearts had long been

one;

And life look'd glad as Spring in rosy prime. And life renew'd, when this should all be done, Look'd brighter still-beyond the reach of time. Is it not sweet to think the bond of love, Contracted here, will yet endure above!

II.

"Look at my pretty wreath of roses!-white"Like those thou most didst love in days of yore... "I'll take a shawl-for 'tis a chilly night

"To throw across me till we reach the door...... "Look at my pearls-all fair, and pure, and bright!... "Say, dearest! am I not a bride all o'er ?"But happier far might we for eyer stay

“In those dear lonely scenes we left to-day !".....

III.

So speaks...but who?-Enough; she is a bride;
Her honey-moon is past to-day; and she

Has left yon Sea-girt Castle's lonely tide
To take her new place in society.

One month of love the bourn that could divide
Her being in two ages :-Light and free,
Whilom they saw her sport her childish life-
One month-she comes again-but comes a wife!

IV.

This seems the end of expectation.-Love

Has lured them on through all its flowery maze : They wed all seems attain'd: no more they rove At random cast on Life's uncertain ways: But other loves arise, and they behove

To bend to Love until their latest days: Fresh joys and cares enthrall them :-hopes that rise From Love's unfathom'd, boundless energies,

V.

Love, then, I sing-let Hope inspire my song.
Yea, proudest Hope! for deem not I would write
Did I not feel that impulse pure and strong
Impel me on and promise guerdon bright.
Why disavow the thought ?-Or right or wrong,
The hope that fills the poet's mind with light,
That makes him feel and every feeling tell,
My hope. Kind Heaven, do not that hope dispel!

VI.

Oh, thou, who first didst fire it, Source of Good!
To thee I offer mine adventurous strain;
Illume it, thou, o'er Time's absorbing flood,
Bright guiding star to ports it hopes to gain!
By thee my purpose will be understood;

To thee I pray-be not that prayer in vain!
Do thou inspire my song-for thee alone
Its numbers swell-nor other muse will own!

VII.

Near the full stream of Magd'len's shady wood,
A youthful gownsman paced; while high the sun
In bright effulgence all triumphant rode.

Slowly he moved; and now he paused upon
That spot where, pictured in the glassy flood,
The summit of the tower all mildly shone
In liquid colours. Here he mused beguiled
By the soft scene, and, faintly sighing, smiled.

VIII.

Well might he smile; for to the feeling heart
That scene has charms that grace no other scene.
The still and sultry day was formed to impart
Its calmness to his breast. Beyond the screen
Of lofty elms to which the quivering start

Of sportive birds alone gave life, were seen
The aspiring towers of that monastic town
Which, save with smiles or sighs, few look upon.

IX.

And Rathlyn sighed as, turning from the stream,
More swiftly he resumed his homeward way
With checker'd thoughts communing :-"Thus the
dream

Of my dull life is gilded by the ray

Of hope:-hope sheds one far reflected beam

Of light across its sameness! Month of May, How I could bless thy budding charms divineBless thee with youthful joy !......But why repine ?

X.

"Aye, why repine? The wish'd for hour will come.
And yet, at times, a drooping feeling quells
Each buoyant hope, and thought of deathly gloom
At times this youthful energy dispels.

Still on my cheek spreads this bright hectic bloom.
Oh, could I tread once more my native dells,
There is a buoyancy of heart......but no,
Dear Lena, this-all-gladly I forego!"

XI.

Then Rathlyn with another sigh returned
To his dull rooms in that monastic pile.
And on his hectic cheek, more deeply burned
The crimson spot that mocked his gentle smile.
Yet gladly were the sweets of summer spurned
And all the manly sports that should beguile
Proud eager youth; and gladly in his rooms
Once more his eager spirit he entombs.

XII.

For other hope was his. Within his breast,
A fairy dream of promised blisses lived;
A sweet ethereal essence all comprest

From one pure flower and in his bosom hived.
Yet must his buoyant feelings be represt;
Collegiate honours must be won-and grieved
He lingering over dreams of future joy-
Which yet to win was now his sole employ.

XIII.

Thus Oxford sees him pass that cheerful spring Which, brightening all around, smiles not for him.

The varying season to his heart can bring

Nor change nor solace. Winter's daylight dim Had pained him not; and though the chirpers sing Their early carol on the branches slim

That now put forth their leaves-the fleeting year To him must one sad lengthened dream appear.

XIV.

But Lena smiles beyond like the bright sun
That forms a vista through that leafy arch.
To her, he tends to her, he labours on

Despite the searing thirst that comes to parch
His giddy brain ;-for her, each honour won

Is space achiev'd on his mind's dreary march To......he knows not; an honoured nothingness, The bourne ere Lena may his labours bless.

XV.

Thus the fourth spring for him now vainly smiles,
But brings fair promise of success-the sole
Fond hope that now his drooping frame beguiles.
Oh, senseless race to a more senseless goal!
How long will pedants in these stirring isles
Clog the free mind with antiquated school?
How long will man give up his youth's best years
To musty tomes the world no more reveres?

XVI.

In times of yore monastic Oxford well

Might boast its sainted piles and reverence claim. Her learned clerks could then alone dispel

The lowering clouds: mid them alone the flame, The ethereal flame of mind, could honoured dwell. From priests and studious monks, triumphant came The treasured ray that could mankind illume; Around them, all was ignorance and gloom.

XVII.

But now when this is all reversed-when all
The outward world has its more modern school
Of fruitful studies; when the printer's stall
Groans with the varying pages that must rule