them at large, the young student should come with a mind well fortified in a sound philosophy of morals, and thoroughly grounded in the Christian faith. Weak and inexperienced minds, are prone to be led astray by the plausible and the pleasureable; and it must never be forgotten, that our bad passions and tyrant propensities, are on the side of the scoffer at virtue. In the works of Lord Byron, will be found all that a young libertine should rejoice at, and all that the good man will deplore. To him, however, who has a mind well prepared by Christian Philosophy, and who understands human nature, and looks forward to the mind's ultimate destiny, the works of this author will afford food for much contemplation and serious thinking. But to the vain, the vicious, and the weak in intellect, they will prove a serious stumblingblock, both in their worldly and spiritual progress.] EXTRACTS FROM CHILDE HAROLD. LXXII. I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me; and to me Classed among creatures, when the soul can flee, LXXIII. And thus I am absorbed, and this is life, I look upon the peopled desert past, As on a place of agony and strife; Where for some sin, to sorrow I was cast, To act and suffer, but remount at last With a fresh pinion; which I feel to spring, Though young, yet waxing vigorous, as the blast Which it would cope with, on delighted wing, Spurning the clay-cold bonds which round our being cling. LXXIV. And when at length, the mind shall be all free From what it hates in this degraded form, 'Reft of its carnal life, save what shall be Existent happier in the fly and worm, When elements to elements comform, And dust is as it should be; shall I not Feel all I see less dazzling, but more warm! The bodiless thought? the spirit of each spot? Of which, even now, I share at times the immortal lot? LXXV. Are not the mountains, waves, and skies a part Is not the love of these deep in my heart With a pure passion? should I not contemn Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not glow. LXXXVIII. Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you: for ye are A beauty and a mystery; and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star. LXXXIX. All heaven and earth are still, though not in sleep, And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep ;- Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, Of that which is of all Creator and defence. XC. Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are LEAST alone; A truth which through our being then doth melt, The soul and source of music, which makes known Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone, Binding all things with beauty; 'twould disarm The spectre death, had he substantial power to harm. X XCI. Not vainly did the early Persian make With nature's realms of worship, earth and air, XCII. The sky is changed!—and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness; ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Leaps the live thunder. Not from one lone cloud, XCIII. And this is in the night :-Most glorious night! A portion of the tempest, and of thee! Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, CLXXVIII. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, By the deep sea, and music in its roar : What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. CLXXIX. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean,-roll. Stops with the shore: upon the watery plain He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, CLXXX. His steps are not upon thy paths,-thy fields And shake him from thee: the vile strength he wields Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him shivering in thy playful spray, And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth :-there let him lay. CLXXXI. The armaments which thunder-strike the walls And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathians, whose huge ribs make Their clay-creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war: These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar CLXXXII. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee,– Has dried up realms to deserts :-not so thou, CLXXXIII. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Calm or convuls'd,-in breeze, or gale, or storm, Dark, heaving:-boundless, endless, and sublime,- Of the invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone CLXXXIV. And I have loved thee, ocean! and my joy Made them a terror,-'twas a pleasing fear, And trusted to thy billows far and near, MANFRED'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN. Glorious orb the idol Of early nature and the vigorous race Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons More beautiful than they, which did draw down The erring spirits who can ne'er return. Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere The mystery of thy making was revealed! Thou earliest minister of the Almighty, Which gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts And representative of the Unknown,― Who chose thee for his shadow? Thou chief star! And hearts of all who walk within thy rays! |