121 122 123 think on thy home, my soul! and think aright, DOTH W. DRUMMOND OTH then the world go thus, doth all thus move? are these your influences Powers above? ply like a feather tossed by storm and wind. why should best minds groan under most distress? Heavens! hinder, stop this fate; or grant a time THE ROSE W. DRUMMOND OOK, Delia, how we esteem the half-blown Rose, whilst yet her tender bud doth undisclose but straight her wide-blown pomp comes to decline; so fade the roses of those cheeks of thine! Then do not thou such treasure waste in vain; CA TO SLEEP S. DANIEL ARE-charmer sleep, son of the sable Night, brother to Death, in silent darkness born, relieve my languish, and restore the light, with dark forgetting of my care, return. 124 125 And let the day be time enough to mourn ART SWEET CONTENT S. DANIEL RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet in thy mind perplexed? Oh, punishment! dost thou laugh to see, how fools are vexed, canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Oh, punishment! then he, that patiently want's burden bears, no burden bears, but is a king, a king! Oh, sweet content! DEKKER AND HAUGHTON TO SLEEP OND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep! the very sweetest fancy culls or frames, like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone, 126 127 LONDON MDCCCII MILTON! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, have forfeited their ancient English dower of inward happiness. We are selfish men: O! raise us up, return to us again; and give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea, pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free; so didst thou travel on life's common way in cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart the lowliest duties on herself did lay. WHI SEPTEMBER 1815 W. WORDSWORTH HILE not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, in brightest sunshine bask; this nipping air, of bitter change, and bids the flowers beware; and whispers to the silent birds, ‘Prepare to Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry mid frost and snow, the instinctive joys of song, W. WORDSWORTH 128 ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD FOR NAPLES A TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, nor of the setting sun's pathetic light engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height: Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain for kindred Power departing from their sight: while Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, saddens his voice again, and yet again. Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows,' ye winds of Ocean, and the midland sea, wafting your charge to fair Parthenope. W. WORDSWORTH 129 130 ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC NCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; ONCE and was the safeguard of the west: the worth of Venice did not fall below her birth, SONNET W. WORDSWORTH NOT oil conflict, nor the wrecks of change, OT Love, not War, nor the tumultuous swell nor Duty, struggling with afflictions strange- 131 132 133 NOT ARION OT song, nor beauty, nor the wondrous power of the clear sky, nor stream, nor mountain-glen, nor the wide ocean, turn the hearts of men to love, nor give the world-embracing dower blest by chaste beauty, men have risen to blood, SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER EAR native brook! wild streamlet of the West! Dow many various-fated years have past, what happy, and what mournful hours, since last I skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breast, numbering its light leaps! yet so deep imprest sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny ray, but straight with all their tints thy waters rise, thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, and bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way, visions of childhood! oft have ye beguiled lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs: ah! that once more I were a careless child! S. T. COLERIDGE TO APRIL EMBLEM of life, see changeful April sail in varying vest along the shadowy skies, now bidding summer's softest zephyrs rise, and pouring from the cloud her sudden hail; then, smiling through the tear that dims her eyes, while Iris with her braid the welkin dyes, |