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I hear it still— Depart, (it cries ;)
No tribute bear to shades unblest : Know, here a bloody Druid lies,
Who was not nurs'd at Nature's breast.
• Associate he with demons dire,
O'er human victims held the knife, And pleas'd to see the babe expire,
Smil'd grimly o'er its quivering life.
• Behold his crimson-streaming hand
Erect ;—his dark, fix'd, murderous eye;' In the dim cave I saw him stand;
And my heart died—I felt it die.
I see him still-Dost thou not see
The haggard eye-ball's hollow glare? And gleams of wild ferocity
Dart through the sable shade of hair ;
What meagre form behind him moves,
With eye that rues the’ invading day ; And wrinkled aspect wan, that proves
The mind to pale remorse a prey ?
What wretched-Hark—the voice replies,
• Boy, bear these idle honours hence ! For, here a guilty hermit lies,
Untrue to Nature, Virtue, Sense.
Though Nature lent him powers to aid
The moral cause, the mutual weal ; Those powers he sunk in this dim shade,
The desperate suicide of zeal.
Go, teach the drone of saintly haunts,
Whose cell's the sepulchre of time; Though many a holy hymn he chaunts,
His life is one continued crime.
• And bear them hence, the plant, the flcwer ;
No symbols those of systems vain ! They have the duties of their hour; Some bird, some insect to sustain.'
THE HAPPY VILLAGER.
Virtue dwells in Arden's vale;
There, the golden smiles of morn
In his hospitable cell,
ON MY MOTHER.
Ah, scenes belov'd! ah, conscious shades,
That wave these parent-vales along !
Teach your wild echoes to complain
For her I mourn,
For her bewail these strains of woe,
For her these filial sorrows flow,
With all a parent's pious fears,
Careful, she mark'd each dangerous way,
Where Youth's unwary footsteps stray:
Where sacred truth, and reason guide,
Lamented goodness ! yet I see
She bends its tearful orb on me,
And heaves the tender sigh:
And for her children feels again
O best of parents ! let me pour
There early strew the vernal flower,
Alas! are these the only meed
Of each kind thought, each virtuous deed, These fruitless offerings that embalm the dead?
Then, fairy-featur'd Hope, forbear--
No more thy fond illusions spread ;
Thy visionary prospects filed;
Love, gratitude, and duty mingled tears,
Nor hopeful more to soothe her long-declining years.
Ask what is human life—the sage replies,