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The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It rrach'd the ship, it split the bay;
Tbe ship went down like lend.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drown'd,

My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

I'pon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

I look the oars: the Pilot's boy,

Mho now doth crazy go,

Uughed loud and long, and all the while

His eyes went to and fro.

Ha! ha! quoth he, full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.

And now, all in my own countree.

I stood on the Grm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,

And scarcely lie could stand.

0 shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
The Hermit cross'd his brow.

Say quick, quoth he, I bid thee say—
W hat manner of man art thou?

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left ine free.

s'n<-e then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
Asa" till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

{ P»m, like night, from land to land;

1 have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,

I Inow the man that must hear me:
To him my talc I teach.

What lond uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there;

"ut in the garden-bower the bride

'nd bride-maids singing are;

And hark the little vesper-bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer!

O wedding-guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the mnrriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!—

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and bnbes, and loving friends.

And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding-guest!
He prayeth well, who lovcth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the wedding-guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man.
He rose the morrow morn.

ODE ON THE DEPARTING YEAR.

Composed on the 24th, 25th, and 26th dsy of Day ceiuber 1796; and first published on the last day of that year.

Spirit who aweepest the wild Harp of

Time!

It is most hard, with an untroubled ear
Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear!
Yet, mine eye fixt on Heaven's unchanging

clime.
Long had I listened, free from mortal fear,
With inward stillness and submitted mind;
When lo! its folds far waving on the wind,
I saw the train of the Dkpartinc Ykar!
Starting from my silent sadness
Then with no unholy madness,
Ere yet the enter'd cloud foreclns'd my sight,
I rais'd th' impetuous song, and solemnized

his flight.

Hither, from the recent Tomb,
From the Prison's direr gloom,
From Distemper's midnight anguish;
And thence, where Poverty doth waste and
languish;

Or where, his two bright torches blending;,

Love illumines Manhood's ina/.c;

Or where o'er eradlcd infants bending

Hope has ftVd her wishful gaze.

Hither, in perplexed dance,

Ye Woes! ye young-eyed Joys! advance!

By Time's wild linrp, and by the hand

Whose indefatigable sweep

Raises it's fateful strings from sleep,

I bid you haute, a mixt tumultuous band!

From every private bower,

And each domestic hearth,

Haste for one solemn hour;

And with a loud and yet a louder voice

O'er Nature struggling in portentous birth,

Weep and rejoice!

Still echoes the dread Name, that o'er the

earth Let slip the storm, and woke the brood of

Hell. And now ndvancc in saintly Jubilee Justice and Truth! They too have heard

thy spell, They too obey thy name, divincst Lidebty!

I mark'd Ambition in his war-array!

I heard the mailed Monarch's troublous

cry— Ah ! wherefore docs the Northern Conqueress

stny'( Groans not her chariot on it's onward way? Fly, mailed Monarch, fly! Stunn'd by Death's twice mortal mace, No more on Murder's lurid fnce Th' insatiate hag shall glote with drunken

eye! Manes of th' iinnumber'd slain! Ye that gaRp'd on Warsaw's plain! Ye that erst at Ismail's tower, When human ruin choak'd the streams, Fell in conquest's glutted hour, Mid women's shrieks and infants' screams! Spirits of the uncoflin'd slain, Sudden blasts of triumph swelling, Oft, at night, in misty train, Rush around her narrow dwelling! The exterminating fiend is fled— (Foul her life and dark her doom) Mighty armies of the dead, Dance like death-fires round her tomb! Then with prophetic song relate. Each some tyrant-murderer's fate!

Departing Year! 'twas on no earthly shore My soul beheld thy vision! Where alone, Voiceless and stern, before the cloudy throne. Aye Memory sits: thy robe inscrib'd with

gore, With many nn unimaginable groan 'Mum storiedst thy sad hours! Silence

ensued, Deep silence o'er th' ethereal mnltitude, Whose locks with wreaths, whose wreaths

with glories shone.

Then, his eye wild ardours glancing,

From the choired Gods advancing,

The Spirit of the Earth made reverence

meet, And stood up,beautif ul,before the cloudy seat.

Throughout the blissful throng,

Ilush'd were harp and song:

Till wheeling round the throne the Lampads

seven, (The mystic Words of Heaven) Permissive signal make; The fervent Spirit bow'd, then spread his

wings nnd spake: Thou in stormy blackness throning Love and uncreated Light, By the Earth's unsolaced groaning, Seize thy terrors, Arm of might! By Peace, with proflcr'd insult scar'd, Masked Hate and envying Scorn! By Years of Havoc yet unborn! And Hunger's bosom to the frost-winds bared! But chief by Afric's wrongs, Strange, horrible, and foul! By what deep guilt belongs To the denf Synod, full of gifts and lies! By Wealth's insensate laugh! by Torture's

howl! Avenger, rise!

For ever shnll the thankless Island scowl. Her quiver full, and with unbroken bow? Speak! from thy storm-black heaven oh

speak aloud! And on the darkling foe Open thine eye of fire from some uncertain

cloud! O dart the flash! O rise and deal the blow! The Past to thee, to thee the Future cries! Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans

below! Rise, God of Nature! rise.

The voice had ceased, the vision fled;
Yet still I gasp'd and reel'd with dread.
And ever, when the dream of night
Renews the phantom to my sight.
Cold sweat-drops gather on my limbs;
My ears throb hot; my eye-balls start;
My brain with horrid tumult swims;
Wild is the tempest of my heart;
And my thick nnd struggling breath
Imitates the toil of Death!
No stranger agony confounds
The Soldier on the war-field spread,
When all forcdonc with toil and wounds-
Death-like he dozes among heaps of dead!
(The strife is o'er, the day-light fled.
And the night-wind clamours hoarse!
See! the starting wretch's head
Lies pillow'd on a brother's corse!)

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Thy vallics, fair Iir Eden's bowers,
Glitter green with sunny showers;
Thy grassy uplands' gentle swell*
Echo to the bleat of llorks;
(Those grassy hills, those glitt'ring dells
Proudly ramparted with rocks')
And Ocean 'mid his uproar wild
.Sprats safety to his Island-child!
Hence, for many a fearless age,
Has social Quiet lov'd thy shore;
Nor ever proud Invader's rage
Or sack'd thy towers, or stain'd thy fields
with gore.

Ahiindon'd of Heaven! road Avarice thy

guide, At cowardly distance, yet kindling with

pride— Mid thy herds and thy corn-fields secure

thou hast stood, And join'd the wild yelling of Famine and

Blood! The nations curse thee, and with eager

wond'ring Shall hear Destruction, like a vulture,

scream! Strange-eyed Destbuctios! who with many

a dream Of central fires thro'nether seas upthnnd'ring Soothes her fierce solitude; yet as she lies By livid fount, or red volcanic stream, 1/ ever to her lidless dragon-eyes, 0 Albion! thy predestin'd ruins rise, The fiend-ling on her perilous couch doth leap, Mattering distemper'd triumph in her charmed sleep.

Away, my soul, away!

In lain, in vain the Birds of warningsing—

And hark! I hear the famish'd brood of prey

'lap their lank pennons on the groaning wind!

■l*ay, my soul, away!

I nnpartaking of the evil thing,

With daily prayer and daily toil

Soliciting for food my scanty soil,

Have wailed my country with a loud Lament.

Now I recenter my immortal mind

In the deep sabbath of meek self-content;

Cleans'd from the vaporous passions that

bedim God's Image, sister of the Seraphim.

FRANCE.

Vs Clouds! Ill at far above mc float and

pause, Whose pathless march no mortal may

controul! Ve Ocean-Waves! that, whercsoe'er yo roll,

Yield homage only to eternal laws!

Ye Woods! that listen to the night-birds'

singing, Midway the smooth and perilous slope

rcclin'd, Save when your own imperious branches

swinging Have made a solemn music of the wind! Where, like a man helov'd of God, Through glooms,which never woodman trod, How oft, pursuing fancies holy, My moonlight-way o'er flow'ring weeds I

wound, Inspired, beyond the guess of folly, By each rude shape and wild unconquerable

sound! O ye loud Waves! and oh ye Forests high! And oh ye Clouds that far above mesoar'dt Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky! Yea, every thing that is and will be free! Bear witness for me, whercsoe'er ye be, With what deep worship I have still ador'd The spirit of divinest Liberty.

When France in wrath her giant-limbs

up reared, And with that oath, which smote air, earth

and sea, Stamp'd her strong foot and Raid she would

be free, Bear witness for me, how I hop'd and fear'd! With what a joy my lofty gratulation Unaw'd I sang, amid a slavish band: And when to whelm the disenchnnted nation, Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand, The Monarch*, march'd in evil day, And Britain join'd the dire array; Though dear her shores and circling ocean, Though many friendships, many youthful

loves Had swoln the patriot emotion And flung a magic light o'er all her hills

and groves; Yet still my voice, unaltcr'd, sang defeat To all that brav'd the tyrant-quelling lance, And shame too long delay'd and vain retreat! For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim I dimm'd thy light or damp'd thy holy flame; But blest the pxans of delivcr'd France, And hung ray head and wept at Britain's

name.

And what, I said, though Blasphemy's loud

scream With that sweet music of deliverance strove? Though all the fierce and drunken passions

■wove A dance more wild than e'er was maniac's

d ream 1 Ye storms, that round the dawning east

assembled, The Sun was rising, though ye hid his light! And when, to sooth my soul, that hoped

and trembled,

The dissonance ceas'd, and all seem'd calm

and bright; When France her front deep-scar'd and gory Conceal'd with clustering wreaths of glory; When, insupportably advancing, Her arm made mockery of the warrior's

ramp; While timid looks of fury glancing, Domestic treason, crush'd beneath her fatal

stamp, Writh'd like a wounded dragon in his gore; Then I reproach'd my fears that would not

flee; And soon, I said, shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan! And, conquering by her happiness alone, Shall France compel the nations to be free, Till Love and Joy look round, and call the

Earth their own.

Forgive me, Freedom! O forgive those dreams!

I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament,

From bleak Helvetia's icy caverns sent—

I hear thy groans upon her blood-stain'd streams!

Heroes, that for your peaceful country perish'd,

And ye that, fleeing, spot your mountainsnows

With bleeding wounds; forgive me, that I cherish'd

One thought that ever hlcss'd your cruel foes!

To scatter rage, and traitorous guilt,

Where Peace her jealous home had built;

A patriot-race to disinherit

Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear;

And with inexpiable spirit

To taint the bloodless freedom of the mountaineer—

O France, that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind,

And patriot only in pernicious toils!

Are these thy boasts, Champion of human kind;

To mix with Kings in the low lust of sway.

Yell in the hunt, and share the murd'rous prey;

To insult the shrine of Liberty with spoils

From freemen torn; to tempt and to betray?

The Sensual and the Dark rebel in vain, Slave* by their own compulsion! In mad

game They burst their manacles and wear the

name Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain! O Liberty! with profitless endeavour Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour; But thou nor swellst the victor's strain,

nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human

power. Alike from all, howe'er they praise thec.

(Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee)
Alike from Priestcraft's harpy minions,
And factious Blnsphemy's obscrner slaves.
Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions,
The guide of homeless winds, and playmate

of the waves! And there I felt thee!—on that sea-clifTs

verge, Whose pines, scarce travell'd by the breeze

above, Had made one murmur with the distant

surge! »

Yes, while I stood and gaz'd, my temples

hare, And shot my being through earth, sea and air. Possessing all things with intensest love, O Liberty! my spirit felt thee there. February 1T98.

FEARS IN SOLITUDE.

Written la April 1798, dnriag the Alarm of aa lavasioD.

A Gbbbn and silent spot, amid the hills, A small and silent dell! O'er stiller place No singing sky-lark ever pois'd himself. The hills are heathy, save that swelling

slope, Which hath a gay and gorgeous covering on. All golden with the never-bloomless farce. Which now blooms most profusely; bat the

dell, Bath'd by the mist, is fresh and delicate As vernal corn-field, or the unripe flax. When, through its half-transparent stalks,

at eve, The level sunshine glimmers with green

Oh! 'tis a quiet spirit-healing nook!
Which all, methinks, would love; but chiefly

he.
The humble man, who, in his youthful yean.
Knew just so much of folly, as had made
His early manhood more securely wise!
Here he might lie on fern or withcr'd heath.
While from the singing-lark (that singa

unseen The minstrelsy that solitude loves best) And from the Sun, and from the breezy Air. Sweet influences trembled o'er his frame; And he, with many feelings, many thoughts. Made up a meditative joy, and found Religious meanings in the forms of nature! And so, his senses gradually wrapt In a half sleep, he dreams of better world*. And dreaming hears thee still, oh singing

lark. That singest like an angel in the clouds!

My God! it is a melancholy thing For such a man. who would full fain preserve

His Miiii in calmness, yet perforce must feel
For all his human brethren—O m v God!
It it indeed a melancholy thing,
And weighs upon the heart, that he must

think What uproar and what strife may now be

stirring Tin's way or that way o'er these silent hills— Invasion, and the thunder and the shout, And all the. crash of onset; fear and rage, And undetermin'd conflict—even now, Kirn now, perchance, and in his native isle: Carnage and groans beneath this blessed Sun! We have offended, oh! my countrymen! We have offended very grievously. And been most tyrannous. From east to west A groan of accusation pierces heaven! The wretched plead against us; multitudes Countless and vehement, the Sons of God, OnrBrethren! Like a cloud that travels on, Stram'd up from Cairo's swamps of pestilence, EVn so, my countrymen! have we gone forth And borne todistant tribes slavery and pangs, And, deadlier far, our vices, whose deep taint With slow perdition murders the whole man, His body and his soul! Meanwhile, at home, All individual dignity and power Kngulph'd in Courts, Committees, Institutions, AMOriafions and Societies, A vain, speech-mouthing, speech-reporting

Guild, One Bksefit-cii'b for mutual flattery, We have drunk up, demure as at a grace, Pollutions from the brimming cup of wealth; Contemptuous of all honorable rule, Vet bartering freedom and the poor man's

life Kwgold, as at a market! The sweet words Of Christian promise, words that even yet Might stem destruction, were they wisely

preach'd, Are muttcr'd o'er by men, whose tones

proclaim Bow flat and wearisome they feel their trade Rank scoffers some, but most too indolent To deem them falsehoods or to know their

truth. Oh! blasphemous! the book of life is made A •operstitious instrument, on which We gabble o'er the oaths we mean to break; •or all must swear—all and in every place, College and wharf, council and justice-court; All, all must aw car, the briber and the bribed, Merchant and lawyer, senator and priest, The rich, the poor, the old man and the

young; A", all make up one scheme of perjury. That faith doth reel; the very name of God Sounds like a juggler's charm; and, bold

with joy, Forth from hi* dark and lonely hiding-place, (Portentous sight!) the owlet, Atheism, Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them

close.

And hooting nt the glorious Sun in Heaven, Cries out: Where is it? Thnnklcss too for

peace; (Peace long preserv'd by fleets and perilous

seas) Secure from actual warfare, we have lov'd To swell the war-whoop, passionate for war! Alas! for ages ignorant of all It's ghastlier workings (famine or blue

plague, Battle, or siege, or flight through wintry

snows), We, this whole people, have been clamorous For war and bloodshed; animating sports, The which we pay for as a thing to talk of, Spectators and not combatants! No guess Anticipative of a wrong unfelt, No speculation on contingency, However dim and vague, too vague and dim To yield a justifying cause; and forth (StufTd out with big preamble, holy names, And adjurations of the God in Heaven,) We send our mandates for the certain death Of thousands and ten thousands! Boys and

girls, And women, that would groan to see a child Pull off an insect's leg, all read of war, The lust amusement for our mnrning-mcal! The poor wretch, who has learnt his only

prayers From curses, who knows scarcely words

enough To ask a blessing from his heavenly Father, Becomes a fluent phrascman, absolute And technical in victories and deceit. And all our dainty terms for fratricide; Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er our

tongues Like mere abstractions, empty sounds to

which We join no feeling and attach no form! As if the soldier died without a wound; As if the fibres of this godlike frame Were gor'd without a pang; as if the wretch, Who fell in battle, doing bloody deeds, Pass'd ofTtoHeaven,translated and not kill'd; As though he had no wife to pine for him, No God to judge him! Therefore, evil days Are coining on us, oh my countrymen! And what if all-avenging Providence, Strong and retributive, should make us know The meaning of our words, force us to feel The desolation and the agony Of our fierce doings? Spare us yet awhile. Father and God! Oh! spare ns yet awhile! Oh! let not English women drag their flight Fainting beneath the burthen of their babes, Of the sweet infants, that but yesterday Laugh'd at the breast! Sons, brothers, husbands, all Who ever gaz'd with fondness on the forms Which grew up with you round the same

fire-side. And all who ever heard the sabbath-bells Without the infidel's scorn, make yourselves

pure!

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