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The homely beauty nf the pood old cause In gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household-laws.
Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
It is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which to the open Sea Of the world's praise from dark antiquity Hath flowed, with pomp of waters, unwith
stood, Road by which all might come and go that
would, And bear out freights of worth to foreign
lands; That this most famous Stream in Bogs and
Sands Should perish; and to evil and to good Be lost for ever. In our Halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of -old: We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakspeare spake; the faith and morals
hold Which Milton held. In every thing we are
sprung Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold.
Warn I have borne in memory what has
tamed Great Mat inns, how ennobling thoughts depart W hen Men change Swords for Ledgers, and
desert The Student's bower for gold, some fears
unnamed I hsd. my Country! nm I to be blamed? Bnt, when I think of Thee, and what Thou
art, ^fT'ily, in the bottom of my heart, Of those unfiliiil fears I am ashamed. But dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark of the cause of men; And I by my affection was beguiled. What wonder, if a Poet, now and then. Among the many movements of his mind, Kelt for thee as a Lover or a Child.
Onb might believe that natural miseries Had blasted France, and made of it a land Unfit for Men; and that in one great Rand Her Sons were bursting forth, to dwell at
ease. Rut 'tis a chosen soil, where sun and breeze Shed gentle favors; rural works are there; And ordinary business without care; Spot rich in all things that can soothe and
please! How piteous then that there should be such
dearth Of knowledge; that whole myriads should
unite To work against themselves such fell despite: Should come in phrenxy and in drunken mirth, Impatient to put out the only light Of Liberty that yet remains on Earth!
There is a bondage which is worse to bear Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor,
and wall, Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall: "I'is his who walks about in the open air, One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear Their fetters in thcirSouls. For who could be, Who, even the best, in such condition, free From self-reproach, reproach which he must
share With Human Nature? Nsvcr be it ours To see the Sun how brightly it will shine, And know that noble Feelings, manly Powers, Instead of gathering strength must droop
and pine, And Earth with all her pleasant fruits and
flowers Fade, and participate in Man's decline.
These times touch money'd Worldlings with
dismay: Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air With words of apprehension and despair: While tens of thousands, thinking on the
afTray, Men unto whom sufficient for the day And minds not stinted or untill'd are given. Sound, healthy Children nf the God of
Heaven, Are cheerful as the rising Sun in May. What do wc gather hence but firmer faith That every gift of noble origin If breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath; That virtue and the faculties within Are vital, and that riches are akin To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death!
England! the time is come when thou
shouldst wean Thy heart from its emasculating food; The truth should now be better understood; Old things have been unsettled; we have seen Fair seed-time, better harvest might have
been But for thy trespasses; and, at this day, If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa, Aught good were destined, Thou wouldst
step between. England! all nations in this charge agree: But worse, more ignorant in love and hale, Far, far more abject is thine Enemy: Therefore the wise pray for thee, though
the freight Of thy offences be a heavy weight: Oh grief! that Earth's best hopes rest all
Another year!—another deadly blow!
know That in ourselves our safety must be
sought; That by our own right hands it must be
wrought, That we must stand unpropp'd, or be laid low. O Dastard whom such foretaste doth not
cheer! We shall exult, if They who rule the land Be Men who hold its many blessings dear, Wise, upright, valiant; not a venal Band, Who are to judge of danger which they
'fear, And honour which they do not understand.
WniLE not a leaf seems faded,—while the
fields, Willi ripening harvests prodigally fair,
In brightest sunshine bnsk,—this nipping air, Sent from some distant clime where Winter
wields His icy scymetar, a foretaste yields Of bitter change—and bids the Flowers
beware; And whispers to the silent Birds, "prepare Against the threatening foe your trustiest
shields." For me, who under kindlier laws belong To Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry Through the green leaves, and yon crystalline sky, Announce a season potent to renew, 'Mid frost and snow, the instinctive joys of
song,— And nobler cares than listless summer knew.
November 1, 1815.
How clear, how keen, how marvellously
bright The effluence from yon distant mountain's
head, Which, strewn with snow as smooth as
Heaven can shed. Shines like another Sun—on mortal sight. Uprisen, as if to check approaching night. And all her twinkling stars. Who now
would trend. If so he might, yon mountain's glittering
head— Terrestrial—but a surface, by the flight Of sad mortality's earth-sullying wing, Unswept, unstained? Nor shall the aerial
Powers Dissolve that beauty—destined to endure White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely pure. Through all vicissitudes—till genial spring Have filled the laughing vales with welcome
COMPOSED IN RECOLLECTION OF THE EXPEDITION OP THE FRENCH INTO RUSSIA.
Ye Klorins. resound the praises of your King! And ye mild seasons—in a sunny clime, Midway on some high hill,while Father Time Looks on delighted—meet in festal ring. And loud and long of Winter's triumph sing! Sing ye, with blossoms crowned, and fruits,
and flowers, Of Winter's breath surcharged with sleety
showers. And the dire flapping of his hoary wing! Knit the blithe dance upon the soft green
grass; With feet, hands, eyes, looks, lips, report
your gain; Whisper it to the billows of the main, And to the aerial Zephyrs as they pass, That old decrepit Winter—fie hath slain That Host, which rendered all your linnn ties vain!
81 GCKSTKD BY W'tSTALl.'iJ VIKM S OP THB CIUS IN YIIHKMHIHK.
Pi'kk element of waters! wheresoe'er
melt Their anguish,—and they blend sweet songs with thine!
C O R D A L E.
At early dawn,—or rather when the air
hides His lineaments by day, and there presides, Tearhing the docile waters how to turn; Or, if need he, impediment to spurn, And force their passage to the sal t-sea-tides!
Akihil Unci,—whose solitary brow
Want, through neglect of hoar Antiquity. Rise, then, ye votive Towers, nnd catch a
gleam Of golden sun-set—ere it fade and die!
THE WILD-DUCK g NEST.
The Imperial Consort of the Fairy-King Owns not a sylvan bower, or gorgeous cell With emerald floor'd, and with purpureal
shell Cciling'd and roofd; that is so fair a thing As this low structure—for the tasks of Spring Prepared by one who loves the buoyant swell Of the brisk waves, yet here consents to
dwell; And spreads in steadfast peace her brooding
wing. Wrords cannot paint the o'ershadowing yewtree-bough, And dimly-gleaming Nest,—a hollow crown Of golden leaves inlaid with silver down, Fine as the Mother's softest plumes allow I I gaze—and almost wish to lay aside Humanity, weak slave of cumbrous pride!
As the cold aspect of a sunless way
mind To fit proportion with my altered state! Quench those felicities whose light I find Burning within my bosom nil too late!— O he my spirit, like my thraldom, strait; And like mine eyes, that stream with sorrow,
TO A SNOW-DROP, APPEARING VERY FlIll.Y in THB SEASON,
Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and
white as they Rut hardier far, though modestly thou bend Thy front—as if ruch presence could offend | Who guards thy slender stalk, while, day
by day, Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, way-lay
The rising; sun, and on the plains descend? Accept the greeting- that befits a friend Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed
TO THE RIVER DERWENT.
Among the mountains were wc nnrs'd, lov'd
Stream! Thou, near the eagle's nest—with in brief sail, I, of his bold wing floating on the gale. Where thy deep voice could lull me!—Faint
the beam Of human life when first allowed to gleam On mortal notice.—Glory of the Vale, Such thy meek outset, with a crown though
frail Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam Of thy soft breath!—Less vivid wreaths entwined Nemeean Victor's brow; less bright was worn Meed of some Roman Chief—in triumph borne With captives chain'd, and shedding from his car .
The sunset-splendors of a finish'd war
Grief, thou hast lost an ever rendy Friend Now that the cottage-spinning-wheel is mute; And Care—a Comforter that best could suit Her forward mood, and softliest reprehend; And Love—a Charmer's voice, that nscd to
lend. More efficaciously than aught that flows From harp or lute, kind influence to compose The throbbing pulse,—else troubled without
end: Ev'n Joy could tell, Joy craving truce and rest From her own overflow, what power sedate On those revolving motions did await Assiduously, to sooth her aching breast; And—to a point of just relief—abate The mantling triumphs of a day too blest.
Supposed To Ie Found In A Hermit's Cell.
Hopes what arc they?—Reads of morning
Strung on slender blades of grass;
Or a spider's web adorning
In a strait and treacherous pass.
What are fears but voices airy?
What is glory?—in the socket
What is friendship?—do not trust her.
What is truth?—a staff rejected;
Bright, aa if through ether steering,
Gone, as if for ever hidden,
What is youth?—a dancing billow.
What is peace?—when pain is over,
Translated From cnuiRFnt
Peru Ips some needful service of the State Drew Titus from the depth of studious
bowers And doomed him to contend in faithless
courts. Where gold determines between right and
wrong. Yet did at length his loyalty of heart And his pure native genius lead him back To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses Whom he had early loved. And not in vain Such course he held! Bologna's learned
schools Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and
With fondness on those sweet Ncstorian
strains. There pleasure crowned his days; and all
his thoughts A roseate fragrance breathed,—O human life, That never art secure from dolorous change! Behold a high injunction suddenly ToArno's side conducts him, and he charmed A Tuscan audience: hut full soon was called To the perpetual silence of the grave. Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood A Champion steadfast and invincible, To quell the rage of literary War!
0 thou who movent onward with a mind
came. Now, Reader, learn from this my fate—
how false, How treacherous to her promise is theWorld, And trust in God—to whose eternal doom Must bend the sceptred Potentates of Earth.
There never breathed a man who when his
life Was closing might not of that life ralate Toils long and hard. — The Warrior will
report Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in
the field, And blast of trumpets. He who hath been
doomed To bow his forehead in the courts of kings, Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate, Envy, and heart-inquietude, derived From intricate cabals of treacherous friends. I, .who on ship-board lived from earliest
youth, Could represent the countenance horrible Of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage Of Auster and Bootes. Forty years Over the well-steered Gallics did I rule:— From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;
And the broad gulfs I traversed oft—and—
oft: Of every cloud which in the heavens might
stir I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's
pride Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow. What noble pomp and frequent have not I On regal decks beheld! yet in the end I learn that one poor moment can suffice To equalize the lofty and the low. We sail the sea of life—a Calm One finds, And One a Tempest—and, the voyage o'er, Death is the quiet haven of us all. If more of my condition you would know, Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang Of noble Parents: sixty years and three Lived I—then yielded to a slow disease.
Destined to war from very infancy
Pause, courteous Spirit!—Bnlhi supplicates
But truly did He live his life Urbino
Take pride in him;—O Passenger farewell!