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EXTRACTS' FROM THE PELICAN-ISLAND. On its peculiar soil; while suns matured 1-The Youth, the Maiden ;-living but for What winds had sown, and rains in season
Yet learning soon that life hath other cares, Providing nourishment for all that lived: And joys less rapturous, but more enduries: Man's generations came and went like these, -The Woman ;-- in her offspring multiplied; The grass and flowers that wither where A tree of life, whose glory is her branches
they spring; Beneath whose shadow, she (both root and The brutes that perish wholly where they fall.
| Delights to dwell in meek obscurity, Thus while I mused on these in long That they may be the pleasure of beholders
- The Man ;-as father of a progeny, And all remain d as all had been before, Whose birth requires his death to make them I cried, as I was wont, though none did listen,
room, _ 'Tis sweet sometimes to speak and be the Yet in whose lives he feels his resurrection
Aud grows immortal in his children'schildren: For he is twice himself who can converse - Then the gray Elder;-leaning on his staf. With his own thoughts,as with a living throng And bow'd beneath a weight of years, that Of fellow-travellers in solitude;
steal And mine too long had been my sole com- Upon him with the secrecy of sleep,
|(No snow falls lighter than the snow of age. What is this mystery of human life? None with such subtilty benumbs the frame) In rude or civilised society,
Till he forgets sensation, and lies down Alike, a pilgrim's progress through this world Dead in the lap of his primeval mother; To that which is to come, by the same stages; She throws a shroud of turf and flower With infinite diversity of fortune
around him, To each distinct adventurer by the way! Then calls the worms, and bids them de Life is the transmigration of a soul
their office: Through various bodies, various states of - Man giveth up the ghost, and where being;
is He?" New manners, passions, tastes, pursuits in each; In nothing, save in consciousness, the same. Infancy, adolescence, manhood, age, I saw those changes realised before me; Are alway moving onward, alway losing Saw them recurring in perpetual line, Themselves in one another, lost at length, The line unbroken, while the thread ran on. Like undulations, on the strand of death. Failing at this extreme, at that renewd. The sage of threescore years and ten looks Like buds, leaves, blossoms, fruits on herba back,
and trees; With many a pang of lingering tenderness, Like mites, flies, reptiles; birds, and beasta, And many a shuddering conscience-fit-on
Of every length of period here,-all mortal. He hath been, is not, cannot be again; And all regolved into those elements Nor trembles less with fear and hope, to think Whence they had emanated, whence they What he is now, but cannot long continue,
drew And what he must be through uncounted Their sustenance, and which their wrecks ages.
recruited -The Child ;-we know no more of happy To generate and foster other forms.
As like themselves as were the lights of Than happy childhood knows of wretched eld;
heaven, And all our dreams of its felicity
For ever moving in serene succession, Are incoherent as its own crude visions : Not like those lights unquenchable by time, We but begin to live from that fine point But ever changing, like the clouds that come, Which memory dwells on, with the morning- Who can tell whence? and go, who can tell star,
whither? The earliest note we heard the cuckoo sing, Thus the swift series of man's race elapsed. Or the first daisy that we ever pluck'd, As for no higher destiny created When thoughts themselves were stars, and Than aught beneath them, - from the birds, and flowers,
elephant Pare brilliance, simplest music, wild perfume. Down to the worm, thence to the zoophyte, Thenceforward, mark the metamorphoses! That link which binds Prometheus to his rock, --The Boy, the Girl;-when all was joy, The living fibre' to insensate matter.
hope, promise; They were not, then they were; the unbors. Yet who would be a Boy, a Girl again,
the living! To bear the yoke, to long for liberty, They were, then were not; they had lived And dream of what will never come to pass ?
MISCELLANEOUS P O EM S.
HYMN TO THE PENATES. | To tumult. When a child-(and still I love
Todwell with fondness on my childish years) Yet one Song more! one high and solemn When first a little one, I left my home,
I can remember the first grief I felt, Ere, Phoebus! on thy temple's ruin'd wall And the first painful smile that clothed my I hang the silent harp: there may its strings,
front When the rude tempest shakes the aged pile, With feelings not its own: sadly at night Make melancholy music. One Song more! I sat me down beside a stranger's hearth; PENATES! hear me! for to you I hymn And when the lingering hour of rest was The votive lay; whether, as sages deem,
come, Ye dwell in the inmost Heaven, the Coun- First wet with tears my pillow. As I grew
In years and knowledge, and the course of Or Jove; or if, SUPREME OF Deities,
Time All things are yours, and in your holy train Develop'd the young feelings of my heart, Jove proudly ranks, and Juno, white-arma When most I loved in solitude to rove
Amid the woodland - gloom; or where the And, wisest of Immortals, the dread Maid
rocks ATHENIAN PALLAS. Venerable Powers, Darkend old Avon's stream, in the ivied cave Hearken your hymn of praise! Though from Recluse to sit and brood the future song,-
Yet not then less, Penatis, loved I then Estranged, and exiled from your altars long, Your altars; not the less at evening-hour I have not ceased to love you, HOUSEHOLD Delighted by the well-trimm'd fire to sit,
Absorb'd in many a dear deceitful dream In many a long and melancholy hour Of visionary joys; deceitful dreams,Of solitude and sorrow, hath my heart And yet not vain; for, painting purest bliss, With earnest longings pray'd to rest at length They form'd to Fancy's mould her votary's Beside your hallow'd hearth-for Prace is
By Cherwell's sedgy side, and in the meads Yes, I have loved you long! I call on you Where Isis in her calm clear stream reflects Yourselves to witness with what holy joy, The willow's bending boughs, at early dawn, Shunning the common herd of human kind, In the noon-tide-hour, and when the nightI have retired to watch your lonely fires
mist rose, And commune with myself. Delightful hours, I have remember'd you: and when the noise That gave mysterious pleasure, made me of lewd Intemperance on my lonely ear
Burst with loud tumult, as recluse I sate, Mine inmost heart, its weakness and its Pondering on loftiest themes of man redeem'd
From servitude, and vice and wretchedness, Taught me to cherish with devoutest care I blest you, House OLD Gops! becanse I Its strange unworldly feelings, taught me too
loved The best of lessons—TO RESPECT MYSELF. Your peaceful altars and serener rites. Nor have I ever ceased to reverence you, Nor did I cease to reverence you, when DOMESTIC DEITIES! from the first dawn
driven Of reason, through the adventurous paths Amid the jarring crowd, an unfit man
To mingle with the world; still, still my heart Even to this better day, when on mine ear Sigh'd for your sanctuary, and inly pined; The uproar of contending nations sounds And, loathing human converse, I have stray'd But like the passing wind, and wakes no Where o'er the sca-beach chilly lowl'd ihe pulse
And gazed upon the world of wares, and To mingle with the crowd, your calm aboda
Where by the evening-hearth COXTENDI That I were far beyond the Atlantic deep, In woodland-haunts, a sojourner with PEACE. And hears the cricket chirp; where Lor:
To dwell, and on your altars lays his teach Not idly did the poets dream of old, That burns with no extinguishable fiame Who peopled earth with Deities. They trod The wood with reverence where the DBYADS
Hear me, ye Powers benignant ! there s At day's dim dawn or evening's misty hour
one They saw the OREADS on their mountain- Must be mine inmate,- for I may not choose
But love him. He is one whom many vroup And felt their holy influence; nor impure Hare sicken'd of the world. There was a Of thought, or ever with pollated hands, Touch'd they without a prayer the NAIAD's When he would weep to hear of wickedness
And wonder at the tale; when for the op Yet was their influence transient; such brief
He felt a brother's pity, to the oppresse Inspiring as the thunder's long loud peal A good man's honest anger. His quick eye Strikes to the feeble spirit. HOUSEHOLD GODS, Betray'd each rising feeling; every thought Not such your empire! in your votaries' Leapt to his tongue. When first among breasts
mankind No momentary impulse ye awake;
He mingled, by himself he judged of the Nor fleeting, like their local energies, And loved and trusted them, to Wide The deep devotion that your fanes impart.
deaf, O ye whom YOUTH has wilder'd on your way, And took them to his bosom. Falsehoods Or VICE with fair-mask'd foulness, or the Her unsuspecting victim, fair of front,
And lovely as Apega's sculptured form, Of Fame that calls ye to her crowded paths Like that false image caught his varm ex With FOLLY's rattle, to your HOUSEHOLD
And gored his open breast. The reptile ri Return; for not in Vice's gay abodes, Clung round his bosom, and, with viper-fold Not in the unquiet unsafe halls of FAME Encircling, stang the fool who foster's thes Doth HAPPINESS abide! 0 ye who weep His mother was SPIPLICITY, his sire Much for the many miseries of Mankind, BENEVOLENCE; in earlier days he bore More for their vices; ye whose honest eyes His father's name; the world who injeret Frown on OPPRESSION,- ye whose honest
Call him MISANTHROPY. I may not choose Beat high when FREEDOM sounds her dread But love him, HOUSEHOLD Gods! for ve vem alarm;
nurst 0 ye who quit the path of peaceful life in the same school.-PENATES! some there an Crusading for mankind-a spaniel-race Who say, that not in the inmost bearen re That lick the hand that beats them, or tear
Gazing with eye remote on all the way Alike in phrensy; to your HousenOLD Gods Of man, his GUARDIAN GODs; wiselier thing Return, for by their altars VIRTUE dwells, And HAPPINESS with her; for by their fires A dearer interest to the human race TRANQUILLITY, in no unsocial mood,
Links you, yourselves the SPIRITS OF ID Sits silent, listening to the pattering shower;
The depth where Truth lies hid. Yet to As on the height of some huge eminence,
this faith Reach'd with long labour, the way-faring My heart with instant sympathy assents;
And I would judge all systems and all faithe Pauses awhile, and, gazing o'er the plain By that best touchstone, from whose tes With many a sore step travellid, turns him
Shrinks like the Arch-Fiend at Ithuriel, Serious to contemplate the onward road,
spear, And calls to mind the comforts of his home, And SOPHISTRY's gay glittering bubble buns And sighs that he has left them, and resolves As at the spousals of the Nereid's son, To stray no more: I on my way of life When that false Florimel, by her prototyr Muse thus, PenATEs, and with firmest faith Display'd in rivalry, with all her charms Devote myself to you. I will not quit, | Dissolved away.-Nor can the halls of Heave
Give to the human soul such kindred joy, The votive wreath renew'd, and the rich As hovering o'er its earthly haunts it feels,
smoke When with the breeze it wantons round the Curl from the costly censer slow and sweet.
From Egypt soon the sorrow-soothing rites Of one beloved on earth; or when at night Divulging spread; before your idol-forms In dreams it comes, and brings with it the By every hearth the blinded Pagan knelt,
Pouring his prayers to these, and offering And Joys that are no more. Or when, per
Vain sacrifice or impious, and sometimes With power permitted to alleviate ill With human blood your sanctuary defiled : And fit the sufferer for the coming woe, Till the first BRUTUS, tyrant - conquering Some strange presage the SPIRIT breathes,
chief, and fills
Arose; he first the impious rites put down, The breast with ominous fear, and disciplines | He fitliest, who for FREEDOM lived and died, For sorrow, pours into the afflicted heart The friend of humankind. Then did your The balm of resignation, and inspires
feasts With heavenly hope. Even as a child de- Frequent recur and blameless; and when came
The solemn festival, whose happiest rites To visit day by day the favourite plant Emblem'd EQUALITY, the holiest truth! His hand has sown, to mark its gradual Crown'd with gay garlands were your stagrowth,
tues seen, And watch all-anxious for the promised flower: To you the fragrant censer smoked, to you Thus to the blessed spirit, in innocence The rich libation flow'd : vain sacrifice And pure affections, like a little child, For nor the poppy-wreath nor fruits nor Sweet will it be to hover o'er the friends
wine Beloved; then sweetest, if, as Duty prompts, Ye ask, PENATES ! nor the altar cleansed With earthly care we in their breasts have With many a mystic form, ye ask the heart
Made pure, and by domestic Peace and Love The seeds of Truth and Virtue, holy flowers, Hallow'd to you. Hearken your hymn of Whose odour reacheth Heaven. When my
praise, sick heart
PENATES! to your shrines I come for rest, (Sick with hope long delayed, than which There only to be found. Often at eve,
Amid my wanderings I have seen far off Weighs on the spirit heavier ;) from itself | The lonely light that spake of comfort there; Seeks the best comfort, often have I deem'd It told my heart of many a joy of home, That thou didet witness every inmost And my poor heart was sad. When I have
thought, SEWARD! my dear dead friend! For not in From some high eminence on goodly vales
And cots and villages embower'd below, O early summond on thy heavenly course! The thought would rise that all to me was Was thy brief sojourn here: me didst thou
Amid the scene so fair, nor one small spot With strengthen'd step to follow the right Where my tired mind might rest, and call
it home. Till we shall meet again. Meantime I sooth There is a magic in that little word; The deep regret of Nature, with belief, It is a mystic circle that surrounds O Edmund! that thine eye's celestial ken Comforts and virtues never known beyond Pervades me now, marking with no mean joy The hallowed limit. Often has my heart The movements of the heart that loved thee Ached for that quiet haven!--haven'd now,
I think of those in this world's wilderness
Who wander on and find no home of rest Such feelings Nature prompts, and hence Till to the grave they go! them POVERTY,
Hollow-eyed fiend, the child of WBalti and DOMESTIC Gops arose. When for his son
POWER, With ceaseless grief Syrophanes bewail'd, Bad offspring of worse parents, aye afflicts, Mourning his age left childless,' and his Cankering with her foul mildews the chill'd wealth
heart; Heapt for an alien, be with obstinate eye Them WANT with scorpion-ecourge drives Still on the imaged marble of the dead
to the den Dwelt, pampering sorrow. Thither from his Of GUILT;-them SLAUGHTER for the price wrath,
of death A safe asylum, fled the offending slave, Throws to her raven-brood. Oh, not on And garlanded the statue, and implored
them, His young lost lord to save: Remembrance GoD OF ETERNAL JUSTICE! not on them
Let fall thy thunder!-HOUSEHOLD DEITIES ! Softend the father, and he loved to sec Then only shall be Happiness on earth
When man shall feel your sacred power, and Whose streamer to the gentle breeze
Long floating flutter'd light, Your tranquil joys; then shall the city stand Beneath whose crimson canopy A huge void sepulchre, and rising fair There lay reclined a knight. Amid the ruins of the palace-pile The olive grow, there shall the TBER OF PEACE With arching crest and swelling breast Strike its roots deep and flourish. This the On sail'd the stately swan,
And lightly up the parting tide
And onward to the shore they drew, Shall sink annihilate, and all mankind
Where having left the knight, Live in the equal brotherhood of love.
The little boat adown the stream Heart-calming hope, and sure! for hither
Fell soon beyond the sight. ward Tend all the tumults of the troubled world,
'Was never a Knight in Waldhurst's salle Its woes, its wisdom, and its wickedness
Could with this stranger vie, Alike: 80 He hath will’d, whose will is just.
Was never a youth at aught esteem'd
When Rudiger was by.
Was never a Maid in Waldhurst's walls
Might match with Margaret,
Her cheek was fair, her eyes were dark,
Her silken locks like jet.
And many a rich and noble youth
Had strove to win the fair,
Could rival Rudiger.
At every tilt and tourney he
For knightly feats superior still upon the river Rhine, they beheld a boat or small barge inake toward the shore, drawn by
And knightly courtesies. a Swan in a silver chain, the one end fastened about her neck, the other to the vessel; and in it an unknown soldier, a man of a comely per
nl Soon won the willing fair; Bonage, and graceful presence, who stept upon the shore; which done, the boat guided by the And soon did Margaret become Swan left him, and floated dowu the river. This The wife of Rudiger. man fell afterward in league with a fair gentlewoman, married her, and by her had many children. After some years, the same Swan came Like morning-dreams of happiness with the same barge into the game place; the | Fast rollid the months away ; soldier entering into it, was carried thence the For he was kind and she was kind, way he came, left wife, children, and family,
And who so blest as they ? and was never seen ainongst them after.
Now who can judge this to be other than one of those spirits that are named Incubi ? says Yet Rudiger would sometimes sit Thomas Heywood. I have adopted his story, but Absorb'd in silent thought. not his solution, making the unknown soldier not an evil spirit, but one who had purchased | And his dark downward eye would see happiness of a malevolent being, by the promised With anxious meaning fraught. sacrifice of his first-born child.
But soon he raised his looks again, BRIGAT on the mountain's heathy slope
And smiled his cares away, The day's last splendours shine,
And 'mid the hall of gaiety
Was none like him so gay.
And onward rollid the waning months, Along the river stroll’d,
The hour appointed came, As ruffling o'er the pleasant stream
And Margaret her Rudiger The evening-gales came cold.
Haild with a father's name. So as they stray'd a swan they saw
But silently did Rudiger Sail stately up and strong,
The little infant see; And by a silver chain he drew
And darkly on the babe he gazed,A little boat along.
A gloomy man was hc.