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Soon stopp'd its dance th'ignoble utensil, Around his bosom by a silken zone
When from its round and small recess there A little bagpipe gracefully was bound,


Whose pipes like hollow stalks of silver Thin curling wreaths of paly smoke, that


The glist'ring tiny avenues of sound; Fed by some magic unapparent flame, Beneath his arm the windy bag, full-blown, Mount to the chamber's stucco'd roof, and fill Heav'd up its purple like an orange round, Each nook with fragrance and refresh the And only waited orders to discharge


It's blasts with charming groan into the Ne'er smelt a Phænix-nest so sweet, I wot,

sky at large. As emelt the luscious fumes of Maggie's


He wav'd his hand to Maggie, as she gat

Amaz'd and startled on her carved chair; It reeked censer-like; then (strange to tell) Then took his petty feather-garnish'd hat Forth from the smoke, that thick and thicker In honour to the lady from his hair,


And made a bow 8o dignifiedly flat, A fairy of the height of half an ell, That Mag was witched with his beauish air; In dwarfish pomp, majestically rose; At last he spoke, with voice so soft, so kind, His feet, upon the table 'stablish'd well, So sweet, as if his throat with fiddle-strings Stood trim and splendid in their snake-skin

was lin'd. hose; Gleam'd, topaz-like, the breeches he had on, Whose waistband like the bend of summer

rainbow shone. Thus forward and impertinently rude,

Emerge, uncall'd, into the upper air,

Intruding on a maiden's solitude ; His coat seem'd fashion'd of the threads of Nay, do not be alarm’d, thon lady fair!


Why startle so?-I am a fairy good ; That intertwine the clouds at sun-set hour, Not one of those that, envying beauteous And, certes, Iris with her shuttle bold

maids, Wove the rich garment in her lofty bower; Speckle their skins with moles, and fill with To form its buttons were the Pleiads old

spleens their heads. Pluck'd from their sockets by some genie

power, And sew'd upon the coat's resplendent hem; For, as conceal'd in this clay-house of mine, Its neck was lovely green; each cuff a I overheard thee, in a lowly voice,

sapphire gem. Weighing thy lovers' merits, with design

Now on the worthiest lad to fix thy choice,

I have up-bolted from my paltry shrine, As when the churlish spirit of the Cape To give thee, sweet-ey'd lass, my best advice; To Gama, voyaging to Mozambique,

For by the life of Oberon my king! Up-popp'd from sea, a tangle-tassel'd shape, To pick good husband out is, sure, a ticklish With muscles sticking inch-thick on his

cheek, And 'gan with tortoise-shell his limbs to

scrape, And yawn'd his monstrous blobberlips to

THE MORNING OF ANSTER - FAIR. speak; Brave Gama's hairs stood bristled at the lI wish I had a cottage snug and neat


Upon the top of many-fountain'd Ide, And on the tarry deck sunk down his men

That I might thence in holy fervour greet with fright. The bright-gown'd Morning tripping np her


And when the low Sun's glory-burkin'd feet So sudden (not so huge and grimly dire)

Walk on the blue wave of th' Aegean tide, U prose to Maggie's 'stounded eyne the sprite, lo, I would kneel me down, and worship As fair a fairy as you could desire,

there With ruddy cheek, and chin and temples The God who garnish'd out a world so bright white;

and fair! His eyes seem'd little points of sparkling fire, That, as he look'd, charm’d with inviting


The saffron-elbow'd Morning up the slope He was, indeed as bonny å fay and brisk, of heav'n canaries in her jewell'd shoes, As ever on long moon-beam was seen to And throws o’er Kelly-law's sheep-nibbled top ride and frisk. Her golden apron dripping kindly dews,



And never, since she first began to hop

THE PIPERS' COMPETITION. Up Hear'n's blue causeway, of her beams


And soon the pipers, shouldering along Shone there a dawn so glorious and so gay, Thro' the close mob their squeez'd uneasy As shines the merry dawn of ANSTER Market

Stood at the hillock's foot, an eager throng,

Each asking license from the king to play: Round through the vast circumference of sky For with a tempest, turbulent and strong, One speck of small cloud cannot eye behold, Labour'd their bags impatient of delay, Save in the East some fleeces bright of die, Heaving their bloated globes outrageously, That stripe the hem of heav'n with woolly As if in pangs to give their contents to the sky

gold, Whereon are happy angels wont to lie Lolling, in amaranthine flow'rs enrollid, And every bag, thus full and tempest-ripe. That they may spy the precious light of God Beneath its arm lay ready to be prest, Flung froin the blessed East o'er the fair And, on the holes of each fair-polish'd pipe. Earth abroad. Each piper's fingers long and white vere

plac'd; The fair Earth langhs through all her bound- Fiercely they burn'd in jealous rivalship;

less range,

Each madding piper scofld at all the rest. Heaving her green hills high to greet the And feerd and toss'd contemptuously his beam;

head, City and village, steeple, cot and grange, As if his skill alone deserv'd fair MAGGIEI Gilt as with nature's purest leaf-gold seem;

bed. The heaths and apland muirs, and fallows,

change Their barren brown into a ruddy gleam,

Nor could they wait, so piping-mad they

were, And, on ten thousand dew-bent leaves and


Till James gave each man orders to begin. Twinkle ten thousand suns and Aing their But in a moment they displode their air

petty rays.

In one tumultuous and unlicens'd din;

Out-flies, in storm of simultaneous blare, Up from their bests and fields of tender corn

The whizzing wind comprest their bag Right merrily the little sky-larks spring,

within, And on their dew-bedabbled pinions borne,

e And, whiffling through the wooden tubes Mount to the heav'n's blue key-stone

so small, flickering;

Growls gladness to be freed from such conft They turn their plume-soft bosoms to the

ing thrall. morn, And hail the genial light and cheerly sing; Then rose, in burst of hideous symphony. Echo the gladsome hills and valleys round, of pibrochs and of tunes one mingled raar: As half the bells of Fife ring loud and Discordantiy the pipes squeal'd sharp and swell the sound.


The droncs alone in solemn concord snore; For, when the first up-sloping ray was flung Five hundred fingers, twinkling funnilt. On Anster steeple's swallow-harb'ring top, Play twiddling up and down on hole and bere It's bell and all the bells around were rung Now passage to the shrilly wind denying Sonorous, jangling loud without a stop, And now a little rais'd to let it ont a-sichiar For toilingly each bitter beadle swung, Ev'n till he smok'd with sweat, his greasy


Then rung the rocks and cares of Billyari And almost broke his bell-wheel, ush'ring in

Reverberating back that concert's sound, The morn of ANSTER-Fair with tinkle-tank

And half the lurking Echoes that posares ling din.

The glens and hollows of the Fifan groen

Their shadowy voices strain'd into erres And, from our steeple's pinnacle out-spread, I of out-cry, lond huzzaing round and ! The town's long colours flare and flap on high, To all the Dryads of Pitkirie wood. Whose anchor, blazon'd fair in green and red, That now they round their trres should do Curls pliant to each breeze that whistles by;

in frisky mood Whilst, on the boltsprit, stern, and topmast

head of brig and sloop that in the harbour lie, As when the sportsman with repart of Streams the red gaudery of flags in air, Alarms the sea-fowl of the isle of May. All to salute and grace the morn of ANSTER- Ten thousand mews and gulls that a Fair.

the sun Come Napping down in terrible dismay,


And with a wild and barb'rous concert stun By solemn vision and bright silver dreain His cars, and scream, and shriek, and wheel | His infancy was nurtured. Every sight


And sound from the vast earth and ambient Scarce can the boatınan hear his plashing oar;


1 Yell caves and eyries all, and rings each Sent to his heart its choicest impulses.

Maian shore: The fountains of divine philosophy

Fled not his thirsting lips, and all of great,

Or good, or lovely, which the sacred past Just so around the knoll did pipe and drone In truth or fable consecrates, he felt Whistle and hum a discord strange to hear, And knew. When early youth had past, he left Tort'ring with violence of shriek and groan His cold fireside and alienated home Kingly, and courtly, and plebeian var; To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands. And still the men had humm'd and whistled on, Many a wide waste and tangled wilderness Ev'n till each bag had burst its bloated Has lared his fearful steps; and he has: sphere,

bought Had not the king, nprising, wav'd his hand, With his sweet voice and eyes, from eavage And check'd the boist'rous din of such un

men, manner'd band. His rest and food. Nature's most secret steps

He like her shadow has pursued, where'er

'The red volcano over-canopies On one side of his face a laugh was seen, Its fields of snow and pinnacles of ice On t' other side a half-form'd frown lay hid; With burning smoke, or where bitumen-lakes He frown'd, because they petulantly keen, On black bare pointed islets ever beat Set up their piping forward and unbid; With sluggish surge, or where the secret He laugh’d, for who could have contrould

his mien

| Rugged and dark, winding among the springs Hearing such crash of pibrochs as he did? Of fire and poison, inaccessible He bade them orderly the strife begin, To avarice or pride. their starry domes And play each man the tune wherewith thc Of diamond and of gold expand above

fair he'd win. Numberless and immeasurable halla, Frequent with crystal coluinn, and clear

shrines of pearl, and thrones radiant with chrysolite. Nor had that scene of ampler majesty

Than gems or gold, the varying of heaven PERCY BISSHE SHELLEY.

And the green earth lost in his heart its claims
To love and wonder; he would linger long
In lonesome vales, making the wild his home,
Until the doves and squirrels would partake

From his innocuous hand his bloodless food,

| Lured by the gentle meaning of his looks; And the wild antelope, that starts whene'er The dry leaf rustles in the brake, suspend

Her timid steps to gaze upon a form THERE was a poet, whose untimely tomb More graceful than her own. His wandering No human hands with pious reverence reared,

step, But the charmed eddies of antumnal winds Obedient to high thoughts, bas visited Built o'er his mouldering boncs a pyramid The awful ruins of the days of old : Ofinouldering leaves in the waste wilderness: Athens, and Tyre, and Balbec, and the waste A lovely youth, - no mourning maiden Where stood Jerusalem, the fallen towers


of Babylon, the eternal pyramids, With weeping flowers, or white cypress- Memphis and Thebes, and whatsoe'er of wreath,

strange The lone couch of his everlasting sleep: Sculptured on alabaster obelisk, Gentle, and brave, and generous, -- no lorn Or jasper toub, or mutilated sphynx,


Dark Aethiopia in her desert hills Breathed o'er his dark fate one melodious Conceals. Among the ruined temples there,


Stupendous columns, and wild images He lived, he died, he sang, in solitude. Of more than man, where marble daemons Strangers have wept to hear his passionate

watch notes,

The Zodiac's brazen mystery, and dead men And virgins, as unknown he past, have pined Hang their niute thoughts on the mute And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes.

walls around, The fire of those orbs has ceased to burn, He lingered, poring in memorials And silence, too enamoured of that voice, of the world's youth; through the long Locks its mute music in her rugged cell.

burning day



Gazed on those speechles shapes, nor, when And just, and free, and mild, if in e

the moon

Such power; for I grow weary to be a Filled the mysterious halls with floating The selfish and the strong still tyre


Without reproach or check.- tha s Suspended he that task, but ever gazed

trouled And gazed, till meaning on his vacant mind My tears, my heart grew calm, and I Flashed like strong inspiration, and he saw

meek and bels The thrilling secrets of the birth of time.

And from that hour did I with an


Heap knowledge from forbidden minn THE DEDICATION OF THE REVOLT

lore; OF ISLAM.

Yet nothing that my tyrants knew or to

I cared to learn, but from that secret TO MARY -

Wrought linked armour for my sonl, brine

It might walk forth to war among manla So now my summer-task is ended, Mary, Thus power and hope were strength And I return to thee, mine own heart's home;

more and more As to his queen some victor knight of faery, Within me, till there came upon my Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome; A sense of loneliness, a thirst with w Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become

I pined.
A star among the stars of mortal night,
If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom,
Its doubtful promise thus I would unite Alas, that love should be a blight and
With thy beloved name, thou child of love To those who seek all sympathies in me

and light.
Such once I sought in vain; then baril


The shadow of a starless night, was there The toil which stole from thee so many an Over the world in which I moved ale


| Yet never found I one not false to me Is ended. And the fruit is at thy feet ! Hard hearts, and cold, like weights of in No longer where the woods to frame a bower

stone With interlaced branches mix and meet, Which crushed and withered mine, Or where with sound like many voicen sweet

could not be Water-falls leap among wild islands green Aught but a lifeless clog until revived Which framed for my lone boat a lone

thee. retreat Of moss-grown trees and weeds, shall I be

been :

Thou friend, whose presence on my winter But beside thee, where still my heart has

heart ever been. Fell like bright spring upon some herke


How beautiful and calm and free theu Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear In thy young wisdom, when the mortal cha

friend, when first of custom thou didst burst and rend in two The clouds which wrap this world from To walk as free as light the clouds a

youth did pass; Which many an envious slave then breathe I do remember well the hour which burst

in vain My spirit's sleep: a fresh Maydawn it was, From his dim dungeon, and my spirit speur When I walked forth upon the glittering To meet thee from the woes which is grass,

begirt it long! And wept I knew not why; until there rose From the near school-room, voices, that alas! Were but one echo from a world of woes, No more alone through the world's wilde The harsh and grating strise of tyrants and

of foes.

Although I trod the paths of high intent
I journeyed now: no more companionless

Where solitude is like despair, I wentAnd then I clasped my hands and looked There is the wisdom of a stern content


| When poverty can blight the just and go But none was near to mock my streaming When infamy dares mock the innocent.


And cherished friends turn with the me Which poured the warm drops on the sunny

titude ground

To trample: this was ours, and we unshala So without shame, I spakc:-1 will be wise, /



Now has descended a serener hour,

Truth's deathless voice pausen among Ind with inconstant fortune friends return;

mankind! Though suffering leaves the knowledge and if there must be no response to my cry

the power,

If men must rise and stamp with fury blind Which says :-let scorn be not repaid with On his pure name who loves them,- thou scorn.

and I, Ind from thy side two gentle babes are born Sweet friend! can look from our tranquillity Po fill our home with smiles, and thus are we Like lamps into the world's tempestuous Most fortunate beneath life's beaming morn;

night,Ind these delights, and thou, have been to me Two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing The parents of the song I consecrate to thee.

by, Which wrap them from the foundering sca

man's sight, is it that now my inexperienced fingers That burn from year to year with unextinBut strike the prelude to a loftier strain?

guished light. Dr must the lyre on which my spirit lingers joon pause in silence ne'er to sound again, Though it might shake the anarch Custom's

, reign, Ind charm the minds of men to Truth's own

LINES sway, Iolier than was Amphion's ? it would sain WRITTEN AMONG THE BUGANEAN HILLS. Reply in hope-but I am worn away, Ind death and love are yet contending for Sun-girt City, thou hast been

their prey.

Ocean's child, and then his queen;
Now is come a darker day,

And thou soon must be his prey,
Ind what art thou? I know, but dare not If the power that raised thee here


Hallow so thy watery bier. Time may interpret to his silent years. A less drear ruin then than now, let in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek, With thy conquest-branded brow Ind in the light thine ample forehead wears, Stooping to the slave of slaves Ind in thy sweetest smiles, and in thy tears, From thy throne, among the waves Ind in thy gentle speech, a prophery Wilt thou be, when the sea-mew 8 whispered to subdue my fondent fears : Flies, as once before it flew, Ind, through thine eyes,even in thy soul I see O'er thine isles depopulate, | lamp of vestal fire burning internally. And all is in its antient state,

Save where many a palace-gate

With green sea-flowers overgrown They say that thou wert lovely from thy Like a rock of ocean’s own,


Topples o'er the abandoned sea Of glorious parents, thou aspiring child. As the tides change sullenly.

wonder not-for one then left this earth The fisher on his watery way, Whose life was like a setting planet mild, Wandering at the close of day, Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled Will spread his sail and seize his oar Of its departing glory; still her fame | Till he pass the gloomy shore, Shines on thee, through the tempesta dark Lest thy dead should, from their sleep

and wild

| Bursting o'er the starlight deep, Which shake these latter days, and thou Lead a rapid masque of death

canst claim

O'er the waters of his path. Che shelter from thy sire, of an immortal


Those who alone thy towers behold

Quivering through aerial gold, Une voice came forth from many a mighty As I now behold them here,


Would imagine not they were Which was the echo of three thousand years; Sepulchres, where human forms, Ind the tumultuous world stood mute to Like pollution-nourished worms,

hear it,

To the corpse of greatness cling, Is some lone man, who in a desart hears Murdered, and now mouldering: The music of his home:-unwonted fears But if Freedom should awake

ell on the pale oppressors of our race, In her omnipotence, and shake Ind faith and custom and low-thoughted cares From the Celtic Anarch's hold vike thunder-stricken dragons, for a space All the keys of dungeons cold, eft the torn human heart, their food and Where a hundred cities lie

dwelling-place. Chained like thce, ingloriously,

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