146 and Ocean mid his uproar wild hence for many a fearless age has social Quiet loved thy shore, nor ever proud invader's rage or sacked thy towers or stained thy fields with gore. SWEET SONG TO ECHO S. T. COLERIDGE WEET Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen within thy airy shell, by slow Meander's margent green, and in the violet-embroidered vale where the love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; that likest thy Narcissus are? Oh! if thou have hid them in some flowery cave, sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere, NOT OT faster yonder rowers' might than men from memory erase Then if in life's uncertain main if faithful, wise and brave in vain, beneath the fickle gale; waste not a sigh on fortune changed, on thankless courts or friends estranged. SIR W. SCOTT 148 149 150 TO CONTEMPLATION VIEW thee on the calmy shore when Ocean stills his waves to rest; or when slow-moving on the surges hoar meet with deep hollow roar and whiten o'er his breast; or lo! the moon with softer radiance gleams, When the low gales of evening moan along, I love with thee to feel the calm cool breeze, and roam the pathless forest wilds among, listening the mellow murmur of the trees full-foliaged, as they lift their arms on high and wave their shadowy heads in wildest melody. R. SOUTHEY ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE 1740 THOU my lyre, awake, arise, whose stores for mischief arm the sky! DAVID'S SONG TO MICHAL awake, my Lyre! M. AKENSIDE AWAKE Way silent master's humble tale in sounds that may prevail; sounds that gentle thoughts inspire. 151 Though so exalted she, tell her, such different notes make all thy harmony. Hark! how the strings awake: and, though the moving hand approach not near, a kind of numerous trembling make. now all thy charms apply; revenge upon her ear the conquests of her eye. is useless here, since thou art only found to cure, but not to wound, and she to wound, but not to cure. my passion to remove; physic to other ills, thou'rt nourishment to love. for thou canst never tell my humble tale nor gentle thoughts in her inspire; all thy vain mirth lay by, bid thy strings silent lie, sleep, sleep again, my Lyre, and let thy master die. 152 A. COWLEY REDEEM THE PAST IS vanished all-in hurried flight 'TIS ere yet I felt Time's trophies white were sprinkled on my brow,-or thought, that since the light beamed on me, what long years had flown; time's snows are on my forehead thrown, and many a winter now and many a spring are gone. But what doth this, all this, avail? for soon, too soon, oblivion pale will blot alike the good and evil of my tale. that world is lost, which flattered thee, sin's robes away-redeem the past, if not in deeds, in words to praise thy Maker haste. 153 154 LIFE How quickly is it run! WOW short is Life's uncertain space! how swift the wild precarious chase, and what the prize when won! Youth stops at first its wilful ears What though its prospects now appear yet groundless Hope, and teasing Fear, HEAVEN HIS world is all a fleeting show, Tfor man's illusion given; the smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe, there's nothing true but Heaven! J. MERRICK and Love and Hope, and Beauty's bloom Poor wanderers of a stormy day, there's nothing calm but Heaven! T. MOORE 155 ON REVIsiting the scenes of his CHILDHOOD WITH lorn delight the scene I view'd, WITH past joys and sorrows were renew'd; my infant hopes and fears look'd lovely through the solitude of retrospective years. And still, in Memory's twilight bowers, with mellowing tints, pourtray the blossoms of life's vernal flowers Till youth's delirious dream is o'er, in age, when error charms no more, 156 J. MONTGOMERY MORPHEUS MORPHEUS, the humble god that dwells in cottages and smoky cells, hates gilded roofs and beds of down; Come, I say, thou powerful god, and thy leaden charming rod dipt in the Lethean lake, o'er his wakeful temples shake, lest he should sleep and never wake. and both are the same thing at last. SIR J. DENHAM 157 TO A CHILD EMBRACING HIS MOTHER OVE thy mother, little one! LOVE kiss and clasp her neck again,— will kiss and clasp her neck in vain. Gaze upon her living eyes, and mirror back her love for thee,- |