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XCII.
The parted bosom clings to wonted home,
If aught that's kindred cheer the welcome hearth;
He that is lonely hither let him roam,
And gaze complacent on congenial earth.
Greece is no lightsome land of social mirth;
But he whom Sadness sootheth may abide,
And scarce regret the region of his birth,

When wandering slow by Delphi’s sacred side,
Or gazing o'er the plains where Greek and Persian died.

XCIII. -
Let such approach this consecrated land,
And pass in peace along the magic waste:
But spare its relics—let no busy hand
Deface the scenes, already how defac'd!
Not for such purpose were these altars plac'd:
Revere the remnants nations once rever'd;
So may our country's name be undisgrac’d,

So may'st thou prosper where thy youth was rear'd, By every honest joy of love and life endear'd!.

XCIV. For thee, who thus in too protracted song Hast sooth'd thine idlesse with inglorious lays, Soon shall thy voice be lost amid the throng Of louder minstrels in these later days: To such resign the strife for fading bays Ill may such contest now the spirit move Which heeds nor keen reproach nor partial praise;

Since cold each kinder heart that might approve, And none are left to please when none are left to love.

XCV. Thou too art gone, thou lov'd and lovely one! Whom youth and youth's affection bound to me; Who did for me what none beside have done, Nor shrank from one albeit unworthy thee. What is my being? thou hast ceas'd to be! Nor staid to welcome here thy wanderer home, Who mourns o'er hours which we no more shall see

Would they had never been, or were to come! Would he had ne'er return’d to find fresh cause to roam!

XCVI.
Oh! ever loving, lovely, and belov?d!
How selfish Sorrow ponders on the past,
And clings to thoughts now better far remov'd!
But Time shall tear thy shadow from me last.
All thou could'st have of mine, stern Death! thou hast;
The parent, friend, and now the more than friend:
Ne'er yet for one thine arrows flew so fast,

And grief with grief continuing still to blend,
Hath snatch'd the little joy that life had yet to lend.

XCVII.
Then must I plunge again into the crowd,
And follow all that Peace disdains to seek ?
Where Revel calls, and Laughter, vainly loud,
False to the heart, distorts the hollow cheek,
To leave the flagging spirit doubly weak;
Still o'er the features, which perforce they cheer,
To feign the pleasure or conceal the pique;

Smiles form the channel of a future tear,
Or raise the writhing lip with ill-dissembled sneer.

XCVIII. What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loy'd one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now. Before the Chastener humbly let me bow, O'er hearts divided and o'er hopes destroy'd: Roll on, vain days! full reckless may ye flow,

Since Time hath reft whate'er my soul enjoy’d, And with the ills of Eld mine earlier years alloy'd.

NOTES.

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