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POEMS WRITTEN IN 1818.

SONNET, TO THE NILE.

Month after month the gathered rains descend
Drenching yon secret Æthiopian dells,
And from the desert's ice-girt pinnacles
Where Frost and Heat in strange embraces

blend On Atlas, fields of moist snow half depend. Girt there with blasts and meteors Tempest

dwells By Nile's aërial urn, with rapid spells Urging those waters to their mighty end. O’er Egypt's land of Memory floods are level; And they are thine, O Nile—and well thou

knowest That soul-sustaining airs and blasts of evil And fruits and poisons spring where'er thou

flowest. Beware, O Man-for knowledge must to thee Like the great flood to Egypt ever be.

PASSAGE OF THE APENNINES.

LISTEN, listen, Mary mine,
To the whisper of the Apennine;
It bursts on the roof like the thunder's roar,
Or like the sea on a northern shore,
Heard in its raging ebb and flow.
By the captives pent in the cave below.
The Apennine in the light of day

Is a mighty mountain dim and grey,
Which between the earth and sky doth lay;
But when night comes, a chaos dread
On the dim starlight then is spread,
And the Apennine walks abroad with the

storm.

THE PAST.

Wilt thou forget the happy hours
Which we buried in Love's sweet bowers,
Heaping over their corpses cold
Blossoms and leaves instead of mould ?
Blossoms which were the joys that fell.

And leaves, the hopes that yet remain.

II.

Forget the dead, the past ? O yet
There are ghosts that may take revenge for it,
Memories that make the heart a tomb,
Regrets which glide through the spirit’s gloom,
And with ghastly whispers tell

That joy, once lost, is pain.

SONNET.

LIFT not the painted veil which those who live Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured

there, And it but mimic all we would believe With colours idly spread,-behind, lurk Fear And Hope, twin destinies ; who ever weave

Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and

drear. I knew one who had lifted it—he sought, For his lost heart was tender, things to love, But found them not, alas ! nor was there aught The world contains, the which he could approve. Through the unheeding many he did move, A splendour among shadows, a bright blot Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.

INVOCATION TO MISERY.

1.
COME, be happy !-sit by me,
Shadow-vested Misery :
Coy, unwilling, silent bride,
Mourning in thy robe of pride,
Desolation-deified !

II.
Come, be happy!-sit near me:
Sad as I may seem to thee,
I am happier far than thou,
Lady, whose imperial brow
Is endiademed with woe.

III.
Misery! we have known each other,
Like a sister and a brother
Living in the same lone home,
Many years—we must live some
Hours or ages yet to come.

IV.
'Tis an evil lot, and yet
Let us make the best of it;

If love lives when pleasure dies,
We will love, till in our eyes
This heart's Hell seem Paradise.

* v.
Come, be happy !-lie thee down
On the fresh grass newly mown,
Where the Grasshopper doth sing
Merrily-one joyous thing
In a world of sorrowing!

VI.

There our tent shall be the willow,
And thine arm shall be my pillow;
Sounds and odours, sorrowful
Because they once were sweet, shall lull
Us to slumber, deep and dull.

VII. Ha! thy frozen pulses flutter With a love thou darest pot utter. Thou art murmuring—thou art weepingIs thine icy bosom leaping While my burning heart lies sleeping ?

VIII.
Kiss me ;-oh! thy lips are cold :
Round my neck thine arms enfold-
They are soft, but chill and dead;
And thy tears upon my head
Burn like points of frozen lead.

IX.
Hasten to the bridal bed-
Underneath the grave 'tis spread :
In darkness may our love be hid,
Oblivion be our coverlid-
We may rest, and none forbid.

Clasp me till our hearts be grown
Like two shadows into one;
Till this dreadful transport may
Like a vapour fade away,
In the sleep that lasts alway.

XI.
We may dream, in that long sleep,
That we are not those who weep;
E'en as Pleasure dreams of thee,
Life-deserting Misery,
Thou mayst dream of her with me.

XII.

th,

Let us laugh, and make our mirth,
At the shadows of the earth,
As dogs bay the moonlight clouds,
Which, like spectres wrapped in shrouds,
Pass o'er night in multitudes.

XIII.

All the wide world, beside us,
Show like multitudinous
Puppets passing from a scene;
What but mockery can they mean,
Where I am—where thou hast been ?

STANZAS,

WRITTEN IN DEJECTION NEAR NAPLES.

1.

The sun is warm, the sky is clear,

The waves are dancing fast and bright,

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