And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute, And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A noise like of a hidden brook CONCLUSION. Farewell, farewell! but this I tell He prayeth best who loveth best COLERIDGE. (Ancient Mariner.) THE PIG. A colloquial Poem. JACOB, I do not love to see thy nose THE PIG. Were perfect in our kind! And why despise Is he obstinate? He knows that his unmerciful drivers seek And baconised; that he must please to give Perhaps, . . . hark, Jacob, dost thou hear that horn? Woe to the young posterity of Pork! Their enemy's at hand. Again. Thou say'st Fancy it drest, and with saltpetre rouged. Rings round her lover's soul the chains of love. Of parts harmonious? give thy fancy scope, Give him the swan's white breast; for his hornhoofs Shape such a foot and ancle as the waves Crowded in eager rivalry to kiss, When Venus from the enamoured sea arose. Jacob, thou canst but make a monster of him! All alteration man could think would mar His pig-perfection. The last charge :-he lives A dirty life. Here I could shelter him To thrive by dirty ways. But let me rest That stuffs him to the throat-gates, is no more. Spirit is all, and all things visible Are one, the infinitely modified; Think, Jacob, what that pig is, and the mire And there! that breeze Pleads with me, and has won thee to the smile That speaks conviction. O'er yon blossom'd field Of beans it came, and thoughts of bacon rise. SOUTHEY. CASABIANCA. Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the Admiral of the Orient, remained at his post, in the battle of the Nile, after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned. He perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder. THE boy stood on the burning deck, Yet beautiful and bright he stood, A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form. The flames rolled on-he would not go, He called aloud, "Say, father, say, He knew not that the chieftain lay 38 CASABIANCA. Speak, father!" once again he cried, And," but the booming shots replied, Upon his brow he felt their breath, And look'd from that lone post of death And shouted but once more aloud, "My father, must I stay?" While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, They wrapp'd the ship in splendour wild, And stream'd above the gallant child There came a burst of thunder-sound With mast and helm and pennon fair, MRS. HEMANS. |