"Forgive our prayer!" the Mice, appall'd, replied; -that Stilton on the other side."

"And grant

"Blaspheming Reprobates! that cheese is theirs "Who serve the Great Rat with their weekly prayers." The Mice were shocked-"That Cheshire, noble Rats,"

"We keep in case of danger from the Cats."

"Enough!" the Mice replied, with fainting voice; "Give what you please, we leave to you the choice." "To us 't is right—'t is wise❞—the Rats return; "Our love for Mice you have not now to learn! "We have done all we could the times to meet, "We've taken off the duty upon meat.

"We've lowered the price of butter long ago, "And cream is now scarce taxed at all-you know. "Three Rats too highly paid we did discard "Last week; we've just reduced the daily guard! "In short, we have done all within the law "To meet your wishes;-Gentlemen, withdraw." "Sir Rats!" replied a Mouse, " though this be true, "Alas! with meat we Mice have naught to do. "Or taxed or free, to us a baseless dream "The hope of butter, or the thought of cream; "As for the rest, you must, I think, perceive "You do your Lordships-not poor Mice-relieve!” The Rats waxed wondrous wrath at this reply, And some suggested that the Mice should die; But on one hand—the creatures, though so small, Were strong in numbers nor would tamely fall. And on the other-when in due control, The plagues were vastly useful on the whole. "T was not the case where force is wisely shown, We can't in all times give for bread a stone. The Rats most sagely therefore checked their ire, And answered, "Well! what is it you desire?

"We've done our best-nor can contend with Fate, "And all this cheese is wanted for the state;

"You would not steal it!"-"Steal it, sirs!" replied The little Hampden' on the starving side.

*

"Steal it!-Alas! it is not we who steal "From the fat larders of the Public weal; "But just to quite convince us nothing there "To our distress-the public wants may spare; "Grant us the right these stores that we collect"Nay-not to eat-but, like yourselves-inspect. "Oh! could we send our delegates, no doubt "Some crumb of comfort they would ferret out; "For Rats, I fear-how kind soe'er this House, "Take views for Mice quite different from a Mouse!" On this a RAT in many a war well known, Bold-wary-sage-and hoary in renown;— More versed indeed, 't was sometimes said politely, To beard Cat than carve a Stilton rightly; Better in Camps than Council-but of late Raised to control, and not defend, the StateWith all the Patriot sparkling in his eyes, Starts up and thus indignantly replies:"O idle theorists or rebellious rogues! "Dupes-dreamers-drivellers-dunces-dema

gogues

"Think you the Rats to humbug, and enlist 'em "Against the glories of the present system.

"What raised this happy nation to its height?

"What brought such phalanxed heroes to the fight? "What-when our valour won returning ease"Heaped all our treasuries with such loads of cheese? "What made us grow so famous and so fat? "What fired the nations with the name of Rat? "What favoured virtue ?-What subjected vice? "What—but our mode of representing Mice? "Never, in all my studies through the page "Which lights the present, by a former age, "Seemed any Rats thus lucky in inventing "The noble system of Mouse-representing."

He ceased-and warming with the glorious theme,
Cooled his gray whiskers in a bowl of cream.

Amid the "hears" of the applauding House, Replied the weak voice of our hungry Mouse: "Your reasoning may for Rats indeed suffice; "But, O great sir! you quite forget the Mice!"

TO INA.

OUR hour is past-and I must bear
The fate thou canst not soothe-alone :
And woo whatever steps may wear
The green moss from the stone;

For whose the thoughts that round me twine
One soft-one fresh remembrance ?-thine!-

But tell me not in crowds to prove

How vain is all that Pride would claim;
The charm of life that's lost in Love
Is never found in Fame;

When once the film is from the eyes,
Truth leaves the fancy naught to prize!

Yet fain my heart would seek to show
It was not all unworthy thine,
And fame were sweet if thou couldst know
Thy memory made it mine.

Thy memory! -can I think that word,
While life is thine, from me is heard?

And yet it soothes-since thou didst form
Thy nest upon so rude a tree,

It soothes me, henceforth, that the storm
Can only fall on me!

With thee life's very verdure past-
To withered stems what boots the blast!

Away the lyre-it hath no strain

In which a love like ours should speak

But we may never meet again,

For hearts-like ties-will break ;And I would fain that thou shouldst see That mine-till broken-is with thee!

TO INA IN ABSENCE.

(FOUR YEARS AFTER THE LAST.)

THOU only hast been more to me

Than aught my prophet dreams foretold;
The wildest thoughts when turned to thee,
My memory mocks as cold.

In earlier loves, my strain would tell
Of burning hopes and wasting sighs;
But when I think of thee, I feel

The tears are in my eyes.

'Tis strangely sweet on thee to muse;
A sweet, yet scarce a glad emotion;
For naught the rising heart subdues
Like Love's recalled devotion.
In silent depth the thoughts that form
Their tides above thine image swell;
And thou protect'st them from the storm,
Sweet Spirit of the Well!

Thou tell'st me thou canst scarce believe
My heart the record of my vow;
Thou'dst think no more it could deceive,
Didst thou behold it now!

Thou tell'st me thou wilt scarcely deem
Thy thought can reach me from afar;
What! doubt the light upon the stream,
Go-doubt thyself, my star!

Yet is there that-and right thou art

Whose warmth, whose brightness can reprove,

And shame the love within my heart,
-It is the heart I love!

ORAMA,

OR THE SOUL AND ITS FUTURE.

THIN, shadowy, scarce divided from the light,
I saw a Phantom at the birth of morn;
Its robe was sable, but a fleecy white

Flowed silvery o'er the garb of gloom : a horn
It held within its hand;-no human breath

Stirred its wan lips ;-deathlike, it seemed not death!
My heart lay numb within me—and the glow
Of the glad life waxed faint, and icelike crept;
The pulses of my being seemed to grow
One awe!-voice fled the body as it slept,

But from its startled depths, th' o'erlaboured Soul Spake, kinglike, out-"What art Thou that wouldst

seem

"To have o'er Immortality control?"

And the shape answered-not by sound—“ A DREAM! "A Dream-but not a Dream! the shade of things "To come; a Spirit from the thrones of Fate, "I ruled the hearts of Earth's primeval Kings; "I gave their life its impulse and its date; "Gray Wisdom paled before me; and the Stars "Were made my weird Interpreters-my hand "Aroused the whirlwind of the destined wars,

"And bowed the Nations to my dim command! "A Dream, but not a Dream-a type, a sign "Of the vast future do I come to thee! "And where I come, I AM THE FUTURE!-Thine, "Behold, and tremble to behold, in ME.

"What, thou wouldst rise?—the lesser flights of Fame "Content thee not-thy heart hath grown a fire,

"And the arch priest Ambition feeds the flame "With the prophetic laurel”* of desire.

* Μαντικόν φυτόν.