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Till haply startled by some fleecy dam, Where INSPIRATION, his diviner strains
the rocks Made ineek enquiry for her wandering lamb: Stiff evergreens, whose spreading foliage Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet
mocks to climb,
Want's barren soil, and the bleak frosts of E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness
age, How more than sweet, if some dear friend And Bigotry's mad fire-invoking rage!
should bless 0 meek retiring spirit! we will climb, Th’advent'rous toil, and up the path sublime Cheering and cheer'd, this lovely hill sublime; Now lead, now follow: the glad landscape And from the stirring world up-lifted high,
(Whose noises, faintly wafted on the wind, Wide and more wide increasing without To quiet musings shall attune the mind,
And oft the melancholy theme supply)
Our hopes, our knowledge, and our joys the Beneath the cypress, or the yew more dark,
same, Seated at ease, on some smooth mossy rock; As neighbouring fountains image, each the In social silence now, and now t'unlock
whole: The treasur'd heart; arm link'd in friendly Then when the mind hath drank its fill of arm,
truth, Save if the one, his muse's witching charm We'll discipline the heart to pure delight, Mutt'ring brow-bent, at unwatch'd distance Rekindling sober joy's domestic flame.
They whom I love shall love thee. Honor'd Till high o'er head his beck’ning friend
Now may Heaven realize this vision bright! And from the forehead of the topmost crag Shouts eagerly: for haply there uprears That shadowing ping its old romantic limbs, Which latest sliall detain th'enamoured sight Seen from below, when eve the valley dims, Ting d yellow with the rich departing light; ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG MAN OF And haply, bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft,
FORTUNE A beauteous spring, the rock's collected
WHO ABANDON'D HIMSELF TO AN INDOLENT AND Sleeps shelter'd there, scarce wrinkled by
the gale! Together thus, the world's vain turmoil left, Hence that fantastic wantonness of woe, Stretch'd on the crag, and shadow'd by the O Youth to partial Fortune vainly dear!
To plunder'd Want's half-shelter'd hovel go, And bending o'er the clear delicious fount, Go, and some hunger-bitten Infant hear Ah! dearest youth! it were a lot divine Moan haply in a dying Mother's ear : To cheat our noons in moralizing mood, Or when the cold and dismal fog-damps brood While west-winds fann'd our temples toil- O'er the rank church-yard with sear elmbedew'd:
leaves strew'd, Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from Pace round some widow's grave, whose the mount,
dearer part To some lone mansion, in some woody dale, Was slaughter’d, where o'er his uncoffin'd Where smiling with blue eye, DOMESTIC BLISS
limbs Gives this the Husband's, that the Brother's The flocking flesh-birds scream'd! Then, kiss !
while thy heart Groans, and thine eye a fiercer sorrow dims,
Know (and the truth shall kindle thy young Thus rudely vers’d in allegoric lore,
mind) The Hill of Knowledge I essay'd to trace; What nature makes thee mourn, she bids That verd'rous hill with many a resting-place,
thee heal! And many a stream, whose warbling waters O abject! if, to sickly dreams resign'd,
All effortless thou leave life's commonTo glad and fertilize the subject plains ;
weal That hill with secret springs, and nooks A prey to Tyrants, Murderers of Mankind.
untrod, And many a fancy-blest and holy sod
IMITATED FROM STOLBERG.
TELL'S BIRTH - PLACE. The counter-weights !- Thy laughter and
thy tears Mean but themselves, each fittest to create
And to repay the other! Why rejoices Mark this holy chapel well!
Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good, The birth-place, this, of WILLIAM T'ell. Why cowl thy face beneath the Mourner's Here, where stands God's altar dread,
hood, Stood his parents' marriage-bed.
Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting
voices, Here first, an infant to her breast,
Image of Image, Ghost of Ghostly Elf, Him his loving mother prest;
That such a thing, as thou, feelst warm And kiss'd the babe, and bless'd the day,
or cold! And pray'd as mothers use to pray :
Yet what and whence thy gain, if thou
withhold Vouchsafe him health, oh God! and give These costless shadows of thy shadowy self? The child thy servant still to live!
Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun! But God had destined to do more
Thou hast no reason why! Thou can't have Through him, than through an armed power.
Thy being's being is contradiction.
AN ODE TO THE RAIN.
Composed before day-light, on the morning appoint
ed' for the departure of a very worthy, but bat Where flash'd and roar'd the torrent, oft
very pleasant Visitor, whom it was feared the His soul found wings, and soar'd aloft! rain might detain. The straining oar and chamois-chase I know it is dark; and though I have lain Had form’d his limbs to strength and grace: Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain, On wave and wind the boy would toss, I have not once opend the lids of my eyes, Was great, nor knew how great he was !
But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.
0 Rain! that I lie listening to, He knew not that his chosen hand,
You're but a doleful sound at best:
0 Rain! you will but take your flight,
But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!
ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY.
0 Rain! with your dull two-fold sound,
The clash hard by, and the murmur all A FRAGMENT.
You know, if you know aught, that we, If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare For days, and months, and almost years,
Both night and day, but ill agree: As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom, Have limp'd on thro' this vale of tears, Whose sound and motion not alone declare, Since body of mine and rainy weather But are their whole of being! If the breath Have liv'd on easy terms together. Be life itself, and not its task and tent,
Yet if, as soon as it is light, If ev'n a soul like Milton's can know death: 0 Rain! you will but take your flight, O Man! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant, Though you should come again to-morrow, Yet drone-hive strange of phantom-purposes, And bring with you both pain and sorrow; Surplus of nature's dread activity,
Tho' stomach should sicken, and knees Which, as she gaz'd on some nigh-finish'd
I'll nothing speak of you but well.
But only now for this one day,
You're a good creature in your way:
up my Soul!
Nay, I could write a book myself, Me rather, bright guests! with your wings Would fit a parson’s lower shelf,
of upbuoyance Shewing, how very good you are- Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets What then? sometimes it must be fair!
of joyance, And if sometimes, why not to day? That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre! Do go, dear Rain! do go away!
Ah! we mount! on their pinions they waft
O give me the Nectar!
o fill me the Bowl!
Give him the Nectar!
Pour out for the Poet!
Hebe! pour free!
That Styx the detested no more he may view, We three, you mark! and not one more! And like one of us Gods may conceit him to be! The strong wish makes my spirit sore. Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Jo Pæan, I cry! We have so much to talk about,
The Wine of the Immortals
Forbids me to die !
AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN.
And this I'll swear to you, dear Rain! ALL hail! thou noble Land,
Our Fathers native soil!
O stretch thy mighty hand, (And by the bye 'tis understood,
Gigantic grown by toil, You're not so pleasant, as you're good),
O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore:
Canst reach to where the light
The world o'er!
The Genius of our clime,
From his pine-embattled steep, Uninvited to remain.
Shall hail the guest sublime; But only now, for this one day,
While the Tritons of the deep Do go, dear Rain ! do go away.
With their conchs the kindred league shall
proclaim. Then let the world combineO'er the main our Naval Line
Like the milky way shall shine THE VISIT OF THE GODS.
Bright in fame!
Though ages long have past
Since our Fathers left their home,
Their pilot in the blast,
O'er untravellid seas to roam,
Yet lives the blood of England in our veins !
And shall we not proclaim Scarce had I welcom'd the Sorrow-beguiler, That blood of honest fame Jacchus! but in came Boy Cupid, the Smiler; Which. no tyranny can tame Lo! Phæbus, the Glorious, descends from By its chains ?
Which the Bard of Avon sung,
In which our Milton told
How the vault of Heaven rung
While this, with rev'rence meet,
Ten thousand echoes greet,
From rock to rock repeat
Round our coast ;
While the manners, while the arts, To know and loathc, yet wish and do!
Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me?
To be beloved is all I need,
Yet still from either beach
THE DESTINY OF NATIONS.
THE PAINS OF SLEEP.
Auspicious REVERENCE! Hush all meaner
song, ERE on my bed my limbs I lay,
Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured It hath not been my use to pray
To the Great Father, only RIGHTFUL King,
ETERNAL FATHER! KING OMNIPOTENT!
Beneath whose shadowy banners, wide unMy spirit I to Love compose,
furl'd, In humble Trust mine eye-lids close,
Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling hosts. With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed ! Only a sense of supplication,
Such symphony requires best instrument. A sense o'er all my soul imprest
Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom's troThat I am weak, yet not unblest,
phied dome Since in me, round me, everywhere
The Harp which hangeth high between the Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.
Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back But yester-night
Earth’s free and stirring spirit that lies In anguish and in agony,
entranced. Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: For what is Freedom, but the unfetter'd use A Jurid light, a trampling throng, Of all the powers which God for use had Sense of intolerable wrong,
given? And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! But chiefly this, him first, bim last to view Thirst of revenge, the powerless will Through meaner powers and secondary thing Still baffled, and yet burning still! Effulgent, as through clouds that veil him Desire with loathing strangely mixed
blaze. On wild or hateful objects fixed.
For all that meets the bodily sense I deem Fantastic passions ! mad’ning brawl! Symbolical, one mighty alphabet And shame and terror over all!
For infant minds; and we in this low world Deeds to be hid which were not hid, Placed with our backs to bright Reality, Which all confused I could not know, That we may learn with young unwounded Whether I suffered, or I did :
ken For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe, The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love, My own or others still the same
Whose latence is the plenitnde of All,
Veiling revealest thy eternal Sun.
But some there are who deem themselves Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me
most free Distemper's worst calamity.
When they within this gross and visible The third night, when my own loud scream
sphere Had waked me from the fiendish dream, Chain down the winged thought, scoffing O’ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
ascent, I wept as I had been a child;
Proud in their meanness: and themselves And having thus by tears subdued
they cheat My anguish to a milder mood,
With noisy emptiness of learned phrase, Such punishments, I said, were due Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences, To natures deepliest staind with sin: Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all For aye entempesting anew
Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Th’ unfathomable hell within
Slaves, The borror of their deeds to view,
Untenanting creation of its God.
But properties are God: the naked mass Whether of pitying Spirits that make their (If nass there be, fantastic Guess or
O’er slaughter'd infants, or that Giant-Bird Acts only by its inactivity.
Vuokho, of whose rushing wings the noise Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier think 18 Tempest, when the unutterable shape That as one body seems the aggregate Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters Of Atoms numberless, each organized : So by a strange and dim similitude That shriek, which never Murderer heard, Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds
and lived. Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance With absolute ubiquity of thought
Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean's bed (His one eternal self-affirming Act!) (Where live the innocent as far from cares All his involved Monads, that yet seem As from the storms and overwhelming waves With various province and apt agency Dark tumbling on the surface of the deep), Each to pursue its own self-centering end. Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave Some nurse the infant-diamond in the mine; By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered, such Some roll the genial juices through the oak; As Earth ne'er bred, nor Air, nor the upper Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in
Sea. air, And rushing on the storm with whirlwind
There dwells the Fury-Form, whose unYoke the red lightning to their vollying car.
heard name Thus these pursue their never - varying
With eager eye,pale cheek, suspended breath, course,
And lips half-opening with the dread of sound, No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild, Unsleeping Silence guards, worn out with
fear With complex interests weaving human fates, Duteous or proud, alike obedient all,
Lest haply escaping on some treacherous blast Evolve the process of eternal good.
The fateful word let slip the Elements
Armed with Torngarsuck's power, the SpiAnd what if some, rebellious, o'er dark
rit of Good, Forces to unchain the foodful progeny
realms Arrogate power? yet these train up to God, Of the Ocean stream.— Wild phantasies! yet
wise, And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day, Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom. on the victorious goodness of high God As ere from Lieule-Oaive's vapoury head
Teaching reliance, and medicinal hope, The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun
Till, from Bethabra northward, heavenly Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows,
Truth While yet the stern and solitary Night
With gradual steps winning her difficult way, Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure. With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam, Guiding his course or by Niemi lake Or Balda-Zhiok, or the mossy stone
If there be Beings of higher class than Man, of Solfar-Kapper, while the snowy blast
I deem no nobler provincc they possess, Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge, Than by disposal of apt circumstance Making the poor babe at its mother's back To rear up Kingdoms: and the deeds they Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while
prompt, Wins gentle solace as with upward eye
Distinguishing from mortal agency, He marks the streamy banners of the North, They chuse their human ministers from such
states Thinking himself those happy spirits shall
As still the Epic Song half fears to name, Who there in floating robes of rosy light
Repelled from all the Minstrelsies that strike Dance sportively. For Fancy is the Power The palace-roof and sooth the Monarch's That first unsensualizes the dark mind,
pride. Giving it new delights; and bids it swell With wild activity; and, peopling air, And such, perhaps, the Spirit, who (if By obscure fears of Beings invisible,
words Emancipates it from the grosser thrall Witnessed by answering deeds may claim of the present impulse, teaching Self-con
our faith) troul,
Held commune with that warrior-maid of Till Saperstition with unconscious hand
France Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not Who scourg'd the Invader.–From her infantvain,
days, Nor yet without permitted power impress’d, With Wisdom, Mother of retired Thoughts, I deem those legends terrible, with which Her soul had dwelt; and she was quick to The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng: