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scorn;

It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear, Shall be steeped in his own salt tear: Far better, far better he never were born Than to shame merry England here.

CHO. Shout for England! etc. There standeth our ancient enemy; Hark! he shouteth - the ancient enemy!

On the ridge of the hill his banners rise They stream like fire in the skies; Hold up the Lion of England on high Till it dazzle and blind his eyes.

CHO.Shout for England! etc. Come along! we alone of the earth are free;

The child in our cradles is bolder than he;

For where is the heart and strength of slaves?

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SONG.

Whither away, whither away, whither away? Fly no more:

Whither away wi' the singing sail?
whither away wi' the oar?
Whither away from the high green field
and the happy blossoming shore?
Weary mariners, hither away,
One and all, one and all,
Weary mariners, come and play;
We will sing to you all the day;

Furl the sail and the foam will fall
From the prow! One and all
Furl the sail! Drop the oar!
Leap ashore,

Know danger and trouble and toil no

more,

Whither away wi' the sail and the oar?
Drop the oar,
Leap ashore,
Fly no more!

Whither away wi' the sail? whither away wi' the oar?

Day and night to the billow the foun tain calls:

Down shower the gambolling water-
falls

From wandering over the lea;
They freshen the silvery-crimson shells,
And thick with white bells the clover-
hill swells

High over the full-toned sea.
Merrily carol the revelling gales
Over the islands free :

From the green seabanks the rose
down trails

To the happy brimméd sea. Come hither, come hither and be our lords,

For merry brides are we : We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words.

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten

With pleasure and love and revelry ; O listen, listen, your eyes shall glis ten,

When the sharp clear twang of the gold. en chords

Runs up the ridgéd sea. Ye will not find so happy a shore, Weary mariners! all the world o'er ; O, fly no more!

Hearken ye, hearken ye, sorrow shall darken ye,

Danger and trouble and toil no more;

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There is no rest, no calm, no pause,

Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, Nor essence nor eternal laws :

For nothing is, but all is made. But if I dream that all these are, They are to me for that I dream;

ALL thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are For all things are as they seem to all,

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And all things flow like a stream.

Argal this very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing philosophers.

POEMS PUBLISHED IN THE EDITION OF 1833, AND OMITTED IN LATER EDITIONS.

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THE North-wind fall'n, in the new-starréd night

Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond
The hoary promontory of Soloe
Past Thymiaterion, in calmed bays,
Between the southern and the western
Horn,

Heard neither warbling of the nightingale,
Nor melody of the Libyan lotus flute
Blown seaward from the shore; but from
a slope

That ran bloom-bright into the Atlantic blue,

Beneath a highland leaning down a weight Ofcliffs, and zoned below with cedar shade, Came voices, like the voices in a dream, Continuous, till he reached the outer sea.

SONG.

I.

Round about the hallowed fruit tree

curled

Sing away, sing aloud evermore in the wind, without stop,

The golden apple, the golden apple, the Lest his scaled eyelid drop,

hallowed fruit,

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For he is older than the world.
If he waken, we waken,
Rapidly levelling eager eyes.
If he sleep, we sleep,

If the golden apple be taken,
Dropping the eyelid over the eyes.

The world will be overwise.
Five links, a golden chain, are we,
Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,
Bound about the golden tree.

III.

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day,

Lest the old wound of the world be healed,
The glory unsealed,

The golden apple stolen away,
And the ancient secret revealed.
Look from west to east along :
Father, old Himala weakens, Caucasus
is bold and strong.

Wandering waters unto wandering waters call;

Let them clash together, foam and fall.
Out of watchings, out of wiles,
Comes the bliss of secret smiles.
All things are not told to all.
Half-round the mantling night is drawn,
Purple fringed with even and dawn,
Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth

morn.

IV.

II.

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye,

Looking under silver hair with a silver eye.

Father, twinkle not thy steadfast sight;
Kingdoms lapse, and climates change,
and races die;
Honor comes with mystery;
Hoarded wisdom brings delight.
Number, tell them over and number
How many the mystic fruit-tree holds
Lest the red-combed dragon slumber
Rolled together in purple folds.
Look to him, father, lest he wink, and
the golden apple be stol'n away,
For his ancient heart is drunk with over-
watchings night and day,

Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath

Of this warm sea-wind ripeneth,
Arching the billow in his sleep;
But the land-wind wandereth,
Broken by the highland-steep,
Two streams upon the violet deep;
For the western sun and the western star,
And the low west-wind, breathing afar,
The end of day and beginning of night
Make the apple holy and bright;
Holy and bright, round and full, bright
and blest,

Mellowed in a land of rest;
Watch it warily day and night;
All good things are in the west.
Till mid noon the cool east light
Is shut out by the tall hillbrow;

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