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That broods above the fallen sun, | Where faction seldom gathers heail,
And dwells in heaven half the night. | But by degrees to fulness wrought,

The strength of some diffusive Vain solace ! Memory standing near

thought Cast down her eyes, and in her throat | Hath time and space to work and spread. Her voice seem'd distant, and a tear Dropt on the letters as I wrote. Should banded unions persecute

Opinion, and induce a time I wrote I know not what. In truth,

When single thought is civil crime, How should I soothe you anyway,

| And individual freedom mute; Who miss the brother of your youth? Yet something I did wish to say: Tho' Power should make from land toland

The name of Britain trebly great For he too was a friend to me:

Tho' every channel of the State Both are my friends, and my true Should almost choke with gol len sand --

breast Bleedeth for both ; yet it may be | Yet wast me froin the harbor-mouth, That only silence suiteth best.

Wild wind! I seek a warmer sky,

And I will see before I die Words weaker than your grief would make | The palms and temples of the South. Grief more. 'T were better I should

cease Although myself could almost take The place of him that sleeps in peace.

Or old sat Freedom on the heights,

The thunders breaking at her feet : Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace :

Above her shook the starry lights :
Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,
While the stars burn, the moons increase,

She heard the torrents meet.
And the great ages onward roll.

There in her place she did rejoice,

Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind, Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or

But fragments of her mighty voice strange.

Came rolling on the wind. Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change. Then stept she down thro' town and


To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men reveal'd

T'he fulness of her face --You ask me, why, tho' ill at ease,

Within this region I subsist, Grave mother of majestic works,

Whose spirits falter in the mist, From her isle-altar gazing down, And languish for the purple seas ? Who, God-like, grasps the triple forks,

And King-like, wears the crown : It is the land that freemen till,

That sober-suited Freedom chose, Her open eyes desire the truth.
The land, where girt with friends or The wisdom of a thousand years

Is in them. May perpetual youth
A man may speak the thing he will ; Keep dry their light from tears ;

A land of settled government,

A land of just and old renown,
Where Freedom broadens slowly

From precedent to precedent:

| That her fair form may stand and shine,

Make bright our days and light our

Turning to scorn with lips divine

The falsehood of extremes !

We all are changed by still degrees,

| All but the basis of the soul. Lovethou thy land, with love far-brought

From out the storied Past, and used So let the change which comes be free Within the Present, but transfused To ingrooveitself with that, which flies, Thro’ future time by power of thought. And work, a joint of state, that plies

Its office, moved with sympathy. True love turn'd round on fixed poles,

Love, that endures not sordid ends, A saying, hard to shape in act;

For English natures, freemen, friends, For all the past of l'ime reveals Thy brothers and immortal souls.

A bridal dawn of thunder-peals,

Wherever Thought bath wedded Fact. But pamper not a hasty time,

Nor feed with crude imaginings Ev'n now we hear with inward strife

The herd, wild hearts and feeble wings, A motion toiling in the gloom That every sophister can lime.

The Spirit of the years to come

Yearning to mix himself with Life.
Deliver not the tasks of might

To weakness, neither hide the ray A slow-develop'd strength awaits
From those, not blind, who wait for Completion in a painful school ;

Phantoms of other forms of rule,
Tho' sitting girt with doubtful light. New Majesties of mighty States --
Make knowledge circle with the winds; The warders of the growing hour,

But let her herald, Reverence, fly But vague in vapor, hard to mark ; Before her to whatever sky

And round them sea and air are dark Bear seed of men and growth of minds. With great contrivances of Power.


Watch what main - currents draw the Of many changes, aptly join'd, years :

Is bodied forth the second whole. Cut Prejudice against the grain : Regard gradation, lest the soul

But gentle words are always gain : | Of Discord race the rising wind ; Regard the weakness of thy peers :

A wind to puff your idol-fires, Nor toil for title, place, or touch

And heap their ashes on the head ; Of pension, neither count on praise : To shame the boast so often made,

It grows to guerdon after-days : That we are wiser than our sires. Nor deal in watch-words overmuch :

O yet, if Nature's evil star Not clinging to some ancient saw ; Drive men in manhood, as in youth,

Not master'd by some modern term ; | To follow flying steps of Truth

Not swift nor slow to change, but firm : | Across the brazen bridge of war -And in its season bring the law;

If New and Old, disastrous feud, That from Discussion's lip may fall Must ever shock, like armed foes, With Life, that, working strongly, And this be true, till Time shall close, binds

That Principles are rain'd in blood; Set in all lights by many minds, To close the interests of all.

Not yet the wise of heart would cease

To hold his hope thro'shame and guilt, For Nature also, cold and warm,

But with his hand against the hilt, And moist and dry, devising long, Would pace the troubled land, like Peace ;

Thro' many agents making strong, Matures the individual form.

Not less, tho' dogs of Faction bay,

Would serve his kind in deed and word, Meet is it changes should control

Certain, if knowledge bring the sword, Our being, lest we rust in ease. | That knowledge takes the sword away

Would love the gleams of good that broke But ah! the more the white goose laid

From either side, nor veil his eyes: It clack'd and cackled louder.

And if some dreadful need should rise | Would strike, and firmly, and one stroke: It clutter'd here, it chuckled there;

It stirr'd the old wife's mettle : To-morrow yet would reap to-day,

She shifted in her elbow-chair,
As we bear blossoms of the dead;

And hurl'd the pan and kettle.
Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed
Raw Haste, half-sister to Dolay.

“A quinsy choke thy cursed note !"

Then wax'd her anger stronger.
“Go, take the goose, and wring herthroat,

I will not bear it longer."

Then yelp'd the cur, and yawlid the cat; I KNEW an old wife lean and poor,

Ran Gafler, stumbled Gammer. Her rags scarce held together; The goose flew this way and flew that, There strode a stranger to the door, And fill'd the house with clamor. And it was windy weather.

As head and heels upon the floor He held a goose upon his arm,

They flounder'd all together, He utter'd rhyme and reason,

There strode a stranger to the door, “Here, take thegoose, and keep you warm, And it was windy weather : It is a stormy season.'

He took the goose upon his arm, She caught the white goose by the leg,

He utter'd words of scorning; A goose -- 't was no great matter.

“So keep you cold, or keep you warm, The goose let fall a golden egg

It is a stormy morning. With cackle and with clatter.

The wild wind rang from park and plain, She dropt the goose, and caught the pell, | Till all the tables danced again,

And round the attics rumbled,
And ran to tell her neighbors ;
And bless'd herself, and cursed herself,

And half the chimneys tumbled.
And rested from her labors.

The glass blew in, the fire blew out,

The blast was hard anıl harder. And feeding high, and living soft, Her cap blew off, her gown blew up, Grew plump and able-bodied ;

And a whirlwind cleard the larder : Until the grave church warden doff'd, The parson smirk'd and nodded. And while on all sides breaking loose

Her household Hed the danger, So sitting, served by man and maid, Quoth she, “The Devil take the goose,

She felt her heart grow prouder : | And God forget the stranger !'




He thought that nothing new was said,

or else Ar Francis Allen's on the Christmas. Something so said 't was nothing, that eve, -

a truth The game of forfeits done -- the girls all Looks freshest in the fashion of the day : kiss'd

God knows: he hasa mint of reasons: ask. Beneath the sacred bush and pastaway - It pleased me well enough.” “Nay, may,” The parson Holmes, the poet Everard) said Hall, Hall,

“Why take thestyle of those heroic times? The host, and I sat round the wassail. For nature brings not back the Mastodon, bowl,

Nor we those times; and why should any Then half-way ebb’d : and there we held man a talk,

Remodel models ? these twelve books of How all the old honor had from Christ mine mas gone,

Were faint Homeric echoes, nothingOr gone, or dwindled down to some odd worth, games

Mere chaff'and draff, much better burnt.” In some odd nooks like this; till I, tired out “But I," With cutting eights that day upon the Said Francis, “pick'd the eleventh from pond,

this hearth, Where, three times slipping from the And have it : keep a thing, its use will outer edge,

come. I bump'd the ice into three several stars, I hoard it as a sugar-plum for Holmes." Fell in a doze ; and half-awake I heard He laugh’d, and I, though sleepy, like a The parson taking wide and wider sweeps, horse Now harping on the church-commission. That hears the corn-bin open, prick'd my ers,

ears; Now hawking at Geology and schism; For I remember'd Everard's college fame Until I woke, and found him settled down When we were Freshmen : then at my Upon the general decay of faith Right thro' the world, “at home was He brought it; and the poet little urged, little left,

But with some prelude of disparagement, And none abroad : there was no anchor, Read, mouthing out his hollow oesandaes, none,

Deep-chested music, and to this result. To hold by.” Francis, laughing, clapt

his hand On Everard's shoulder, with “I hold by MORTE D'ARTHUR.

him." “And I," quoth Everard, “by the was. So all day long the noise of battle rollid sail-bowl."

Among the mountains by the winter sea ; “Why yes," I said, “we knew your Until King Arthur's table, man by man, gift that way

Had fall'n in Lyonness about their Lord, At college : but another which you had, King Arthur: then, because his wound I mean of verse (for so we held it then,) was deep, What came of that?“You know," The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, said Frank, “he burnt

Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights, His epic, his King Arthur, some twelve And bore him to a chapel nigh the held, books"

A broken chancel with a broken cross, And then to me demanding why? “0, That stood on a dark strait of barren land. sir,

1 On one side lay the Ocean, and on ono


Lay a great water, and the moon was full. By zig-zag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedi-Came on the shining levels of the lake. vere :

There drew he forth the brand Excali“ The sequel of to-day unsolders all

bur, The goodliest fellowshipof famous knights Ando'er him, drawingit, the winter moon, Whereof this world holds record. Such Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, a sleep

ran forth They sleep -- the men I loved. I think And sparkled keen with frost against the that we

hilt : Shall nevermore, at any future time, For all the haft twinkled with diamond Delight our souls with talk of knightly sparks, deeds,

Myriails of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work Walking about the gardens and the halls of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long Of Camelot, as in the days that were. That both his eyes were dazzled, as he I perish by this people which I made,

stood, Tho' Merlin sware that I should come This way and that dividing theswift mind, again

In act to throw : but at the last it seem'd To rule once more - but let what will Better to leave Excalibur conceal’al be, be,

| There in the many-knotted waterflags, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That whistled still and dry about the That without help I cannot last till morn. marge. Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, So strode he back slow to the wounded Which was my pride : for thou remem King berest how

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedi. In those old days, one summer noon, an

vere : arm

“ Hast thou perform'd my mission which Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, I gave? Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonder- What is it thou hast seen? or what hast

heard ?” Holding the sword, — and how I row'd Andanswer made the bold Sir Bedivere: across

“I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And took it, and have worn it, like a And the wild water lapping on the crag." king:

To whom replied King Arthur, faint And, wheresoever I am sung or told

and pale: In aftertime, this also shall be known : "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy But now delay not : take Excalibur,

name, And fling him far into the middle mere : Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd Watch what thou seëst, and lightly bring Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: me word."

For surer sign had follow'd, either hand, To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere : Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. "It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee | This is a shameful thing for men to lie. thus,

| Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again Aillese, alope, and smitten thro'the helm. As thou art lief and dear, and do the A little thing inay harm a wounded man. thing Yet I thy hest will all perform at full, I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word.” word.”

Then went Sir Bedivere the second time So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he Across the ridge, and paced beside the stept

mere, And in the moon athwart the place of Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in tombs,

thought; Where lay the mighty bones of ancient But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, men,

How curiously and strangely chased, he Old knights, and over them the sea-wind smote sang

His palms together, and he cried aloud. Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, “And if indeed I cast the brand away, stepping down

Surely a precious thing, one worthy note,

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