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Or lonely house, long held the witches' home,
Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds !
What tell'st thou now about?
'Tis of the rushing of a host in rout, With groans of trampled men, with smarting
woundsAt once they groan with pain, and shudder with the
cold ! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence !
And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
And tempered with delight,
'Tis of a little child
Upon a lonesome wild, Not far from home, but she hath lost her way : And now moans low in bitter grief and fear, And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother
'Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep :
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
With light heart may she rise,
Gay fancy, cheerful eyes,
O simple spirit, guided from above,
ODE TO THE DEPARTING YEAR."
'Ioù, ioù, ū kará.
Το μέλλον ήξει. Και συ μ' εν τάχει παρών
Æschyl. Agam. 1225.
PIRIT who sweepest the wild harp of Time !
It is most hard, with an untroubled ear
Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear! Yet, mine eye fixed on Heaven's un
| This Ode was composed on the 24th, 25th, and 26th days of December, 1796: and was first published on the last day of
Long had I listened, free from mortal fear,
With inward stillness, and a bowed mind;
When lo! its folds far waving on the wind, I saw the train of the departing Year!
Starting from my silent sadness
Then with no unholy madness Ere yet the entered cloud foreclosed my sight, I raised the impetuous song, and solemnized his flight.
Hither, from the recent tomb,
From the prison's direr gloom,
From distemper's midnight anguish ; And thence, where poverty doth waste and languish !
Or where, his two bright torches blending,
Love illumines manhood's maze;
Hither, in perplexed dance,
Raises its fateful strings from sleep,
And each doméstic hearth,
And with a loud and yet a louder voice,
Weep and rejoice!
And now advance in saintly jubilee
Justice and Truth! They too have heard thy spell,
They too obey thy name, divinest Liberty !
I marked Ambition in his war-array !
I heard the mailed Monarch's troublous cry“ Ah! wherefore does the Northern Conqueress stay! Groans not her chariot on its onward way?”.
Fly, mailed Monarch, fly!
No more on murder's lurid face
Manes of the unnumbered slain !
Ye that gasped on Warsaw's plain !
Fell in conquest's glutted hour,
Sudden blasts of triumph swelling,
Rush around her narrow dwelling ! The exterminating fiend is fled
(Foul her life, and dark her doom) Mighty armies of the dead
Dance, like death-fires, round her tomb !
Departing Year! 'twas on no earthly shore
My soul beheld thy vision! Where alone,
Voiceless and stern, before the cloudy throne, Aye Memory sits: thy robe inscribed with gore,
With many an unimaginable groan
Thou storied'st thy sad hours! Silence ensued,
Deep silence o'er the ethereal multitude,
From the choired gods advancing,
Throughout the blissful throng,
Hushed were harp and song:
(The mystic Words of Heaven)
Permissive signal make :
Love and uncreated Light,
Seize thy terrors, Arm of might !
Masked hate and envying scorn!
By years of havoc yet unborn!
But chief by Afric's wrongs,
Strange, horrible, and foul !
Avenger, rise !