The weapon's hostile point.-His lifted arm Aurelius, though with deep dismay and dread And anguish shook, yet his superior soul Collecting, and resuming all himself,

1

Seiz'd sudden: then perusing with strict eye,
And beating heart, Amyntor's blooming form;
Nor from his air or feature gathering aught
To wake remembrance, thus at length bespoke.
"O dire attempt! Whoe'er thou art, yet stay
Thy hand self-violent; nor thus to guilt,

If guilt is thine, accumulating add

A crime that Nature shrinks from, and to which
Heaven has indulg'd no mercy. Sovereign Judge!
Shall man first violate the law divine,
That plac'd him here dependent on thy nod,
Resign'd, unmurmuring, to await his hour
Of fair dismission hence; shall man do this,
Then dare thy presence, rush into thy sight,
Red with the sin, and recent from the stain,
Of unrepented blood? Call home thy sense;
Know what thou art, and own his hand most just,
Rewarding or afflicting-But say on.

My soul, yet trembling at thy frantic deed,
Recalls thy words, recalls their dire import:
They urge me on; they bid me ask no more—
What would I ask? My Theodora's fate,
Ah me! is known too plain. Have I then sinn'd,
Good Heaven! beyond all grace-But shall I blame
His rage of grief, and in myself admit

Its wild excess? Heaven gave her to my wish;
That gift Heaven has resum'd: righteous in both,
For both his providence be ever blest!”

By shame repress'd, with rising wonder fill'd,
Amyntor, slow recovering into thought,
Submissive on his knee, the good man's hand
Grasp'd close, and bore with ardour to his lips.
His eye, where fear, confusion, reverence spoke,
Through swelling tears, what language cannot tell,
Now rose to meet, now shunn'd the hermit's glance,
Shot awful at him: till, the various swell
Of passion ebbing, thus he faultering spoke:
"What hast thou done? why sav'd a wretch
unknown?

Whom knowing ev'n thy goodness must abhor.
Mistaken man! the honour of thy name,

Thy love, truth, duty, all must be my foes.
I am Aurelius! turn that look aside,

That brow of terrour, while this wretch can say,
Abhorrent say, he is-Forgive me, Heaven!
Forgive me, Virtue! if I would renounce
Whom Nature bids me reverence--by her bond,
Rolando's son: by your more sacred ties,
As to his crimes, an alien to his blood;
For crimes like his "

"Rolando's son? Just Heaven! Ha! here? and in my power? A war of thoughts, All terrible arising, shakes my frame

With doubtful conflict. By one stroke to reach
The father's heart, though seas are spread between,
Were great revenge!-Away: revenge? on whom?
Alas! on my own soul; by rage betray'd
Ev'n to the crime my reason most condemns
In him who ruin'd me." Deep-mov'd he spoke;
And his own poniard o'er the prostrate youth
Suspended held. But, as the welcome blow,
With arms display'd, Amyntor seem'd to court,
Behold, in sudden confluence gathering round
The natives stood; whom kindness hither drew,
The man unknown, with each relieving aid

To succour and to serve. Before them came Montano, venerable sage, whose head

The hand of Time with twenty winters' snow

Had shower'd; and to whose intellectual eye Futurity, behind her cloudy veil,

Stands in fair light disclos'd. Him, after pause,
Aurelius drew apart, and in his care

Amyntor plac'd; to lodge him and secure;
To save him from himself, as one, with grief
Tempestuous, and with rage, distemper'd deep.
This done, nor waiting for reply, alone

He sought the vale, and his calm cottage gain'd.

CANTO III.

WHERE Kilda's southern hills their summit lift With triple fork to Heaven, the mounted Sun Full, from the midmost, shot in dazzling stream His noon-tide ray. And now, in lowing train, Were seen slow-pacing westward o'er the vale The milky mothers, foot pursuing foot, And nodding as they move; their oozy meal, The bitter healthful herbage of the shore, Around its rocks to graze 4: for, strange to tell! The hour of ebb, though ever varying found, As yon pale planet wheels from day to day Her course inconstant, their sure instinct feels, Intelligent of times; by Heaven's own hand, To all its creatures equal in its care, Unerring mov'd. These signs observ'd, that guide To labour and repose a simple race, These native signs to due repast at noon, Frugal and plain, had warn'd the temperate isle: All but Aurelius. He, unhappy man, By Nature's voice solicited in vain, Nor hour observ'd, nor due repast partook. The child no more! the mother's fate untold! Both in black prospect rising to his eye-Twas anguish there; 'twas here distracting doubt! | Yet, after long and painful conflict borne, Where Nature, Reason, oft the doubtful scale Inclin'd alternate, summoning each aid That Virtue lends, and o'er each thought infirm Superior rising, in the might of him,

Who strength from weakness, as from darkness light,
Omnipotent can draw; again resign'd,

Again he sacrific'd, to Heaven's high will,
Each soothing weakness of a parent's breast;
The sigh soft memory prompts; the tender tear,
That, streaming o'er an object lov'd and lost,
With mournful tragic tortures and delights,
Relieves us, while its sweet oppression loads,
And, by admitting, blunts the sting of woe.

As Reason thus the mental storm seren'd,
And through the darkness shot her sun-bright ray
That strengthens while it cheers; behold from far
Amyntor slow approaching! on his front,

4 The cows often feed on the alga marina: and they can distinguish exactly the tide of ebb from the tide of flood; though, at the same time, they are not within view of the shore. When the tide has ebbed about two hours, then they steer their course directly to the nearest shore, in their usual order, one after another. I had occasion to make this observation thirteen times in one week. Martin's Western Isles of Scotland, p. 156.

O'er each sunk feature sorrow had diffus'd
Attraction, sweetly sad. His noble port,
Majestic in distress, Aurelius mark'd;
And, unresisting, felt his bosom flow
With social softness. Straight, before the door
Of his moss-silver'd cell they sat them down
In counterview: and thus the youth began.

"With patient ear, with calm attention, mark
Amyntor's story: then, as Justice sees,
On either hand, her equal balance weigh,
Absolve him, or condemn-But oh, may I,
A father's name, when truth forbids to praise,
Unblam'd pronounce? that name to every son
By Heaven made sacred; and by Nature's hand,
With Honour, Duty, Love, her triple pale,
Fenc'd strongly round, to bar the rude approach
Of each irreverent thought.-These eyes, alas!
The curs'd effects of sanguinary zeal
Too near beheld: its madness how extreme;
How blind its fury, by the prompting priest,
Each tyrant's ready instrument of ill,
Train'd on to holy mischief. Scene abhorr'd!
Fell Cruelty let loose in Mercy's name:
Intolerance, while o'er the free-born mind
Her heaviest chains were cast, her iron scourge
Severest hung, yet daring to appeal

That Power whose law is meekness; and, for deeds That outrage Heaven, belying Heaven's command. "Flexile of will, misjudging, though sincere, Rolando caught the spread infection, plung'd Implicit into guilt, and headlong urg'd His course unjust to violence and rage. Unmanly rage! when nor the charm divine Of beauty, nor the matron's sacred age, Secure from wrongs, could innocence secure, Found reverence or distinction. Yet, sustain'd By conscious worth within, the matchless pair Their threatening fate, imprisonment and scorn And death denounc'd, unshrinking, unsubdued To murmur or complaint, superior bore, With patient hope, with fortitude resign'd, Nor built on pride, nor counting vain applause; But calmly constant, without effort great, What reason dictates, and what Heaven approves. "But how proceed, Aurelius? in what sounds Of gracious cadence, of assuasive power, My further story clothe? O could I steal From Harmony her softest-warbled strain Of melting air! or Zephyre's vernal voice! Or Philomela's song, when love dissolves To liquid blandishment his evening lay, All nature smiling round! then might I speak; Then might Amyntor, unoffending, tell, How unperceiv'd and secret through his breast, As morning rises o'er the midnight-shade, What first was ow'd humanity to both, Assisting piety and tender thought, Grew swift and silent into love for one: My sole offence-if love can then offend, When virtue lights and reverence guards its flame. "O Theodora! who thy world of charms, That soul of sweetness, that soft glow of youth, Warm on thy cheek, and beaming from thine eye, Unmov'd could see? that dignity of ease, That grace of air, by happy nature thine! For all in thee was native; from within Spontaneous flowing, as some equal stream From its unfailing source! and then too seen In milder lights; by sorrow's shading hand Touch'd into power more exquisitely soft,

By tears adorn'd, intender'd by distress.
O sweetness without name! when Love looks on
With Pity's melting eye, that to the soul
Endears, ennobles her, whom Fate afflicts,
Or Fortune leaves unhappy! Passion then
Refines to virtue: then a purer train
Of heaven-inspir'd emotions, undebas'd
By self-regard, or thought of due return,
The breast expanding, all its powers exalt
To emulate what reason best conceives
Of love celestial; whose prevenient aid
Forbids approaching ill; or gracious draws,
When the lone heart with anguish inly bleeds,
From pain its sting, its bitterness from woe!

"By this plain courtship of the honest heart
To pity mov'd, at length my pleaded vows
The gentle maid with unreluctant ear
Would oft admit; would oft endearing crown
With smiles of kind assent, with looks that spoke,
In blushing softness, her chaste bosom touch'd
To mutual love. O fortune's fairest hour!
O'seen, but not enjoy'd, just hail'd and lost
It's flattering brightness! Theodora's form,
Event unfear'd! had caught Rolando's eye:
And Love, if wild Desire, of Fancy boru,
By furious passions nurs'd, that sacred name
Profanes not, Love his stubborn breast dissolv'd
To transient goodness. But my thought shrinks back,
Reluctant to proceed: and filial awe,
With pious hand, would o'er a parent's crime
The veil of silence and oblivious night
Permitted throw. His impious suit repell'd,
Aw'd from her eye, and from her lip severe
Dash'd with indignant scorn; each harbour'd thought
Of soft emotion or of social sense,
Love, pity, kindness, alien to a soul
That Bigot-rage embosoms, fled at once:
And all the savage reassum'd his breast.
"Tis just,' he cry'd: who thus invites disdain,
Deserves repulse; he who, by slave-like arts,
Would meanly steal what force may nobler take,
And, greatly daring, dignify the deed.
When next we meet, our mutual blush to spare,
Thine from dissembling, from base flattery mine,
Shall be my care.' This threat, by brutal scorn
Keen'd and embitter'd, terrible to both,
To one prov'd fatal. Silent-wasting grief,
The mortal worm that on Emilia's frame
Had prey'd unseen, now deep through all her powers
Its poison spread, and kill'd their vital growth.
Sickening, she sunk beneath this double weight
Of shame and horrour.-Dare I yet proceed?
Aurelius, O most injur'd of mankind!
Shall yet my tale, exasperating, add
To woe, new anguish? and to grief, despair-
She is no more-"

"O Providence severe !" Aurelius smote his breast, and groaning cry'd; But curb'd a second groan, repell'd the voice Of froward grief: and to the will supreme, In justice awful, lowly bending his, Nor sigh, nor murmur, nor repining plaint, By all the war of nature though assail'd, Escap'd his lips. "What! shall we, from Heaven's With life receiving happiness, our share [grace Of ill refuse? And are afflictions aught But mercies in disguise? th' alternate cup, Medicinal though bitter, and prepar'd By Love's own hand for salutary ends. But were they ills indeed; can fond complaint

Arrest the wing of Time? Can grief command
This noon-day Sun to roll his flaming orb
Back to yon eastern coast, and bring again
The hours of yesterday? or from the womb
Of that unsounded deep the bury'd corse
To light and life restore? Blest pair, farewell!
Yet, yet a few short days of erring grief,
Of human fondness sighing in the breast,
And sorrow is no more. Now, gentle youth,
And let me call thee son, (for O that name
Thy faith, thy friendship, thy true portion borne
Of pains for me, too sadly have deserv'd)
On with thy tale. 'Tis mine, when Heaven afflicts,
To hearken and adore." The patient man
Thus spoke: Amyntor thus his story clos'd.
"As, dumb with anguish, round the bed of death
Weeping we knelt, to mine she faintly rais'd
Her closing eyes; then fixing, in cold gaze,
On Theodora's face- O save my child!'
She said; and, shrinking from her pillow, slept
Without a groan, a pang. In hallow'd earth
I saw her shrouded; bade eternal peace
Her shade receive, and, with the truest tears
Affection ever wept, her dust bedew'd.

"What then remain'd for honour or for love?
What, but that scene of violence to fly,
With guilt profan'd, and terrible with death,
Rolando's fatal roof. Late at the hour,
When shade and silence o'er this nether orb
With drowsiest influence reign, the waining Moon
Ascending mournful in the midnight sphere;
On that drear spot, within whose cavern'd womb
Emilia sleeps, and by the turf that veils
Her honour'd clay, alone and kneeling there
I found my Theodora! Thrill'd with awe,
With sacred terrour, which the time, the place,
Pour'd on us, sadly-solemn, I too bent
My trembling knee, and lock'd in her's my hand
Across her parent's grave. By this dread scene!
By night's pale regent! By yon glorious train
Of ever-moving fires that round her burn!
By Death's dark empire! by the sheeted dust
That once was man, now mouldering here below!
But chief by her's, at whose nocturnal tomb,
Reverent we kneel! and by her nobler part,
Th' unbody'd spirit, hovering near, perhaps,
As witness to our vows! nor time, nor chance,
Nor aught but Death's inevitable hand,
Shall e'er divide our loves.'-I led her thence:
To where, safe-station'd in a secret bay,
Rough of descent, and brown with pendent pines
That murmur'd to the gale, our bark was moor'd.
We sail'd-But, O my father; can I speak
What yet remains? yon ocean black with storm!
Its useless sails rent from the groaning pine!
The speechless crew aghast! and that lost fair!
Still, still I see her! feel her heart pant thick!
And hear her voice, in ardent vows to Heaven
For me alone preferr'd; as on my arm,
Expiring, sinking with her fears she hung!
I kiss'd her pale cold cheek! with tears adjur'd,
And won at last, with sums of proffer'd gold,
The boldest mariners, this precious charge
Instant to save; and, in the skiff secur'd,
Their oars across the foamy flood to ply
With unremitting arm. I then prepar'd
To follow her-That moment, from the deck,
A sea swell'd o'er, and plung'd me in the gulf.
Nor me alone: its broad and billowing sweep
Must have involv'd her too. Mysterious Heaven!
VOL. XIV.

My fatal love on her devoted head
Drew down-it must be so! the judgment due
To me and mine: or was Amyntor sav'd
For its whole quiver of remaining wrath?
For storms more fierce? for pains of sharper sting?
And years of death to come?"-Nor further voice,
Nor flowing tear his high-wrought grief supply'd:
With arms outspread, with eyes in hopeless gaze
To Heaven uplifted, motionless and mute
He stood, the mournful semblance of Despair.

The lamp of day, though from mid-noon declin'd,
Still flaming with full ardour, shot on Earth
Oppressive brightness round; till in soft steam
From Ocean's bosom his light vapour's drawn,
With grateful intervention o'er the sky
Their veil diffusive spread; the scene abroad
Soft-shadowing, vale aud plain, and dazzling hill.
Aurelius, with his guest, the western cliff
Ascending slow, beneath its marble roof,
From whence in double stream a lucid source
Roll'd sounding forth, and, where with dewy wing
Fresh breezes play'd, sought refuge and repose,
Till cooler hours arise. The subject isle
Her village-capital, where health and peace
Are tutelary gods; her small domain
Of arable and pasture, vein'd with streams
That branching bear refreshful moisture on
To field and mead; her straw-roof'd temple rude,
Where Piety, not Pride, adoring kneels,
Lay full in view. From scene to scene around
Aurelius gaz'd; and, sighing, thus began.

"Not we alone; alas! in every clime, The human race are sons of sorrow born. Heirs of transmitted labour and disease, Of pain and grief, from sire to son deriv'd, All have their mournful portion; all must bear Th' impos'd condition of their mortal state, Vicissitude of suffering. Cast thine eye Where yonder vale, Amyntor, sloping spreads Full to the noon-tide beam its primrose-lap, From hence due east." Amyntor look'd, and saw, Not without wonder at a sight so strange, Where thrice three females, earnest each and arm'd With rural instruments, the soil prepar'd For future harvest. These the trenchant spade, To turn the mould and break th' adhesive clods, Employ'd assiduous. Those, with equal pace, And arm alternate, strew'd its fresh lap white With fruitful Ceres: while, in train behind, Three more th' encumbent harrow heavy on O'er-labour'd drew, and clos'd the toilsome task. "Behold!" Aurelius thus his speech renew'd, "From that soft sex, too delicately fram'd For toils like these, the task of rougher man, What yet necessity demands severe. Twelve suns have purpled these encircling hills With orient beams, as many nights along Their dewy summits drawn th' alternate veil Of darkness, since, in unpropitious hour, The husbands of those widow'd mates, who now For both must labour, lanch'd, in quest of food, Their island-skiff adventurous on the deep. Them, while the sweeping net secure they plung'd The finny race to snare, whose foodful shoals Each creek and bay innumerable crowd, As annual on from shore to shore they move In watry caravan; them, thus intent, Dark from the south a gust of furious wing, Up-springing, drove to sea, and left in tears This little world of brothers and of friends!

D

But when, at evening hour, disjointed planks,
Borne on the surging-tide, and broken oars,
To sight, with fatal certainty, reveal'd
The wreck before surmis'd; one general groan,
To Heaven ascending, spoke the general breast
With sharpest anguish pierc'd. Their ceaseless
plaint,
[shore,
Through these hoarse rocks, on this resounding
At morn was heard: at midnight too were seen,
Disconsolate on each chill mountain's height,
The mourners spread, exploring land and sea
With eager gaze-till from yon lesser isle,
Yon round of moss-clad hills, Borera nam'd-
Full north, behold! above the soaring lark,
Its dizzy cliffs aspire, hung round and white
With curling mists-at last from yon hoar hills,
Inflaming the brown air with sudden blaze,
And ruddy undulation, thrice three fires,
Like meteors waving in a moonless sky,
Our eyes, yet unbelieving, saw distinct,
Successive kindled, and from night to night
Renew'd continuous. Joy, with wild excess,
Took her gay turn to reign; and Nature now
From rapture wept: yet ever and anon
By sad conjecture damp'd, and anxious thought
How from yon rocky prison to release
Whom the deep sea iminures (their only boat
Destroy'd) and whom th' inevitable siege
Of hunger must assault. But hope sustains
The human heart: and now their faithful wives,
With love-taught skill and vigour not their own,
On yonder field th' autumnal year prepare1."

Amyntor, who the tale distressful heard
With sympathizing sorrow, on himself,
On his severer fate, now pondering deep,
Wrapt by sad thought the hill unheeding left,
And reach'd, with swerving step, the distant strand.
Above, around, in cloudy circles wheel'd,
Or sailing level on the polar gale
That cool with evening rose, a thousand wings,
The summer-nations of these pregnant cliffs,
Play'd sportive round, and to the Sun outspread
Their various plumage; or in wild notes hail'd
His parent-beam, that animates and cheers
All living kinds. He, glorious from amidst
A pomp of golden clouds, th' Atlantic flood
Beheld oblique, and o'er its azure breast
Wav'd one unbounded blush: a scene to strike
Both ear and eye with wonder and delight!
But, lost to outward sense, Amyntor pass'd
Regardless on, through other walks convey'd
Of baleful prospect, which pale Fancy rais'd
Incessant to herself, and sabled o'er

With darkest night, meet region for despair!
Till northward, where the rock its sea-wash'd base
Projects athwart and shuts the bounded scene,
Rounding its point, he rais'd his eyes and saw,
At distance saw, descending on the shore,
Forth from their anchor'd boat, of men unknown
A double band, who by their gestures strange
There fix'd with wondering: for at once they knelt
With hands upheld; at once, to Heaven, as seem'd,
One general hymn pour'd forth of vocal praise.
Then, slowly rising, forward mov'd their steps:
Slow as they mov'd, behold! amid the train,
On either side supported, onward came

The author who relates this story adds, that the produce of grain that season was the most plentiful they had seen for many years before.

Pale and of piteous look, a pensive maid;
As one by wasting sickness sore assail'd,
Or plung'd in grief profound-"Oh, all ye powers!
Amyntor starting, cry'd, and shot his soul
In rapid glance before him on her face.
"Illusion! no-it cannot be. My blood
Runs chill: my feet are rooted here-and see!
To mock my hopes, it wears her gracious form.
The spirits who this ocean waste and wild
Still hover round, or walk these isles unseen,
Presenting oft in pictur'd vision strange
The dead or absent, have on yon shape adorn'd,
So like my love, of unsubstantial air,
Embody'd featur'd it with all her charms-
And lo! behold! its eyes are fix'd on mine
With gazet ransported-Ha! sh efaints, she falls!"
He ran, he flew his clasping arms receiv'd
Her sinking weight-" O earth, and air, and sea!
'Tis she! 'tis Theodora! Power divine,
Whose goodness knows no bounds, thy hand is here,
Omnipotent in mercy!" As he spoke,
Adown his cheek, through shivering joy and doubt,
The tear fast-falling stream'd. "My love! my life!
Soul of my wishes! sav'd beyond all faith!
Return to life and me. O fly, my friends,
Fly, and from yon translucent fountain bring
The living stream. Thou dearer to my soul
Than all the sumless wealth this sea entombs,
My Theodora, yet awake: 'tis I,

'Tis poor Amyntor calls thee!" At that name,
That potent name, her spirit from the verge
Of death recall'd, she trembling rais'd her eyes;
Trembling, his neck with eager grasp entwin'd,
And murmur'd out his name: then sunk again;
Then swoon'd upon his bosom, through excess
Of bliss unhop'd, too mighty for her frame.
The rose-bud thus, that to the beam serene
Of morning glad unfolds her tender charms,
Shrinks and expires beneath the noon-day blaze.

Moments of dread suspense-but soon to cease!
For now, while on her face these men unknown
The stream, with cool aspersion, busy cast,
His eyes beheld, with wonder and amaze,
Beheld in them-his friends! th' adventurous few,
Who bore her to the skift! whose daring skill
Had sav'd her from the deep! As, o'er her cheek,
Rekindling life, like morn, its light diffus'd
In dawning purple; from their lips he learn'd,
How to yon isle, yon round of moss-clad hills,
Borea nam'd, before the tempest borne,
These islanders, thrice three, then prison'd there,
(So Heaven ordain'd) with utmost peril run,
With toil invincible, from shelve and rock
Their boat preserv'd, and to this happy coast
Its prow directed safe-He heard no more:
The rest already known, his every sense,
His full collected soul, on her alone
Was fix'd, was hung enraptur'd, while these sounds,
This voice, as of an angel, pierc'd his ear.

"Amyntor! O my life's recover'd hope! My soul's despair and rapture!-can this be? Am I on earth? and do these arms indeed Thy real form enfold? Thou dreadful deep! Ye shores unknown! ye wild impending hills! Dare I yet trust my sense?-O yes, 'tis he! 'Tis he himself! My eyes, my bounding heart,

Vide Martin's Description of the Western Isles of Scotland, p. 286.

Confess their living lord! What shall I say?
How vent the boundless transport that expands
My labouring thought? th' unutterable bliss,
Joy, wonder, gratitude, that pain to death
The breast they charm?-Amyntor, O support
This swimming brain: I would not now be torn
Again from life and thee; nor cause thy heart
A second pang." At this, dilated high
The swell of joy, most fatal where its force
Is felt most exquisite, a timely vent
Now found, and broke in tender dews away
Of heart-relieving tears. As o'er its charge,
With sheltering wing, solicitously good,
The guardian-genius hovers, so the youth,
On her lov'd face, assiduous and alarm'd,
In silent fondness dwelt: while all his soul,
With trembling tenderness of hope and fear
Pleasingly pain'd, was all employ'd for her;
The rouz'd emotions warring in her breast,
Attempering, to compose, and gradual fit
For further joy her soft impressive frame.
"O happy! though as yet thou know'st not half
The bliss that waits thee! but, thou gentle mind,
Whose sigh is pity, and whose smile is love,
For all who joy or sorrow, arm thy breast
With that best temperance, which from fond excess,
When rapture lifts to dangerous height its powers,
Reflective guards. Know then-and let calm thought
On wonder wait-safe refug'd in this isle,
Thy godlike father lives! and lo-but curb,
Repress the transport that o'erheaves thy heart;
'Tis he-look yonder-he, whose reverend steps
The mountain's side descend!-Abrupt from his
Her hand she drew; and, as on wings upborne,
Shot o'er the space between. He saw, he knew,
Astonish'd knew, before him, on her knee,
His Theodora! To his arms he rais'd
The lost lov'd fair, and in his bosom press'd.
My father!"-"O my child!" at once they cry'd:
Nor more. The rest ecstatic silence spoke,
And Nature from her inmost seat of sense
Beyond all utterance mov'd. On this blest scene,
Where emulous in either bosom strove
Adoring gratitude, earth, ocean, air,
Around with softening aspect seem'd to smile;
And Heaven, approving, look'd delighted down.
Nor theirs alone this blissful hour: the joy,
With instant flow, from shore to shore along
Diffusive ran; and all th' exulting isle
About the new-arriv'd was pour'd abroad,
To hope long lost, by miracle regain'd!
In each plain bosom Love and Nature wept :
While each a sire, a husband, or a friend,
Embracing held and kiss'd.

Now, while the song,
The choral hymn, in wildly-warbled notes,
What Nature dictates when the full heart prompts,
Best harmony, they, grateful souls, effus'd
Aloud to Heaven; Montano, reverend seer,
(Whose eye prophetic far through Time's abyss
Could shoot its beam, and there the births of Fate,
Yet immature and in their causes hid,
Illumin'd see) a space abstracted stood:
His frame with shivery horrour stirr'd, his eyes
From outward vision held, and all the man
Entranc'd in wonder at th' unfolding scene,
On fluid air, as in a mirror seen,
And glowing radiant, to his mental sight.

"They fly!" he cry'd, "they melt in air away, The clouds that long fair Albion's Heaven o'ercast!

With tempest delug'd, or with flame devour'd
Her drooping plains: while, dawning rosy round,
A purer morning lights up all her skies!
He comes, behold! the great deliver comes!
Immortal William, borne triumphant on,
From yonder orient, o'er propitious seas,
White with the sails of his unnumber'd fleet,
A floating forest, stretch'd from shore to shore!
See! with spread wings Britannia's genius flies
Before his prow; commands the speeding gales
To waft him on; and, o'er the hero's head,
Inwreath'd with olive bears the laurel-crown,
Blest emblem, peace with liberty restor❜d!
And hark! from either strand, which nations hide,
To welcome-in true freedom's day renew'd
What thunders of acclaim! Aurelius, man
By Heaven belov'd, thou too that sacred sun
Shalt live to hail; shalt warm thee in his shine!
I see thee on the flowery lap diffus'd
Of thy lov'd vale, amid a smiling race
From this blest pair to spring: whom equal faith,
And equal fondness, in soft league shall hold
From youth to reverend age; the calmer hours
Of thy last day to sweeten and adorn;
Through life thy comfort, and in death thy crown."

TO THE

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH'.

YOUR grace has given leave, that these few poems should appear in the world under the patronage of your name. But this leave would have been refused, I know, had you expected to find your own praises, however just, in any part of the present address. I do not say it, my lord, in the style of compliment. Genuine modesty, the companion and the grace of true merit, may be surely distinguished from the affectation of it: as surely as the native glowing of a fine complexion from that artificial colouring, which is used, in vain, to supply what Nature had denied, or has resumed.

Yet, permit me just to hint, my lord, while I restrain my pen from all enlargement, that if the fairest public character must be raised upon private virtue, as surely it must, your grace has laid already the securest foundation of the former, in the latter. The eyes of mankind are therefore turned upon you: and, from what you are known to have done, in one way, they reasonably look for whatever can be expected from a great and good man, in the other.

The author of these lighter amusements hopes soon to present your grace with something more solid, more deserving your attention, in the life of the first duke of Marlborough'.

You will then see, that superior talents for war have been, though they rarely are, accompanied with equal abilities for negotiation: and that the same extensive capacity, which could guide all the tumultuous scenes of the camp, knew how to direct, with equal skill, the calmer but more perplexing operations of the cabinet.

This dedication was prefixed by the author to a small collection of his poems, published in 1672. N.

A work which has not yet appeared. N.