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EDWIN'S FANCIES AT EVENING.
With instantaneous gleam, illumed the
vault of Night. WHEN the long-sounding curfew from afar
Anon in view a portal's blazon'd arch Loaded with loud lament the lonely Arose; the trumpet bids the valves gale,
unfold; Young Edwin, lighted by the evening And forth a host of little warriors march, star,
Grasping the diamond lance, and targe Lingering and listening wander'd
of gold. down the vale.
Their look was gentle, their demeanor There would he dream of graves, and corpses pale;
And green their helms, and green their And ghosts, that to the charnel-dungeon
silk attire. throng,
And hereandthere, rightvenerablyold, And drag a length of clanking chain,
The long-robed minstrels wake the warband wail,
ling wire, Till silenced by the owl's terrific song,
And some with mellow breath the marOr blast that shrieks by fits the shud
tial pipe inspire. dering aisles along.
With merriment, and song, and timbrels Or when the setting moon, in crimson
A troop of dames from myrtle bowers Hung o'er the dark and melancholy advance : deep,
The little warriors doff the targe and Te haunted stream, remote from man
spear, he hied,
And loud enlivening strains provoke Where Fays of yore their revels wont the dance. to keep;
They meet, they dart away, they wheel And there let Fancy roam at large, till askance sleep
To right, to left, they thrid the flying maze; A vision brought to his entranced sight. Now bound aloft with vigorous spring, And first, a wildly-murmuring wind
then glance 'gan creep
Rapid along; with many-color'd rays Shrill to his ringing ear; then tapers Of tapers, gems, and gold, the echoing bright,
1752-1770. [Born at Bristol, 1752. Son of a sexton and parish schoolmaster, and died by suicide before he had completed his eighteenth year, London, 1770. In this brief interval he gave proof of powers unsurpassed in one so young, and executed a number of forgeries almost without parallel for ingenuity and variety. His avowed compositions are very inferior to the forgeries, a fact that Scott explains by supposing that in the forgeries all his powers must have been taxed to the utmost to support the deception.]
Are past the powers of human skill; Thy mercy in thy justice praise.
But what the Eternal acts is right,
O teach me in the trying hour,
But, ah! my breast is human still;
But yet, with fortitude resign'd, Encroaching sought a boundless sway, I'll thank the infliction of the blow, Omniscience could the danger see, Forbid the sigh, compose my mind And mercy look the cause away. Nor let the gush of misery flow. Then, why, my soul, dost thou complain? | The gloomy mantle of the night, Why drooping seek the dark recess? Which on my sinking spirit steals, Shake off the melancholy chain,
Will vanish at the morning light, For God created all to bless.
Which God, my East, my Sun, reveals.
1743–1825. [ANNA LÆTITIA AIKIN, was born at Kibworth Harcourt, in Leicestershire, 1743. Published Poems, 1773; Miscellaneous Pieces in Prose by 7. and A. L. Aikin, 1773. Married Rev. Rochemont Barbauld, 1774. Published Poetical Epistle to Mr. Wilberforce, 1791; Hymns in Prose for Little Children, 1811. Died at Stoke Newington, March
And feed the flowering osier's early
Now let me sit beneath the whitening
LIFE. thorn And mark thy spreading tints steal o'er
“ Animula, vagula, blandula." the dale,
LIFE! I know not what thou art, And watch with patient eye
But know that thou and I must part; Thy fair unfolding charms.
And when, or how, or where we met,
But this I know, when thou art fled O nymph, approach! while yet the
Where'er they lay these limbs, this head, temperate sun
No clod so valueless shall be With bashful forehead through the cool As all that then remains of me. moist air
O whither, whither dost thou fly, Throws his young maiden beams, Where bend unseen thy trackless course, And with chaste kisses woos
And in this strange divorce,
Ah, tell where I must seek this comThe earth's fair bosom; while the
pound I? streaming veil Of lucid clouds with wind and frequent To the vast ocean of empyreal flame shade
From whence thy essence came Protects thy modest blooms
Dost thou thy Aight pursue, when From his severer blaze.
freed From matter's base encumbering
weed? Sweet is thy reign, but short:— the red
Or dost thou, hid from sight, dog-star
Wait, like some spell-bound knight, Shall scorch thy tresses, and the mower's Through blank oblivious years the apscythe
pointed hour Thy greens, thy flowerets all
To break thy trance and reassume thy Remorseless shall destroy.
power? Yet canst thou without thought or feel
ing be? Reluctant shall I bid thee then fare- O say what art thou when no more thou’rt well:
thee? For O not all that Autumn's lap contains,
Life! we've been long together, Nor Summer's ruddiest fruits,
Through pleasant and through cloudy Can aught for thee atone,
weather; 'Tis hard to part when friends are
dear; Fair Spring! whose simplest promise Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; more delights
Then steal away, give little warning, Than all their largest wealth, and through Choose thine own time; the heart
Say not Good night, but in some brighter Each joy and new-born hope
clime With softest influence breathes.
Bid me Good morning.
SIR WILLIAM JONES.
(An Indian judge and learned oriental writer. Born in London in 1746, and died at Calcutta, 1794. In 1764 entered University College, Oxford, where he made great acquirements in oriental languages and literature; in 1783 appointed a judge in the Supreme Court of Calcutta, where he attained to great distinction, and gained the admiration of the most learned men in India; in 1799 his works were collected and published in six volumes, and his life by Lord Teignmouth in one volume in 1804.]
No more shall Freedom smile? Shall Britons languish, and be men no
Since all must life resign,
'Tis folly to decline, And steal inglorious to the silent grave.
A PERSIAN SONG OF HAFIZ.
SWEET maid, if thou would'st charm my
AN ODE, IN IMITATION OF
Thick wall or moated gate;
Not bays and broad-arm’d ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies
Not starr'd and spangled courts, Where low-brow'd baseness wafts per
fume to pride.
No: men, high-minded men,
In forest, brake, or den,
Men who their duties know,
Prevent the long-aim'd blow,
the chain :
These constitute a state,
O’er thrones and globes elate
Smit by her sacred frown,
And e’en the all-dazzling Crown
Such was this heaven-loved isle, Than Lesbos fairer, and the Cretan
Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow,
0! when these fair perfidious maids
In vain with love our bosoms glow :