The quick-eared spy in hut and hall !
From Polar sea and tropic fen
The dying-groans of exiled men!
The bolted cell, the galley's chains,
The scaffold smoking with its stains!
Order-the hush of brooding slaves!
Peace in the dungeon-vaults and graves!

O, Fisher! of the world-wide net,
With meshes in all waters set,
Whose fabled keys of heaven and hell
Bolt hard the patriot's prison-cell,
And open wide the banquet-hall,
Where kings and priests hold carnival!
Weak vassal tricked in royal guise,
Boy Kaiser with thy lip of lies;
Base gambler for Napoleon's crown,
Barnacle on his dead renown!
Thou, Bourbon Neapolitan,

Crowned scandal, loathed of God and man;

And thou, fell Spider of the North!

Stretching thy giant feelers forth,

Within whose web the freedom dies
Of nations eaten up like flies!

Speak, Prince and Kaiser, Priest and Czar!
If this be Peace, pray what is War?

White Angel of the Lord! unmeet
That soil accursed for thy pure feet.
Never in Slavery's desert flows
The fountain of thy charmed repose;
No tyrant's hand thy chaplet weaves
Of lilies and of olive-leaves;

Not with the wicked shalt thou dwell,
Thus saith the Eternal Oracle ;
Thy home is with the pure and free!
Sterr. herald of thy better day,
Before thee, to prepare thy way,
The Baptist Shade of Liberty,

Gray, scarred and hairy-robed, must press
With bleeding feet the wilderness!
O! that its voice might pierce the ear
Of princes, trembling while they hear
A cry as of the Hebrew seer:
Repent! God's kingdom draweth near!

WORDSWORTH.

WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF HIS MEMOIRS.

DEAR friends, who read the world aright, And in its common forms discern

A beauty and a harmony

The many never learn!

Kindred in soul of him who found
In simple flower and leaf and stone
The impulse of the sweetest lays
Our Saxon tongue has known,—

Accept this record of a life

As sweet and pure, as calm and good, As a long day of blandest June

In

green field and in wood.

How welcome to our ears, long pained
By strife of sect and party noise,
The brook-like murmur of his song
Of nature's simple joys!

The violet by its mossy stone,

The primrose by the river's brim, And chance-sown daffodil, have found Immortal life through him.

The sunrise on his breezy lake,
The rosy tints his sunset brought,
World-seen, are gladdening all the vales
And mountain-peaks of thought.

Art builds on sand; the works of pride
And human passion change and fall;
But that which shares the life of God
With Him surviveth all.

ΤΟ

LINES WRITTEN AFTER A SUMMER DAY'S EXCURSION.

FAIR Nature's priestesses! to whom,
In hieroglyph of bud and bloom,
Her mysteries are told;

Who, wise in lore of wood and mead,
The seasons' pictured scrolls can read,
In lessons manifold!

Thanks for the courtesy, and gay
Good humor, which on Washing Day
Our ill-timed visit bore;
Thanks for your graceful oars, which broke
The morning dreams of Artichoke,
Along his wooded shore!

Varied as varying Nature's ways,
Sprites of the river, woodland fays,

Or mountain-nymphs, ye seem;
Free-limbed Dianas on the green,
Loch Katrine's Ellen, or Undine,
Upon your favorite stream.

The forms of which the poets told,
The fair benignities of old,

Were doubtless such as you;
What more than Artichoke the rill
Of Helicon? Than Pipe-stave hill
Arcadia's mountain-view?

No sweeter bowers the bee delayed,
In wild Hymettus' scented shade,
Than those you dwell among;
Snow-flowered azalias, intertwined
With roses, over banks inclined

With trembling hare-bells hung!

A charmed life unknown to death,
Immortal freshness Nature hath;
Her fabled fount and glen

Are now and here: Dodona's shrine
Still murmurs in the wind-swept pine,―
All is that e'er hath been.

The Beauty which old Greece or Rome
Sung, painted, wrought, lies close at home;
We need but eye and ear

In all our daily walks to trace
The outlines of incarnate grace,
The hymns of gods to hear!

IN PEACE.

A TRACK of moonlight on a quiet lake,
Whose small waves on a silver-sanded shore
Whisper of peace, and with the low winds make
Such harmonies as keep the woods awake,
And listening all night long for their sweet sake;
A green-waved slope of meadow, hovered o'er
By angel-troops of lilies, swaying light

On viewless stems, with folded wings of white;

A slumberous stretch of mountain-land, far seen
Where the low westering day, with gold and green,
Purple and amber, softly blended, fills

The wooded vales, and melts among the hills;
A vine-fringed river, winding to its rest
On the calm bosom of a stormless sea,
Bearing alike upon its placid breast,

With earthly flowers and heavenly stars impressed,
The hues of time and of eternity:

Such are the pictures which the thought of thee, U friend, awakeneth,-charming the keen pain Of thy departure, and our sense of loss Requiting with the fulness of thy gain.

Lo! on the quiet grave thy life-borne cross,
Dropped only at its side, methinks doth shine,
Of thy beatitude the radiant sign!

No sob of grief, no wild lament, be there,
To break the Sabbath of the holy air;

But, in their stead, the silent-breathing prayer
Of hearts still waiting for a rest like thine.
( spirit redeemed! Forgive us, if henceforth,
With sweet and pure similitudes of earth,

We keep thy pleasant memory freshly green, Of love's inheritance a priceless part,

Which Fancy's self, in reverent awe, is seen To paint, forgetful of the tricks of art,

With pencil dipped alone in colors of the heart.

BENEDICITE.

GOD's love and peace be with thee, where

Soe'er this soft autumnal air

Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair !

Whether through city casements comes
Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms,
Or, out among the woodland blooms,