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Perverse, self-willed to own and to dis

own, Mere slave of them who never for thee

prayed, Still last to come where thou art wanted

most !

Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw. I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses, seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

1

THE WORLD,

PELION AND OSSA. The world is too much with us; late and soon,

PELION and Ossa flourish side by side, Getting and spending, we lay waste our

Together in immortal books enrolled; powers :

His ancient dower Olympus hath rot Little we see in Nature that is ours;

sold; We have given our hearts away, a sor.

And that inspiring hill, which “ did didid boon!

vide This sea that bares her bosom to the

Into two ample horns his forehead wide," moon;

Shines with poetic radiance as of old; The winds that will be howling at all

While not an English mountain we behours

hold And are up-gathered now like sleeping By the celestial muses glorified. flowers;

Yet round our sea-girt shore they rise For this, for everything, we are out of

in crowds: tune;

What was the great Parnassus' self to It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather

thee, be

Mount Skiddaw? In his natural soverA pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

eignty So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Our British hill is fairer far; he shrouds Have glimpses that would make me less His double-fronted head in higher forlorn,

clouds, Have sight of Proteus coming from the And pours forth streams more sweet sea,

than Castalay. Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed

horn.

THE BROOK.
WESTMINSTER BRIDGE.
Sept. 3, 1802.

BROOK! whose society the poet seeks EARTH has not anything to show more Intent his wasted spirits to renew; fair :

And whom the curious painter doth Dull would he be of soul who could pass

pursue by

Through rocky passes, among flowery A sight so touching in its majesty :

creeks, This city now doth like a garment wear And tracks thee dancing down thy The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

waterbreaks; Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and If I some type of thee did wish to view temples lie

Thee, and not thee thyself, I would Open unto the fields and to the sky,

not do All bright and glittering in the smokeless Like Grecian artists, give thee human air.

cheeks,

[graphic]

“Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks.”

Page 286.

THE NEW YORK PUBLICLI

*T, LENOX AND TIA FOUNDATION

Channels for tears; no Naiad shouldst And temper with the sternness of the thou be,

brain Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints, Thoughts motherly and meek as womannor hairs;

hood. It seems the eternal soul is clothed in Wisdom doth live with children round thee

her knees, With purer robes than those of flesh Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the and blood,

talk And hath bestowed on thee a better Man holds with week-day man in the good

hourly walk Unwearied joy, and life without its cares. Of the mind's business: these are the

degrees By which true sway doth mount; this is

the stalk

True power doth grow on; and her EVENING

rights are these. It is a beauteous evening, calm and

free; The holy time is quiet as a nun

ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE Breathless with adoration; the broad sun

VENETIAN REPUBLIC. Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven is on the sea : ONCE did she hold the gorgeous East Listen! the mighty being is awake,

in fee; And doth with his eternal motion make And was the safeguard of the West: the A sound like thunder everlastingly.

worth Dear child! dear girl! that walkest Or Venice did not fall below her birthwith me here,

Venice, the eldest child of Liberty! If thou appear’st untouched by solemn She was a maiden city, bright and free; thought,

No guile seduced, no force could violate; Thy nature therefore is not less divine :

And, when she took unto herself a mate, Thou liest “in Abraham's bosom ” all

She must espouse the everlasting sea.

And what if she had seen those glories And worshipp'st at the temple's inner fade, shrine,

Those titles vanish, and that strength God being with thee when we know it decay; not.

Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid
When her long life hath reached its

final day:

Men are we, and must grieve when BUONAPARTE.

even the shade I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain

Of that which once was great is passed And an unthinking grief! for, who as

away. pires To genuine greatness but from just de

TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE. sires, And knowledge such as he could never Toussaint, the most unhappy man of gain?

men! Tis not in battles that from youth we Whether the all-cheering sun be free to train

shed The governor who must be wise and His beams around thee, or thou rest good,

thy hea ]

the year;

some

Pillowed in

dark dungeon's ON THE SUBJUGATION OF noisome den

SWITZERLAND. O miserable chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; Two voices are there – one is of the sea, do thou

One of the mountains — each a mighty Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful

voice : brow:

In both from age to age, thou didst Though fallen thyself, never to rise

rejoice, again,

They were thy chosen music, Liberty! Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left There came a tyrant, and with holy glee behind

Thou fough'st against him; but hast Powers that will work for thee: air,

vainly striven; earth, and skies;

Thou from thy Alpine holds at length There's not a breathing of the common

art driven, wind

Where not a torrent murmurs heard by That will forget thee; thou hast great

thee. allies;

Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been Thy friends are exultations, agonies,

bereft : And love, and man's unconquerable | Then cleave, O cleave to that which stil mind.

is left; For, high-souled maid, what sorrow

would it be That mountain floods should thunder as

before,

And ocean bellow from his rocky shore, FRANCE AND ENGLAND.

And neither awful voice be heard by September, 1802.

thee! INLAND, within a hollow vale, I stood; And saw, while sea was calm and air

MILTON. was clear,

1802. The coast of France -- the coast of France how near!

MILTON! thou shouldst be living a Drawn almost into frightful neighbor

this hour: hood.

England hath need of thee: she is a len I shrunk, for verily the barrier flood Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and Was like a lake, or river bright and fair,

pen, A span of waters; yet what power is Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and there!

bower, What mightiness for evil and for Have forfeited their ancient English good!

dower Even so doth God protect us if we be Of inward happiness. We are selfis. Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters roll,

Oh! raise us up, return to us again; Strength to the brave, and power, and And give us manners, virtue, freedom. deity,

power. Yet in themselves are nothing! One Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt decree

apart : Spake laws to them, and said that by Thou hadst a voice whose sound was the soul

like the sea; Only the nations shall be great and Pure as the naked heavens, majestic free.

free;

men:

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