fta»l^i+ Cornell University Library PR5101.M34D7 The dream, and other poems. 3 1924 013 528 694 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013528694 THE DEE AM ; AND OTHER POEMS. ARCHIBALD B. MOTJNSEY. *'S^a vol fosse si nota La divina incredibile belleaea Di cji'io raglono ; — " PBTBAECH. LONDON: WHITTAKER AND CO., BOOKSELLERS, AVE MARIA LANE. ROCHDALE: J. AND J. MILLS, BOOKSELLERS, VOBKSHIB.B-STRE£r. 1851. i< A.i8ie£tf J. AND 3. MILLS, PRINTERS, YORKSHIRE-STREET, ROCHDALE. A seedliag flew from a wild-wood flower In the early mom — in the dawning hour — Far, far away and no rest it finds. Where wiU ye waft it, ye mighty winds ? Over the forest, and hUl and plain, Sinking and pausing and fluttering again — Shall it take root in some valley green. Amongst things that are " bom to hlush unseen ? " Shall it be cast on some tall cliff bare, To flourish a little moment there ; Then in the scorching mid-day tried To wither and shrink in it's feeble pride ? Shall it be borne to some desert land And buried for ever 'neath burning sand. Or happily find some Oasis bright Where the fountains gush forth in the joyous Ught. IV. Far, far away o'er the miglity to^wn WTiere the stream of life is Imrrying down ; Shall it be flung in some whirlpool strong And g^phed in a moment — or borne along ? Over the spreading city !— say Shall it be left on the bleak high-way. Trampled by careless passers there, And pilfered at length by the birds of adr ? Say, must it fall in the river wide, Eapid, and smooth, — unrecked-of to glide On to the boundless — shall it be As the drifting weed on that desolate sea ? Will it Ue low in some deep, deep deU And the earth and the autunm leaves cover it well, Long, long after to sprout and grow Strongly from vigorous roots below ? Fluttering, resting,— away, away ! Through the wide world must it seek and stray ? Leaving it's birth-place so far behind — Where wilt thou bear it to — mighty Wind ? CONTENTS. PAGE. The Dream 9 Sonnet 48 Version of the 1st Psalm 49 „ 61st „ 51 „ 68th „ 52 Laudate Dominum 55 The Sea 59 Verses on the 6th Chap. St. Matthew, 19. 20 61 ChUdhood and Youth 63 Fragments of a Poem on Music 73 Lines written on a blank leaf of Pomfret's Choice 99 An Imitation 101 Stanzas, written on a blank leaf of Childe Harold 102 A Fragment in Imitation of Spencer's Fairy Queen 108 Letter to Friend on revisiting Richmond 124 The Escape 145 The Spirit of Fu-e 150 The Old Man's Return 156 The Grave of Little Nell ' 159 Wandering Thoughts 161 The Noiseless Motion of a Lip 166 The Lieder ohne Worte 167 THE DEEAM. "Plato had the most sublime ideas of the Divinity and His attributes. He taught that the human soul was a portion of the Divinity, and that this alliance might be improved into actual intercourse with the Supreme Being, by abstracting the soul from all the corruptions of the body." '■ Know ye not that ye are the temples of God ; and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you.'' 1 Cor. iii. 16. THE BE£A It was a dream. A moment from tte Life Of that whicli knows not Time. A little hour Tlie Thing of sorrow sleeps — and the freed Thought Bounds over nightless years ! Perchance were all The Hnks of these our Visions unforgot, It were a wondrous History. 'Tis strange We know not all we are ; and but in dreams — J These Poretastes of Eternity — ^the Past, The Present, and the Future, one quick Now — Catch glimpses of the life which is apart ! It was a Dream. 10 A solitary Touth Of a far-gazing eye, and thoughtful brow, And pale and sickly cheek ; but with the flush Of Impulse hovering there — ^before me stood. I knew the Substance of the Thing of Days — Felt the cold presence of that Other Self. A flower-stalk in his hand of triple stem ; On one the rose had withered, and had shed It's petals, but the calyx still was green, And one of Nature's tear-drops glistened there. The second bore a full-blown flower ; the third An opening bud. He of the stem brow spake. " The tearful gaze of that which is no more ! The wearing, trembling, cankering watchfulness Of that which is ! The yet unopened eye ; The slumbering Future ; swelling, heaving now With it's soft fragrant breathings, yet asleep ! 11 The Mother's — ^bending o'er her cradled babe Pressing 1;he lips half opening with a smile ; TeeHng^the glowing incense of its love In sympathies that sleep not, cannot' die ; Such is the rapture, such the hope, which round The couch of the pure Future lives and glows. Ah ! how the mother starts when the first cry- Speaks of the common lot. What foul-mouthed worm May gnaw unseen the bud ! Who shall destroy , The lurking foe and scatter not the sweets ? How rankly grow our hopes and fears ! The sun Which ripens with a glance these eager buds Quickens destroying legions, Oh ! how blent Our sorrows and our joys — the same fierce shower ■ Which hath so burthened the full beauty, gave This happy radiance to the poor remains Of a forgotten pride — and the same shower With softening influence on, the callous earth Shall lend a welcome and a timely aid To these yet bursting glories." 12 WWlst he spake With eye intent upon the verdant cup And on the crystal treasure 1 beheld Sudden the bright orb grow beneath his glance, And swell into a miniature lake ; And then a ripple for an instant shook It's stiUness ; as some passing wind had swept It's yielding surface — 'twas perchance the breath Of him who gazed thereon — ^but then methought Its clear depths darkened ; there might be a cloud Crossing the sunny heavens reflected there. An instant only — and a shadowy form Rose slowly from the wave, and grew and grew Larger and more distinct ; at last it took The form of a fair child of pallid cheek And features such as His — yet how unlike — Oh ! how unlike ; that gently beaming eye So full of hope and joy and trustfulness, To the stern thoughtftdness — ^the mystery There. How softly feU the Ught hair on the brow ! 13 It was a lovely vision ; a fair sight — And yet the chilly feelmg of the Past "Was on me then. There came a stiU, small voice. " Why art thou gloomy now, Son of the after-days ? Wherefore the darkling brow ? Wherefore the longing gaze ? There was a fairy lake, Deep in the wild-wood ;. Pairy hills circled it. Guarding its childhood ! Bright was the loving sky ; There ia the lake it lay ! Deep in its Purity, Through the long, sunny day ! Bright were the op'ning flowers ; Bright on it's banks were they ! 14 Loading with sweets the hours ! Knowing no sad decay. Twofold the life they led By the lake's sparkling blue — Ev'ry fair, conscious head Watching its deep'ning hue. Bright were the winged birds ; Oh how they warmly prest To the Lake's bosom then Daily their feathered breast ! Oh ! how they poured their song ; Cheerily, cheerily ; Oh ! how the wildwood rung ! Merrily, merrily ! Why art thou gloomy now ? Son of the after days ! 15 Wherefore the darkling brow ? Wherefore the longing gaze ? How the Lake loved them all Deep ia its heart to lie ; Pondly it kept them all There with the sunny sky ! Human foot pressed not nigh But it was happy then — Wherefore that heavy sigh ? Son of the crowds of men ! There were sweet voices there ; Where the lake shining lay ; Whispering voices there, All through the glowing day ; All through the starry night Softly they spake of love ; 16 Ev'iy young flow'ret bright ; Ev'ry fair star above ! Oh ! Soul of Purity ! Oh ! loving, happy Soul ! Oh ! how the moments fly ! Oh ! how the days do roll ! Why art thou gloomy now, Son of the after-days ? Wherefore the darHing brow ? Wherefore the longiag gaze ? " He of the dark brow then. " Canst thou no more ? Sing how the skies o'ercast ; and how the clouds Darkened the silver lake — and how the flowers Withered and fell — how the bright birds forsook — How the storm burst ! and how those sheltering hills Poured down their blackened torrents ; till the lake 17 Had lost it's purity — then how it swelled And raged, and grew, until it burst it's bonds, And bounded forth, a Biver in its might ! Tell how the Thing of Calm and Purity, Eolled then, and swallowed aU things ia it's path ; And how it grasped a thousand streams, and bore A thousand torrents in. it's headlong course ; And loved the storms, and only sought to gtow And ever struggled onwards to the MaiS ! Ha ! ha ! the Lightaiing's path ; Beauteous in Mystery ! Ha ! ha ! the Tempest's Wrath ! Great in it's Majesty ! Hark to the Thunder's roar ! Terrible, Glorious ! Hark ! to the torrent's pour Leaping Victorious ! See, see, the Storm Spirit Stamps in his furious glee ! See, how the Storm Spirit, 18 Tears ev'ry forest tree — Shakes ev'ry mighty rock Eends the stern mountain-top — Laughs at the giddy shock — When crumbled crags down drop Into the boiling Stream ; Ha, ha, he laughs again ; Heard ye the merry scream ? Heard ye the Hurricane ? — Sing of the furious joy ! Sing to me, sing to me. Where do the lightnings fly, Mashed from the Storm- Grod's eye ? Where do the Thunders roll, Voice of the Storm-God's Pride ? Where is the Whirlwind's goal Breathed from his nostril wide ? Who shall the Passions tame Of the fierce Element ? Who shall the Eiver stem, 19 When for tlie Ocean bent ? There it shall mingled be, Mighty and Vast and Free ! I j Grrand in its Purity ! i Changeless eternally ! tP ^ ^ * Siag, and sing thus to me ! ! " It might have been the Stomm-G-od in his Pride— The glowing eye — ^the nostril stretching wide In such exultant fury — the dark hair Streaming as though. the Whirlwind's wrath was there ! But the child-form had fled — ^the waters fair Sank to a drop of sullied brightness, ere The last imperious accents proudly died, — And yet methought the stiU, small voice replied, " There is a Magic Pount Deep in the human breast ! If it would heavenward mount, Holy tears feed it best! " 20 To see the proud Youth, as he listened, pluck The leaves from off the full-blown rose ! ah ! why- Should the Past rob us of 'the Present thus ? When for this fleeting moment we have paid So large a sum of years ! II. He held the naked G-erm — and gazed on it, Long, silently ; until a wondrous change Seemed passing o'er his features — there was still The same stem thought, the same unbending pride, The same deep fire in the unfathomed eye — But something calmer, holier in its blaze — Something so impulse-less — so one — so pure In it's intenser feeling— he had found The free, fair channel for that mighty Stream ! Was it a change of moments or of years ? Shadows of other forms and scenes did pass, But there the Youth stood with the mystic germ. And I around him and within him dwelt FeeUng nor Change nor Time. The links were changed Of Sympathy between us. This was all ! 22 A breath of "Wind ! It caught the scattered leaves, And whirled them round, and lifted them aloft — And then they took a substance and a shape — The Being- that the other had thrown off ! All of Earth's transient feelings, hopes, and joys Conflicting impulses, and passions strong ; Tet a fair gentle youth — he held a cup Of purest gold — and raising it, he spake, " Tour health, my brother, many a happy year And glad return of this good day be thine ! Now what a brow thou weareat, brother miae ! By heaven I scarcely know thee ; yet we were Close friends but lately — yea ! and merry friends. I do remember me a right good youth — " " Proceed — what of him?" " He was even such As I myself — a jocund, witty youth, "With a light heart — a heart like a balloon ! 23 That swelled, and soared — and truly, towards tlie moon; And then he used his brains for ballast sand, Flinging them earthward as he higher swept — ■ Alas ! he loves this ballast now o'er-much ; Oh ! they be heavy things ; these men of brains !" "Thou art a very tongue. — "What of this youth ? " " Patience, good sir. He was a thing all heart, Imagination — Music — Poetry — Kre — but it was a bright and joyous flame Flame, to the very eye ; with no black cloud Hanging upon the brow — as upon thine — He was all hope — aU love — all joyousness — " " Thou speak'st of things I do remember now. " " Remember ! aye, it is forgetfulness That doth beget this foul misanthropy. " " I would that grief begat oblivion. " 24 " Thou art most sad my brotlier— yet methinka That lowering brow, and eye of mystery And lip compressed (as though the slightest curl Might seat some smile, and not of happiness) Befit not this proud anniversary. Thou should' St be happy brother ! " " Wherefore pray ? Have I not ease and plenty ? you would say, A11 that my tongue e'er asked — it is so — ^yea, More than my heart e'er wished of temporal good ? Am I not young, and with a heart not yet Dead to earth's pleasures — and possessed of them ; But tell me can a being such as this With feehngs, passions like the central fires, A never-dying flame — can this be stirred To bHss, or anguish by such toys as these ? Or am I so entrammeUed, — prisoned by — So blended with this Thing — this Feebleness — That its poor hopes and joys must limit mine ? 25 I If this were so, my friend, if this be so, G-od, how I loathe, abhor, the thing I am ! " " Bethink thee what thou scorn' st ; there be red bowls. The very molten ore of wit and smiles, And recklessness ; and if the lees of care Lurk at the bottom, as some dullards swear ; It needs but keep the cup for ever fuU To drown them fairly. " " There be drunkards true, " " Bright eyes there are, fair cheeks and rosy Ups, And glowing breasts and tear-distiOing hearts. Whose tenderness might e'en perchance unfreeze Souls stem — " " Aye ! What have I to do with these ? " " And there is music which I know thou lev' at, Cannot its gladmess charm thee — " 26 " JSTot to Mirth. I love it when it's saddest, wildest strains Steep the rapt soul in melancholy bliss ! Thou when thy feet can sympathise withal Leaving the heart for Beauty's worship free. " " Hast no Ambition then, that which gives youth Its eager eye — quick step — and daring hand ; It's ready wit, keen thought, and heart of fire. That which makes poets, statesmen, heroes, kings — " " I do despise it most of little things. " " Ha ! Where have fled the aspirations then Of boyhood — the bright dreams, the noble thoughts Of but a year ago — ' ' " They have not fled No ! they are here enshrined, more pure, more high— But call them not ambitions — oh ! they were They are moat free from ev'ry thought of self — 27 What men call self at least — this changeful clay : The aspirations that would trample down Earth's ev'ry littleness — all that could clog Or stain the Godlike essence that I am, I teU thee still are here, and they have made This being and my loftier, — mightier self Strangers and very foes ! " " Dost make no friends ? ' " Tes ! when the sunshine on my solitude, Bursts with a sudden gleam — smiling me forth, I know the gentle bidding, and we stray Abroad together. "We have common Mends. " " I luiow — thou lov'st not man. " " Men love not me. And why ? I neither know to fawn and crouch. Nor haughtily to stoop — I never learnt 28 To prize so Mghly what the worid can add To G-od's most noble work. — I dare not scorn And I own no superior. This I know, There lives not one so mean but doth posses A portion of that Being unoreate, Grod breathed into his image. That hath not A soul immortal, in his Maker's sight. Of value greater than a thousand worlds ; For what to Him are momentary things ? And aU these shining planets must decay Their circUng course shall cease. The Spirit moves Upon eternity's unbroken ring The deathless essence of the Deity. What are the Worlds distinctions ? What the hne Which human pride with earthly tinsel draws 'Twixt things so great. That we should dare despise. " " Well ! be not chafed, but teU me — Thou art joyed, To pore long hours over the lettered page, Or vpith a glowing cheek and speaking eye 29 Trace out thy bummg thouglits : and ttou dost love To Hnger among Nature's sweet delights And mid her hiUs, her woods, her deep ravines, And treasures of her solitudes, to know The poetry of feeling unexpressed, The music of deep stOLiess — Thou dost list When in the early morn the soaring lark, And all the choral host to greet the day From quivering pinions shake the joyous lay, Or when at eve the silvery waterfall The murmuring streamlet, or the rustling leaves Stirred by the sighing wind, make melody ; Have these things then no gladness ? " " They have so, A deep and holy gladness for the soul — And it doth swell and tremble with it's joy. But thou would' st have me smile — smile! when this thing Of smiles and tears doth know itself forgot. No ! I have ceased to laugh or weep, the spirit 30 Is of another nature, and doth shed A subtler element. Thou hast well said : There is the cup of joy, and woman's love, And wealth and power and aU ambition asks — (Ambition ! such as his who casts him up Mementoes, Kbe the mole, which serve to track His poor bliad groveUings — what more did they Who reared the pyramids ?) thou hast weU. said ; These are the joys of Earth, and were there nought Of anguish and Repentance and Remorse, Suicide, madness ; I should answer stiU, That there he yearnings which these cannot fill! Stay — yet another word — it doth not rest With this world — nor its creatures to confer Or happiness, or grief, or such as I. This is the independence of the Soul. But one thing do I prize. Oh ! I would yield All perishable goods the heart desires, For the communion of a single hour, With one whose spirit Uke my own was framed. 31 That I might woo in silence, as we gazed On Nature's glories, and together breathed Heaven's atmosphere of Music, — that even thus (Apart from that which for a time we are) Our deathless beings, in their own bright sphere Might in the fellowship of feeling blend." " If this be so I wish thee all success In such a quest, and prythee clear thy brow ; And now farewell — for I do know thee not, And we are strangers henceforth — " " Leave me now ; Tet think, if I too harsh or stem do seem — There is sweet music in the rock and steel. " " Adieu ! " " Adieu ! A rattle pated thing — His tongue had graced methinks an old Church beH, 32 Not in some village spire, on holidays To wake to life and troll a merry peal, Then settle back into its musty gloom — But rather in some mighty town, amid The noise and bustle of the populace, To add its jingle to the general din Chiming the hours, — for so his nature seems, Iformed to make merry with the flight of Time. Yet I do love him for his gentle heart. So short a time — how old he made me feel ! He seems a joyous thing — if grief and joy Be not to all in equal balance weighed — I know mot — all do live in hope and fear — And hope is bliss, and fear is misery ; Pleasures do pall and leave a heavy heart — And G-rief doth water very goodly thoughts, Bringing forth it's own sweets — at least with me, "Who would not change my longings for the joys Of him, who is contented with a crown ! 33 Full many things adjust the scale of life — I question if there lives the man woiild claim Less pity than he gives. — It is a pain, A pain that clouds the brow, and makes the heart Oft-times to sink (for these are of the world), To have no wish, no object upon earth — To look around and see no single toy One cannot all disdain — ^feeling our power ! But oh ! the BUss untold ! the thrill of Hope, Noble, and proud, and daring — Hope like mine ! I do despise the man that is Content ! III. Some there are "Who have been bound less closely to the eairth ; Who by some accident of Nature knew The chain upon the Immaterial Less strong than other Men's ; and these hme felt Strange and delightftd feeUngs ; have beheld Things wonderful ; unseen by common eyes.; — Creeds marvellous, and Eeyelations new These to the world have given ; them hath the World Enthusiasts, Fanatics, Madmen called. Were they deluded ? we will grant them so — Gtrant it is Madness then to be deceived — The wisest through a glass but darkly see ; — 35 I. " To sever this slight thread — To set this Samson free — Bursting the tangled web '. How should it he a crime ? From this abyss of wonder to upraise / That which should look on nature as it is ! II. " First Principle of Life ! Oh ! all-pervading Essence ! oh ! TJnseen ! Unmeasured ! Unapproachable ! The Power, The Motion and the Consciousness ! The Soul Breathed on the new-created World, The Spirit of the Lord ! * III. " Then through all agent-matter crept the Pulse Of the Immortal ; the Electric Heat ; * " Thales supposed the Divinity to animate the Universe as the Soul does the body.'' 36 The sympatlietic Glow ! Unlike th' impenetrable Elements, — An ever-mingUng One ! Formed of no atoms incompressible — A PeeUng and a Thought ! IV. " It seized upon the TTniverse ! It fiUed the Sun, the Moon, the Stars ! It hurled the liquid light, — It entered ev'ry fountain ; !Prom ev'ry Hill and Mountain, It flung the Blessing wide. In ev'ry Seed and Plant and Hower, In ev'ry Tree it dwelt And forced from them their golden IVuit, And pushed their many changing sweets, In rich Profusion forth. In Earth and Air and in the Eire It was, And in the ever-blending "Waters found A fitting form. 37 And pure and undefiled at first It entered ev'ry breatMng thing, And had its throne in Man. " Then Knowledge was not. But a Living Faith in Groodness and in Beauty and in Love. The very Essence of that Life was Truth — It's whole Perceptions then A feeling and a joy : but the hewn stone "Which reason for her first great Babel craved — Such knowledge was not then. TI. " Oh, cursed hour ! When Falsehood first from the pure Spirit wrenched Her glorious charter Faith — ^then first the Soul It's freedom lost — became the Slave of Clay, Oh ! cursed, cursed hour ! And all things felt the Curse, and Earth poured forth Her tlungs of evil nature, things that were 38 Antipathies to Man — tliere Demons dwelt, And of their own foul being did instn Pride and Ambition and Bevenge into That which was once so pure. Oh cursed, ctirsed hour ! TII. -" To sever this slight thread. To set this Samson free, Bursting the tangled web — How should it be a crime ? " As rudely seized his hand the flower, A Spirit from the Eose-bud glided, In a perfome sweet ! There was neither Speech nor language Tet her voice was heard. For the Soul, it hath no senses. Neither hearing, sight, nor utterance. But a blending Of Pesceptions great and wond'rous As ThougM enters into Thongtit ! Thus she semed to sing : 1. Man of Sorrows ! Man of Sorrows ! Why, oh ! why this gloomy haste ? Thou dost look upon the Future, As thou lookest on the Past ! 2. Thou dost aU disdain the glowing, Joyous leaves, which for a term Biad the Spirit— thou would'st rend them Prom the Hving, hidden G«rm. — 3. Tracing that which lives as truly In the Present and the Past ; PiercLng thro' the veil bo transient ; Therefore is thy gloomy haste ! 4.0 4. Listen ! That which swells within me And doth struggle to be free, Daily swelling,- daily growing, Tin it wins it's liberty ; Flinging slowly off the trammels Which at first to yield were loth ; See'st thou not, it needed these things, Till it gained it's strength and growth ? When the petals are flung open Soon they withering faU away ; When the soul looks up to Heaven, ^ Undeterred — ^then sinks the clay ! " Thou art right ! " the Youth made answer, " Yes ! perchance to strike this creature, 41 Were to check,-^-to check for ever. That which — aye — I see — I see — For we -know not how thoughts enter ; Thoughts which feed this inner Life — And in other Woride we may not "With these wond'rous sympathies, Ever more absorb and blend ; And our Greatness must depend All upon our growth in this ! " Once again the Eose-bud answered ; " How the fragrant Spirit glides ; AjBii it dies not— but for ever, Over wo-'rlds ifs course it wings, With all' bright things — ^with aU sweelv thUag's, Mingling-i^-TWingling; joyously ! Ling'ririg 'morig- the Slimmer Trees', Eoving with th«r SunMher Inee^e^ 42 In it's arms borne lovingly, In it's mightier arms ; Dancing mtli the joyous Sun-beams Melting with the sound of sad-streams ; On the Ocean's migity breath Borne — with Oceans mighty spray Dares the gentle Spirit play. "Where the Mountains — " But the Youth Checked him with his glowing eye As it answered — "True— oh! true— "Wherefore were the mountains builded ? Wherefore all Earth has of Gl-randeur ? Voiceless Deserts — piled up Bocks — All the Majesty of Storms — Here the passionate Tornado ! There the Icebergs sullen crash ! — 43 "WTierefca^ all yon sHiniag Worlds ? It were madneaB to believe them Pramed but |pp our temp'ral wants ; Heat or light but to supply-rr- Tea ! they have a nobler office — Theirs it is to rear the Soul ! — I would press into my Spirit, All that's good and beautiful. Seizing all the Elements, From the Fire^-the Air — ^the Water, Grlowing Life-^and freedom win, And aU depth and purity ! From the Mountains and the deserts Ajid the Bocks and Floods and Stonns- What a feast of power and glory, Hast thou h^e, O boundless life ! — From the Ocean Spirit vastness, From the sunligbt Splendour seize ; — See from Nature's Plfinteousness, Riches numberless are mine : 44 — Then to bathe my Soul in Staa-light, G-aining lustre,^ how Divine ! — G-od, what blessings dost thou give, — Oh ! 'tis Joy— 'tis Joy to live !!! " He ceased, and sudden on the stilly air Arose the music of Angelio wings And silver Pinions flashed a living Hght, And sprinkled o'er the earth — ^a voicse there was, But not of words — ^ten thousand perfumes rich In swift succession gUding, first o'erpoweied ' With languor irresistible, the sense ; Wot long this lasted — new, delicious life Came bounding through my being— wond'roua powers Quick starting to existence— senses new — And pleasures beyond aught that man hath known Or heart of man conceived— 'twas as the life Which bursts upon th' Immortal, flinging off The languor of the grave — Each sev'ral sense Was as an ear to catch a glorious voice. 45 A language of the Deity— the eye TVom rarest forma and bright hues numherless Drank in the utterance of His love — the Stmns That from the hallowed haxps of Seraphs still Sprang forth Immortal (Music dies not there, But, fresh from the creative lyre of God, Starts into blest existences and fiUs The unbounded courts of Heaven with spirits of joy — ) Not strains like these could speak more clearly now The thoughts eternal of His endless love, Than to each sense, its own peculiar voice Poured the soft raptures of the words of Life ; And thus to listen is the bliss of Heaven. Then was it that to my awakened soul The fragrant breathings of the Angel Hosts Came with a lofty meaning ! Thus they simg : (And the full pulse of Heaven's^ high harmonies "With an intenser feeling throbbed the while :) 46 CHOBTTS OF ANGELB. Glory, GJojyj to the Lamb, He who for the world was glaia He who shed upon the earth Sinless L^e, again ! * Drink ye, drint ye for to faith, Flow the waters bright mi pure ; And from ali things, streams the Lqve, Ever to endtire ! Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! Glory, Glory to the Lamb ! Glory to the ascended King, Who the Holy Spirit poured. And the Woiro'tious, Mystic Commune, Hath again bustobed !!! " "Wisdom, Honour, Glory, Power, To His boimdless Sovereignty : * Rom. viil, 22. 47 Joy unspeakable and gladness, "With his ransomed be !! HaLLelujah ! Hallelujah ! Gt-lory, Q-lory to the Lamb ! " Then ev'ry creature in the Heavens, * And in the earth, and in the depths. The mighty waters and the floods, And all that therein is, replied : " Blessing, Honour, GHory, Power, To th' enthroned Majesty ! Blessing, Honour, Glory, Power, To the Lamb for ever be ! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Glory, Glory to the Lamb ! " * Rev. V, 13. Lo ! the soft Tale. Here Nature spreads her lap, (Wliich witli her fair hands rich embroidery teems), Per Pancy's UgM repose, and gentle dreams ; And, while new joys the TJrchiti's soul enwrap. Her Hght Voice w'a'rbles through his sleep, atd warm Her breath is on his ei^ek ! Oli ! sunny Sea Bright-islanded^ wtereon he launches free His airy skiff ! Of ever-Taried forrii, From the glad wave, what coutotless visions rise. In unsubstantial glory ! Richly rolled ! Tet when at. length the gentle chains unfold, Mark how he starts ! — With what a glad surprise — No disappointed eye he flings aroiind— More lovely is the scene, than all his fairy ground ! CBeatm vir qui rum abUt, Sfc.J Blessed the man who never trod The paths by sinners worn, Nor left the coixnsels of his God, To join the laugh of acorn. Who makes the mandates of the Lord' His practice day and night. And in obedience to his word Alone can find delight. He shall be fruitful as the tree Placed by the water side, That from a never-faoling source Is nourished and supplied. 50 His leaf no withering blast shall know, But flourish bright and green, TiU. with a richer tint it glow In bfe's autumnal scene. But the ungodly they shall be As chaff before the wind, Swept from the face of earth — nor leave A trace of good behind. They shall not stand the glance of him Who readeth every heart. Nor shall they on the last great day Have with the just their part. Then Thou, Almighty, wiLt receive The righteous into joy. And all who spumed thy truth on earth, Shalt utterly destroy. (Exaudi Deua.J Griye ear unto my cry, O G-od ! And hearken to my prayer ; Assist me when my spirit sinks Beneath the weight of care. O guide me safe from every foe Up to the rock on high, The rock of refuge and defence. In dangers ever nigh. W^ithin thy tabernacle Lord My dwelling-place shall be ; Beneath the shadow of thy wings My sole security. 52 For thou hast granted my deeires, And freely hast thou given, To all who fear thy sacred name, An Heritage ia Heaven. im iiviii. fMxwrgat Deus.J Arise O God ! come forth in might, As an Avenger rise^ Put the ungodly all to flight ! Scatter thine enemies ! As smoke that for a moment bears Defiance to the sky, Fades when it insolently dares To rear its form on high : 53 Let the ungodly thus expire Before thy presence Lord : -And like as wax before the fire, Consume them vdth thy word. But let the just ■with one accord TJplift their gladsome cries, And loud rejoice. Arise, O Lord, As our Defender rise ! Oh ! magnify His name ye saints, The name of Jah He bears. Bis chasgers are the elements, He rides upon the spheres. Yet to the orphan and oppressed His guardian care is given : He hears the widowed and distressed, Yea ! from the throne of Heaven. 54 He is the G-od of concord ; He Doti loose the captive's chain ; EebeUious foes by His decree Shall still in want remain. Almighty ! when thou wentest forth, — Thou, in thy Conqueror mood, — How dropped the Heavens; how shook the Earth; How Sinai trembling stood ! Thou art gone up on high again, Captive are Death and Sin ; Thou hast received gifts for men, And dwell' st their courts within. 84 a fflniiwia-wap' «&^ r/» a «a q« «» jj Oh ! praise tlie Omnipotent Lord, Hia mercy, his wisdom approve ; Oh ! praise his infallible word, That lays open the fountains of Love. When darkness and chaos wide hurled, Reigned supreme o'er the regions of night, He spread his wings over the world : He opened the flood-gates of light ! He planted his fires ia the sky ; He appointed and governs their course ; He gave the stars labours to ply ; He metes out the elements' force. 56 The earth was spread out by his hand, All restless and heaving with life, And her breast at his bounteous command With food and with plenty was rife. By him Uffc the mountains their beads, And the valleys their riches unfold ; He tore out the torrents their beds And laid the sea's carpet of gold. How wide, comprehensive his care. How vast, how minute are his works ; The Oeean he farmed, and the tear 'Neath the half-opened eye-lid that lurks. He painted the mountains and sky, O'er the rocks their dark mantle He flings ; Tet he mingled the delicate dye That feathers the butterfly's wings. 5^ By his poW^, the I TeariJo^ through wdbdlailds gre&n ; bolmdinig Away. Baciag and lehasing now j — Quietly piiS&mg now-^^ PoUowing each other through thidbet aiid brake ; Stealing so soft along-. Listing the wild-bitd's Song) Kissing so slyly thd flbVfers e'tB thby Wijke-. 65 Seeking the willows white, Nestling their streams so bright, Under their bowers, as they bend o'er the tide ; Hurrying away once more, — Off with a gladsome roar, — Sweeping the grassy shore, growing more wide. More closely now clinging, And hand in hand springing, I^om precipice flinging, all fearless and wild ; Now rolling, and rattling. Now boyishly battling, Careless and bold, Nature's turbulent child! Skimming the meadows green, Diving the woods between, Bearing the water-hen swift on their breast ; Over the shingles then. Eager through tangled glen, Rustling the underwood, seeking her nest ! 66 Where the deer stand to gaze, "Where the black cattle graze, Where the goat bounds o'er the chasm so deep ; Where the lambs skip and play, Watching them trip away ; Now gliding tamely where lie the still sheep. Thus on life's early wings, Soon as the morning brings Perth aU her gladsome things, — freely they stray. Joyously, — cheerily, Happily, — ^merrily, Passes their infancy, — ^hasting away ! PAET SECOND. Now in Youth's headlong course, Borne with impetuous force, Stubborn, unyielding, intractable, strong ; Seeking new objects stiU, Tet, with a changing wiU, Quitting them ever and hurrying along. Sometime through field and grove, Murmuring his ardent love, ■Wooing the gentle Spring — stiU by her side, Now in his mildest mood. Now in his wildest flood. Joyously, am'rously, loving to glide. 68 Oft tlie glad woods among, Pilled with hev joyous song, Loves he to listen, and linger and rest ; When in the twilight dim, Blithely she chants to him, 'Tranced into slumber he dreams on her breast. Visions of each bright thiag. Decking his fairest spring. Deep in his bosom lie mirrored so true ; Deepest the pensive sky. Changed by the donds that fly, — Varied expressions in her eye of blue ! Oft in the half-lit glen, Shujining the gaze of men, Where she spreads flowers for him, roves he unseen Softly he seeks her now, 'Neath the o'erhangiftg bough. Decked by her hand with fresh garhmds of green ! "Where slie on ruins grey, Smiling at dull decay, "Writes her green name on the moss-covered towers,- There will he musing stray, "Winding his solemn way Bound their dark masonry — ^through the dull hours. Off again ! off again ! Par from the level plain. Darting away with his charmer once more ; - 'Neath gardens stretching wide, On the hUl's sunny side, "Where she delights aU her treasures to pour. "Where the old hall is seen Dark, the tall woods between, "Where the hoarse rook ever murmurs on high : Strange voices breathe around, — And the wind's mofumful sound — Sadly they speak of the ages gone by : 70 Perhaps for a moment there Clouding his features fair, Rests the dark shadow upon the young wave ; Soon will he bound away, Sparkling, and bright, and gay ; Ruin alone and old-age should be grave. Now in his wildest flood, Now in. his mildest mood. Recklessly, joyously, still doth he stray ; Stubbornly, tamelessly, Changefully, — aimlessly. Youth's sunny hours do pass — gHding away ! -So joyously, joyously, whither bound ye ? -Whence comes this grey sire ? — Now what dost thou see 71 Old man, that thou lookest so wildly ? " Ah ! me, " A vision of Men and of Cities, and curled " Mid the hmn of the Crowdj and the shock of the "World, " Mid the Towers and the Palaces stately and gay, " Is a once sunbright Eiver which steals it's dark way " All bkek and impure, and struggles to flee " IVom the turmoil of Grrandeur, and longs to be free ! " Old Man ! Grey-haired Father ! now what dost thou see ? That thou lookest so gently, yet proudly on me ! " A Vision of GHory ! The Ocean behold ! " And a morning all brightness — a splendour untold ! " And the sun with no mantle his grandeur to fold ! " And the Heayens one rich glow with his beams widely roUed ! " %Ti fl that Ocean aU woven with purple and gold ! " I see the glad Eiver ! It comes ia it's joy ! " For here it shall fling off it's last dark alloy, " Oh ! here is the ever-yoimg. Here would it fly ! 72 " And it looks not back now to Life's first joyous stage ! " Like the white locks surmounting the -wTinkles of age, " Are it's waves furrowed deeper and crested with foam ! " And it comes iu it's weariness — comes to it's home ! " How crest heaves to crest, and how wave blends with wave ! " How miagles this Life with the Life of the Grrave !! " FummmiB ©r k pm\ Mine is the charm, whose mystic sway, The Spirits of past Delight obey; — Let but the tuneful talisman sonnd. And they come like Genii, hovering round. — LaUa Rookh. " The Pythagoreans held Music in high estimation, as a corrective of the Passions." INTEODUCTOET STAJSTZAS. Fleet Chariot of the Pancy ! Borne by thee Oft from the Present have I soared, to sweep Through the dim regions of Puturity, — To track the Past as mystic and as deep — To gaze on many a sleeping Century ! Thy lofty course stiU fiery Music keep. On through the realms of Time, until alone Thy burning wheels are circling round the Throne. 74 Fountain of Inspiration ! source most pure Of noble feelings ! Hopes and Joys and all The World is ever striving to ensure, Thou can'st create, anticipate, recall : Thou art a mystic spring of health, to cure The mental leprosies in which we fall ; To cleanse our thoughts — ^to aid us to regain The Purity of Childhood's years again ! Sea of Emotions ! mingled, restless, strong, — Upon whose bosom I so oft repose. My Spirit gliding on the tide of Song, — Eesigned to thee the heart forgets it's woes. As swifbly, silently it drifts along, [flows ! For that bright shore towards which thy current Oh ! teach me then to paint thy varied form. Thy soothing calm, — thy wild, majestic Storm. PEEPACE. " Lives there a man " whose spirit never felt, Soft Music's power to gladden or to melt ; "Whose heart ne'er danced tinto thy joyous chime, Or softly, slowly beat the measured time : "Who never ra the sacred House of Gf-od, "When up to Heaven the pealing Anthem flowed. And hearts and voices rose in unison, And thoughts and feelings blended into one, Eelt to his feUow man a dearer tie, A closer union with the Deity ! A converse sweet — for, as the strains arise, A melody within the heart replies. If such an one there be — in. thought and mind Lost to the finer feelings of mankind, 76 (For such lie must be, who hath never trod, That smoothest pathway of the soul to God,) For him I write not, words could never teach The heart that harmony has failed to reach. But for the breasts that Kke my own have glowed, Wten Music's soul-iaspiring torrent flowed ; For breasts that like my own have thrilled when e'er Some joy-awakening measure filled the air ; For hearts that like my own have throbbed and bled When sorrow poured her requiem o'er the dead — For these I would recall to memory's ears The joys — emotions, of their earlier years; The Hopes, the burning Hopes that would inspire "V^hen ev'ry lofty feeling swept the lyre ; To such as these, there is within, a mine, A source of pleasures that are all Divine. * * * % * m Oh ! Thou Great Soul of Music ! who didst call This Universe of Harmony, in all It's tunefulness, from tuneless chaos first ; - 77 Who mad'st the stany worlds, that iastant burst Porth on their tracks of Melody — and spheres Whose strains could pour new joys on Seraph's ears. Not least among Thy mercies, do we feel This gentle, fluttering bliss, whose power doth steal O'er our dark Spirits, and whose influence Do all thy creatures own. G-rant me due sense Of this Thy goodness, and vouchsafe to guide These trembling efibrts of my Muse untried ; Oh ! aid me whilst I sing th' Enchantress given To solace Earth yet raise our souls to Heaven ! Oh ! there are chords within the human breast, Which most do vibrate when least rudely pressed ; The FeeUngs they — struck by a word, a thought, In art unskilled — ^by Nature only taught, Tet other tones can fire, can sooth, can please. Only as they do harmonize with these. In Youth, when health and vigour know no fear. And buoyant spirits laugh at fiiture care ; When large and bright the distant prospects rise Brought by Hope's telescope to longing eyes ; When aspirations high the heart elate, And spur it onwards to contend vyith fate ; Then as some lofty strain resounds above, And rings of Fame, of Chivalry, of Love, With genial fire the untried bosom glows, And through each vein the generous torrent flows. 79 Wann with an ardour that belongs to truth, Warm with a feeling found alone ia youth, That, like a bird of passage, dwells awhUe Where joy's fair sunshine and bright roses snule. Then, as the storms are gathering, quits it's nest. And seeks it's summer in another's breast. In after years, grown callous in the strife. Or worse — the cold monotony of Life, Though still those well-known notes recall again The bHss of boyhood's aU-confiding reign. New hopes attract — new objects greet the sight, New schemes employ — and other strains delight. In age perchance he smiles, more sadly wise. At youth's too faithless hopes, too fleeting joys ; Behold ^^^Tn now, his heart attuned anew, With nobler warmth a loftier theme pursue ; Far different chords awake his sympathies ! Far different tones arouse his energies ! 80 For see ! within his lowly cot he stands, And at his feet, her -gently folded hands Hid neath her golden tresses' sunny wreathes, His little grandchild sits — she sits and breathes Notes that on Seraph's wings are borne above. Her hymn of Praise, of Grratitude, of Love ! And oft she gazes on his face the while With look of guUeless love, and cheering smUe, And plays with his few scattered locks of white. Whilst he bends o'er her with a fond delight. Or gently raises to the calm, blue sky. His dim eyes, glistening -with the tears of joy ! Ajid the two childish hearts together blend. And heavenward with the trembling notes ascend. Tea ! there's a key-note to life's ev'ry stage, — Some feeling, sympathy — from Youth to Age. II. How have I loved thee Music ! Thou hast been My sole companion in so many a scene ; And thou so oft hast cheered my wayward mood And banished oft my Spirit's solitude, That loneliness, despondency, that rests At times, we know not why, within our breasts ; And those unfathomed terrors which oppress When musing on our being's Nothingness. Then, music, thou cans't fill the void so drear, And the heart breathes thee as a vital air, And, as thou spread' st around thy bahny gales, Fresh hope, fresh vigour and new life inhales. The languid patient thus, with pallid cheek, Leaves his bleak land, some genial cUme to geek Where softer Zephyrs to the frame impart Their glow, — and lend their lightness to the heart. And my young years have gjtent sorrow known, Sorrow th' Ennobler of the mind : — ^my own 82 It may be, has not thus heen schooled in vain — I said, that have had my hours of paia ; Not the less felt perchance — ^that shared by none, None dreamt of their existence. How each one Dwells in his hidden world of busy thought, "With golden hopes and high ambitions fraught. Piled into gorgeous Palaces — unseen By the all-judging crowd — and yet I ween Their ruin gives a pang that none may trace Because the outer world hath there no place. Have we not all a thousand griefs and joys Which change with ev'ry hour — although the toys Which change around us, have not wrought the change ? But our wild thoughts iu their unbridled range, — Have we not thousands of intruder fears That will imbidden rise ? are'there not tears That all concealed roll on their burning flood, Back to the heart retuming — like the blood ? Tea ! I have brooded in brief's darksome ceU, The cave where Giant Thought best loves to dwell. Whose arched roof is sharp with frozen tears, 83 All pointed inwards, — bristling there like'spears, — And weeping icicles, that weeping grow — Fed by each drop — fit symbols of our woe ; Here in it's deep and threatening blackaess cnrl'd, Here have I cowered, and gazed upon the world, (Not without loathing) it's grim entrance through, I own that grim and narrow was the view — And eyes too that long time in darkness stay, Not without pain confront the glare of day. And often, from this boundless, drear abyss, (Where darkness lies entombed — ^whose untried space Cloaks phantoms dim — of shapeless Majesty, The Grandeur of fear-crowning Mystery !) One charm alone has had the power to win My spirit forth. Music ! that charm was thine ! Thiae with a mightier sway to burst the chains, Which bound me where the G-od of Silence reigns ; Thine to re-lead me to the cheerful day; Bearing me on thy thousand wings away ! Again — ^when happier hours were mine ; When bright the cup of joy would shine. 84 And foam and sparkle (oft of late It foams but to evaporate) 'Twas thiae to raiee the golden draught To ardent lips that madly quaffed ; To fiU, and jBU again the bowl, That poured such rapture on my sovl. "What art thou ? no unmeaning tone, Lurking iu cavemed reed alone ; No rapid changes of mere sound From string or pulsefijl wire that bound ; No trills, that poured from lab'ring chest, Are to the ear alone addressed ; 'Tis only Music when we feel, It's influence e'er the Spirit steal, When Passions aU untamed obey. The potent Magic of a lay ; When in our breasts, some strain doth stir, The echoes lightly slumbering there. III. An old man lay upon a bed of death ; A peaceful death — so still the glistening eye, So calm the brow — so even the low breath, Thou had'st guessed nought of pain or sorrow nigh, Save for the face yon sunny tresses wreathe, ("With bloodless lips stifling the unbidden sigh) "WTiich bends above his pillow — ^yet reveals, Less in that gaze, than the young bosom feels. An orphan she — since her fifth thoughtless year (Ten summers since) her fleeting days have known. Save her loved grandsire's, no parental care. But her whole life was centred in that one- He was her heart's flrst idol — ^who Ues there ! Another hour and she will be alone ! Alone, indeed! — aU her young hopes and fears Were his — and his, the child's first smiles and tears. And she was fair as the white violet That infant fingers pluck in early spring — And gentle as it's fragrance — ^young hearts beat, At her approach, with feelings such as fliog Around those guileless breasts their iofluence sweet And Uve upon those cheeks — she was a thing That seeing was to love — her soft deep eye Seemed a bright page of the Grod's poesy ! But silent anguish now those eyes confessed, And from her cheek the niddy hfe had fled, And not a throb convulsed th' unconscious breast. Nor ever moved the wildly upraised head, Although her clammy hand the old man pressed, That fell aU powerless upon his bed. And raised his face to hers, and faintly smiled, Whispering " Q-od wiH protect thee stiU, my child." I saw her once again — the light form knelt tTpon a recent grave, — and on the ground 87 Again that gaze of tearless anguish dwelt ; And from the bloodless Hps there broke no sound, And from the eye no light — I saw, and felt What 'tis to be alone ! Her speech had found Nought to replace love's accents — and her sight It's brilliance lost when his smiles ceased to light. But soothing was the hour and soft the sky, And gentlest Music filled the earth and air ; A thousand winged warblers lifted high Their unconeerted strains (and yet who e'er Heard Discord mar the glorious Minstrelsy) And softly o'er them aU the breeze did bear, The Erening chimes — and oh ! such magic swept Into her sweUing bosom — and she wept ! And with those tears what blissful thoughts have sprung Forth from the softened heart — as when, at last, The thunder-cloud (whose threateniag blackness long, The parched earth's burning, life-deserted breast, 88 Hath with it's stiltry breathlessness o'erhung) Descends in kindly showers, whose short reign past, Joyous, the many coloured sweets arise, To fan the hot land with their fragrant sighs. , Death ! 'tis a word that few unmoved can hear ! His presence few, without a shudder, see — Ajtid yet how kind his office, and how drear "Were earth without him. Do we die — ^we flee All sad remembrances — all present fear. Or, if bereaved of those we loved ? Then He Blots out our visioned IHiture, but to cast A purer, heavenlier radiance o'er the past ! IV. Oh, Harp ! Oh, Soul of Cambria ! tuneless long. Oh ! patriot bards, whose warrior-waking song, Once roused up Freedom's echoes ia each breast, And pealed such strains, as broke a tyrant's rest. Oh ! 'twas a ministry, iadeed Diviue ; Here, ia the ancient Briton's latest shriae, To watch, and feed those sacred vestal fires,^ The Talour and the Freedom of their sires ! — Edward ! it was a wise and glorious thing, And well became so. sage and brave a king, To gaiu the fort that had so long withstood, By wading through that moat, of Minstrel blood ! Y. I saw an armed host with their banners advancing, And pale was each cheek and each lip quivered then ; And coldly from spear and from helmet were glancing The moonbeams that timidly stole through the glen. Silently marched they — all save the low crashing Of hoofs, as they wound through the narrow defile ; Brave were their hearts^^ — yet each heard, o'er the clashing. The quick, timeless pulse of his bosom the whUe. I saw them when Morn fired each glittering casque, "When formed on the field in their fatal array — I saw a Hght cloud veil the sun Hke a mask. And he turned — perhaps to smile on their homes far away ! 91 One moment's dread stillness — and slow and unsteady Heaved ev'ry steeled bosom — as though they could feel The presence of Death in the hot air already — But hark ! hark ! the bugle's .electrical peal ! Like the Lightning that starts from the thunder-cloud, Flashes each eye so darkly browed ; Tingles each cheek with a wild desire ; Dances each heart with a wilder fire ; Rushes through every nervous arm The vigour of youth, and it's courage warm. Madly to ev'ry darkling brow Hurries the fevered torrent now ; Wild visions fly through each heated brain E'er the echoes have ceased of that thr illin g strain ; To thousands of eyes so extiltingly cast What laurels wave high in that trumpet's blast. Forth flies each sabre ! Away ! away! — How, the foam of their steeds, Hke the Ocean's. spray, Is flying aloft o'er that reckless sea. 92 As they champ their bits in their savage glee, And tear up the earth with their hoofs of fire, And fling to the mountains their laugh of ire ! Vainly they combat the tightened rein, And rear on their haunches, and plunge — in vain : And arch their proud necks, and wildly strain, Like the Vultm-e bending above his prey In his thirst for blood. Away ! Away ! As the wild horses dash to the desert afar, When chased by the thunder — so poured the red war ; As the darkness descended on Egypt of old. So seemed the hot smoke-wreathes around them to fold ; But I heard the hoarse clash of the death-ridden steel. And the foe-crushing tramp of the charger's armed heel. And the fierce cannonade— like that peal of dismay That the forest King flings, e'er he bounds on his prey. I heard the wild shriek of the wounded arise, And the cheer of revenge that insulted the skies. 93 But I knew tliat in many a combatant's ear Still high above all rang that war-note of fear, And that ev'ry true blade, as it planted the blow, To that clarion beat time on the breasts of the foe ! I gazed upon the flesh-strewn battle-field, "When the loud storm had rolled itself afar ; — The horrors that foul carrion-heap reyealed ! Methought that hence the glutton-monster "War Had driven, for lack of victims, his scythed car To yonder strong and well-defended hiU, Whence still the sulphur-pregnant breeze did bear The thunderings of his wheels, that echoed stiU Subdued and softened partly like a muffled peal. My glances rested on a mangled thing, (Whose motion caught my horror-fettered sight,) As half he raised himself, and seemed to fling Afar his blood-shot eyes, in whose fierce Ught, Couched Agony iu ambush, whose Ups white 94 Seemed bubbliag sounds of liquid torment. Oh ! The burning, parching tortures of that night ! Why lists he so to yonder booming now P See where crooked Misery sits writhing on his brow ! To yon life-watered glen 'neath the murky sky, Turned he again that blood-shot eye ; To yon life-watered pass, in. whose crimson flood Each blade of grass drinks a warrior's blood. For a new sound rose with the "Wind's sad sigh ; — 'Twas the trumpet-blast of Victory ! ! Up started he ! — from his gaping side Forth gushed in a torrent the mystic tide. As he waved his red hand with a glance of stem pride, And a wild " Viva " burst from his Ups — as he died ! VI. Oh ! for the lyre that Calliope's son Erom his father Apollo obtained ! The lyre whose imwonted and magical tone The ear of all Nature enchaiaed ! The beasts of the forest their fury forgot, And sUently listening stood ; The riyers piled high their huge waves at the spot, And hushed their tumultuous flood. The hiUs and the woodlands green shook with applause, As swept the high measure along ; At his grotto the far-travelled breezes would pause, And load their wide wings with his song ! But not to the forests though varied their hue, Nor the mountarus though golden their crest. Nor the sky, nor the waters of deep, pensive blue, "Were the bliss-bearing accents addressed. 96 But every Passion aroused him in turn, Love's madness ttrobbed Mgh in his veins, How brightly, how fiercely the flame seemed to bum. How wUd, yet how sweet were his strains. As he pours the deep bUss on Euridice's ear Ev'ry chord touch~ed with love's matchless guile, As tenderly, tremblingly soft as her tear. And as glowingly rich as her smile, Vith mystical eloquence boldly reveals What Music alone can express, — Those feeUngs the heart never calmly conceals, Tet knoweth no words to confess. Now the glad thrills of triumph his swift finger hurls, Joy lightly and carelessly springs. And bounding away — ^through the long mazy whirls. Trips laughingly over the strings. But hark ! the strata changes, and mournful and slow. The sad notes, Kke big tears, one by one Trickle forth, and at times with some sharp pang of woe. The wild discords clang fearfiiUy on. 97 And the very birds cease their glad songs ia the sky, Nor jar with that desolate sound ; And only in heaven is heard the witid's sigh, And only the leaves murmur round. And he vents his lone grief by the side of the dead, StiU. moans the monotonous wire, — But see ! a warm flush o'er his features has spread And the chant rises prouder and higher. List ! list ! to the first trembling tones of fresh hope, Which start from that chaos of woe, Now quick and uncertain — but gaining new scope Soon bolder and firmer they grow. All unchecked and impetuous now it flows on ; What wiU not Love's genius dare ? Unshrinkingly — armed with his lyre alone He seeks the stem realms of despair ! yii. In Heaven is Music ! Oh, how sweet above, Music the offspring of eternal love ; There bHss untold, for words alone too strong. Can only burst enraptured into song ; There Hosts Seraphic loud Hosannnas sing And strike with trembling joy the golden string ! "Would that my hand like his could sweep the lyre, — The bard — whom "Hope Eternal" did inspire; Then should "immortal Music" be my theme; Music that still shall pour her changeful stream. When Hope no more can point the ardent eyes To brighter visions, or a nobler prize ! Then Angel-Kke, on fluttering pinion driven. Shall loftiest Music cleave the vault of Heaven ; And, winging round th' enthroned Lamb, shall pour Her notes of Praise, of Love for evermore ! LINES WEITTEN ON A BLANK LEAP OF MMFiEFS ®li@l®E. " K Heaven the grateful liberty would give, That I might choose mt method how to Hve ;" Eirst, aU those hours propitious Pate should lend, Pain would I to some noble purpose spend ! Por who would crawl unhonoured to the grave, Of man's worst tyrant, Love of Ease, the slave ; Pleased in ignoble fetters to remain. Because, forsooth, he wears a golden chain ; — How can mankind be free ? — All Eartli bestows, Is but the choice of masters — and of woes — Tet free we are to choose the yoke least hard. The noblest toils and the most rich reward. 100 To serve the Mgli and pure debases not, But elevates the soul. How foul his lot. Who scorns to bend before the loftiest throne. And cringes, at that meanest shrine — his own ! This then be mine, fall lowlier hopes resigned) To serve my G-od, my Country, and my Kind ; Ctrateful alike, whate'er with-held or given, My Home, my Treasure, and my Friend, in Heaven. kM imiikimM. Ah, me ^ what is Life ? Why should we keep up a foolish strife ; Always children for threescore years, — And exceedingly troublesome little dears ! KJiekiag and plunging in leading strings, Mating a series of odd little springs, Always expanding one's great goggle 6yes And clutching one's fingers at some baby prize That twinkles or jingles :•■ — first it's the moon. Or perhaps, in these days, an enormous balloon, Or an ivory ring, or a piece of red coral ; Then we all gape at gold, or a bit of green laurel. To struggle and scream, and to slaver and sputter. And to spurn with contempt one's good brown bread- and-butter — This can't be Ufe to which mortals so chng, One would think — If it be, it's -a very ridiculous thing ! (Written on a blank leaf of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.) Te who have peopled so our memories "With bright and glorious things — ^have filled the past "With loftiest beings — and no phantasies — Tor these are they whose influence shall last, And sway the future — whilst the myriads vast Of mere realities, but carve their name Idly upon the bark of Time, which fast The gUding years reclose — ye who inflame And mould and guide wild hearts, and prompt each noble aim ; 103 Milton and Shakspeare (migLtiest one) and he, The great magician of the Fairy Queen — And hosts of Spirit Voices all, — to me. How great a part of being have ye been ! But vrildly, Byron, thrills thy harp, I ween, Par through the soul's deep caverns (worn by tears), And rapturously, — from the stem crags between I listen to it's echoes, for it bears The murmurs of the flood — the glad flood of past years ! And still thy lay shall- those sweet murmurs breathe. Still to my heart their gentle influence lend Through darkest hours — tiU the great Searcher Death Impatient, from slow Age, the torch shall rend Which lights bim to his prey — if then it end ! How oft with thee by mountain path and plain In thought I wandered — and where dark waves blend — Tea ! I " have laid upon the Ocean's mane My hand," and "o'er the glad blue waters" danced again ! 104 With thee I've mused upon an Empire's tomb And read the one great page of History* there — And so have loved the wanderer. What though some, Too pure, at least for Saul's great crime — to spare. Knew not how wrongs and blighted hopes may snare A spirit wild and passionate ui mood Into excesses which the heart wUl dare, Yet shrinks from and abhors — ^not they, whose blood Is as the chaste cold snow, should judge the lava flood. Pride was the rock he split on — ^he was one Wbo had not, ia the world's pride rending toU, The christian's comfort to fall back upon ; But, with a martyr spirit, would recoil On that which only aided to despoil. Oh ! had religion been his object first, He would have had wherewith the world to foil, A spring at which to quench ambition's thirst, A subject worthy of his Q-enius' mighty burst. * " And History with all her volumes vast Hath but one page — 'tis better written Itere." — CMlde Harold. 105 Hia spirit, like the Alps he loved to climb, Triumpliaiat reared it's lofty form on high. But, like them too, it's heights the most sublime "Were frozen all where nearest to the sky. His thoughts from the volcano's bosom fly. But reaching earth, soon harden into glass ; His genius 'neath an ioe-cloud canopy, ITurtured on sullen heights of pride, alas ! A mighty avalanche, pours down it's frozen mass. Upon the glorious, unclouded height Of steep PamassuSj stands the bard — alone ; High o'er the crowd of men his throne of light ; His feelings, sympathies to them unknown ; And things of a creation all his own His friends and comrades are, beings that now, On playful Zephyrs of his genius flown. People the sunbeams, and in. mid air glow, Or vitalize the mists that wreathe the mountain's brow. 106 Creatures whose eyes are glistening on each spray, Who shake the incense from each shrub and flower, Who float in each bright bubble that doth play Upon the glassy stream ; making their bower, Their sUyer palace, and their moated tower Of that transparent dome. Tea, and there dwell Spirits who bend them to the poet's power, In his yast universe, of nobler spell, Who fill all matter, soar to Heaven or fathom Hell ! Then hear ye, for the Poet was diviae ! ! — There Is ia man that falls not with the rest — What noble feeling in each lofty line Of Nature and her glories is exprest ; It seems as though his soul (how richly blest) Became a part of that it gazed upon, And minghng with her works around, his breast. Was wild, sublime^ or tranquil as her own, Her moiintains, seas, in storm or rest, alike his throne. 107 'Tis thus that by bright Leman's peaceful lake, In musings deep and placid as it's flow Steal forth his melodies — and thus too breafe, As wild and vivid as the storm's red glow, His lightnings of description — and even so, He bursts upon us in the cataract's roar, Or paints in mighty numbers, heaving slow, Dark Ocean's power, resistless as of yore, — Then sinks to murmurs like it's tide upon the shore. Yes ! here is much to love and to admire. And Charity whilst with a pitying eye, She marks his faults and frailties, should desire His glorious gifts and virtues to descry. Not to despise and spurn them ; at least I Who owe such hours of pleasure to his strain, If but from gratitude alone, must sigh, Over the comet's transient, joyless reign, Although it carried terror in it's brilliant train. IN IMITATION OF SPENCEE'S FAIET QUEEN. CANTO FIRST. The dense woods of Perplexitie The Knight and Prince retain; They meet with Patriotism fm, In great distress and pain. Forth stepped Sir Eeginald, and bending low Tke miglity G-loriana's throne before, That high adventure claimed ; which granted, now With eager haste, his spreading bosom o'er, He flings the shining steel — a goodly store. Upon his stalwart arm a wond'rous shield, The shield of Constancie he proudly bore. That might no weapon pierce ; on many a field It sheltered had that breast which nerer learnt to yield. 109 And by his side a two-edged blade be bung, Tbe sword of a Good Cause. Otber was none Of temper like to it — so keen and strong To strike and ward. His dauntless brows upon Tbe behnet of Higb Hope unsullied sbone And ia bis good rigbt band a spear be bare Of so great virtue none it's force migbt sbun — The spear of Truth. Brightly it gleamed afar — And flashed when raised on high like to some lustrous star. Then to his steed he sprung. Beside him rode That fair and noble Prince, whose bearing well His gentle blood and lofty Hneage shewed. His soft blue eye unfitted to repel — The ringlets fair that on bis sboidders fell — The joyous Beauty lurking still beneath His features' borrowed sternness, seemed to teU Of summer hours — of Love's impassioned breath. Of softness and of bUss. Nor spoke of wars and death. 110 But yet there was a firmness on the brow ; And in the speaking eye a kiadUng fire, And a strong grasp of the feir hand to shew What the young heart coxdd dare, whose holy ire Burned for a ruined country, murdered sire. 'Tis thus in. gentlest things that kindred love Courage the sternest, loftiest, wiU inspire. And man may learn this lesson from the Dove, Only aifeetion pure can generous valour move. So forth they passed (whUst yet the sun was high) Upon their difficult and dangerous course. Expecting, till some lurking enemy Their further progress shoidd oppose with force. Meanwhile the Prince traced from their fatal source His many wrongs already briefly told, A thousand others adding — worse to worse — And many a tale of horror did unfold, And the whole painful history of his life unroUed. Ill How that ffippocritus a cruel fiend (Who, in the form of man and 'neath the cloke Of Piety, his hellish foulness screened) "With all his host of monsters freshly broke Prom out the under-world — loudly awoke EebeUion fierce against his father's crown And insolently fierce had with fell stroke In tJie King's name destroyed his life and throne. And in the name of God had swept His temples down. How that, all hope destroyed-^is father dead His councillors in exile — bound or slain The master fiend made king — himself had fied, Seeking some aid to win his lost domain. Vengeance to wreak, and honour to regain. , =/ - " my poor people," said the royal youth, " Daily devoured by this infernal train ! " Tet soon thy foes who know no gentle ruth, " Shall shrink dismayed before the mighty arms of Truth." 112 Conversing thus, their tangled way they press Through a black forest vast, where track was none, Whose mighty trees their steps impeded less Than the dark web of brushwood closely spun. And round about the thorny meshes run And clung so wilfully their limbs unto, Forcing them from their path, that when the Sun 'Neath the taU woodland plunged and Darkness through This her best loved retreat, on drowsy pinions flew. They wist not which way they should turn their face. Nor where the outlet of that wood should lie ; Nor step of aught save wild-beast might they trace, Nor any former passage could espy ; When suddenly — a feeble human cry Broke from that lab'rinth with no distant sound — The voice of one who plained pitiously, Praying for aid, if aid might there be found. Whom to discover, with great haste they search arouad. 113 Till, guided by the accents, they arrive Where on the ground lay stretched a knightly form, Sore wounded and appearing scarce aUve ; AR stripped he was of arms and dothfaig warm And shivering in the blast : for a rude storm Now shook the forest by it's thousand arms With a strong grasp. Loud rung the martial shawm Of the fierce whirlwind, spreading wild alarms : Soon of its leafy mail each trembler it disarms. Bleeding the stranger was from many a rent Bound with that forest's leaves which had no power The ebbings of the life-blood to prevent, But rather seemed to irritate the more Each painful wound, in Death's most painfiil hour, Por such the Pairy deemed it, but not so The Prince who looked on one well-known before. And bounding to his side and bending low. Breathed forth a glorious name in tones of deepest woe. 114 " Oh ! Patriotism, brother of my heart !" The words seemed like the touch of magic wand, For when the other heard, with sudden start He bounded to his feet, seizing the hand Outstretched to aid him, and essayed to stand, Tittering loud cries of joy, until his Lord Bade him at present lys delight command. Then on his wounds a healing balm they poured, And bound them, and him clad as best they could aiford. Next for some shelter they began to seek. And not far off a Uttle c£tve they found "Wherein to rest them untU morn should break, And kindling up a fire upon the ground They spread, stiE armed, their wearied limbs around, And here with care they brought the rescued man. And bade him teU who gave his cruel wound Leaving him thus — which way the traitor ran. And how long time ago — he answering, thus began : 115 " Long time, thou tnowest, O my Prince !" lie said, " This dauntless arm th' insultiag foe restrained And every where the desperate battle led ; Whilst for my country yet a hope remained Not idle was my shaft, my sword unstaiaed ; Not vainly waved the flag, but seldom furled Till furled with honour and willk victory gained. Though stiU the impious foe fresh vengeance hurled. Though through our shattered ranks the battle tempest whirled. Still proudly flashed my trusty blade on high Burnished with lightning from the Grod of Heaven. StiE tore my arrow through the low'ring sty — To the free winds was Freedom's banner given ; And, as some mighty crag when thunder-riven Plings backward in it's fall the angry wave, So backward was the foeman's torrent driven ; But we too, Uke the rock — ^what power could save ! Pound, in the foaming tide — 'twas something still, a, grave. " I linger o'er these things, for my blood chills, At the remembrance of that fatal mom "Which ended all our struggles. 'Mongst our hiUs And fastnesses my little band were drawn ; And from our lofty post at early dawn We saw that hideous multitude appear, (As Ocean had poured? forth her countless spawn) . In mightier force ; but on advancing near Their whole array did pause, with one discordant cheer. " Then forth one stepped, of warlike front and bold, But of forbidding aspect : whom to meet I left my little band and mountain hold. And sallied forth upon my charger fleet AH fully armed for battle, for to treat "With the false foe, I knew could never be. Kerce joy thrilled in my veins — I longed to greet With the warm welcome of an enemy The leader fiend in aU his loathesome surquedry. 117 " Midway betwixt our ranks, a little mound Biose gently from the vale — ^towards this my steed I hotly pressed — that reaching it, I found The foe still distant — ^but he quickly freed His pawing charger and with furious speed Came thundering through the pass, on catching sight Of our far glistening arms — ^but little heed G-aiiied his defiant shout of fierce delight — !Por once more that wild cheer burst from the hostile height. " And looking up, — Oh, horror ! — ^I beheld — (How shall I speak the sight that met mine eye ? 'Twas but a moment, but it all revealed) I saw a ghastly head uplifted high Whilst round it the foul heU-houads' mad'ning cry Shrieked forth exultingly a name to me More dear (save one) than aught beneath the sky : A name aU-hallowed. O my God, to thee My covoatr J, fatherless, pours forth her misery ! 118 " An instant, heart, thought, sense, pulse, breathing stood; Then poured the vengeful torrent through each vein ; There was a raging devil in my blood, — On came the foe — one shout of proud disdain, — And on my charger's neck I flung the rein. And in his foaming flanks th' impatient steel Deep buried, till we left a gory train ; Oh ! gallantly we bounded ; I could feel . How strong dfespair was in me and how sternly still. " On came the foe ! Eevenge — revenge — in vain — Now furiously within the torrent whirled. And aU confusedly reeled my tortured brain ; Before my eyes a lake of blood dark curled Until it quite o'erwhelmed the outer world. And aU was night. Then sank my powerless spear. There was a shock— I felt myself down hurled Without a pause or check, — I knew not where, Down, down — there seemed a gulf as deep as my despair. 119 " How long, bereft of consciousness, I lay, I know not, but the demon foe meanwhile Thinking me slain outright, had torn away Prom my resistless limbs (a glorious spoU) The wondrous arms wrought by no mortal' toU, And in the well-known golden mail disguised, Had by base stratagem and treachery vUe My helpless troops, robbed of their chief, surprised And made an easy prey. 'Twas worthily devised. " Most worthy of his name, foul Perfidie ; 'Twas by his ruthless hand and crafty brain Dark browed Hippocritus was lifted high Upon your father's throne, and taught to reign : Himself the leader of a hideous traiu As bloodthirsty and cowardly as he — For I have seen the brutal dastard fain To cringe and cower till opportunity Should offer, from true hearts to snatch the Victory. 120 " Reviviag from my swoon, witli pain opprest And deepest woe, I staggered forth alone — The tearful Eve was weeping on the breast Of life-deserted Earth, who feeds upon The mid-day splendour of the gorgeous sun And breathes the light and drains the ardent beams That from his golden goblet sparkling run : And all unstinted flow the ruby streams Until the fav6uxed World with thankful gladness teems. " But night was fittest for a wretch like me, "Who wandered on without a hope or care UntU a distant light I chanced to see, Towards which I bent to seek for succour there : But woods and rocks upspringing every where Oft hid it from my sight, that, when at last It rose quite close before me bright and clear. My feeble limbs upon the ground I cast Exhausted with my toilsome path and struggles past. 121 But having called aloud, soon to my aid An aged dame approached with feeble pace ; By weight of years upon her shoulders laid Bowed down and worn ; hut of a cheerful face ; And when she raised her eyes, there was a trace Of calm determination in their Ught, UnqueUed by age : she, having reached the place. Inquiry made of this my woful plight, Then back returning fetched a cordial of great might, " Which wondrously restored my failing strength. And cooled the raging fever in my blood, And raised my drooping spirits ; then at length I bade my benefactress kind and good, G-uide where her cottage in the forest stood. Then stooping through a tangled path she led O'erhumg with the dense branches of the wood ; But ever to herself she muttered. At last we came where still the blaze high flickered. 122 " "Within a secret, solitary glen, Wliicli in the forest's heart lies buried deep, By thick grown boughs concealed from human ken The little dwelling stands : on one side steep And dark and barren rocks, piled heap on heap, IVown threateningly — the woody darkness round Moans solemnly — relentless torrents leap Prom the o'er hangiag crags — with furious bound They crash the forests through — the hidden depths resound. " But when we gained the little space before The entrance of the cot, 'twas sweet to view The clear, unbroken light of Heaven once more — The gentle Moon — the infinitely blue. The stars that one by one came sparkling through, — Till even this most wild and savage scene. Seemed to assume a soft and tranquil hue ; But She, the Enchantress of the spot, I ween. Made rock and headlong fall and forest smile serene. 123 ""With strictest charge of secresy the dame Slow entrance gave : (Dame Patience was she hight) At last beneath the welcome roof we came ; When lo ! beside the far seen brilliant light, A youthfiil lady wondrous fair and bright j Whose glance was as the Morning shedding wide It's richest store of promise and delight : But soon as me, a stHinger, she espied, Her modest beauty hastily she sought to hide. (in toekshiee.) " Awake my St. John, leave all meaner things," — Such, as the magazines or daily news, — • To clubs political and railway Kings : — "We wont say anything about Reviews : " Let us, since Life but little " pleasure brings, Enjoy our trip at least. — I think the Muse Recounted all my journey to the spot "Where I learnt — much, no doubt, that I've forgot. 125 I well remember how I left that spot. Then the low murmur of the river's glee ; And the far echo of the school-boy's note On some long-wished-for day of Jubilee ; And voices from the woodland and the grot, Where many an idle dreamer wandered free, "Were the sole sounds that trembled on the air Of Mom, Noon, Eve, — ^the soul's deep hush was there. Now I re-entered it. The shrieks that burst TVom barbarous iavaders, trampling down The land with iron feet, me greeted first ; And every where the tones of man did drown Those I had listened for. Oh ! man, thou worst, Most deadly foe to Nature's tottering throne. — Thou maw'st her form, drivest her Spirit forth Only unknown may she retain her worth. How painful was the sight. In such an hour. When Memory hath her idols swept away 126 Thus ruthlessly, she doth assert her power, And in her fierce convulsions springs to day A shape of fire,: — dim, indistinct, no more ; Her ey'ry feature a pure, Tivid ray, A uniTcrse foi^otten to iUume, One moment towers, — ^then sinks in endless gloom. The tales of " Axdd lang syne " that moment told ! Of things which seem to me an age siace now ! Though but a few brief years have o'er them rolled. Strange ! the young years that wrinkle not the brow. Have stiU their moments when the heart grows old. E'en the child's memory bath it's " long ago " ; The joyous Ugbts on distant objects cast, And tough, bleak foreground mark the pictured past ! But there were scenes, and there were hearts unchanged. And my thoughts turned to them with fond delight. And soon the friendly greeting was exchanged. With some not out of mind, when out of sight. 127 Nor last, my dear old tutor — long estranged, Who knew me inBtaiitly — ^though dim the light. And such a squeeze he gave my fist — aye really — Just as an old friend should and not genteelly. And there was Mrs. T but both were fuU Of business and had scarcely time to speak, Because the opening of their fine new school (Last, greatest change) took place that very week. Yet though I might look rather like a fool, I sat and watched them (perhaps you'U think me weak) Fixing a sentence on a fiag close by, — 'Twas " Floreat sternum, E. S. Y." And some old comrades (much to my surprise) Were still remaining ; soon with eager haste I sought them out, but scarce believed my eyes. When those whom I remembered as the least Of little fags — now whiskered, tall, and wise, (To all appearance) were before me placed ; 128 But tHey were right good fellows, and could tell About my other friends, which pleased me well. One went, they said, with Brooke, against those dear New friends of the Society of Peace ! The very cream of human kiadness they are, I only hope their numbers may increase. Charles must have known their feelings I should fear, And yet he gained (Heaven grant him a release From Cobden's fiery wrath) much hard earned praise, For blowing to the skies those nice Malays. One strapping fellow is a son of Mars, Has been to India and obtained I hear, A sallow face, and several honest scars ; Some have gained honours — (perhaps bought rather dear) At College, not a few have thanked their stars. On scrambling through ; and many still are there ; The needy to employ their powers of thinking, The rest perhaps to acquire the art of drinking. 129 One is a> farmer too, and if a face Not in the least like mine — or yours just now, , Be any great adrantage — in that ease He'll make his fortune soon. G-od speed the plough. I could expose the league, but have not space, And perhaps it's no use kickiag up a row ! To end my Ust, one through a sad disaster. Is- now " my Lord "; I really must move faster. They led me to the School and Railway Bridge, — Both admirable, but, — ^well ! well ! no matter — To me they seemed a sort of sacrilege ; I only hope that none may dare to batter The old place down, or injure stone or ridge. Of it's dark walls ; to alter, move/ or shatter One of the much carved forms and desks around 'em ; All I can say is, if they do, confound 'em. I passed — ^to seek each haunt of years gone by. Where I had sported, studied, mused, or strayed ; 130 And by the well-known footpath, clambering high Above the rocky Swale, early I paid A solemn visit (breathing many a sigh,) To Easeby's once fair Abbey,— 'neath the shade Of it's grey wails, to sit and chat awhUe With the fond ivy of that hallowed pile. And reminiscences sprang fresh and green, Like moss from ev'ry bank and stone and tree, And not a rent in the old ruias seen. Which years had widened, but appealed to me, As to a friend for pity — and I ween. Decay is a strong link of sympathy. In yon high arch, the ivy crowns my name, Par better than the laurel wreath of Pame. Swiftly the river glides in merry mood, Wrinkled with smiles, as though no thundering wheels. Broke hourly on the stilly solitude. It's finny children loved. On, on, it steals. 131 For it is ever yoxmg, and it's wild flood Still presses to the goal; who pauses, feeh / — All thoughtless thiags are hlest ; the old and grey Axe man's fit tutors — ^tum we to decay ! And once again my footfall echoed fast 'Mongst Easeby's aisles, age bent and tempest riven ; The parted masses of whose walls so vast, And solitary columns, poiut to Heaven — The warning, outstretched fingers of the past ! A warning solemn tothe unforgiven : . The still small voice speaics plainly to the ear. And truthfially, .... there is no dreaming heee ! Hbee, in obedience to the starlight hour. And to the spot, and to the influence Of that firm monitor's mysterious power, "With what calm Majesty o'er Thought and Sense, Does reeling Godlike rise : we seem to cower As something mightier than ourselves springs hence : 132 Something — ^we know not what — we know not now, AH it's bright Tellowship; — but we shall know ! What thrill ioipetuous through the bosom povirs ? It is the fluttering of the Spirit's wings, As from it's bed of clay th' Immortal soars ! And like the lark with Music heavenward springs ; — An airless music, that, o'er countless shores Of the wide Ocean Space, undying flings It's praiseful Melody! Companion fit Tor the glad voices of the Infinite ! Moments of subtlest bUss ! how the heart strains And swells, and bounds withia it's prison cell ; And the eye skims o'er it's unwaUed domains, Bearing the soul with it : aiid this poor shell Is gulphed in space beneath us ! the bright trains Of suns, heavens flowers — are weaving their pure speU Around us ; as we sweep 'mong worlds afar, — In what we shall be, losing what we are ! 133 If 't were not for those love-Ut eyes of night, "With their all-feeliag, all-pervading soul Beaming on us so eloquently bright, — If 't were riot for the deep-voiced Ocean's roU, 'Ear Mountaias, Eivers, Solitudes, we might (Beneath the world's implacable control), All but forget that we have nobler powers, Are more than men, — that more than earth is ours ! Heee I had many ficiends and teachers too. For my heart formed its own companions. And from my thotights and feeliugs spirits grew "With which I filled all matter ; trees and stones, And rocks and winds — ^the very clouds that flew, — And streams, and fountains ia melodious tones Conversed with me, and ev'ry blade of grass — But whither am I wandering, — let it pass. The mighty strong-hold, frowning o'er the steep, "Which rock and river, and the massive weight 134 Of Eampart, tower and still unshaken Keep, Made once impregnable — ^recalled, though late, My wandering steps ; I reached the hoary heap, ]?rom early youth a ruin — man's own fate ! Beneath, — ^with veins still full, the riyer roUed ; Above — those towers so weary, weary old ! A fit memorial of a warlike age ! Ah ! then men built themselves a monument To stand the brunt of years ; e'en now our page Dwelt on the ruined piles magnificent. Which tell of reverence and holy rage : "We too have our mementoes. Soon the rent * Of barbarism comes, and men shall gaze Upon the wrecks of these commercial days. Next mom, admittance gained within the waUa, An old man led the warrior-palace o'er. Descanting much on norman arches, stalls, And windows of its chapels, but much more * Wealth, vice, corruption, barbarism last. Childe Harold. 135 Upon tlie kitchens and the banquet halls Of the great Nephew of the Conqueror : I gazed, as gaze the living on the dead, And musing on the mighty Spirit, said : Thou tomb of bygone echoes ! the dread peal Of the eye-lighftig trumpet ; the armed heel ; The chargers tramp ; the death-bom claxig of steel ; Or (when some high occasion poured along Thy lofty arched halls, the knightly throng). The feast, the revelry, the shout, the song, The tale of chivalry, the wine-freed laugh, — These are thy dead ! SUenee their epitaph ! In twilight's stillness, aged shadows creep Into their long accustomed spots to weep ; But even they have dropped off one by one. As piece by piece thy mouldering towers have gone ; What rude mass darkens now the wave that imaged forth [thy pride ? Such shadows are all human thitigs uponTime's ruffled tide. 136 I climbed were "WiJlan's fearful plunge was made, Upon a rich and varied scene to gaze ; " Oh. ! for the pencil of Lorraiae, " I said, " Here it were well employed. " The silvery haze That every where in twinkling dances played, More than a cloudless sun's too brilliant blaze, i Plung over hiU. and valley, wood and stream, The soft enchantm^ent of a lovely dream. All was so fairy-like, iu that strange light, One feared some sound or motion might dispel The charm that gave an Eden to our sight And rouse us to the world ; what tongue can tell How fondly, purely, richly, heavenly bright, That dew of loveliness around me fell, — The tears of holy bUss, — ^but words are weak, There is no language for that I woidd speak. Nor could I drink my fiU of that sweet vale. Which still excited in mine eyes a thirst 137 Would seem unquenchable ; eye's dusky veil Fell gently round me, the taU shadows burst Like conquerors o'er the earth, and still the sail Of my glad fancy swelled. Still, as at first, I drained and turned, and turned and drained to feel. Intoxicate with bUss, my senses reel. And he whose story sanctifies the place, — It could not be that such a fearful doom Shoiild meet him here ! look round, and whilst you trace, (With languid eye sinking on beds of bloom. As hangs the bee on every flow'ret's face), This scene, which seems the weary Spirit's home ; Think that if earth holds any spot most dear To gentlest Mercy — ^it is surely here ! And thus to feel our fellowship with aU That holy is, and beautiful, — ^is life ! Oh !' we have glorious comrades ! yet enthral Our hearts in the dull world's umceasing strife. 138 "When Nature's free, fair spirits would recal Our kindred souls to ttem. This, this is life, Amongst tte pure, tlie exquisite to soar, "With sinless things to mingle and adore ! I once had some ambition — that expired, Man's part is to admire, and this the state Of real bliss ; but he would be admired ; He might be happy, but he would be great ! ' Tis strange what breasts such little hopes have fired,- Breasts formed to commune with the Uncreate. — To exercise, improve the nobler powers,* To think, to feel, and to enjoy be ours ! Again I leave fair Richmond. Much I fear I should o'er step the limits of a letter "Were I to tarry longer pondering here : I well remember what a dreadful fetter * " To those whom Nature taught to think and feel, Heroes, alas, are things of small concern. " Beattie. 139 My studies. were,^perliaps had they been more dear To me, and these things l^ss, it had heen better ; It was an idle rogue, truth will force that in, But then our poets laughed him out of Latin. With many a sad regret (for round me were Friends that do closest cKng) I took the road ; Bright were the skies above me, sweet the air, Smiling the wide-spread landscape as I rode : Soft were the sunbeams, fresh the breeze and faiir. And many a tiay face familiar glowed With Nature's honest blush of love and joy, That from the hedge-rows peeped as I passed by. A pretty little town is Masham, truly ; A merry little river is the Ure ; Though perhaps at times a little too unruly, — This I suspect, because it looks demure, (A common teick, but never let it fool ye). And innocently clear, and calm, and pure ; 140 With such a sly taste too for pretty scenery ; How black 'twould look 'mong factories and machinery. It's path is beautiful ; but should you come To HackfaU, you may^see it in it's pride, As I did ; but I first examined some Kne monuments in the Old Church, beside A painting by Sir Joshua — but I'm dumb Eespecting that — ^because, if I denied The beauty of what all so much admire, ('Twas Eeynold's work !) perchance 'twould rouse your ire. Mine doubtless is the fault, — be not severe, For many famous paintings have I seen Which do affect me not. The faidt is here. The sunbeams shine, (not unenjoyed I ween) Where'er they meet a genial atmosphere. Yet brighten not the mighty void between. There needs must he for G^enius' ardent flame A fitting element — 'tis just the same. 141 Swinton's romantic grounds hard by invite The rambler's steps^— here foliage-covered bowers, And grots, and artificial lakes delight — And, from their crystal palaces, the flowers Eich perfume breathe : and fair fruits tempt the sight ; But now the skies o'ercast, with sudden showers. And having much to view, I left the Park, In hopes to enter Eipon 'ere 'twas dark. But it grew dusk just as I reached HackfaU, A spot to.hnger iu the Hvelong day ! And I perforce must hurry o'er it aU, Scarce pausiag where the river darkling lay, And where, through barrier rocks, the waterfall Cleaves like a sword of light its furious way ! Where giant oaks a mighty host are seen, Gruarding the vast walls of the black ravine. Where the opposing heights some cunning hand Hath crowned with the grey fragments of a tower — 142 The work of Art ; — yet frownimgly they stand, As though some ancient Chief of lawless power, Had made the pass the strong-hold of his band ; 'We scaled the steep and traced (though dim the hour) The glorious scene that far extending Ues — Oh ! can there be aught wretched — which hath eyes ? Night hxirried on apace, and darkness deep Shrouded the city as I entered it ; Highly dissatisfied with my first peep, After slight rest and some refreshment fit, (Peeling no inclination yet for sleep), I wandered forth into the silent street. To look upon the Minster by the light Of the pale stars. Pleasant my dreams that night. My tale draws to it's close. You've visited, (Doubtless, for thousands the fair spot frequent) Studley — the beautiful ! the wreck wide spread Of Fountains Abbey — ^the Magnificent ! 143 (The Mammoth Skeleton ! The mighty dead ! "With more than liTiiig beauty clothed) ; have bent To catch the mysteries each stone reveals ; Have felt as he who gazes on them feels ! I need not dwell on such things ; 'twere in vain ; Awe, admiration, wonder, grief, delight, Pity, and reverence, and fear, and pain, Forgetfulness, — " the feeling infinite, " Eegretful longings ; rapture once again — By turns possess the breast — ^why should I write ? My feeble language little can express. And you have seen — 'twere better to say less. My tale is fimshed. By the cheerful glow Of our own peaceful hearth I sat once more That eve ; ia much less tedious sort than now Recounting every small adventure o'er : Mine was a right good audience, which you know Makes the best prompter for a narrator ; 144 A certain pipe glowed joyously the while, And (unobscured), a certain pleasant smile ! One thing a great addition would have been To my enjoyment ; and that one to have Some friend beside me, on each happy scene To smile with me — ^with me at times be grave ; To share his thoughts with me, when the long e'en A restless pause to the day's pleasure gave ; Had that one friend, I scarce need say, been you, My joy had been complete. Once more adieu. THE EiSAPE. WEITTEN OW EETTJBNING TBOM THE GEBAT EXHIBITION. Oh ! joy, to breathe the fresh, free air again Among my native hills. Mark you, this air Sleeps healthily o'nights on mountain tops, And rises vigorous- with the rosy morn, Fresh washed with mountain dew. Here it hath strayed Thus boisterous from its sport with mountain stream ; This, air the mountain daisy joyfiil breathes Expanding its fair breast. Down in the vale And by the brooks thousands of bright coquettes, AU in their richest green and blue and gold And crimson garbs attired, shall toss their heads, Sir, in this very breeze. Oh, fragrant breeze ! See, yonder the white butterfly extends His brilUant wing, nor suUies it's fair hue ; 146 And yonder hums the drowsy bee and gives The odours of her rich load joyfully, Because she loves it too, this merl-y breeze — The sheep and cattle from the pastures rise And cease their quiet task and stretch their necks And snuff it eagerly — this gentle breeze. Lo ! how the woods are stirred. Nature's own woods, Just as she planted them, not ruled and squared And drilled and set in lines, and lopped, and made Top-heavy — like a regiment of guards Drawn up i'th park — why Sir, I say, this breeze Couldn't learn to go in lines— this breeze can creep. It loves to creep among the underwood, To squeeze itself through thickest copses — ^where The riv'let glides concealed — to find it out ; Then, with a gleeful rustle to burst forth And rush among the tops of tallest oalis. And shake them mightily — then up to Heaven Bearing the fleecy clouds along — sir, sir, — Tou can't tell where it goes. — Force this in lines ! 147 List ye how gaily from the village spire It bears the merry peal — not deadened — duU — But clear and silvery — wringing, swelling out — I love to hear that sound — I love to hear The thrush and blackbird carol from the bough, The rippling of the shining stream — wind-stirred, The bleating sheep — the lowing of the kiae ; — I love to see the swallow wheeling quick Above the fr-esh-mown meadow when the wiad Is tumbling down the hay-cocks as I used. In my own play-time — ^this is what I love. Now Sir, I ask you one thing — Would this breeze, Think you, go sneaking through your streets and courts. And round house comers— aU six stories high ? Or stir a river after paddle wheels ? Or go and get a chUl, ascetic feel In "Westminster's old Abbey— or St. Paul's. Would it go Kve, railed up in squares, d'ye think ? It's not this kiad of air that you find squeezed And cramped 'mong 'busses at your Charing Cross, 148 Or, fairly moidered with your cries and shouts, Puzzled what sort of noise to carry first So misiag aU together. I think not ! This comes not putrid from some million lungs Out of aU vilest places — ^fuming up, Stinking from stew kitchens and eating shops, Fried, broiled, steamed, rpasted — ^bumt to death with gas ; Becking from crowded theatres and halls Crammed with perspiring wretches — operas, — But now I think on't, there are far worse lots Than to bear G-risi's and Alboni's tones And the rich harmonies so softly rolled From the filll orchestra — ^but even this Can't makes amends for being stewed and prisoned And glad to 'scape up chimnies, everywhere. Have not I lived to breathe some sort of mess Cooked in this very way — puffed from the lungs Of Locomotives and of ferry-boats ; G-ot up by servant maids shaking door mats ; Brought from long alleys — ^besomed out of mews, 149 Ground small and then well beaten up with dust By crossing sweepers and by wheels of cabs ; (To make it go a little further perhaps, For nought escapes adulteration now.) Hare not I had it serred up, piping hot ? Oh ! I could feel my spirit growing faint, Sullied and duU and shriyeUed and smoke dried And dark and mouldy, and I said : This plant Loves not your frames, your sills, your hot-houses. Loves not this Brick-kiln — let us therefore flee ! 'lEIT ®r FIBE. A OHEISTMAS aOBLIN TALE. 'Twaa one winter's night ; By the flickering light Alone I gazed, With a wUd delight, On the changeful sight. Of the scenes so bright,- As the faggots blazed. Then a sprite upsprung ! A gay glance he flving, As I sat amazed ; Joy around him hung, And these strains he sung,- WUdly they rung, — As the faggots blazed. 151 (SPIRIT) I'm the Monarcli of riame— I'm a child of the Sun, The world is my kingdom — ^the skies are my throne ; With my glittering sceptre far flashing on high, Oh ! a glorious, powerful Sovereign am I ! I roam through my realms and I visit each spot, Am a guest at the palace, the mansion, the cot ; Through every country and nation I fly — Oh ! the greatest, the mightiest of travellers am I. I've traversed the Ocean. I love the bright deep, The billow's dread growl and the wind's circling sweep ; I bound with stem joy and the storm I defy, — Oh ! a brave, reckless, dread-nothing *over am I. Yet I love the soft hour when the waves are at peace. An d the coy vessel yields to the Zephyr's warm kiss. An d the seamen in tales of the marvellous vie, — Oh ! a right merry, light-hearted comrade am I. 162 Then comes the sad silence — I rivet each gaze, And whisper loved tales of their earlier days To each heart, — ^till the tear dims the listening eye, — Oh ! the first of aU yam spinning messmates am I. To the North, to the South, where the frost and the snow So boldly resist my proud empire, I go ; To the poor quaking mortal a faithful ally ; Oh ! the best bosom friend iu creation am I. I have danced on the funeral pyres of the East, And the tail "Western piaes too have furnished my feast, I have poured my red rage in the Indian's eye, — Oh ! a ruthless, a terrible warrior am I. But I love the kind hearth of a Briton to cheer "When the ivy crowned Bacchus delights the grey year, "When every true heart presses lovingly nigh, — Oh ! a generous, warm-hearted fellow am I. 153 When the favourite chair in its open embrace EeceiTes the old sire with the love-beaming face, And he gazes on me for a clue to his joy, — Such a generous, warm-hearted feUow am I. — Dear to me each white hair that, like winter's pure snow, Keeps the unconquered heart but the warmer below, And preserves it to flourish again bright and high, In an undying spring — 'neath an unchanging'sky. "When making a steed of their Grandfather's knee. The young urchins cluster and clamber in glee, And the parents delightedly watchful, stand-by ; Oh ! then, what a happy spectator am I. To the Feast. For the rich spiced ale foaming is poinded. And the roast beef and plum pudding smoke on the board; And for me there's the yule-log aU meUow and dry, And none is more proud or more happy than I. 1S4 The feast is completed — and now for tte baJl The music rings merrily through the old haU ; And the young and the old ia agility vie, But no one more merrily dances than I. Away speed the hours. There are faces would shame The rich rosy cheek of the Mom if she came, "With her soft golden locks and her bright dewy eye, — They put me to the blush — such an old spark as I. I hear the strain dying — I see the lamps fade — I feel my own vigour and freshness decayed — Oh sorrow! that moments of love and of joy Must aid but to bring the dread parting more nigh. I love the warm kiss between lips more than dear, Andthe smile feebly forced through joy'siU suppressedteat, And the low, unregretful, nay more, grateM sigh : — What a soft-heajH;ed, foolish old fellow am I. 155 Very feeble he grew — Paler to view — Ding, ding, dong ! The wild wind flew And a low crackle blew Like a death rattle through- Ding, ding, dong ! ' Twas the midnight bell ; And it broke the spell — A deep gloom spread ! It were dread to teU, "What a chin damp" fell O'er my lonely cell — As the Spirit fled. Oh ! I love the bright, the golden shore — The gUttering spray and the breakers' roar, Of the wide, unbounded Sea : But the grassy bank of yon murmuring stream. And it's sparkling flash in the warm sunbeam Are dearer far to me. Tes ! the spirit bounds with wild delight, When the ocean roUs in fearful might, But those gentle streams repose impart, Calm as their own to the troubled heart. And noble too are the pathless woods. Frowning so dark o'er the sounding floods Of some river rolling free : But yon scattered shrubs ttat so stunted grow And cast a cool shade on the brook below Are lovelier far to me. 1S7 And 'tis sweet to hear the wild bird's song As it thrills the majestic oaks among, But far more sweet do the echoes float Of the tamer robin's warbUng note. I have wandered to many a distant strand Tet stiU my heart from each fairer land To this valley turned again : 'Far this loved retreat has a stronger speU — Bright tales of my childhood each spot can tell, It is my native Q-len. How many a name aJmoBt forgot. The ivied walls of yon ruined cot Recall to mind — how many a scene Of joy, that around it's hearth has been. Surrounded by companions true, No desire beyond this vale I knew, — Oh ! calm my spirit then ! 158 To me tliere was not in tlie whole wide earth One spot so fair as the land of my birth, My home, my native G-len. But now the friends of my youth are gone, And those happy days are loiig since flown, And I — but a little more delay. And then I too shall have passed away. I mourn not the days for ever fled, I mourn not the friends of chUdhood dead, From a world of trial sent ; I mourn not myself, for full well I know The greatest blessiags enjoyed below Are Patience and Content. And not to childhood alone confined Are the joyous heart, the tranquil mind ; Ea«h stage of life has its duties still, — The happy, — ^they who their part fiilfil THE mkW W iilTiE mil. (bbom "the old ottbiositt shop.") The gentle robins seek the graye, Eustling the yellow leaves among ; They seek the food her pity gave, And wake no more the grateful song ; Hark! hark! what voices praises hymn ? Bright Cherubim and Seraphim I And there her young- companion creeps To strew sad garlands o'er her head, With sweUing, bursting heart. He weeps And sinks on her snow-covered bed. A bright form by his brother's smiled. And loving spirits watched the chUd. 160 There too the old man daily crawls, With feeble, intermitting step, And waits, and watches there, and calls, Unheard, where aU so soundly sleep. He comes there with the early mom — With night reluctant his return. Where is the little hand that led. The little voice that urged him on. That could beguile his weary tread And cheer him when the task .was done ? " Hush ! were those steps amid the gloom ?- " Well ! well ! to-morrow she will come. " Another and another day — And lo ! she comes — she beckons — see ! Again to brighter scenes — away — " Yes, yes, NeU, I will foUow thee ! " He passed ! The cold white head lay low. — G-one now the wintry frost and snow. At early morn, upon the mountain-brow I "Watching the changeM landscape, as the clouds EoU darkly, swiftly up the distant verge, And sweep oonfesedly the Heavens erewhUe So bright and clear — and gather o'er my head. And these too have their voice. ' Tis dear to me- Because the skies are aU of Childhood's home. That (ever changing)' remains stiU unchanged : And all the years seem written there, and speak To Memory's ear, with accents gentle oft, And oft-times stem — ^recounting darkest thiags— But still they speak in love, — and stiU they warn. 162 And will not let us slumber, nor forget ; And strive unwearying — Surely, surely they "WTio with a deep'ning and abiding love Earnestly listen, cannot greatly fall ! Oh ! for the starry eve — ^the cloudless eve, "With aU. its glorious promise ! Now, methinks, Ton driving storms that have so foully changed The joyous face of mom, too plainly tell Of Passion's boisterous sway — ^Nay — ^more than this — There is a glorious lesson — ^look again ! Mark you, through yonder gap the changeless sky, In lofby grandeur o'er the darksome hour "Watches serenely, with a gaze as deep, And bright and earnest as the years, when first The young heart yearned for love, and fondly sought, And knew not what it asked. We live and learn — We darkly live — and terribly we learn ! To know were something — ^but we ever stray. I saw one groping through the noonday streets "With upturned face and eye-ball glaring white 163 And palm that sought the wall and outstretched staff Trying each several step-»*-aiid all the while The crowd swept eddying by—- and many there Strode hurriedly and had an anxious look, A careworn cheek, a black aad furrowed brow, A lip compressed, a deep and vacant eye That never rose to Heaven— with staff less sure Though with a wider range, these felt their path And fearfiiUy they groped their noon of Life. Then as I turned from the blind man to these, I asked if it were better thus to see 1 But lo ! from the rent clouds how brightly flow How gently glide the rich lights o'er the scene — And first upon the topmost heights they fiall^ And soften their stem nature— kindling up Each gloomy crag an instant— piercing through The inmost depth of the broad fir-tree cOpse And gilding the red branches— ddwuwapd then Over the purple slopes, where the heath spreads Its soft couch temptingly— a little space 164 Pressing it lightly — ^then to the green vales ; Cheerily rousing up the village swains "With a quiet, glad " Good morrow ! " — On the spire, The little village Church, the mossy graves, Lingering like Hope — and so to the green vales ; Making the dew-drop on each leaf and flower, On every blade of grass sparkle so bright That 'tis no wonder Nature deeply hides Her precious stones, having such gems as these. Threading the steep woods downward to the vale. — Over the many coloured fields where wave The thick crops heavily, and the ripe ears So a ilTrily , so gently, that they have Some deep, mesmeric influence on the sense That brings it's trance of joy and mystic power To the glad spirit for a while to flee, Ajid through the Universe to roam at will ! A-down the golden stems, the soft lights glide. To seek the yellow pansies and make glad The courtier pimpernel, with jealous eye 165 Watching his monarch's smile. Away — away ! To meet the winding stream at every turn And pounce on it with such a brilliant smile — It startles the old woods, the sober woods, That shake their heads so gravely. Now 'tis gone And climbing once again — and oft it eUmbs And oft descends till not a peak nor cliff So black and rugged, not a vale so dark But it hath known it's moment of delight — Tea ! Heaven hath smiles for all. 9^£S>^ The noiseless motion of a lip, The quivering of an eye, The rapid fluttering of the heari;. The heaving of a sigh ; The clammy pressure of a hand. The half-shed, glistening tear : The momentary thriU of hope, The quick return of fear ; The trembhng Up, the tearful smile — The pang that none may teU : — The hurried utterance of the words " Good bye — &ood bye — Farewell ! " n Prom Lis lips such strains had gushed, ' Neath his touch such wild streams rushed, All the human crowd was hushed — Proudly ev'ry cheek had flushed ! Ev'ry eye. was lit ! But the Minstrel's hand was stayed— In his glance, that wildly strayed. Such a glow of triumph played, None could fathom it ! For they knew not, round him were Spirits of Earth and Sea and Air, Lingering 'trancedly to hear ; — (That strange harmony did bear Such a mighty spell ; 168 Through their secret caves it sought them, In its subtle meshes caught them, From their sounding caves it brought them,- Each one from his cell.) — Lingering tiU the strains expire. Then they answered — all the Oboir That to Nature's living lyre Tune their voices — " We have higher Language of our own ; Pure it is from earthly leaven — G-enius such as thine, by Heaven, Por the Universe was given, Not for Man alone — " We have language all divine. Ever in glad hymns we join. But oior skUl has failed to twine Harmonies so rich as thine, And we crave a boon — 169 All thy wond'rouB .Art employ ; Weave us some bright melody Pit to fill our halls of joy ; , , ' : Weave us such an one ! " Then he seized his haarp and slowly Woke the soft tones murmuring lowly In a cadence melancholy ; Yet a bliss most deep and holy Seemed to tremble there — Bxit soon an Angel Melody, Dipping its bright vring from the sky, Came fluttering through that symphony- A thing too pure and fair Seemed it, on approaching nigher, There to mingle and expire — And anon it would retire, Mounting proudly, higher, higher — Till those chords upstart. 170 As one fond farewell to take ; Then the Spirit, glancing back, "Would pause upon its heavenly track, — Then, it could not part ! ' Such a wond'rous thing, that song, So unearthly, seemed ! — Ere long An enthusiastic throng, From that listening host among. Softly though at first Caught it up, till each, could find His appropriate part assigned, And from that strange maze unwind — Then, forth the Chorus burst. Fast it spread from side to side, And was echoed far and wide O'er the earth and o'er the tide, Nor iu Ocean caves it died, There it lingers still — 171 And it ceased not in its pride Through the world's far bounds to glide Till the distant Spheres replied, "With a mighty thrill ! And often in the starry hour, When the world's rude clash is o'er, May'st thou hear the soft winds pour Those deep murmurs forth once more Whil'st that voice love-fraught. From among the shining train Bursting, answers them again In the unforgotten strain Which the Minstrel taught. By the streamlet's murinuring flood. Bounding on in changeful mood. Do the lingering echoes 'brood, — Often in the summer wood, ' Mong the rustling leaves 172 And the branches gently stirred, That low symphony is heard, Whilst that song some heavenly hird TremhUngly re- weaves. 'Ever on the lonely shore, "With a deep, monotonous roar, (Eich their voice and fiiU of power) The glad waves hum it o'er and o'er ; Syren voices blend ; In the well-known strain replying, — Proudly swelling, softly sighing, Calmly rising, all undying, Heavenward they ascend. Such the Music which He taught ! "Wordless ! quoth'a ? Heard'st thou not How They aaswered ? — ^hast forgot ? " Higher language ! " — aye, I wot, Though thou can'st not tell 173 What the Spirits' worehip is, — AH their love aad all their bliss,- He who gave it voice like this Understood fuU well ! " But wherefore didst thou sing ? " He asked— for we "Were seated by the stream, beneath the oak, In the still Autumn evening, and the fields "Were white unto the Harvest — the long task "Was almost ended — ^from the yellow flowers And from the thistle, now, the silver locks Had fallen, — and the year was very old. O'er many a gentle face, most beautiful. Lingered the last tiats, loveliest, of Decay ; And though we were so stiU, yet ia that hour He knew at length what Nature was to me, How little his proud world. " Then wherefore sing ? " I said, " Nay, rather, wherefore do the woods, "When the fresh gush of Spring is in their veins, Burst forth in gladness ? "Wherefore do the birds, 175 "WTien the first pulse of loTe is throbbing high, Uplift their grateful voices unrestrained ? Why glow the Heavens when bounds the rosy Mom ? Why do the lakes those gorgeous hues reflect ? Why do the torrents sparkle to the flash Of the first Day-beam ? — Will ye ask me why ? But come " — I added sadly, for the words Bore a deep meaning and there was a cause : " Now the bright sun is down — aad all the scene Is changed and dark — ^how chilly grows the wind ! 'Tis time that we were gone." Then we arose And bade " Farewell " — ^taking our several ways — And he — a merry and a careless thing — Sought his gay haunts— but I turned towards the Night. #111:0. .T»rt "^ 1 F 1, •»' f S ". • I." .. 1 mi £?' »«.'■ -ifc' -1,1 -.ir,* . .. I?*. ■ •• ~ -./- - 4 „ -i • . .., - N