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Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven !-Oh! times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance !
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,
When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress—to assist the work,
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,
The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(As at some moment might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of paradise itself)
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,—who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;-they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;
Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their heart's desire,
And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish;
Were called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where !
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!

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* Supreme of Heroes-bravest, noblest, best !
Thy matchless courage I bewail no more,
Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest
By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore;
Thou found'st--and I forgive thee--here thou art-
A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

But if thou goest, I follow ” “Peace!” he said, She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered; The ghastly colour from his lips had fled ;

In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared | Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.

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But should suspense permit the Foe to cry,

Behold they tremble !-haughty their array, Yet of their number no one dares to die?' In soul I swept the indignity away : Old frailties then recurred :—but lofty thought, In act embodied, my deliverance wrought.

* For the account of these long-lived trees, se Natural History, lib. xvi. cap. 44. ; and for the lo the character of Protesilaus see the Iphigenia :) Euripides. Virgil places the Shade of Landet mournful region, among unhappy Lovers,

His Laodamia
It Comes. -

XXXII.

Mourn, and lament for him whose spirit dreads
Your once sweet memory, studious walks and

shades!
DION.

For him who to divinity aspired, (SEE PLUTARCH).

Not on the breath of popular applause,

But through dependence on the sacred laws SERENE, and fitted to embrace,

Framed in the schools where Wisdom dwelt retired, Where'er he turned, a swan-like grace

Intent to trace the ideal path of right Of haughtiness without pretence,

(More fair than heaven's broad causeway paved And to unfold a still magnificence,

with stars) Was princely Dion, in the power

Which Dion learned to measure with sublime And beauty of his happier hour.

delight;, And what pure homage then did wait

But He hath overleaped the eternal bars ; On Dion's virtues, while the lunar beam

And, following guides whose craft holds no consent Of Plato's genius, from its lofty sphere,

With aught that breathes the ethereal element, Fell round him in the grove of Academe,

Hath stained the robes of civil power with blood, Softening their inbred dignity austere

Unjustly shed, though for the public good. That he, not too elate

Whence doubts that came too late, and wishes vain, With self-sufficing solitude,

Hollow excuses, and triumphant pain ; But with majestic lowliness endued,

And oft his cogitations sink as low Might in the universal bosom reign,

As, through the abysses of a joyless heart, And from affectionate observance gain

The heaviest plummet of despair can goHelp, under every change of adverse fate.

But whence that sudden check? that fearful start!

He hears an uncouth sound

Anon his lifted eyes
Five thousand warriors-0 the rapturous day! Saw, at a long-drawn gallery's dusky bound,
Each crowned with flowers, and armed with spear A Shape of more than mortal size
and shield,

And hideous aspect, stalking round and round !
Or ruder weapon which their course might yield, A woman's garb the Phantom wore,
To Syracuse advance in bright array.

And fiercely swept the marble floor,Who leads them on?—The anxious people see

Like Auster whirling to and fro, Long-exiled Dion marching at their head,

His force on Caspian foam to try; He also crowned with flowers of Sicily,

Or Boreas when he scours the snow
And in a white, far-beaming, corslet clad !

That skins the plains of Thessaly,
Pure transport undisturbed by doubt or fear Or when aloft on Mænalus he stops
The gazers feel; and, rushing to the plain, His flight, 'mid eddying pine-tree tops !
Salute those strangers as a holy train
Or blest procession (to the Immortals dear)
That brought their precious liberty again.
Lo! when the gates are entered, on each hand,
Down the long street, rich goblets filled with wine So, but from toil less sign of profit reaping,
In seemly order stand,

The sullen Spectre to her purpose bowed,
On tables set, as if for rites divine ;-

Sweeping-vehemently sweepingAnd, as the great Deliverer marches by,

No pause admitted, no design avowed ! He looks on festal ground with fruits bestrown; “ Avaunt, inexplicable Guest !_avaunt,"' And flowers are on his person thrown

Exclaimed the Chieftain—“let me rather see In boundless prodigality;

The coronal that coiling vipers make; Nor doth the general voice abstain from prayer, The torch that flames with many a lurid flake, Lovoking Dion's tutelary care,

And the long train of doleful pageantry
As if a very Deity he were!

Which they behold, whom vengeful Furies haunt;
Who, while they struggle from the scourge to flee,

Move where the blasted soil is not unworn,
Mourn, hills and groves of Attica! and mourn And, in their anguish, bear what other minds have
Ilissus, bending o'er thy classic urn!

borne !"

But Shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Will not depart when mortal voices bid;
Lords of the visionary eye whose lid,
Once raised, remains aghast, and will not fall!
Ye Gods, thought He, that servile Implement
Obeys a mystical intent!
Your Minister would brush away
The spots that to my soul adhere;
But should she labour night and day,
They will not, cannot disappear;
Whence angry perturbations, and that look
Which no Philosophy can brook!

Mockery-or model roughly hewn,
And left as if by earthquake strewn,
Or from the Flood escaped :
Altars for Druid service fit ;
(But where no fire was ever lit,
Unless the glow-worm to the skies
Thence offer nightly sacrifice)
Wrinkled Egyptian monument;
Green moss-grown tower ; or hoary tent ;
Tents of a camp that never shall be raised
On which four thousand years have gazed!

VI.

Ill-fated Chief! there are whose hopes are built
Upon the ruins of thy glorious name;
Who, through the portal of one moment's guilt,
Pursue thee with their deadly aim !
O matchless perfidy! portentous lust
Of monstrous crime !--that horror-striking blade,
Drawn in defiance of the Gods, hath laid
The noble Syracusan low in dust!
Shudder'd the walls—the marble city wept-
And sylvan places heaved a pensive sigh ;
But in calm peace the appointed Victim slept,
As he had fallen in magnanimity ;
Of spirit too capacious to require
That Destiny her course should change; too just
To his own native greatness to desire
That wretched boon, days lengthened by mistrust.
So were the hopeless troubles, that involved
The soul of Dion, instantly dissolved.
Released from life and cares of princely state,
He left this moral grafted on his Fate;
• Him only pleasure leads, and peace attends,
Him, only him, the shield of Jove defends,
Whose means are fair and spotless as his ends.'

1816.

1. Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes! Ye snow-white lambs that trip Imprisoned ’mid the formal props Of restless ownership! Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall To feed the insatiate Prodigal ! Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and fields, All that the fertile valley shields ; Wages of folly-baits of crime, Of life's uneasy game the stake, Playthings that keep the eyes awake Of drowsy, dotard Time ;O care ! O guilt !-0 vales and plains, Here, 'mid his own unvexed domains, A Genius dwells, that can subdue At once all memory of You,Most potent when mists veil the sky, Mists that distort and magnify; While the coarse rushes, to the sweeping Sigh forth their ancient melodies !

XXXIII. THE PASS OF KIRKSTONE.

List to those shriller notes !--that march
Perchance was on the blast,
When, through this Height's inverted girl
Rome's earliest legion passed !
- They saw, adventurously impelled,
And older eyes than theirs beheld,
This block-and yon, whose church-like 3*-|
Gives to this savage Pass its name.
Aspiring Road ! that lov'st to hide
Thy daring in a vapoury bourn,
Not seldom may the hour return
When thou shalt be my guide :
And I (as all men may find cause,
When life is at a weary pause,
And they have panted up the hill
Of duty with reluctant will)
Be thankful, even though tired and fair"
For the rich bounties of constraint ;
Whence oft invigorating transports flos
That choice lacked courage to bestow!

WITHIN the mind strong fancies work,
A deep delight the bosom thrills,
Oft as I pass along the fork
Of these fraternal hills :
Where, save the rugged road, we find
No appanage of human kind,
Nor hint of man ; if stone or rock
Seem not his handy-work to mock
By something cognizably shaped ;

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