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And armed with living spear for mortal fight;
A cunning forager That spreads no waste; a social builder; one In whom all busy offices unite With all fine functions that afford delightSafe through the winter storm in quiet dwells !
Though all that feeds on nether air,
Amid the unfathomable deeps;
From dread of emptiness or dearth.
And is She brought within the power Of vision ?-o'er this tempting flower Hovering until the petals stay Her flight, and take its voice away !Observe each wing !-a tiny van! The structure of her laden thigh, How fragile ! yet of ancestry Mysteriously remote and high; High as the imperial front of man; The roseate bloom on woman's cheek; The soaring eagle's curvèd beak; The white plumes of the floating swan; Old as the tiger's paw, the lion's mane Ere shaken by that mood of stern disdain At which the desert trembles.--Humming Bee ! Thy sting was needless then, perchance unknown, The seeds of malice were not sown; All creatures met in peace, from fierceness free, And no pride blended with their dignity. -Tears had not broken from their source ; Nor Anguish strayed from her Tartarean den; The golden years maintained a course Not undiversified though smooth and even ; We were not mocked with glimpse and shadow then, Bright Seraphs mixed familiarly with men ; And earth and stars composed a universal heaven !
O, nursed at happy distance from the cares Of a too-anxious world, mild pastoral Muse! That, to the sparkling crown Urania wears, And to her sister Clio's laurel wreath, Prefer`st a garland culled from purple heath, Or blooming thicket moist with morning dews; Was such bright Spectacle vouchsafed to me? And was it granted to the simple ear Of thy contented Votary Such melody to hear! Him rather suits it, side by side with thee, Wrapped in a fit of pleasing indolence, While thy tired lute hangs on the hawthorn-tree, To lie and listen-till o'er-drowsèd sense Sinks, hardly conscious of the influenceTo the soft murmur of the vagrant Bee. -A slender sound! yet hoary Time Doth to the Soul exalt it with the chime Of all his years;-a company Of ages coming, ages gone; (Nations from before them sweeping, Regions in destruction steeping,) But every awful note in unison With that faint utterance, which tells Of treasure sucked from buds and bells, For the pure keeping of those waxen cells; Where She-a statist prudent to confer Upon the common weal; a warrior bold, Radiant all over with unburnished gold,
Not to the earth confined, Ascend to heaven.'
WHERE will they stop, those breathing Powers, The Spirits of the new-born flowers ? They wander with the breeze, they wind Where'er the streams a passage find ; Up from their native ground they rise In mute aërial harmonies ; From humble violet-modest thymeExhaled, the essential odours climb, As if no space below the sky Their subtle flight could satisfy : Heaven will not tax our thoughts with pride | If like ambition be their guide.
Roused by this kindliest of May-showers,
Till the whole air is overcharged ;
Where birds and brooks from leafy dells
Mount from the earth ; aspire ! aspire !
-Cast off your bonds, awake, arise,
THE CUCKOO-CLOCK. Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken
Alight, By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell, How far-off yet a glimpse of morning light, And if to lure the truant back be well, Forbear to covet a Repeater's stroke, That, answering to thy touch, will sound the hour; Better provide thee with a Cuckoo-clock For service hung behind thy chamber-door ; And in due time the soft spontaneous shock, The double note, as if with living power, Will to composure lead-or make thee blithe as
bird in bower.
Alas! the sanctities combined By art to unsensualise the mind, Decay and languish ; or, as creeds And humours change, are spurned like weeds : The priests are from their altars thrust; Temples are levelled with the dust; And solemn rites and awful forms Founder amid fanatic storms. Yet evermore, through years renewed In undisturbed vicissitude Of seasons balancing their flight On the swift wings of day and night, Kind Nature keeps a heavenly door Wide open for the scattered Poor. Where flower-breathed incense to the skies Is wafted in mute harmonies ; And ground fresh-cloven by the plough Is fragrant with a humbler vow;
| List, Cuckoo-Cuckoo !-oft tho' tempests howl,
And know-that, even for him who shuns the day
Possing your splendours high share the bends
Know-that, for him whose saking thoughts, severe
O bounty without measure! while the grace
TO THE CLOUDS. ARMT of Clouds! ye winged Host in troops Ascending from behind the motionless brow Of that tall rock, as from a hidden world, O whither with such eagerness of speed! What seek ye, or what shun ye! of the gale Companions, fear ye to be left behind, Or racing o'er your blue ethereal field Contend ye with each other! of the sea Children, thus post ye over vale and height To sink upon your mother's lap—and rest! Or were ye rightlier hailed, when first mine eyes Beheld in your impetuous march the likeness Of a wide army pressing on to meet Or overtake some unknown enemy! Bat your smooth motions suit a peaceful aim ; And Fancy, not less aptly pleased, compares Your squadrons to an endless flight of birds Aerial, upon due migration bound To milder climes; or rather do ye urge In caravan your hasty pilgrimage To pause at last on more aspiring heights Than these, and utter your devotion there With thunderous voice! Or are ye jubilant, And would ye, tracking your proud lord the Sun, Be present at his setting; or the pomp of Persian mornings would ye fill, and stand
Spest, silent creatures. They sre gone, are bed,
A humble walk
Scattered, a Cyclades of various shapes ! And all degrees of beauty. O ye Lightnings !
Ye are their perilous offspring; and the Sun- . A sense of seemingly presumptuous wrong
Gave the first impulse to the Poet's song;
And, with a spirit freed from discontent,
Not with God's bounty, Nature's love, to vie, Visions with all but beatific light
Or made with hope to please that inward eye Enriched-—too transient were they not renewed Which ever strives in vain itself to satisfy, From age to age, and did not, while we gaze But to recal the truth by some faint trace In silent rapture, credulous desire
Of power ethereal and celestial grace, Nourish the hope that memory lacks not power
That in the living Creature find on earth a place. To keep the treasure unimpaired. Vain thought ! Yet why repine, created as we are For joy and rest, albeit to find them only Lodged in the bosom of eternal things ?
GENIUS of Raphael ! if thy wings
Might bear thee to this glen,
To pencil dear and pen,
And all his majesty
O'er this poor family.
The Mother-her thou must have seen,
In spirit, ere she came
Or found on earth a name;
Thy inspirations give
Predestined here to live.
The gentlest Poet, with free thoughts endowed,
Downcast, or shooting glances far,
How beautiful his eyes,
With that of summer skies !
Uncounted months are gone,
That exquisite Saint John.
I see the dark brown curls, the brow,
The smooth transparent skin,
The holiness within ;
The grace of parting Infancy
By blushes yet untamed;
Nor of her arms ashamed.
Strict passage, through which sighs are brought,
Two lovely Sisters, still and sweet
As flowers, stand side by side ;
The Christian of his pride:
Upon them not forlorn,
Nor yet redeemed from scorn.
Mysterious safeguard, that, in spite
Of poverty and wrong,
From Hebrew fountains sprung;
Around the dell a gleam Of Palestine, of glory past,
And proud Jerusalem !
The headlong streams and fountains
Ye Voices, and ye Shadows in comununion with sounds, individual, or combined in And Images of voice-to hound and horn studied harmony.-Sources and effects of those sounds From rocky steep and rock-bestudded meadows (to the close of 6th Stanza).-The power of music,
Flung back, and, in the sky's blue caves, reborn--whence proceeding, exemplified in the idiot.--Origin of music, and its effect in early ages—how produced (to the
On with your pastime! till the church-tower bells middle of 10th Stanza).-The mind recalled to sounds A greeting give of measured glee; acting casually and severally.-Wish uttered (11th And milder echoes from their cells Stanza) that these could be united into a scheme or
Repeat the bridal symphony. system for moral interests and intellectual contemplation.-(Stanza 12th). The Pythagorean theory of
Then, or far earlier, let us rove numbers and music, with their supposed power over the Where mists are breaking up or gone, motions of the universe-imaginations consonant with And from aloft look down into a cove auch a theory.-Wish expressed (in 11th Stanza) realised,
Besprinkled with a careless quire, in some degree, by the representation of all sounds under the form of thanksgiving to the Creator.-(Last Stanza)
| Happy milk-maids, one by one the destruction of earth and the planetary system-the Scattering a ditty each to her desire, survival of audible harmony, and its support in the A liquid concert matchless by nice Art, Divine Nature, as revealed in Holy Writ.
A stream as if from one full heart.
Tay functions are ethereal,
Blest be the song that brightens