LET

Bright suns without a spot;

But thou art no such perfect thing:

Rejoice that thou art not!

Heed not tho' none should call thee fair;
So, Mary, let it be

If nought in loveliness compare

With what thou art to me.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats,

Whose veil is unremoved

Till heart with heart in concord beats,

And the lover is beloved.

1824.

T

The Wren 2

(FROM THE CONTRAST')

HIS moss-lined shed, green, soft, and dry,
Harbours a self-contented Wren,

Not shunning man's abode, though shy,
Almost as thought itself, of human ken.

Strange places, coverts unendeared,
She never tried; the very nest,

In which this Child of Spring was reared,

Is warmed, thro' winter, by her feathery breast.

To the bleak winds she sometimes gives

A slender unexpected strain ;

Proof that the hermitess still lives,

Though she appear not, and be sought in vain.

1825.

To a Skylark1

THEREAL minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!

ET

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye

Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;

A privacy of glorious light is thine;

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine;

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;

True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

1825.

The Skylark

STANZAS FROM 'A MORNING EXERCISE 2

AIL, blest above all kinds !-Supremely skilled
Restless with fixed to balance, high with low,
Thou leav'st the halcyon free her hopes to build
On such forbearance as the deep may show ;
Perpetual flight, unchecked by earthly ties,
Leav'st to the wandering bird of paradise.

Faithful, though swift as lightning, the meek dove Yet more hath Nature reconciled in thee;

So constant with thy downward eye of love,

Yet, in aërial singleness, so free;

So humble, yet so ready to rejoice

In power of wing and never-wearied voice.

To the last point of vision, and beyond, Mount, daring warbler!-that love-prompted strain ('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond) Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain : Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing All independent of the leafy spring.

How would it please old Ocean to partake, With sailors longing for a breeze in vain, The harmony thy notes most gladly make Where earth resembles most his own domain ! Urania's self might welcome with pleased ear These matins mounting towards her native sphere.

Chanter by heaven attracted, whom no bars To daylight known deter from that pursuit, 'Tis well that some sage instinct, when the stars Come forth at evening, keeps Thee still and mute; For not an eyelid could to sleep incline

Wert thou among them, singing as they shine!

1828.

S

The Sonnet1

CORN not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camöens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp,

It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land

To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand

The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains-alas, too few!

1827.

H

The Wishing-Gate1

OPE rules a land for ever green :

All powers that serve the bright-eyed Queen Are confident and

gay;

Clouds at her bidding disappear;

Points she to aught ?-the bliss draws near,
And Fancy smooths the way.

Not such the land of Wishes-there
Dwell fruitless day-dreams, lawless prayer,
And thoughts with things at strife;

Yet how forlorn, should ye depart,

Ye superstitions of the heart,

How poor, were human life!

When magic lore abjured its might,
Ye did not forfeit one dear right,
One tender claim abate;
Witness this symbol of your sway,
Surviving near the public way,
The rustic Wishing-gate!

Inquire not if the faery race
Shed kindly influence on the place,
Ere northward they retired;
If here a warrior left a spell,
Panting for glory as he fell ;
Or here a saint expired.

Enough that all around is fair,
Composed with Nature's finest care,
And in her fondest love-
Peace to embosom and content-
To overawe the turbulent,

The selfish to reprove.