"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.

"And thou, though strong in love, art all too weak

In reason, in self-government too slow;
I counsel thee by fortitude to seek
Our blest re-union in the shades below.
The invisible world with thee hath sympa-
thized;

Be thy affections raised and solemnized.

"Learn by a mortal yearning to ascend Towards a higher object. Love was given, Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end;

For this the passion to excess was driven, That self might be annulled-her bondage prove

The fetters of a dream, opposed to love."

Aloud she shrieked! for Hermes reappears. Round the dear shade she would have clung-'tis vain. [been years;

The hours are past-too brief had they And him no mortal effort can detain. Swift toward the realms that know not earthly day,

He through the portal takes his silent way, And on the palace floor a lifeless corse she lay.

By no weak pity might the gods be moved : She who thus perished, not without the crime

Of lovers that in reason's spite have loved, Was doomed to wander in a grosser clime, Apart from happy ghosts, that gather flowers

Of blissful quiet 'mid unfading bowers.

Yet tears to human suffering are due;
And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown
Are mourned by man, and not by man alone,
As fondly he believes.-Upon the side
Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)
A knot of spiry trees for ages grew

From out the tomb of him for whom she
died;
[gained

And ever, when such stature they had That Ilium's walls were subject to their view,

The trees' tall summits withered at the sight;

A constant interchange of growth and blight!

-::

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

1774-1843.

THE FUNERAL OF ARVALAN.

MIDNIGHT, and yet no eye

Thro' all the Imperial City closed in sleep! Behold her streets ablaze

With light that seems to kindle the red sky, Her myriads swarming thro' the crowded ways!

Master and slave, old age and infancy, All, all abroad to gaze;

House-top and balcony

Clustered with women, who threw back their veils,

With unimpeded and insatiate sight To view the funeral pomp which passes by, As if the mournful rite

Were but to them a scene of joyance and delight.

Vainly, ye blessed twinklers of the night, Your feeble beams ye shed,

Quenched in the unnatural light which might outstare

Even the broad eye of day;

And thou from thy celestial way Pourest, O Moon, an ineffectual ray! For lo ten thousand torches flame and

flare

Upon the midnight air, Blotting the lights of heaven

With the portentous glare.

Behold the fragrant smoke in many a fold
Ascending, floats along the fiery sky,
And hangeth visible on high,
A dark and waving canopy.

Hark! 'tis the funeral trumpet's breath! 'Tis the dirge of death!

At once ten thousand drums begin, With one long thunder-peal the ear assailing;

Ten thousand voices then join in,
And with one deep and general din
Pour their wild wailing.

The song of praise is drowned
Amid that deafening sound;

I CHARM thy life

From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,

From the serpent's tooth,
And the beasts of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,

Her fruits shall deny thee.
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,

And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee;
And thou shalt seek death
To release thee in vain.
Thou shalt live in thy pain
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart

And a fire in thy brain;
And sleep shall obey me,

And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
For ever and ever!

ENDURANCE OF THE CURSE.

OH, force of faith! oh, strength of virtuous will!

Behold him in his endless martyrdom,
Triumphant still!

The curse still burning in his heart and brain,

And yet he doth remain

Patient the while, and tranquil and content:
The pious soul hath framed unto itself
A second nature, to exist in pain
As in its own allotted element !

FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

IDLY, rajah, dost thou reason thus
Of destiny! for though all other things
Were subject to the starry influences,
And bowed submissive to thy tyranny,

The moon shines dim in the open air,
And not a moonbeam enters there.
But they without its light can see
The chamber carved so curiously,
Carved with figures strange and sweet,
All made out of the carver's brain,
For a lady's chamber meet:
The lamp with twofold silver chain
Is fastened to an angel's feet.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But Christabel the lamp will trim.

She trimmed the lamp and made it bright,
And left it swinging to and fro,
While Geraldine in wretched plight
Sank down upon the floor below.

Though thou her guardian spirit be, Off, woman, off! 'tis given to me."

Then Christabel knelt by the lady's side,
And raised to heaven her eyes so blue:
"Alas!" said she, "this ghastly ride-
Dear lady! it hath withered you!"
The lady wiped her moist cold brow,
And faintly said, "Tis over now!"

Again the wild-flower wine she drank :
Her fair large eyes 'gan glitter bright,
And from the floor whereon she sank
The lofty lady stood upright;
She was most beautiful to see,
Like a lady of a far countree.

And thus the lofty lady spake-
"All they who live in the upper sky,
Do love you, holy Christabel !
And you love them, and for their sake
And for the good which me befell,
Even I in my degree will try,
Fair maiden, to requite you well.
But now unrobe yourself; for I
Must pray, ere yet in bed I lie."

Quoth Christabei, "So let it be!" And as the lady bade, did she. Her gentle limbs did she undress, And lay down in her loveliness.

-0

A CHILD.

A LITTLE child, a limber elf,
Singing, dancing to itself,
A fairy thing with red round cheeks,
That always finds and never seeks,
Makes such a vision to the sight
As fills a father's eyes with light;
And pleasures flow in so thick and fast
Upon his heart, that he at last
Must needs express his love's excess
With words of unmeant bitterness.
Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together
Thoughts so unlike each other;
To mutter and mock a broken charm,
To dally with wrong that does no harm.
Perhaps 'tis tender too and pretty
At each wild word to feel within
A sweet recoil of love and pity.
And what, if in a world of sin
(Oh, sorrow and shame should this be
Such giddinesss of heart and brain
Comes seldom save from rage and pain,

So talks as it's most used to do.

[true!)

THE CALM.

THE fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free :

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky

The bloody Sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion, As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, everywhere,

And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout

The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were

Of the spirit that plagued us so: Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.

MOONLIGHT AND THE

BLESSING.

THE Moving Moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two besideHer beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway, A still and awful red.

CREATURES OF THE CALM. BEYOND the shadow of the ship

I watched the water-snakes;

They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire; Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare;
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

SLEEP AND THE WIND. OH, sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from heaven, That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,

That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke-it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.