Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, On some fond breast the parting soul relies, For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead, If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, "There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. "One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill, Along the heath, and near his favorite tree; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. "The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the churchway path I saw him borne: Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone, beneath yon aged thorn." THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere ; He gave to Misery all he had a tear; He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode Where they alike in trembling hope repose, The bosom of his Father and his God. KUBLA KHAN. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERidge. IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round, And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills But oh! that chasm deep which slanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, The shadow of the dome of pleasure Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the cave. It was a miracle of rare device A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Could I revive within me To such deep delight 'twould win me, I would build that dome in air, ON HIS FRIENDS. MESKIN ALDARAMY. TRANSLATION OF JOHN D. CARLYLE. WITH Conscious pride I view the band Of faithful friends that round me stand, With pride exult that I, alone Can join these scattered gems in one; For they're a wreath of pearls, and I 'Tis mine their inmost souls to see! LETTER TO LORD CHESTERFIELD. SAMUEL JOHNSON. To the Right Honorable, The Earl of Chesterfield. MY LORD: I have been lately informed by the proprietor of "The World" that two papers in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public, were written by your lordship. To be so To be so distinguished is an honor which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I was overpowered like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself "le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre";-that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. |