And o'er the infernal regions void of day.
On thy third reign look down; disclose our fate,
In what new station shall we fix our seat?
When shall we next thy hallowed altars raise,
And choirs of virgins celebrate thy praise?

A PARAPHRASE.

(ON THOMAS À KEMPIS, 1. iii. c. 2.)
Done by the Author at Twelve Years old.1

SPEAK, gracious Lord, oh, speak;
Thy servant hears:

For I'm Thy servant and I'll still

be so:

Speak words of comfort in my willing ears; And since my tongue is in Thy praises slow, And since that Thine all rhetoric exceeds; Speak Thou in words, but let me speak in deeds!

Nor speak alone, but give me grace to hear What Thy celestial sweetness does impart; Let it not stop when entered at the ear,

But sink and take deep rooting in my heart. As the parched earth drinks rain (but grace afford)

With such a gust will I receive Thy word.

Nor with the Israelites shall I desire

Thy heavenly word by Moses to receive, Lest I should die: but Thou who didst inspire Moses himself, speak Thou, that I may live.

First published from the Caryll Papers, in the Athenæum, July 15, 1854.

Rather with Samuel I beseech with tears, Speak, gracious Lord, oh, speak, Thy servant

hears.

Moses, indeed, may say the words, but Thou
Must give the spirit and the life inspire
Our love to Thee his fervent breath may blow,
But 'tis Thyself alone can give the fire:
Thou without them may'st speak and profit too;
But without Thee what could the prophets do?

They preach the doctrine, but Thou mak'st us do't;

They teach the mysteries Thou dost open lay; The trees they water, but Thou giv'st the fruit; They to salvation show the arduous way, But none but You can give us strength to walk; You give the practice, they but give the talk.

Let them be silent then; and Thou alone,
My God! speak comfort to my ravished ears;
Light of my eyes, my consolation,

Speak when Thou wilt, for still Thy servant hears.

Whate'er Thou speak'st, let this be understood: Thy greater glory, and my greater good!

OCCASIONED BY READING THE TRAVELS OF CAPTAIN LEMUEL GULLIVER.

I.

TO QUINBUS FLESTRIN, THE MANMOUNTAIN.

AN ODE BY TILLY-TIT, POET LAUREATE TO HIS MAJESTY OF LILLIPUT.

Translated into English.

N amaze,
Lost, I gaze,

Can our eyes

Reach thy size?

May my lays

Swell with praise,

Worthy thee!
Worthy me!
Muse, inspire,
All thy fire!
Bards of old
Of him told,

When they said

Atlas' head

Propped the skies :

See! and believe your eyes!

See him stride

Valleys wide,

Over woods

Over floods!

When he treads,
Mountains' heads
Groan and shake:

Armies quake:

Let his

spurn

Overturn

Man and steed:
Troops take heed!
Left and right,
Speed your flight!

Lest an host

Beneath his foot be lost.

Turned aside,

From his hide,
Safe from wound,
Darts rebound.
From his nose

Clouds he blows:

When he speaks,
Thunder breaks!

When he eats,
Famine threats!
When he drinks,
Neptune shrinks!
Nigh thy ear,
In mid air,

On thy hand,

Let me stand;

So shall I,

Lofty Poet, touch the sky.

II.

THE LAMENTATION OF GLUMDALCLITCH FOR THE LOSS OF GRILDRIG.

A PASTORAL.

OON as Glum dalclitch missed her pleasing care,

She wept, she blubbered, and she tore her hair.

No British miss sincerer grief has known,

Her squirrel missing, or her sparrow flown. She furled her sampler, and hauled in her thread,

And stuck her needle into Grildrig's bed;
Then spread her hands, and with a bounce let
fall

Her baby, like the giant in Guildhall.
In peals of thunder now she roars, and now
She gently whimpers like a lowing cow:
Yet lovely in her sorrow still appears,

Her locks dishevelled, and her flood of tears
Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain,
When from the thatch drips fast a shower of
rain.

In vain she searched each cranny of the

house,

Each gaping chink impervious to a mouse.
"Was it for this (she cried) with daily care
Within thy reach I set the vinegar!
And filled the cruet with the acid tide,
While pepper-water worms thy bait supplied;
Where twined the silver eel around thy hook,
And all the little monsters of the brook.
Sure in that lake he dropped; my Grilly's
drowned."

She dragged the cruet, but no Grildrig found.
"Vain is thy courage, Grilly, vain thy boast;
But little creatures enterprise the most.
Trembling, I've seen thee dare the kitten's paw,
Nay, mix with children, as they played at taw,
Nor fear the marbles, as they bounding flew;
Marbles to them, but rolling rocks to you.

"Why did I trust thee with that giddy youth? Who from a page can ever learn the truth? Versed in Court tricks, that money-loving boy To some lord's daughter sold the living toy; Or rent him limb from limb in cruel play,