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SPIRIT OF WISDOM AND OF LOVE.
O BROODING Spirit of Wisdom and of Love,
Whose mighty wings even now o'ershadow me:
Absorb me in thine own immensity,
And raise me far my finite self above !
Purge vanity away and the weak care
That name or fame of me should widely spread ;
And the deep wish keep burning in their stead
Thy blissful influence afar to bear,
Or see it borne ! Let no desire of ease,
No lack of courage, faith, or love, delay
My own steps in that high thought-paven way,
In which my soul her clear commission sees :
Yet with an equal joy let me behold
Thy chariot o'er that way by others roll’d.
ARISE up, England, from the smoky cloud
That covers thee, the din of whirling wheels :
Not the pale spinner, prematurely bowed
By his hot toil, alone the influence feels
Of all this deep necessity for gain :
Gain still : but deem not only by the strain
Of engines on the sea and on the shore,
Glory, that was thy birthright, to retain.
Oh thou that knewest not a conqueror,
Unchecked desires have multiplied in thee,
Till with their bat-wings they shut out the sun :
So in the dusk thou goest moodily,
With a bent head, as one who gropes for ore,
Heedless of living streams that round him run,
TO THE FOUNTAIN AT FRASCATI.
Not by Aldobrandini's watery show,
Still plashing at his portal never dumb
Minished of my devotion, shalt thou come,
Leaving thy natural fount on Algido,
Wild winged daughter of the Sabine snow;
Now creeping under quiet Tusculum ;
Now gushing from those caverns old and numb;Dull were his heart who gazed upon thee so. Emblem thou art of Time, memorial stream,
Which in ten thousand fancies, being here, We waste, or use, or fashion, as we deem ;
But if its backward voice comes ever near, As thine upon the hill, how doth it seem
Solemn and stern, sepulchral and severe !
THERE's not a dog nor note of any bird,
Nor shepherd's laugh, nor echo's lightest tones,
Only the lizard on the giant stones
Moves in Mycenæ,-moves, for this vain word
Affrights him from his wont, where lies interred
The treasures of Agamemnon ; aye, the bones
Perchance, then Greece, in him of all her thrones The leader, when in Aulis there was heard The gathering after Helen, and the wind Sighing among the congregated shrouds,
The waves, the songs, the augurs on the shore. O solitude far deeper than the clouds', For voices in their dwellings ye may find ;
Here is the sun and shadow, and no more !
"PATER VESTER PASCIT ILLA."
OUR bark is on the waters ! wide around
The wandering wave; above, the lonely sky :
Hush ! a young sea-bird floats, and that quick cry
Shrieks to the levelled weapon's echoing sound :
Grasp its lank wing, and on, with reckless bound !
Yet, creature of the surf, a sheltering breast
To-night shall haunt in vain thy far-off nest,
A call unanswered search the rocky ground.
Lord of Leviathan ! when Ocean heard
Thy gathering voice, and sought his native breeze ;
When whales first plunged with life, and the proud deep
Felt unborn tempests heave in troubled sleep,
Thou didst provide, even for this nameless bird,
Home and a natural lɔve amid the surging seas.