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XVI. PorLock, thy verdant vale so fair to sight, Thy lofty hills which fern and furze embrown, The waters that roll musically down Thy woody glens, the traveller with delight Recalls to memory, and the channel grey Circling its surges in thy level bay. Porlock, I also shall forget thee not, Here by the unwelcome summer rain confined; But often shall hereafter call to mind How here, a patient prisoner, 't was my lot To wear the lonely, lingering close of day, Making my Sonnet by the alehouse fire, Whilst Idleness and Solitude inspire Dull rhymes to pass the duller hours away.

August 9. 1799.

XVII. STATELY yon vessel sails adown the tide, To some far distant land adventurous bound; The sailors' busy cries from side to side Pealing among the echoing rocks resound: A patient, thoughtless, much-enduring band, Joyful they enter on their ocean way, With shouts exulting leave their native land, And know no care beyond the present day. But is there no poor mourner left behind, Who sorrows for a child or husband there? Who at the howling of the midnight wind Will wake and tremble in her boding prayer? So may her voice be heard, and Heaven be kind! Go, gallant Ship, and be thy fortune fair !

Westbury, 1799.

up a silent

XVIII. O God! have mercy in this dreadful hour On the poor mariner! in comfort here Safe shelter'd as I am, I almost fear The blast that rages with resistless power. What were it now to toss upon the waves, The madden'd waves, and know no succour near; The howling of the storm alone to hear, And the wild sea that to the tempest raves ; To gaze amid the horrors of the night And only see the billow's gleaming light; Then in the dread of death to think of her Who, as she listens sleepless to the gale, Puts

prayer

and waxes pale?... O God I have mercy on the mariner i Westbury, 1799.

XIX. She comes majestic with her swelling sails, The gallant Ship; along her watery way Homeward she drives before the favouring gales ; Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze. Hark to the sailors' shouts! the rocks rebound, Thundering in echoes to the joyful sound. Long have they voyaged o'er the distant seas, And what a heart-delight they feel at last, So many toils, so many dangers past, To view the port desired, he only knows Who on the stormy deep for many a day Hath tost, aweary of his watery way, And watch'd, all anxious, every wind that blows. Westbury, 1799.

XX.

FAREWELL my home, my home no longer now,
Witness of many a calm and happy day ;
And thou fair eminence, upon whose brow
Dwells the last sunshine of the evening ray,
Farewell! These eyes no longer shall pursue
The western sun beyond the farthest height,
When slowly he forsakes the fields of light.
No more the freshness of the falling dew,
Cool and delightful, here shall bathe my head,
As from this western window dear, I lean,
Listening, the while I watch the placid scene,
The martins twittering underneath the shed.
Farewell, dear home! where many a day has past
In joys whose loved remembrance long shall last.

Westbury, 1799.

MONODRAMAS,

SAPPHO.

Scene, The Promontory of Leucadia.

This is the spot:.. 't is here tradition says
That hopeless Love from this high towering rock
Leaps headlong to oblivion or to Death.
Oh, 't is a giddy height I my dizzy head
Swims at the precipicel.. 't is death to fall ! 5

Lie still, thou coward heart! this is no time To shake with thy strong throbs the frame convulsed. To die, - to be at rest, – oh, pleasant thought ! Perchance to leap and live; the soul all still, And the wild tempest of the passions husht 10 In one deep calm ; the heart, no more diseased By the quick ague fits of hope and fear, Quietly cold!

Presiding Powers, look down! In vain to you I pour'd my earnest prayers,

In vain I sung your praises : chiefly thou, 15
Venus! ungrateful Goddess, whom my lyre
Hymn'd with such full devotion. Lesbian groves,
Witness how often, at the languid hour
Of summer twilight, to the melting song
Ye gave your choral echoes! Grecian maids, 20
Who hear with downcast look and flushing cheek,
That lay of love, bear witness ! and ye youths,
Who hang enraptured on the impassion'd strain,
Gazing with eloquent eye, even till the heart
Sinks in the deep delirium ! And ye, too,

25
Ages unborn! bear witness ye, how hard
Her fate who hymn'd the votive hymn in vain !
Ungrateful Goddess ! I have hung my lute
In yonder holy pile; my hand no more
Shall wake the melodies that fail'd to move
Obdurate Phaon!.. yet when rumour tells
How from Leucadia Sappho cast herself,
A self-devoted victim, .. he may

melt Too late in pity, obstinate to love.

SO

Oh! haunt his midnight dreams, black Nemesis ! Whom *, self-conceiving in the inmost depths 36 Of Chaos, blackest Night long labouring bore, When the stern Destinies, her elder brood, And shapeless Death, from that more monstrous birth Leapt shuddering: Haunt his slumbers, Nemesis ! Scorch with the fires of Phlegethon his heart, 41 Till helpless, hopeless heaven-abandon'd wretch,

* Ου τινι κοιμηθεισα θεα τεκε ΝΥΞ ερεβεννη.

HESIOD.

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