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. The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone,—and the birch in its stead is grown.-
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

HYMN TO THE EARTH

HEXAMETERS. :

Earth! thou mother of numberless children, the

nurse and the mother, Hail ! O Goddess, thrice hail ! Blest be thou ! and,

blessing, I hymn thee! Forth, ye sweet sounds! from my harp, and my

voice shall float on your surgesSoar thou aloft, O my soul ! and bear up my song

on thy pinions.

Travelling the vale with mine eyes-green mea

dows and lake with green island, Dark in its basin of rock, and the bare stream

flowing in brightness, Thrilled with thy beauty and love in the wooded

slope of the mountain, Here, great mother, I lie, thy child, with his head on thy bosom!

[thy tresses, Playful the spirits of noon, that rushing soft through

VOL. II,

F

Green-haired goddess ! refresh me; and hark ! as

they hurry or linger, [sical murmurs. Fill the pause of my harp, or sustain it with muInto my being thou murmurest joy, and tenderest

sadness Shedd'st thou, like dew, on my heart, till the joy

and the heavenly sadness Pour themselves forth from my heart in tears, and

the hymn of thanksgiving. Earth! thou mother of numberless children, the

nurse and the mother, [the rejoicer ! Sister thou of the stars, and beloved by the sun, Guardian and friend of the moon, O Earth, whom

the comets forget not, Yea, in the measureless distance wheel round and

again they behold thee ! [of creation ?) Fadeless and young (and what if the latest birth Bride and consort of Heaven, that looks down upon thee enamoured!

[goddess, Say, mysterious Earth! O say, great mother and Was it not well with thee then, when first thy lap

was ungirdled, Thy lap to the genial Heaven, the day that he

wooed thee and won thee! Fair was thy blush, the fairest and first of the

blushes of morning ! [self-retention : Deep was the shudder, 0 Earth! the throe of thy Inly thou strovest to flee, and didst seek thyself at thy centre !

(and forthwith Mightier far was the joy of thy sudden resilience ;

Myriad myriads of lives teemed forth from the

mighty embracement. Thousand-fold tribes of dwellers, impelled by thou

sand-fold instincts, Filled, as a dream, the wide waters; the rivers

sang on their channels ; Laughed on their shores the hoarse seas; the yearn

ing ocean swelled upward ; Young life lowed through the meadows, the woods,

and the echoing mountains, Wandered bleating in valleys, and warbled on blos

soming branches

WRITTEN DURING A TEMPORARY BLINDNESS,

IN THE YEAR 1799.

O, what a life is the eye! what a strange and inscrutable essence !

(warms him; Him, that is utterly blind, nor glimpses the fire that Him that never beheld the swelling breast of his mother;

[smiles in its slumber; Him that smiled in his gladness as a babe that Even for him it exists! It moves and stirs in its prison !

[he murmurs : Lives with a separate life: and—“ Is it a spirit?” “Sure, it has thoughts of its own, and to see is only

a language !”

MAHOMET.

UTTER the song, O my soul! the flight and return

of Mohammed, Prophet and priest, who scatter'd abroad both evil

and blessing, Huge wasteful empires founded and hallow'd slow

persecution, Soul-withering, but crush'd the blasphemous rites

of the Pagan And idolatrous Christians.—For veiling the Gospel

of Jesus, They, the best corrupting, had made it worse than

the vilest. Wherefore Heaven decreed th' enthusiast warrior

of Mecca, Choosing good from iniquity rather than evil from

goodness. Loud the tumult in Mecca surrounding the fane

of the idol ;Naked and prostrate the priesthood were laid-the

people with mad shouts Thundering now, and now with saddest ululation Flew, as over the channel of rock-stone the ruinous

river Shatters its waters abreast, and in mazy uproar be

wilder'd, Rushes dividuous all-all rushing impetuous on

ward.

CATULLIAN HENDECASYLLABLES.

HEAR, my beloved, an old Milesian story !
High, and embosom'd in congregated laurels,
Glimmer'd a temple upon a breezy headland;
In the dim distance amid the skiey billows
Rose a fair island; the god of flocks had plac'd it.
From the far shores of the bleak resounding island
Oft by the moonlight a little boat came floating,
Came to the sea-cave beneath the breezy headland,
Where amid myrtles a pathway stole in mazes
Up to the groves of the high embosom'd temple.
There in a thicket of dedicated roses,
Oft did a priestess, as lovely as a vision,
Pouring her soul to the son of Cytherea,
Pray him to hover around the slight canoe-boat,
And with invisible pilotage to guide it
Over the dusk wave, until the mighty sailor
Shivering with ecstasy sank upon her bosom.

DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE,

THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE.

A SOLILOQUY.

UNCHANGED within to see all changed without
Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt.
Yet why at others' wanings should'st thou fret ?
Then only might'st thou feel a just regret,

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