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النشر الإلكتروني

I've seen

"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow — | and sure I ought to know." | So, begs you'd pay a due submission, | And acquiesce in his decision. |

Two travellers of such a cast, |
As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass'd, |
And on their way, in friendly chat,
Now talk'd of this', and then of that, I
Discours'd a while, 'mongst other matter, |
Of the Chameleon's form, and nature.

"A stranger animal," cries one,
"Sure never liv'd beneath the sun! |
A lizard's body, lean, and long, |
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,
Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd
And what a length of tail, behind! |
How slow, its pace! and then, its hue' — {
Who ever saw so fine a blue, ?" |


"Hold there," the other quick replies, |


"'Tis green' I saw it with these, eyes, |
As late with open mouth, it lay,
And warm'd it in the sunny ray; |
Stretch'd at its ease, the beast I view'd', |
And saw it eat the air for food." |

"I've seen it, friend, as well as you', |
And must again affirm it blue.. |
At leisure, I the beast survey'd', |
Extended in the cooling shade." 1

"'Tis green', 't is green', I can assure ye." | "Green!" 'cries the other in a fury,- | "Why, do you think I've lost my eyes' ?" | "'T were no great loss," the friend replies,, | For, if they always serve you thus', | You'll find them but of little use." |


So high at last the contest rose', |
From words they almost came to blows: |
When luckily came by, a third T
To him the question they referr'd; |
And begg'd he'd tell them, if he knew', |
Whether the thing was green, or blue. |

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"Sirs," cries the umpire, |" cease your pother; |
The creature's neither one nor t'other. |
I caught the animal last night, |

And view'd it o'er by candle-light : |
I mark'd it well

't was black as jet —|

You stare | but I have got it yet', |
And can produce' it." | "Pray then do'; |
For I am sure the thing is blue.." |

"And I'll' engage that when you've seen, |
The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."|
"Well then, at once to end the doubt," |
Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: |
And, when before your eyes I've set him, |
If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." |
He said; then full before their sight, |
Produc'd the beast, and lo!-'t was white,!|

Both stared: the man look'd wondrous wise
"My children," 'the chameleon cries, |
(Then first the creature found a tongue) |
2. You all are right, and all are wrong:
When next you talk of what you view,|
Think others see as well as you: |
Nor wonder if you find that none,
Prefers your eye-sight to his own." |


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[Written after the death of a sister-in-law.]

Answer me, burning stars of night'! |
Where hath the spirit gone, |
That, past the reach of human sight, |
E'en as a breeze, hath flown? |
And the stars answer'd me, "We roll
In light, and power on high;|
But, of the never-dying soul, |
Ask things that cannot die!" |

O many-toned, and chainless wind! |
Thou art a wanderer free', [
Tell me if thou its place canst find', |
Far over mount, and sea? |
And the wind murmur'd in reply',
"The blue deep I have cross'd', |
And met its barks, and billows high, I'
But not what thou hast lost, !" |

Ye clouds that gorgeously repose |
Around the setting sun', |
An'swer! | have ye a home for those |
Whose earthly race is run'? |
The bright clouds answer'd, "We depart, |
We van'ish from the sky; |

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Ask what is deathless in thy heart, I
For that which cannot die!" |

Speak, then, thou voice of God within!!
Thou of the deep low tone! |
Answer me! through life's restless din', |
Where hath the spirit flown? |

And the voice answer'd,— | “Be thou still! [
Enough to know is given; |
Clouds, winds, and stars their task fulfil,—|
Thine is to trust in Heav'n!" |



He is the freeman, whom the truth makes free; |
And all are slaves beside. There's not a chain |
That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, |
Can wind around him, but he casts it off]
With as much ease as Samson his
He looks abroad into the varied field
Of nature, | and, though poor, perhaps, compared
With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, |
Calls the delightful scenery all his own. |

green withes. I

His are the moun'tains; and the valleys his; |
And the resplendent riv'ers: | his to enjoy |
With a propriety that none can feel, |
But who, with filial confidence inspired, |
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, |
And, smiling, say,-"My Father made them all!" |

Are they not his by a peculiar right, |
And by an emphasis of in'terest his,
Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy,
Whose heart with praise', and whose exalted mind
With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love |
That plann'd, and built, and still upholds a world |
So clothed with beauty, for rebellious man、? |


Yesye may fill your garners, | ye that reap
The loaded soil, and ye may waste much good
In senseless riot; | but ye will not find
In feast', or in the chase', in song', or dance', |
A liberty like his, who, unimpeach'd
Of usurpation, I and to no man's wrong, |
Appropriates nature as his Father's work, |
And has a richer use of yours than you.
He is indeed a freeman: | free by birth
Of no mean city, plann'd or ere the hills

Were built, the fountains o'pen'd, or the sea'
With all his roaring multitude of waves. I

His freedom is the same in ev'ry state; |
And no condition of this changeful life, |
So manifold in cares, | whose ev'ry day
Brings its own evil with it, makes it less; |
For he has wings that neither sickness', pain',
Nor penury can cripple, or confine :|

No nook so narrow | but he spreads them there
With ease, and is at large, the oppressor holds
His body bound, but knows not what a range
His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ; |
And that to bind him, | is a vain attempt`, |
Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells,. }



There came to the beach, a poor exile of Erin;

The dew on his thin robe, was heavy, and chill; 1 For his country he sigh'd when at twilight repairing, | To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill. [ But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion; | For it rose on his own native isle of the ocean, | Where once, in the fervour of youth's warm emotion, | He sung the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. | Sad is my fate! (said the heart-broken stranger) | The wild-deer, and wolf to a covert can flee; | But I have no refuge from famine, and danger:| A home, and a country remain not to me 1 Never again in the green sunny bowers, | Where my forefathers liv'd, shall I spend the sweet


Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, |
And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh ! |

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