Along our wildly-bower'd sequester'd walk,
We listen to the enamour'd rustic's talk ;
Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast,
Where young-eyed Loves have hid* their turtle
nest;

Or guide of soul-subduing power

The glance, that from the half-confessing eyet
Darts the fond question or the soft reply.

VI.

Or through the mystic ringlets of the vale We flash our faery feet in gamesome prank; Or, silent-sandal'd, pay our defter court, Circling the Spirit of the Western Gale, Where wearied with his flower-caressing sport, Supine he slumbers on a violet bank; Then with quaint music hymn the parting gleam By lonely Otter's sleep-persuading stream; Or where his wave with loud unquiet song Dash'd o'er the rocky channel froths along; Or where, his silver waters smoothed to rest, The tall tree's shadow sleeps upon his breast.

VII.

Hence thou lingerer, Light!
Eve saddens into Night.

Mother of wildly-working dreams! we view
The sombre hours, that round thee stand
With down-cast eyes (a duteous band!)

* Have built.-1796.

+ Th' electric flash that from the melting eye.—ib.

Their dark robes dripping with the heavy dew.
Sorceress of the ebon throne !

Thy power the Pixies own,
When round thy raven brow
Heaven's lucent roses glow,

And clouds in watery colours drest
Float in light drapery o'er thy sable vest :
What time the pale moon sheds a softer day
Mellowing the woods beneath its pensive beam :
For mid the quivering light 'tis ours to play,
Aye dancing to the cadence of the stream.

VIII.

Welcome, Ladies! to the cell

Where the blameless Pixies dwell:

But thou, sweet Nymph! proclaim'd our Faery Queen,

With what obeisance meet

Thy presence shall we greet?

For lo! attendant on thy steps are seen
Graceful Ease in artless stole,
And white-robed Purity of soul,

With Honour's softer mien ;
Mirth of the loosely-flowing hair,
And meek-eyed Pity eloquently fair,

Whose tearful cheeks are lovely to the view As snow-drop wet with dew.

IX.

Unboastful Maid! though now the Lily pale
Transparent grace thy beauties meek;
Yet ere again along the impurpling vale,

The purpling vale and elfin-haunted grove,
Young Zephyr his fresh flowers profusely throws,
We'll tinge with livelier hues thy cheek;
And haply from the nectar-breathing Rose
Extract a Blush for Love!

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF
CHATTERTON.

WHAT a wonder seems the fear of death,
Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep,
Babes, Children, Youths, and Men,

Night following night for threescore years and ten !
But doubly strange, where life is but a breath
To sigh and pant with, up Want's rugged steep.

Away, Grim Phantom! Scorpion King, away!
Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display
For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of State!
Lo! by the grave I stand of one, for whom
A prodigal nature and a niggard doom
(That all bestowing, this withholding all,)

Made each chance knell from distant spire or dome
Sound like a seeking Mother's anxious call,
Return, poor Child! Home, weary truant, home!*
Thee, Chatterton! these unblest stones protect
From want, and the bleak freezings of neglect.

* The original opening of this Monody (as printed in the Volumes of 1796, 1797, and 1803) was as follows:

*Too long before the vexing Storm-blast driven
Here hast thou found repose! beneath this sod!
Thou! O vain word! thou dwell'st not with the clod!
Amid the shining Host of the Forgiven

Thou at the throne of mercy and thy God
The triumph of redeeming Love dost hymn
(Believe it, O my Soul !) to harps of Seraphim.

Yet oft, perforce, ('tis suffering Nature's call)

I

weep that heaven-born Genius so should fall;
And oft, in Fancy's saddest hour, my soul
Averted shudders at the poison'd bowl.
Now groans my sickening heart, as still I view
Thy corse of livid hue;

Now indignation checks the feeble sigh,

[eye!

Or flashes through the tear† that glistens in mine

"When faint and sad o'er Sorrow's desart wild
Slow journeys onward poor Misfortune's child,
When fades each lovely form by Fancy drest,
And inly pines the self-consuming breast;

No
Scourge of scorpions in thy right arm dread,
No helmed terrors nodding o'er thy head.

Assume, O Death, the cherub wings of Peace,
And bid the heart-sick Wanderer's anguish cease!"
* The original version (1796) continues thus :-
"Escaped the sore wounds of Affliction's rod
Meek at the throne of Mercy, and of God,
Perchance thou raisest high th' enraptured hymn
Amid the blaze of Seraphim!

Yet oft ('tis Nature's bosom-startling call)," &c.

And now a flash of indignation high
Darts thro' the tear, &c.

1796.

Is this the land of song-ennobled line ?
Is this the land, where Genius ne'er in vain
Pour'd forth his lofty strain?

Ah me! yet Spenser, gentlest bard divine,
Beneath chill Disappointment's shade,
His weary limbs in lonely anguish laid;
And o'er her darling dead

Pity hopeless hung her head,

While “mid the pelting of that merciless storm," Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form !

Sublime of thought, and confident of fame,
From vales where Avon winds the Minstrel* came.
Light-hearted youth! aye, as he hastes along,
He meditates the future song,

How dauntless Ælla fray'd the Dacyan foe;
And while the numbers flowing strong
In eddies whirl, in surges throng,

Exulting in the spirits' genial throe

In tides of power his life-blood seems to flow.†

* Avon, a river near Bristol; the birth-place of Chatterton. How dauntless Ælla fray'd the Dacyan foes;

And, as floating high in air

Glitter the sunny visions fair

His eyes dance rapture, and his bosom glows!

1796.

In the editions of 1797 and 1803 the poem continues here

"Ah! where are fled the charms," &c.,

the whole of the intermediate passage being omitted.