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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, O 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
WRITTEN DURING A TEMPORARY BLINDNESS,
IN THE YEAR 1799.
0, 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;
[in its slumber; Him that smiled in his gladness as a babe that smiles Even for him it exists! It moves and stirs in its prison !
(murmurs: Lives with a separate life: and—" Is it a spirit ?” he “ Sure, it has thoughts of its own, and to see is only
a language !"
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
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
wilderd, Rushes dividuous all-all rushing impetuous onward.
HEAR, my beloved, an old Milesian story!-
DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE,
THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE.
UNCHANGED within to see all changed without
Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light
PHANTOM OR FACT.
A DIALOGUE IN VERSE.
A LOVELY form there sate beside my bed,