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That I should dream away the trusted Hours
On rose-leaf Beds, pamp’ring the coward Heart
With feelings all too delicate for use ?
Sweet is the Tear that from some Howard's eye
Drops on the cheek of one, he lifts from earth :
And He, that works me good with unmov'd face,
Does it but half: he chills me while he aids,
My Benefactor, not my Brother Man !
Yet even this, this cold Beneficence
Seizes my Praise, when I reflect on those,
The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving Tribe !
Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the Wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty Sympathies !
I therefore go, and join bead, heart, and hand,
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.
Yet oft when after honourable toil
Rests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to dream,
My Spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot!
Thy Jasmine and thy window-peeping Rose,
And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air.
And I shall sigh fond wishes-sweet Abode !
Ah-had none greater ! And that all had such !
It might be so—but the time is not yet.
Speed it, O Father! Let thy Kingdom come!

ODE TO SARA,

WRITTEN AT SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDGWATER,

SEPTEMBER, 1795, IN ANSWER TO A LETTEV
FROM BRISTOL,

[The first Stanza alludes to a Passage in the Letter.]
Nor travels my meand'ring eye
The starry wilderness on high ;

Nor now with curious signt I mark the glow-worm, as

I

pass, Move with “green radiance” thro' the grass,

An Emerald of Light.

O ever-present to my view !
My wafted spirit is with you,

And soothes your boding fears :
I see you all oppress’d with gloom
Sit lonely in that cheerless room-

Ah me! You are in tears !

Beloved woman ! did you fly
Chill'd Friendship’s dark disliking eye,

Or mirth's untimely din ?
With cruel weight these trifles press
A temper sore with Tenderness,

When aches the void within.
But why with sable wand unbless'd
Should Fancy rouse within my

breast
Dim-visag'd shapes of Dread ?
Untenanting its beauteous clay
My Sara's soul has wing’d its way:

And hovers round my head!

I felt it prompt the tender Dream,
When slowly sunk the day's last gleam;

You rous'd each gentler sense,
As sigbing o'er the Blossom’s bloom,
Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume

With viewless influence.

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans Thro' yon reft house! O’er rolling stones

With broad impetuous sweep, The fast encroaching tides supply

The silence of the cloudless sky

linn muc tuuluvad uuu.

Dark-red’ning from the channel:d Isle
(Where stands one solitary pile

Unslated by the blast)
The Watchfire, like a sullen star,
Twinkles to many a dozing Tar

Rude-cradled on the mast.

Ev'n there-beneath that light-house tower
In the tumultuous evil hour
Ere Peace with Sara came,

was, I should have thought it sweet To count the echoings of my feet,

And watch the troubled flame.

And there in black and jaundic'd fit
A sad gloom-pamper'd Man to sit,

And listen to the roar :
When mountain Surges bellowing deep
With an uncouth monster leap

Plungod foaming on the shore.
Then by the Lightning's blaze to mark
Some toiling tempest-shatter'd bark ;

Her vain distress-guns hear :
And when a second sheet of light
Flash'd o'er the blackness of the night-

To see no Vessel there!

But Fancy now more gaily sings;
Or if awhile she droop her wings,

As sky-larks mid the corn,
On summer fields she grounds her breasts

• The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.

Th’ oblivious Poppy o'er her rest
Nods, till returning morn.
O mark those smiling tears, that swell
The open'd Rose! From heaven they fell,

And with the sun-beam blend;
Blest visitation from above :
Such are the tender woes of Love

Fost'ring the heart, they bend !
When stormy Midnight howling round
Beats on our roof with clatt'ring sound.

To me your arms you'll stretch :
Great God! you'll say—To us so kind,
O shelter from this loud bleak wind

The houseless, friendless wretch !
The tears that tremble down your cheek,
Shall bathe my kisses chaste and meek

In Pity's dew divine ;
And from your heart the sighs that steal
Shall make your rising bosom feel

The answ'ring swell of mine !

How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet
I paint the moment, we shall meet!

With eager speed I dart
I seize you in the vacant air,
And fancy, with a Husband's care

I press you to my heart !

"l'is said, on Summer's evening hour
Flashes the go!den-colour'd flower

A fair electric flame :
And so shall flash my love-charg'd eye
When all the heart's big ecstasy

Shoots rapid thro' the frame !

LINES COMPOSED AT CLEVEDON,

SOMERSETSHIRE.

My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclin'd
Thus on mine arm, niost soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our cot, our cot o'er grown
With white-flower'd Jasmine, and the broad-leav'd

Myrtle,
(Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with lights
Slow-sadd’ning round, and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant (such should wisdom be)
Shinc opposite ! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world so

hush'd! The stilly murmur of the distant Sea Tells us of Silence. And that simplest Lute Plac'd length-ways in the clasping casement, hark! How by the desultory breeze caress’d, Like some coy Maid half-yielding to her Lover, It

pours such sweet upbraidings, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now its strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious surges sink and rise Such a soft floating witchery of sound As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve · Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy Land, Where Melodies, round honey-dropping flowers Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise, Nor pause nor perch, hov’ring on untam'd wing. And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon, Whilst turo'

my

half-clos'd eyelids I behold The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main, And tranquil muse upon tranquillity ;

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