Calais, Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind, August, 1802 Or what is it that ye go forth to see?

Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree,
Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and
blind,

Post forward all, like creatures of one kind,
With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee
In France, before the new-born Majesty.
'Tis ever thus. Ye men of prostrate mind,
A seemly reverence may be paid to power;
But that's a loyal virtue, never sown

In haste, nor springing with a transient shower:
When truth, when sense, when liberty were flown,
What hardship had it been to wait an hour?
Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!

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On the Road JONES! as from Calais southward you and I
leading to Went pacing side by side, this public Way
Ardres Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day,
Aug. 7, 1802
When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty:
A homeless sound of joy was in the sky:
From hour to hour the antiquated Earth,
Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, mirth,
Banners, and happy faces, far and nigh!
And now, sole register that these things were,
Two solitary greetings have I heard,
"Good morrow, Citizen! a hollow word,
As if a dead man spake it! Yet despair
Touches me not, though pensive as a bird
Whose vernal coverts winter hath laid bare.

ruler
May 21, 1802

I GRIEVED for Buonaparté, with a vain
The training
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood of a good
Of that Man's mind-what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could be gain?
'Tis not in battles that from youth we train
The Governor who must be wise and good,
And temper with the sternness of the brain
Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.
Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk
Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk
Of the mind's business: these are the degrees
By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk
True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.

FESTIVALS have I seen that were not names :
This is young Buonaparte's natal day,
And his is henceforth an established sway--
Consul for life. With worship France proclaims
Her approbation, and with pomps and games.
Heaven grant that other Cities may be
gay!
Calais is not: and I have bent my way
To the sea-coast, noting that each man frames
His business as he likes. Far other show
My youth here witnessed, in a prouder time;
The senselessness of joy was then sublime!
Happy is he, who, caring not for Pope,
Consul, or King, can sound himself to know
The destiny of Man, and live in hope.

Calais, August 15, 1802

On the Ex- ONCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; tinction of And was the safeguard of the west: the worth the Venetian Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Republic

1802 Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.

She was a maiden City, bright and free;
No guile seduced, no force could violate;
And, when she took unto herself a Mate,
She must espouse the everlasting Sea.
And what if she had seen those glories fade,
Those titles vanish, and that strength decay;
Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid
When her long life hath reached its final day :
Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade
Of that which once was great, is passed away.

The King of THE Voice of song from distant lands shall call
Sweden To that great King: shall hail the crowned Youth
1802 Who, taking counsel of unbending Truth,
By one example hath set forth to all

How they with dignity may stand; or fall,
If fall they must. Now, whither doth it tend?

And what to him and his shall be the end?
That thought is one which neither can appal
Nor cheer him; for the illustrious Swede hath done
The thing which ought to be; is raised above
All consequences: work he hath begun
Of fortitude, and piety, and love,

Which all his glorious ancestors approve :
The heroes bless him, him their rightful son.

TOUSSAINT, the most unhappy man of men!
Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough
Within thy hearing, or thy head be now
Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ;
O miserable Chieftain! where and when
Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou
Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:
Though fallen thyself, never to rise again,
Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind
Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies;
There's not a breathing of the common wind
That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;
Thy friends are exultations, agonies,
And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

To Toussaint L'Ouverture 1802

WE had a female Passenger who came
From Calais with us, spotless in array,—
A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay,
Yet downcast as a woman fearing blame;
Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim
She sate, from notice turning not away,
But on all proffered intercourse did lay
A weight of languid speech, or to the same
No sign of answer made by word or face :
Yet still those eyes retained their tropic fire,
That, burning independent of the mind,
Joined with the lustre of her rich attire
To mock the Outcast.-O ye Heavens, be kind!
And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race!

After the expulsion of negroes from France September 1, 1802

In the Valley HERE, on our native soil, we breathe once more. near Dover The cock that crows, the smoke that curls,that sound Aug. 30, 1802 Ofbells;-those boys who in yon meadow-ground

In white-sleeved shirts are playing; and the roar
Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore ;-
All, all are English. Oft have I looked round
With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found
Myself so satisfied in heart before.

Europe is yet in bonds; but let that pass,
Thought for another moment. Thou art free,

My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride
For one hour's perfect bliss, to tread the grass
Of England once again, and hear and see,
With such a dear Companion at my side.

Near Dover, INLAND, within a hollow vale, I stood; September And saw, while sea was calm and air was clear, 1802 The coast of France-the coast of France how

near!

Drawn almost into frightful neighbourhood.

I shrunk; for verily the barrier flood
Was like a lake, or river bright and fair,
A span of waters; yet what power is there!
What mightiness for evil and for good!
Even so doth God protect us if we be

Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters roll,
Strength to the brave, and Power, and Deity;
Yet in themselves are nothing! One decree
Spake laws to them, and said that by the soul
Only, the Nations shall be great and free.