Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles: Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow; And waft, across the wave's tumultuous roar, The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.

Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shatter'd bark de lay;

Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.

But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils keep, And sing to charm the spirit of the deep: Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole, Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul; His native hills that rise in happier climes, The grot that heard his song of other times, His cottage home, his bark of slender sail, His glassy lake, and broom wood-blossom'd vale, Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind, Treads the loved shore he sigh'd to leave behind; Meets at each step a friend's familiar face, And flies at last to Helen's long embrace; Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear, And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear! While, long neglected, but at length caress'd, His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest, Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam) His wistful face, and whines a welcome home.

Friend of the brave! in peril's darkest bour, Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power

To thee the heart its trembling homage yields,
On stormy floods, and carnage-cover'd fields,
When front to front the banner'd hosts coinbine,
Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line.
When all is still on Death's devoted soil,
The march worn soldier mingles for the toil;
As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high
The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye,
Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come,
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!

And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore
The hardy Byron to his native shore-(1)
In horrid climes, where Chiloe's tempests sweep
Tumaltuous murmurs o'er the troubled deep,
'T was his to mourn Misfortune's rudest shock,
Scourged by the winds, and cradled on the rock,
To wake each joyless morn, and search again
The famish'd haunts of solitary men;
Whose race, unyielding as their native storm,
Know not a trace of Nature but the form;
Yet, at thy call, the hardy tar pursued,
Pale, bit intrepid, sad, but unsubdued,
Pierced the deep woods, and hailing from afar
The moon's pale planet and the northern star;
Paused at each dreary cry, unheard before,
Hyenas in the wild, and mermaids on the shore;
Till, led by thee o'er many a cliff sublime,
He found a warmer world, a milder clime,
A home to rest, a shelter to defend,

Peace and repose, a Briton and a friend! (2)

Congenial HOPE! thy passion-kindling power, How bright, how strong, in youth's untroubled hour!

On yon proud height, with Genius hand in hand, I see thee light, and wave thy golden wand.

"Go, child of Heav'n! (thy winged words proclaim)

'Tis thine to search the boundless fields of fame! Lo! Newton, priest of nature, shines afar, Scans the wide world, and numbers every star! Wilt thou, with him, mysterious rites apply, And watch the shrine with wonder-beaming eye! Yes, thou shalt mark, with magic art profound, The speed of light, the circling march of sound; With Franklin grasp the lightning's fiery wing, Or yield the lyre of Heav'n another string. (3)

"The Swedish sage (4) admires in yonder bow.

ers,

His winged insects, and his rosy flowers;

Calls from their woodland haunts the savage train

With sounding horn, and counts them on the ⚫ plain

So once, at Heaven's command, the wand'rers

came

To Eden's shade, and heard their various name.

"Far from the world, in yon sequester'd clime, Slow pass the sons of Wisdom, more sublime; Calm as the fields of Heav'n his sapient eye The loved Athenian lifts to realms on high, Admiring Plato, on his spotless page, Stamps the bright dictates of the Father sage: 'Shall Nature bound to Earth's diurnal span The fire of God, th' immortal soul of man?'

"Turn, child of Heav'n, thy rapture-lighten'd eye

To Wisdom's walks, the sacred Nine are nigh: Hark! from bright spires that gild the Delphian height,

From streams that wander in eternal light, Ranged on their hill, Harmonia's daughters swell The mingling tones of horn, and harp, and shell; Deep from his vaults, the Loxian murmurs flow, (5)

And Pythia's awful organ peals below.

"Beloved of Heav'n! the smiling Muse shall shed

Her moonlight halo on thy beauteous head;
Shall swell thy heart to rapture unconfined,
And breathe a holy madness o'er thy mind.
I see thee roam her guardian pow'r beneath,
And talk with spirits on the midnight heath;
Inquire of guilty wand'rers whence they came,
And ask each blood-stain'd form his earthly name;
Then weave in rapid verse the deeds they tell,
And read the trembling world the tales of hell.

"When Venus, throned in clouds of rosy hue,
Flings from her golden urn the vesper dew,
And bids fond man her glimmering noon employ,
Sacred to love, and walks of tender joy;
A milder mood the goddess shall recall,
And soft as dew thy tones of music fall;
While Beauty's deeply-pictured smiles impart
A pang more dear than pleasure to the beart-
Warm as thy sighs shall flow the Lesbian strain,
And plead in Beauty's ear, nor plead in vain.

"Or wilt thou Orphean hymns more sacred

deem,

And steep thy song in Mercy's mellow stream?
To pensive drops the radiant eye beguile-
For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile;-
On Nature's throbbing anguish pour relief?
And teach impassion'd souls the joy of grief?

"Yes; to thy tongue shall seraph words be given,
And power on earth to plead the cause of Heaven;
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone,
That never mused on sorrow but its own,
Unlocks a generous store at thy command,
Like Horeb's rocks beneath the prophet's hand. (6
The living lumber of his kindred earth,
Charm'd into soul, receives a second birth,
Feels thy dread power another heart afford,
Whose passion-touch'd harmonious strings ac-
cord

True as the circling spheres to Nature's plan; And man, the brother, lives the friend of man.

"Bright as the pillar rose at Heaven's command, When Israel march'd along the desert land, Blazed through the night on lonely wilds afar, And told the path,-a never-setting star: So, heavenly Genius, in thy course divine, HOPE is thy star, her light is ever thine."

Propitious Power! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy; When doom'd to Poverty's sequester'd dell, The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell, Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame, Their woes, thair wishes, and their hearts the saine