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That obvious emblem giving to the eye
THE FORCE OF PRAYER,'
OR THE FOUNDING OF BOLTON PRIORY;
That is good for a bootless bene?: With these dark words begins my Tale; And their meaning is, whence can comfort spriaz When Prayer is of no avail ?
Tlihat is good for a bootless bene?: The Falconer to the Lady said; And she made answer « ENDLESS SORROW! For she kuew that her Son was dead.
But turn we from these « bold bad» men ;
prosper it! may peace, and love,
ON THE SAME OCCASION.
She knew it by the Falconer's words,
Oh! gather whencezoe'er ye safely may
-Young Romilly through Barden woods
Our churches, invariably perhaps, stand east and west, but why is
by few persons exactly known; nor, that the degree of deviation from due east often noticeable in the ancient ones was determined, in each particular case, by the point in the horizon, at which the sun rose upon the day of the Saint to whom the church was dedicated. These observances of our Ancestors, and the causes of them,
are the subject of tho following stanzas.
The pair have reached that fearful chasm,
'See • The White Doe of Rylstore," page 192.
This Striding-place is called Tue Strip,
To aid a covert purpose, cried-0 ye
Approaching waters of the deep, that share
Your Master's throne is set !»- Absurd decree!
A mandate uttered to the foaming sea And hither is young Romilly come,
Is to its motion less than wanton air. And what may now forbid
- Then Canute, rising from the invaded Throne, That he, perhaps for the hundredth time,
Said to his servile Courtiers, « Poor the reach, Shall bound across THE STRID?
The undisguised extent, of mortal sway!
lle only is a king, and he alone He sprang in glce,- for what cared he
Deserves the name (this truth the billows preach) That the River was strong, and the rocks were stecp? Whose everlasting law, sea, earth, and heaven obey.» -But the Greyhound in the leash hung back, This just reproof the prosperous
Dane And checked him in his leap.
Drew, from the influx of the Main,
For some whose rugged northern mouths would straia The Boy is in the arms of Wharf,
At oriental flattery; And strangled by a merciless force;
And Canute (truth more worthy to be known) For never more was young Romilly seen
From that time forth did for his brows disown Till he rose a lifeless Corse.
The osientatious symbol of a Crown;
Esteeming earthly royalty
Contemptible and vain.
Now hear what one of elder days,
Rich theme of England's fondest praise,
ller darling Alfred, might have spoken; If for a Lover the Lady wept,
To cheer the remnant of bis host A solace she might borrow
When he was driven from coast to coast, From death, and from the passion of death; Distressed and harassed, but with mind unbroken : Old Wharf might heal her sorrow.
« My faithful Followers, lo! the tide is spent;
That rose, and steadily advanced to fill She weeps not for the wedding-day
The shores and channels, working Nature's will Which was to be to-morrow :
Among the mazy streams that backward went, ller hope was a farther-looking hope,
And in the sluggish pools where ships are pent : And hers is a Mother's sorrow.
And now, its task performed, the Flood stands still
At the green base of many an inland hill, 1 He was a Tree that stood alone,
In placid beauty and sublime content! And proudly did its branches wave;
Such the repose that Sage and Hero find; And the Root of this delightful Tree
Such measured rest the sedulous and good Was in her Husband's grave!
Of humbler pame; whose souls do, like the flood
Of Ocean, press right on; or gently wind, Long, long in darkness did she sit,
Neither to be diverted nor withstood, And her first words were, « Let there be
Until they reach the bounds by Heaven assigned.» In Bolloy, on the field of Wharf, A stately Priory!»
« A little onward lend thy guiding hand The stately Priory was reared;
To these dark steps, a little further on!» And Wharf, as he moved along,
- What trick of memory to my voice hath brought To Matins joined a mournful voice,
This mournful iteration? For though Time, Nor failed at Even-song.
| The Conqueror, crowns the Conquered, on this brow
Planting his favourite silver diadem,
Nor he, nor minister of his-intent
To run before him, hath enrolled me yet,
Though not unmenaced, among those who lean
Upon a living staff, with borrowed sight..
-O my Antigone, beloved child!
Should that day come-but bark! the birds salute
The cheerful dawn, brightening for me the east;
For me, thy natural Leader, once again
Impatient to conduct thee, not as erst
From flower to flower supported; but to curb 1 A FACT, AND AN IMAGINATION; Thy nymph-like step swift-bounding o'er the lawn,
Along the loose rocks, or the slippery verge
of foaming torrent. - From thy orisons i The Danish Conqueror, on his royal chair,
Come forth; and, while the morning air is yet | Hustering a face of haughty sovereignty,
Transparent as the soul of innocent youth,
The anxieties of human love, And earth's precarious days.
Let me, they happy Guide, now point lloy way,
But list!-though winter storms be nigh,
And yet more gladly thee would I conduct
gentle, pensive, white-robed sisterhood,
UPON THE SAME OCCASION.
aspect tenderly illumed,
No faint and hesitating trill,
Now also shall the page of classic lore, To these glad eyes from bondage freed, again Lic open; and the book of Holy Writ, Again unfolded, passage clear shall yield
more glorious still, and into shades More awful, where advancing hand in hand We may be taught, 0 Darling of my care! To calm the affections, elevate the soul, And consecrate our lives to truth and love.
Nor doth the example fail to cheer
Yet will I temperately rejoice;
SEPTEMBER, 1819. The sylvan slopes with corn-clad ficlds Are hung, as if with golden shields, Bright trophies of the sun! Like a fair sister of the sky, Unruffed doth the blue Lake lie, The Mountains looking on.
For deathless powers to verse belong,
With finest touch of passion swayed ller own Eolian Jute.
O ye who patiently explore
That were, indeed, a genuine birth
Unharnessed, naked, troops of Moorish horse
- Alas! that One thus disciplined could toil
Where now the havchty Empire that was spread With such fond hope ? hier very speech is dead; Yet glorious Art the sweep of Time defies, And Trajan still, through various enterprise, Hounds, in this fine illusion, tow'rd the skies : Suill are we present with the imperial Chief, Nor cease to gaze upon the bold Relief Till Rome, to silent marble unconfined, Becomes with all her years a vision of the Mind.
THE PILLAR OF TRAJAN. WheBe Towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds O'er mutilated arcbes shed their seeds; And Temples, doomed to milder change, unfold A new magoificence ibat vies with old; Firm in its pristine majesty hath stood A votive column, spared by fire and flood; And, though the passions of Man's freiful race Ilave never ceased to eddy round its base, Not injured more by touch of meddling hands Than a lone Obelisk, 'mid Nubian sands, Or aught in Syrian deserts left to save, From death the memory of the Good and Brave. Historic figures round the shaft embost Ascend, with lineaments in air not lost : Sull as he turns, the charmed Spectator sees Group winding after group with dream-like case ; , Triumphs in sunbright gratisule displayed, Or softly stealing into modest shade. -So, pleased with purple clusters to entwine Some lofty elm-tree, mounts the daring vine ; The woodbine so, with spiral grace, and breathes Wide-spreading odours from her flowery wreaths.
Borne by the Musc from rills in shepherds' ears Murmuring but one smooth story for all years, I gladly commune with the mind and heart Of him wlio tbus survives by classic art, His actions wilocss, venerate his mien, And study Trajan as by Pliny seen; Bebold low fought the Chief whose conquering sworu Stretched far as Earthi might own a single lord; In the delight of moral prudence schooled, llow feelingly at home the Sovereign ruled; Lest of the good-io Pagan faith allied lo more than Man, by virtue deilied.
(SEE PLUTARCH.) Fair is the Swan, whose majesty, prevailing O'er breezeless water, on Locarno's lake, Bears him on while proudly sailing He leaves beliiod a moop-illumined wake : Behold! the manuling spirit of reserve Fashions his neck into a goodly curve; An arch thrown back between luxuriant wings Of whitest garniturc, like fir-tree boughs To which, on some unruftled morning, clings A flaky weight of winter's purest snows! --Behold !-as with a gushing impulse heaves That downy prow, and softly cleaves The mirror of the crystal tlood, Vanish inverted bill, and shadowy wood, And pendant rocks, where'er, in gliding state, Winds the mute Creature without visible Male Or rival, save the Queen of night Showering down a silver ligbe, From heaven, upon her chosen favourite!
Memorial Pillar! 'mid the wrecks of Time Preserve thy charge with confidence sublimeThe exultations, pomps, and cares of Rome, Whence half the breathing world received its doom ; Things that recoil from language; that, if shewn Isy aptes pencil, from the light had flown. A Ponuff, Trajan here the Gods implores, There greets an Embassy from Jodian shores; Lo! be harangues his cohorts--there the storm Of battle meets lui in authentic form!
So pure, so bright, so fitted to embrace,
" See Forsvib.
Fell round him in the grove of Academe,
Like Auster whirling to and fro,
His force on Caspian foam to try;
Or Boreas when he scours the snow
That skins the plains of Thessaly,
Or when aloft on Mænalus he stops
His flight, mid eddying pine-tree tops!
So, but from coil less sigo of profit reaping,
The sullen Spectre to her purpose bowed, Five thousand warriors-0 the rapturous day!
Sweeping-vehemently sweepingEach crowned with flowers, and armed with
No pause admitted, no design avowed ! shield,
« Avaunt, inexplicable Guest!-avaunt,»
Exclaimed the Chieftain-« Let me rather see
The coronal that coiling vipers make;
The torch that flames with many a lurid dake, Long-exiled Dion marching at their head,
And the long train of doleful pageantry He also crowned with flowers of Sicily,
Which they behold, whom vengeful Furies haunt; And in a white, far-beaming, corslet clad!
Who, while they struggle from the scourge to llee,
Move where the blasted soil is not unworn,
And, in their anguish, bear whatother minds þave borte!
But Shapes that come not at an carthly call, That brought their precious liberty again.
Will not depart when mortal voices bid; Lo! when the gates are entered, on each band,
Lords of the visionary Eye whose lid
Once raised, remains agliast and will not fall!
Ye Gods, thought He, that servile Implement
Obeys a mystical intent!
Your Minister would brush away
The spots that to my soul adhere;
but should she labour night and day, In boundless prodigality;
They will not, cannot disappear;
Whence angry perturbations, and that look
Which no Philosophy can brook!
IIl-fated Chief! there are whose hopes are built
Upon the ruins of thy Glorious name; Mourn, hills and groves of Attica! and mourn
Wbo, through the portal of one momcot's guilt, Illyssus, bending o'er thy classic urn!
Pursue thee with their deadly aim! Mourn, and lament for him whose spirit dreads
( matchless perfidy! portentous lust Your once-sweet memory, studious walks and shades !
Of monstrous crime!--that horror-striking blade, For him who to divinity aspired,
Drawn in defiance of the Gods, hath laid Not on the breath of popular applause,
The noble Syracusan low in dust! But through dependence on the sacred laws
Shudder the walls—the marble city weplFramed in the schools where Wisdom dwelt retired,
And sylvan places heaved a pensive sigh; Intent to trace the ideal path of right
But in calm peace the appointed Victim slept, (More fair than heaven's broad causeway paved with As he had fallen iu magnanimity: stars)
Of spirit loo capacious lo require Which Dion learned to measure with delight;
That Destiny her course should change; 100 just But he hath overleaped the eternal bars;
To his owo native greatness to desire And, following guides whose craft holds no consent
That wretched boon, days lengthened by mistrust. With auclit that brcatbes the ethereal element,
So were the hopeless troubles, that involved Hath stained the robes of civil power with blood, The soul of Dion, instautly dissolved. Unjustly shed, though for the public good.
Released from life and cares of princely state, Whence doubts that came too late, and wishes vain, lle left this moral crafted on his Fate, Hollow excuses, and triumphant pain;
« Him only pleasure leads, and peace attends, And oft his cogitations sink as low
Him, only him, the shield of Jove defends, As, through the abysses of a joyless heart,
Wlose means are fair and spotless as his ends. »
He lears an uncouth sound
A pen-10 register; a key-
That winds through secret wards;
Are well assiqued to Memory
Riy allegoric Cards.