Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky, Still seem, as to my childhood's sight, For happy spirits to alight, Betwixt the earth and heaven. Can all that optics teach, unfold Thy form to please me so, As when I dreamed of gems and gold When Science from Creation's face 5 10 What lovely visions yield their place 15 And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams, Q 20 When o'er the green undeluged earth, How came the world's gray fathers forth 50 Nor lets the type grow pale with age, Thomas Campbell. CLXXVI THE COMMON LOT. Once, in the flight of ages past, There lived a man:-and WHO was HE?- That Man resembled thee. Unknown the region of his birth, The land in which he died unknown : That joy and grief, and hope and fear, The bounding pulse, the languid limb, He suffered, but his pangs are o'er; Had friends, his friends are now no more; 20 He loved, but whom he loved, the grave Oh she was fair!-but nought could save He saw whatever thou hast seen; The rolling seasons, day and night, Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and main, 30 To him exist in vain. The eye that contemplates it well perceives Ordered by an Intelligence so wise, As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen Wrinkled and keen; No grazing cattle through their prickly round But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, I love to view these things with curious eyes, And in this wisdom of the Holly Tree Can emblems see, Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, 5 10 15 Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear Harsh and austere; To those who on my leisure would intrude, Reserved and rude; Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, Like the high leaves upon the Holly Tree. 20 And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, 25 All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be 30 And as when all the summer trees are seen So bright and green, The Holly leaves a sober hue display Less bright than they; But when the bare and wintry woods we see, 35 So serious should my youth appear among So would I seem amid the young and gay That in my age as cheerful I might be Robert Southey. CLXXVIII A DREAM. Once a dream did weave a shade O'er my angel-guarded bed, That an emmet lost its way Where on grass methought I lay. |