At wakes and fairs with wandering mountebanks,[and mocks When she stands cresting the clown's head, The crowd beneath her. Verily I think, Such place to me is sometimes like a dream Or map of the whole world: thoughts, link by link, [gleam Enter through ears and eyesight, with such Of all things, that at last in fear I shrink, And leap at once from the delicious stream. PERSONAL TALK. I. I AM not one who much or oft delight Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow. There find I personal themes, a plenteous store; Matter wherein right voluble I am : IV. NOR can I not believe but that hereby Great gains are mine; for thus I live remote From evil-speaking; rancour, never sought, Comes to me not: malignant truth, or lie. Hence have I genial seasons, hence have I Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and. joyous thought: And thus from day to day my little boat Rocks in its harbour, lodging peaceably. Blessings be with them--and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves and nobler caresThe poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays! Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days. In wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air, Erroneously renewing a sad vow In the low dell 'mid Roslin's faded grove : FAIR prime of life! were it enough to gild With ready sunbeams every straggling shower; tilled And, if an unexpected cloud should lower, Swiftly thereon a rainbow arch to build For fancy's errands,—then, from fields half[flower, Gathering green weeds to mix with poppy Thee might thy minions crown, and chant thy power, Unpitied by the wise, all censure stilled. Fair prime of life! arouse the deeper heart: I HEARD (alas! 'twas only in a dream) Strains-which, as sage antiquity believed, By waking ears have sometimes been re ceived Wafted adown the wind from lake or stream; Of the dull earth partakes not, nor desires? She soared-and I awoke,-struggling in From thy remonstrance would be no appeal! But to promote and fortify the weal Of our own being, is her paramount end; A truth which they alone shall comprehend Who shut the mischief which they cannot heal. [bliss ; Peace in these feverish times is sovereign Here, with no thirst but what the stream can slake, And startled only by the rustling brake, Cool air I breathe; while the unincumbered mind, By some weak aims at services assigned To gentle natures, thanks not heaven amiss. TO THE MEMORY OF RAISLEY CALVERT. CALVERT ! it must not be unheard by them demn [stem : That I, if frugal and severe, might stray Thy youth to hopeless wasting, root and Where'er I liked; and finally array My temples with the muse's diadem. Hence, if in freedom I have loved the truth, If there be aught of pure, or good, or great, In my past verse; or shall be, in the lays Of higher mood, which now I meditate,It gladdens me, O worthy, short-lived youth! To think how much of this will be thy praise. To struggle through dark ways; and when Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew Soul-animating strains-alas, too few! NOT love, nor war, nor the tumultuous swell Of civil conflict, nor the wrecks of change, Nor duty struggling with afflictions strange, And so the bright immortal Theban band, Whom onset, fiercely urged at Jove's command, Might overwhelm-but could not separate! THE stars are mansions built by nature's hand; The sun is peopled; and with spirits blest, Say, can the gentle moon be unpossest? Huge ocean shows, within his yellow strand, A habitation marvellously planned, For life to occupy in love and rest; All that we see is dome, or vault, or nest, Or fort, erected at her sage command. Is this a vernal thought? Even so, the spring [heart, Gave it while cares were weighing on my 'Mid song of birls, and insects mumuring And while the youthful year's prolific art-Of bud, leaf, blade, and flower-was fashioning Abodes, where self-disturbance hath no part. TO LADY BEAUMONT. LADY! the songs of spring were in the grove [flowers; While I was shaping beds for winter While I was planting green unfading bowers, wove And shrubs to hang upon the warm alcove, Be gracious as the music and the bloom TO THE LADY MARY LOWTHER, With a selection from the poems of Anne, Countess of Winchelsea; and extracts of similar character from other writers; transcribed by a female friend. LADY! I rifled a Parnassian cave Her spotless limbs; and ventured to explore Dim shades-for reliques, upon Lethe's shore, Cast up at random by the sullen wave. To female hands the treasures were resigned; [clear And lo this work!-a grotto bright and From stain or taint; in which thy blameless mind [austere ; May feed on thoughts though pensive not Or, if thy deeper spirit be inclined To holy musing, it may enter here. There is a pleasure in poetic pains When happiest fancy has inspired the strains, Bright, speckless as a softly-moulded tear THE shepherd, looking eastward, softly [bright!" said, Bright is thy veil, O moon, as thou art Forthwith, that little cloud, in ether spread, And penetrated all with tender light, She cast away, and showed her fulgent head Uncovered; dazzling the beholder's sight As if to vindicate her beauty's right, Her beauty thoughtlessly disparaged. Meanwhile that veil, removed or thrown aside, [went ; Went floating from her, darkening as it And a huge mass, to bury or to hide, Approached the glory of this firmament; Who meekly yields, and is obscured; On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower | Of a dark chamber where the mighty sleep: Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him climb'st the sky, "How silently, and with how wan a face!" Where art thou? Thou whom I have seen on high [rac ! Running among the clouds a wood-nymph's Unhappy nuns, whose common breath's a sigh [pace! Which they would stifle, move at such a The northern wind, to call thee to the chase, Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had power of Merlin, goddess! this should be · [riven, And the keen stars, fast as the clouds were Should sally forth, an emulous company, Sparkling, and hurrying through the clear [given, But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be Queen both for beauty and for majesty. The blue heaven; EVEN as the dragon's eye that feels the stress So burns yon taper 'mid a black recess MARK the concentred hazels that inclose Yon old gray stone, protected from the ray Of noontide suns : and even the beams that play [blows, And glance, while wantonly the rough wind Are seldom free to touch the moss that grows Upon that roof-amid embowering gloom The very image framing of a tomb, In which some ancient chieftain finds repose Among the lonely mountains.-Live, ye trees! [keep And thou, gray stone, the pensive likeness Far more than fancy to the influence bends |