Unlawful, ever.

O be wiser, Thou!

Instructed that true knowledge leads to love,
True dignity abides with him alone
Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
Can still suspect, and still revere himself,
In lowliness of heart.

THE FOUNTAIN.

WE talk'd with open heart and tongue
Affectionate and true,

A pair of Friends, though I was young,
And Matthew seventy-two.

We lay beneath a spreading oak,

Beside a mossy seat;

And from the turf a fountain broke,

And gurgled at our feet.

"Now, Matthew!" said I, "let us match

This water's pleasant tune

With some old Border-song, or Catch,

That suits a summer's noon.

Or of the Church-clock and the chimes
Sing here beneath the shade,

That half-mad thing of witty rhymes
Which you last April made!"

In silence Matthew lay and eyed
The spring beneath the tree;
And thus the dear old man replied,
The grey-haired man of glee:

"Down to the vale this water steers, How merrily it goes!

'Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows.

And here, on this delightful day,
I cannot choose but think

How oft, a vigorous man, I lay
Beside this Fountain's brink.

My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirr'd,

For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.

Thus fares it still in our decay :

And yet the wiser mind

Mourns less for what age takes away

Than what it leaves behind.

The Blackbird in the summer trees,

The Lark upon the hill,

Let loose their carols when they please,

Are quiet when they will.

With Nature never do they wage

A foolish strife; they see

A happy youth, and their old age
Is beautiful and free:

But we are press'd by heavy laws;
And often, glad no more,

We wear a face of joy, because
yore.

We have been glad of

If there is one who need bemoan
His kindred laid in earth,

The household hearts that were his own,
It is the man of mirth."

TRUST IN THE SAVIOUR.

NOT seldom, clad in radiant vest,
Deceitfully goes forth the Morn;
Not seldom Evening in the west
Sinks smilingly forsworn.

The smoothest seas will sometimes prove, To the confiding Bark, untrue;

And if she trust the stars above,

They can be treacherous too.

The umbrageous Oak, in pomp outspread,
Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,
Draws lightning down upon the head
It promised to defend.

But Thou art true, incarnate Lord!
Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;
Thy smile is sure, thy plighted word
No change can falsify!

I bent before thy gracious throne,
And ask'd for peace with suppliant knee;

-nor peace alone,

And peace was given,

But faith, and hope, and ecstacy!

ON THE DEATH OF HIS LATE MAJESTY.

WARD of the Law !-dread Shadow of a King! Whose Realm had dwindled to one stately room; Whose universe was gloom immersed in gloom, Darkness as thick as Life o'er Life could fling, Yet haply cheer'd with some faint glimmering Of Faith and Hope; if thou, by nature's doom, Gently hast sunk into the quiet tomb,

Why should we bend in grief, to sorrow cling, When thankfulness were best ?-Fresh-flowing

tears,

Or, where tears flow not, sigh succeeding sigh, Yield to such after-thought the sole reply Which justly it can claim. The Nation hears In this deep knell-silent for threescore years, An unexampled voice of awful memory!

LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THAT THE DEATH OF FOX WAS HOURLY EXPECTED.

LOUD is the Vale! the Voice is up

With which she speaks when storms are gone, A mighty Unison of streams!

Of all her Voices One!

Loud is the Vale ;-this inland Depth

In peace is roaring like the Sea;

Yon Star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

Sad was I, even to pain depressed,
Importunate and heavy load !*
The Comforter hath found me here,
Upon this lonely road;

And many thousands now are sad-
Wait the fulfilment of their fear;
For he must die who is their stay,
Their glory disappear.

A power is passing from the earth
To breathless Nature's dark abyss ;
But when the Mighty pass away
What is it more than this,

That Man, who is from God sent forth,
Doth yet again to God return ?—
Such ebb and flow must ever be:
Then wherefore should we mourn ?

EXTRACT FROM THE CUMBERLAND
BEGGAR.

BUT deem not this Man useless.-Statesmen ! ye
Who are so restless in your wisdom, ye

Who have a broom still ready in your hands
To rid the world of nuisances; ye proud,
Heart-swoln, while in your pride ye contemplate
Your talents, power, and wisdom, deem him not
A burthen of the earth! 'Tis Nature's law

* Importuna e grave salma.-MICHAEL ANGELO.