When our Shepherd, in his power,

Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,
To his ancestors restored,

Like a re-appearing Star,

Like a glory from afar,

First shall head the flock of war!"

Alas! the fervent harper did not know
That for a tranquil soul the lay was framed,
Who, long compelled in humble walks to go,
Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.

Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

In him the savage virtue of the Race,
Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead:
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.

Glad were the vales, and every cottage-hearth; The Shepherd lord was honoured more and

more:

And, ages after he was laid in earth,

"The good Lord Clifford" was the name he

bore.

CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD
THREE YEARS OLD.

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,
Not less if unattended and alone

Than when both young and old sit gathered round

And take delight in its activity,

Even so this happy Creature of herself
Is all-sufficient; solitude to her

Is blithe society, who fills the air

With gladness and involuntary songs.
Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's
Forth-startled from the fern where she lay
couched ;

Unthought of, unexpected, as the stir

Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow-flowers;
Or from before it chasing wantonly

The many-coloured images impressed
Upon the bosom of a placid lake.

LAODAMIA.

"WITH sacrifice before the rising morn Performed, my slaughtered Lord have I re

quired;

And in thick darkness, amid shades forlorn,
Him of the infernal Gods have I desired:
Celestial pity I again implore ;-

Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!"

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands;

While, like the sun emerging from a cloud, Her countenance brightens-and her eye expands ;

Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows;

And she expects the issue in repose.

O terror! what hath she perceived?-O joy! What doth she look on ?-whom doth she behold?

Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence-his corporeal mould?
It is if sense deceive her not-'tis he!
And a God leads him—wingèd Mercury!

Mild Hermes spake—and touched her with his wand

That calms all fear: "Such grace hath crowned

thy prayer,

Laodamìa! that at Jove's command

Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air: He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space;

Accept the gift-behold him face to face!"

Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp !

Again that consummation she essayed;
But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp
As often as that eager grasp was made.
The Phantom parts-but parts to reunite,
And re-assume his place before her sight.

"Protesilàus, lo! thy guide is gone!
Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice:
This is our palace,―yonder is thy throne:
Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will
rejoice.

Not to appal me have the gods bestowed
This precious boon,-and blest a sad abode."

"Great Jove, Laodamia! doth not leave
His gifts imperfect :-spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
But in reward of thy fidelity.

And something also did my worth obtain;
For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

"Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand

Should die; but me the threat could not withhold:

A generous cause a victim did demand ;
And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain;
A self-devoted chief-by Hector slain."

"Supreme of Heroes-bravest, noblest, best! Thy matchless courage I bewail no more, Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest

By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore; Thou found'st-and I forgive thee-here thou

art

A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

"But thou, though capable of sternest deed, Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave; And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed

That thou shouldst cheat the malice of the grave;

Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair

As when their breath enriched Thessalian

air.

"No Spectre greets me,-no vain Shadow