MOLES. -THEY shrink in, as Moles (Nature's mute monks, live mandrakes of the ground) Creep back from Light-then listen for its sound:See but to dread, and dread they know not whyThe natural alien of their negative eye. THE VISIT OF THE GODS. IMITATED FROM SCHILLER. EVER, believe me, NE Appear the Immortals, Never alone: Scarce had I welcomed the sorrow-beguiler, How shall I yield you Due entertainment, [buoyance, Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of up- O fill me the bowl! Give him the nectar! [soul! Pour out for the poet, Quicken his eyes with celestial dew, That Styx the detested no more he may view, ELEGY, IMITATED FROM ONE OF AKENSIDE'S BLANKVERSE INSCRIPTIONS. N EAR the lone pile with ivy overspread, Fast by the rivulet's sleep-persuading sound, Where "sleeps the moonlight" on yon verdant bedO humbly press that consecrated ground! For there does Edmund rest, the learned swain! And there his spirit most delights to rove: Young Edmund! famed for each harmonious strain, And the sore wounds of ill-requited love. Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide, And loads the west-wind with its soft perfume, His manhood blossomed: till the faithless pride Of fair Matilda sank him to the tomb. But soon did righteous Heaven her guilt pursue! P With keen regret, and conscious guilt's alarms, Go, Traveller! tell the tale with sorrow fraught: A SEPARATION. SWORDED man whose trade is blood, The dazzling charm of outward form, The power of gold, the pride of birth, Is not true Love of higher price O! Asra, Asra! couldst thou see (This separation is, alas! Too great a punishment to bear; O! take my life, or let me pass The perils, erst with steadfast eye ON TAKING LEAVE OF 1817. O know, to esteem, to love-and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart! O for some dear abiding-place of Love, O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove, The forms of memory all my mental food, And dream of you, sweet sisters, (ah, not mine!) And only dream of you (ah dream and pine!) Than have the presence, and partake the pride, And shine in the eye of all the world beside! THE PANG MORE SHARP THAN ALL. AN ALLEGORY. I. E too has flitted from his secret nest, Н Hope's last and dearest child without a name !Has flitted from me, like the warmthless flame, That makes false promise of a place of rest See Note at the end of the Volume. To the tired Pilgrim's still believing mind;- II. Yes! He hath flitted from me-with what aim, As the dear hopes, that swell the mother's breast- III. Like a loose blossom on a gusty night He flitted from me-and has left behind : Two playmates, twin-births of his foster-dame :- So like him, that almost she seemed the same! |