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Haunt the encincture night and day, and work
In unison, by mellowness and grace
Perfecting the maturity of age-
Sunshine, and rain, and dews, and frosts, and winds :
Nay, he is rash who says there cannot be
Regeneration in the thunder-stroke;
Although it dashed yon column from its base;
For all things work together for good ends.
Enough: for now a joyful summons came
To a repast our trusty muleteer
Had in the shadow of a column spread.
Which ended, through the day's concluding hours,
Requited to the utmost, near the spot
Careless we lingered, and conversed, and thought
With hearts untravelled on those far

away.
But now 'twas sunset: and our wary guide
Urged our departure. Little did he feel
The glories of the scene: but well he knew
Romance in certain spots at certain hours
Will walk with hidden mischief hand in hand.
So we descended to the rugged vale
Not slowly, casting yet some looks behind;
And for Calatafime shaped our road.

April, 1844.

SELINUNTUM.

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FOR the painter's art to bear away

Piecemeal these wondrous relics! He can throw Credence about the incredible, and take The understanding, by the nearest way, The eye. How may the

pen portray this scene ? Vainly you tell me men of pith like ours Chiselled these awful masses : I have seen The wild goat browse on crags far less: say rather, In the beginning when these temples rose, Their scale was planned by giant intellects, And wrought upon by giants. Wheresoever A fragment of a column stands upright, This side how bright, on that what depth of shade! It stands a very tower; and he that climbs, Paces it like a warder to and fro; Then in some fluting stands he sentinel; Or in a hollow triglyph lies concealed. As mountaineers would scale a precipice, Let us explore the savage heap of ruin

That occupies the centre. Is it not
The arch-mockery of confusion? Yet we know
What choice variety of dainty terms
And designations of the builder's art
Might be expended on these fearful blocks,
That slope edgeways, or lie reversed, or prone,
With intertwisted grass, and shrubs, and ferns;
Or perilously poised, as it should seem,
Yet hang immoveable, and form black caves
Beneath, where with the toad, and breeding snake,
Blood-thirsty corsairs have in ambush lain ;
And with loud oaths, and brandished scimitars,
Surprised the traveller to chains or death.

The battering engine, or the sulphurous mine, War, such as mortals wage, could ne'er achieve Such havoc. The great globe itself unhinged In pendulous vibration must have reeled, Swung from its inoffensive axle, then Nor sure, nor firmset: and in their despair, They of the city, mighty men of old, Not to the rocks and hills for shelter cried, But to their columns and entablatures, And said—“Fall on us, hide us from the wrath To come!” Now not a dewdrop on the corn

Ripening around, or the wild parsley-weed,
In the still morning sunshine stirs : the lark
Unseen hangs over all, a downward flood
Showering of melody.

April, 1844.

SONNET.-GIRGENTI.

“ Arduus inde Acragas ostentat maxima longe Mônia, magnanimùm quondam generator equorum.”

Æn. iii. 703.

I JOURNEY on, and ponder

, and admire

Wonders that come so thick they make defeat Of fancy; but I touch Girgenti's seat Sublime, and cannot choose but strike the lyre. High midst the fanes which here in ruins lie, Erst dedicate to the Olympian Sire, And the swart Deity who wrought in fire, And Hercules, and Leda's progeny ; Unscathed by time, thy temple, Concord, stands, With the last touch of Grecian artists' hands Yet visible: and this enchanting tone Of living foliage gracing mellow stone, Shows concord here surviving: may her ray Shine through the world at large some blessed day!

April, 1844.

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