Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,
On winding lakes and rivers wide,

That ask no aid of sail or oar,

That fear no spite of wind or tide!.

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Nought cared this body for wind or weather

When Youth and I lived in't together.

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;

O! the joys, that came down shower-like,
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,

Ere I was old!

Ere I was old? - Ah, woeful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet,
'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit
It cannot be that thou art gone!
Thy Vesper-bell hath not yet tolled:-
And thou wert aye a masker bold!
What strange disguise hast now put on,
To make believe, that thou art gone?

I see these locks in silvery slips,
This drooping gait, this altered size:
But Springtide blossoms on thy lips,
And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!
Life is but thought: so think I will
That Youth and I are housemates still.

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25

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Dewdrops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
Where no hope is, life's a warning
That only serves to make us grieve,

When we are old:

That only serves to make us grieve
With oft and tedious taking-leave,
Like some poor nigh-related guest,
That may not rudely be dismist;

Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while,
And tells the jest without the smile.

ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION

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Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,

The linnet, and thrush, say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent the wind is so strong.
What it says I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm

weather,

And singing, and loving all come back together.

But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and forever sings he -
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"

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10

SONNET

TO THE RIVER OTTER

DEAR native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have passed,

What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast,
Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep imprest 5
Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes
I never shut amid the sunny ray,

But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey,

And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, 10 Gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my

way,

Visions of Childhood! oft have ye beguiled

Lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs:
Ah! that once more I were a careless child.

FRANCE: AN ODE

YE Clouds! that far above me float and pause,
Whose pathless march no mortal may control!
Ye Ocean-Waves! that, wheresoe'er ye roll,
Yield homage only to eternal laws!

Ye Woods! that listen to the night-birds singing,
Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclined,
Save when your own imperious branches swinging,

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Have made a solemn music of the wind!

Where, like a man beloved of God,

Through glooms which never woodman trod,
How oft, pursuing fancies holy,

My moonlight way o'er flowering weeds I wound,

Inspired, beyond the guess of folly,

By each rude shape and wild unconquerable sound!
O ye loud Waves! and O ye Forests high!

And O ye Clouds that far above me soared!
Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky!
Yea, everything that is and will be free!

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Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be,
With what deep worship I have still adored
The spirit of divinest Liberty.

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II

When France in wrath her giant-limbs upreared,

And with that oath, which smote air, earth, and sea, Stamped with her strong foot and said she would

be free,

Bear witness for me, how I hoped and feared!
With what a joy my lofty gratulation

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Unawed I sang, amid a slavish band:

And when to whelm the disenchanted nation,
Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand,
The Monarchs marched in evil day,

And Britains joined the dire array; Though dear her shores and circling ocean,

Though many friendships, many youthful loves,
Had swol'n the patriot emotion,

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And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves; 35 Yet still my voice, unaltered, sang defeat,

To all that braved the tyrant-quelling lance,
And shame too long delayed and vain retreat!
For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim

I dimmed thy light or damped thy holy flame;
But blessed the pæans of delivered France,
And hung my head and wept at Britain's name.

III

'And what,' I said, 'though Blasphemy's loud scream With that sweet music of deliverance strove!

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Though all the fierce and drunken passions wove 45 A dance more wild than e'er was maniac's dream! Ye storms, that round the dawning east assembled, The Sun was rising, though ye hid his light!'

And when, to soothe my soul, that hoped and

trembled,

The dissonance ceased, and all seemed calm and

bright;

When France her front deep-scarr'd and gory
Concealed with clustering wreaths of glory;

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When, insupportably advancing,

Her arm made mockery of the warrior's ramp;
While timid looks of fury glancing,

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Domestic treason, crushed beneath her fatal stamp,

Writhed like a wounded dragon in his gore;

Then I reproached my fears that would not flee; 'And soon,' I said, 'shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan!

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