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The fern was press'd beneath her hair,

She listen'd to the tale divine, The dark-green Adder's Tongue* was there; And closer still the Babe she press'd; And still as past the flagging sea-gale weak,

And while she cried, the Babe is mine! The long lank leaf bow'd fluttering o'er her cheek. The milk rush'd faster to her breast :

Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn; Chat pallid cheek was flush'd : her eager look Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born Beam'd eloquent in slumber! Inly wrought, Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook,

Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace, And her bent forehead work'd with troubled

Poor, simple, and of low estate! thought.

That Strife should vanish, Battle cease,
Strange was the dream-

O why should this thy soul elate?
Sweet Music's loudest note, the Poet's story,-

Did'st thou ne'er love to hear of Fame and Glory?
TELL'S BIRTH-PLACE.

And is not War a youthful King,
IMITATED FROM STOLBERG.

A stately Hero clad in mail ?
Mark this holy chapel well!

Beneath his footsteps laurels spring ;
The Birth-place, this, of William Tell.

Him Earth's majestic monarchs hail Here, where stands God's altar droad,

Their Friend, their Play-mate! and his bold bright eye Stood his parents' marriage-bed.

Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh Here first, an infant to her breast,

“Tell this in some more courtly scene, Him his loving mother prest;

To maids and youths in robes of state ! And kiss'd the babe, and bless'd the day,

I am a woman poor and mean, And pray'd as mothers use 10 pray :

And therefore is my Soul elate.

War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled, “ Vouchsafe him health, O God, and give

That from the aged Father tears his Child !
The Child thy servant still to live !"
But God has destined to do more
Through him, than through an armed power. “ A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,

He kills the Sire and starves the Son ;
God gave him reverence of laws,

The Husband kills, and from her board Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause

Steals all his Widow's toil had won ; A spirit to his rocks akin,

Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away The eye of the Hawk, and the fire therein! All safety from the Night, all comfort from the Day

To Nature and to Holy writ
Alone did God the boy commit:
Where flash'd and roar'd the torrent, oft
His soul found wings, and soar'd aloft!
The straining oar and chamois chase
Had form’d his limbs to strength and grace:
On wave and wind the boy would toss,
Was great, nor knew how great he was !

“ Then wisely is my soul elate,

That Strife should vanish, Battle cease :
I'm poor and of a low estate,

The Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn:
Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born!"

He knew not that his chosen hand,
Made strong by God, his native land
Would rescue from the shameful yoke
Of Slavery—the which he broke!

HUMAN LIFE,

ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY

If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare THE Shepherds went their hasty way,

As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
And found the lowly stable-shed

Whose sound and motion not alone declare,
Where the Virgin-Mother lay:

But are their whole of being! If the Breath

Be Life itself, and not its task and tent,
And now they check'd their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung,

If even a soul like Milton's can know death,

O Man! thou vessel, purposeless, unmeant, A Mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.

Yet drone-hive strange of phantom purposes !
They told her how a glorious light,

Surplus of Nature's dread activity,
Streaming from a heavenly throng,

Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finish'd vase, Around them shone, suspending night!

Retreating slow, with meditative pause,
While, sweeter than a Mother's song,

She form'd with restless hands unconsciously! Blest Angels heralded the Savior's birth,

Blank accident! nothing's anomaly! Glory to God on high! and peace on Earth.

If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state,

Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy Hopes, thy Fears, A botanical nestake. The plant which the poet bere de- The counter-weights !—Thy Laughter and thy Tears scribes is called the Hart's Tongue.

Mean but themselves, each fittest to create,

And to repay the other! Why rejoices

But soon did righteous Heaven her guilt pursue! Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good ? Where'er with wilder'd steps she wander'd pale.

Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner's hood, Still Edmund's image rose to blast her view,
Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices, Still Edmund's voice accused her in each gale.

Image of image, Ghost of Ghostly Elf,
That such a thing as thou feel'st warm or cold ! With keen regret, and conscious guilt's alarms,
Yet what and whence thy gain if thou withhold Amid the pomp of affluence she pined:

These costless shadows of thy shadowy self? Nor all that lured her faith from Edmund's arms Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun!

Could lull the wakeful horror of her mind.
Thou hast no reason why! Thou canst have none :
Thy being's being is contradiction.

Go, Traveller! tell the tale with sorrow fraught

Some tearful maid, perchance, or blooming youth
May hold it in remembrance; and be taught

That Riches cannot pay for Love or Trutn.
THE VISIT OF THE GODS.

IMITATED FROM SCHILLER.

NEVER, believe me,

KUBLA KHAN;
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone :

OR, A VISION IN A DREAM.
Scarce had I welcomed the Sorrow-beguiler,
Iacchus! but in came Boy Cupid the Smiler;

[The following fragment is here published at the request of a Lo! Phoebus the Glorious descends from his Throne! poet of great and deserved celebrity, and, as far as the Author's They advance, they float in, the Olympians all! own opinions are concerned, rather as a psychological curiosity, With Divinities fills my

than on the ground of any supposed poetic merits. Terrestrial Hall !

In the summer of the year 1797, the Author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farm-houge between Porlock and Linton,

on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In conHow shall I yield you

sequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne bad been preDue entertainment,

scribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at Celestial Quire ?

the moment that he was reading the following sentence, or Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of up Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a

words of the same substance, in Purchas's “ Pilgrimage :". buoyance

stately garden thereunto; and thus ten miles of fertile ground Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets of joyance, were inclosed with a wall.” The author continued for abou' That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre! .

three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external genses, Ha! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my Soul! during which time he has the most vivid confidence that he could

not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines; if

that indeed can be called composition in which all the images O give me the Nectar!

rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the O fill me the Bowl!

correspondent expressions, without any sensation, or conscious Give him the Nectar!

ness of effort. On awaking he appeared to himself to have a

distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and Pour out for the Poet,

paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here Hebe! pour free!

preserved. At this moment he was unfortunately called out by Quicken his eyes with celestial dew,

a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above That Styx the detested no more he may view,

an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small

surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some And like one of us Gods may conceit him to be!

vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Io Pæan, I cry!

yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and The Wine of the Immortals

images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the Forbids me to die!

surface of a stream into which a stone had been cast, but, alas!
without the after restoration of the latter.

Then all the charm
Is broken-all that phantom-world so fair

Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread,
ELEGY,

And ench misshapes the other. Stay awhile,
Poor youth! who scarcely darest lift up thine eyes

The stream will soon renew its smoothness, soon
IMITATED FROM ONE OF AKENSIDE'S BLANK VERSE

The visions will return! And lo, he stays,
INSCRIPTIONS.

And soon the fragments dim of lovely forins

Come trembling back, unite, and now once more Near the lone pile with ivy overspread,

The pool becomes a mirror. Fast by the rivulet's sleep-persuading sound,

Yet from the still surviving recollections in his mind, the Autho Where "sleeps the moonlight” on yon verdant bed has frequently purposed to finish for himself what had been O humbly press that consecrated ground ! originally, as it were, given to him. Eapepov adiev aow.

but the to-morrow is yet to come. For there does Edmund rest, the learned swain!

As a contrast to this vision, I have annexed a fragment of a And there his spirit most delights to rove:

very different character, describing with equal fidelity tho

dream of pain and disease. Note to the first Edition, 1916.) Young Edmund! famed for each harmonious strain, And the sore wounds of ill-requited love.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide, A stately pleasure-dome decree;

And loads the west-wind with its soft perfume, Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
His manhood blossom'd : till the faithless pride Through caverns measureless to man,
Of fair Matilda sank him to the tomb.

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

Since in me, round me, everywhere,
With walls and towers were girdled round: Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.
And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossom'd many an incense-bearing tree; But yester-night I pray'd aloud
And here were forests ancient as the hills,

In anguish and in agony,
Infolding sunny spots of greenery.

Up-starting from the fiendish crowd

Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me :
But oh that deep romantic chasm which slanted lurid light, a trampling throng,
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! Sense of intolerable wrong,
A savage place! as holy and enchanted

And whom I scorn'd, those only strong!
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted Thirst of revenge, the powerless will
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

Still baffled, and yet burning still! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seeth Desire with lothing strangely mix'd, ing,

On wild or hateful objects fix'd.
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl!
A mighty fountain momently was forced :

And shame and terror over all!
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Deeds to be hid which were not hid,
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Which all confused I could not know,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: Whether I suffer'd, or I did :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever For all seem'd guilt, remorse, or woe,
It flung up momently the sacred river.

My own or others', still the same
Five miles, meandering with a mazy motion, Life-stifling fear, soul-stilling shame.
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man, So two rights pass'd: the night's dismay
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

Sadden'd and stunn'd the coming day.
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Sleep, the wide blessing, seem'd to me
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

Distemper's worst calamity.

The third night, when my own loud scream The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Had waked me from the fiendish dream,
Floated midway on the waves;

O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
Where was heard the mingled measure I wept as I had been a child ;
From the fountain and the caves.

And having thus by tears subdued
It was a miracle of rare device,

My anguish to a milder mood, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

Such punishments, I said, were due A damsel with a dulcimer"

To natures deepliest staind with sin. In a vision once I saw :

For aye entempesting anew It was an Abyssinian maid,

The unfathomable hell within, And on her dulcimer she play'd,

The horror of their deeds to view, Singing of Mount A bora.

To know and lothe, yet wish and do! Could I revive within me

Such griefs with such men well agree,
Her symphony and song,

But wherefore, wherefore fall on me?
To such a deep delight 't would win me, To be beloved is all I need,
That with music loud and long,

And whom I love, I love indeed.
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !

APPENDIX.
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey.dew hath fed

APOLOGETIC PREFACE
And drank the milk of Paradise.

TO "FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER."

[See page 26)

At the house of a gentleman, who by the principles THE PAINS OF SLEEP.

and corresponding virtues of a sincere Christian con

secrates a cultivated genius and the favorable acciEre on my bed my limbs I lay,

dents of birth, opulence, and splendid connexions, it It hath not been my use to pray

was my good fortune to meet, in a dinner-party, with With moving lips or bended knees;

more men of celebrity in science or polite literature, But silently, by slow degrees,

than are commonly found collected round the same My spirit I to Love compose,

table. In the course of conversation, one of the par. In humble Trust mine eye-lids close,

ty reminded an illustrious Poet, then present, of some With reverential resignation,

verses which he had recited that morning, and which No wish conceived, no thought expressid ! had appeared in a newspaper under the name of a Only a sense of supplication,

War-Eclogue, in which Fire, Famine, and Slaughter A sense o'er all my soul imprest

were introduced as the speakers. The gentleman so That I am weak, yet not unblest,

addressed replied, that he was rather surprised that

none of us should have noticed or heard of the poem, and strengthens it. But the more intense and insane
as it had been, at the time, a good deal talked of in the passion is, the fewer and the more fixed are the
Scotland. It may be easily supposed, that my feel- correspondent forms and notions. A rooted hatred
ings were at this moment not of the most comforta- an inveterate thirst of revenge, is a sort of madness,
ble kind. Of all present, one only knew or suspect- and still eddies round its favorite object, and exer-
ed me to be the author: a man who would have cises as it were a perpetual tautology of mind in
established himself in the first rank of England's thoughts and words, which admit of no adequate
living Poets, if the Genius of our country had not substitutes. Like a fish in a globe of glass, it moves
decreed that he should rather be the first in the first restlessly round and round the scanty circumference,
rank of its Philosophers and scientific Benefactors. which it cannot leave without losing its vital ele.
It appeared the general wish to hear the lines. As my ment.
friend chose to remain silent, I chose to follow his There is a second character of such imaginary
example, and Mr. ***** recited the Poem. This he representations as spring from a real and earnest de-
could do with the better grace, being known to have sire of evil to another, which we often see in real
ever been not only a firm and active Anti-Jacobin and life, and might even anticipate from the nature of
Anti-Gallican, but likewise a zealous admirer of Mr. the mind. The images, I mean, that a vindictive
Piti, both as a good man and a great Statesman. As man places before his imagination, will most ofien be
a Poet exclusively, he had been amused with the taken from the realities of life: they will be images
Eclogue; as a Poet, he recited it; and in a spirit, of pain and suffering which he has himself seen in-
which made it evident, that he would have read and flicted on other men, and which he can fancy him.
repeated it with the same pleasure, had his own self as inflicting on the object of his hatred. I will
name been attached to the imaginary object or agent. suppose that we had heard at different times two

After the recitation, our amiable host observed, common sailors, each speaking of some one who had that in his opinion Mr. ***** had overrated the merits wronged or offended him: that the first with appaof the poetry; but had they been tenfold greater, rent violence had devoted every part of his adversathey could not have compensated for that malignity ry's body and soul to all the horrid phantoms and of heart, which could alone have prompted senti- fantastic places that ever Quevedo dreamt of, and ments so atrocious. I perceived that my illustrious this in a rapid flow of those outré and wildly-comfriend became greatly distressed on my account; but bined execrations, which too often with our lower fortunately I was able to preserve fortitude and press classes serve for escape-valves to carry off the excess ence of mind enough to take up the subject without of their passions, as so much superfluous steam that exciting even a suspicion how nearly and painfully would endanger the vessel if it were retained. The it interested me.

other, on the contrary, with that sort of calmness of What follows, is substantially the same as I then tone which is to the ear what the paleness of anger replied, but dilated and in language less colloquial. is to the eye, shall simply say, "If I chance to be It was not my intention, I said, to justify the publi- made boatswain, as I hope I soon shall, and can but cation, whatever its author's feelings might have once get that fellow under my hand (and I shall be been at the time of composing it. That they are upon the watch for him), l'll tickle his pretty skin! calculated to call forth so severe a reprobation from I wont hurt him! oh no! I'll only cut the a good man, is not the worst feature of such poems. the liver!" I dare appeal to all present, which of the Their moral deformity is aggravated in proportion to two they would regard as the least deceptive sympthe pleasure which they are capable of affording tom of deliberate malignity ? nay, whether it would to vindictive, turbulent, and unprincipled readers. surprise them to see the first fellow, an hour or two Could it be supposed, though for a moment, that the afterward, cordially shaking hands with the pery author seriously wished what he had thus wildly im- man, the fractional parts of whose body and sout he agined, even the attempt to palliate an inhumanity so had been so charitably disposing of; or even perhaps monstrous would be an insult to the hearers. But it risking his life for him. What language Shakspeare seemed to me worthy of consideration, whether the considered characteristic of malignant disposition, we mood of mind, and the general state of sensations, see in the speech of the good-natured Gratiano, who in which a Poet produces such vivid and fantastic spoke “an infinite deal of nothing more than any images, is likely to coexist, or is even compatible, man in all Venice ;" with that gloomy and deliberate ferocity which a serious wish to realize them would presuppose. It

-Too wild, too rude and bold of voice ! had been often observed, and all my experience the skipping spirit, whose thoughts and words recip tended to confirm the observation, that prospects of rocally ran away with each other ; pain and evil to others, and, in general, all deep feel. ings of revenge, are commonly expressed in a few

O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog' words, ironically tame, and mild. The mind under

And for thy life let justice be accused! so direful and fiend-like an influence seems to take a and the wild fancies that follow, contrasted with Shy. morbid pleasure in contrasting the intensity of its lock's tranquil “ I stand here for law." wishes and feelings, with the slightness or levity of Or, to take a case more analogous to the present the expressions by which they are hinted; and in- subject, should we hold it either fair or charitable 10 deed feelings so intense and solitary, if they were believe it to have been Dante's serious wish, that all not precluded (as in almost all cases they would be) the persons mentioned by him, (many recently deby a constitutional activity of fancy and association, parted, and some even alive at the time), should ac and by the specific joyousness combined with it, tually suffer the fantastic and horrible punishments would assuredly themselves preclude such activity. to which he has sentenced them in his Hell and Passion, in its own quality, is the antagonist of ac- Purgatory? Or what shall we say of the passages tion ; though in an ordinary and natural degree the in which Bishop Jeremy Taylor anticipates the state former alternates with the latter, and thereby revives of those who, vicious themselves, have been ik?

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cause of vice and misery to their fellow-creatures ?

l'in wae to think upon yon den, Could we endure for a moment to think that a spirit,

Ev'n for your sake! like Bishop Taylor's, burning with Christian love; I need not say that these thoughts, which are here that a mari constitutionally overflowing with plea- dilated, were in such a company only rapidly sug. surable kindliness ; who scarcely even in a casual gested. Our kind host smiled, and with a courteous illustration introduces the image of woman, child, or compliment observed, that the defence was too good bird, but he embalms the thought with so rich a for the cause. My voice faltered a little, for I was tenderness, as makes the very words seem beauties somewhat agitated; though not so much on my own and fragments of poetry from a Euripides or Simo- acco as for the uneasiness that so kind and nides ;-can we endure to think, that a man so na-friendly a man would feel from the thought that he tured and so disciplined, did at the time of composing had been the occasion of distressing me. At length this horrible picture, attach a sober feeling of reality I brought out these words : “ I must now confess, to the phrases ? or that he would have described in Sir! that I am author of that Poem. It was written the same tone of justification, in the same luxuriant some years ago. I do not attempt to justify my past flow of phrases, the tortures about to be inflicted on self

, young as I then was; but as little as I would a living individual by a verdict of the Star-Chamber? now write a similar poem, so far was I even then or the still more atrocious sentences executed on the from imagining, that the lines would be taken as Scotch anti-prelatists and schismatics, at the com- more or less than a sport of fancy. At all events, if mand, and in some instances under the very eye of I know my own heart, there was never a moment the Duke of Lauderdale, and of that wretched bigot in my existence in which I should have been more who afterwards dishonored and forfeited the throne ready, had Mr. Pitt's person heen in hazard, to interof Great Britain ? Or do we not rather feel and un- pose my own body, and defend his life at the risk of derstand, that these violent words were mere bubbles, my own.” flashes and electrical apparitions, from the magic I have prefaced the Poem with this anecdote, becaldron of a fervid and ebullient fancy, constantly cause to have printed it without any remark might fuelled by an unexampled opulence of language ? well have been understood as implying an uncondi.

Were I now to have read by myself for the first tional approbation on my part, and this after many time the Poem in question, my conclusion, I fully years' consideration. But if it be asked why I rebelieve, would be, that the writer must have been published it at all? I answer, that the Poem had some man of warm feelings and active fancy; that been attributed at different times to different other he had painted to himself the circumstances that ac- persons; and what I had dared beget, I thought it company war in so many vivid and yet fantastic neither manly nor honorable not to dare father. forms, as proved that neither the images nor the From the same motives I should have published feelings were the result of observation, or in any perfect copies of two Poems, the one entitled The way derived from realities. I should judge, that they Devil's Thoughts, and the other The Two Round were the product of his own seething imagination, Spaces on the Tomb-Stone, but that the three first and therefore impregnated with that pleasurable ex. stanzas of the former, which were worth all the rest ultation which is experienced in all energetic exer- of the poem, and the best stanza of the remainder, tion of intellectual power; that in the same mood were written by a friend of deserved celebrity; and he had generalized the causes of the war, and then because there are passages in both, which might personified the abstract, and christened it by the have given offence to the religious feelings of certain name which he had been accustomed to hear most readers. I myself indeed see no reason why vulgar often associated with its management and measures. superstitions, and absurd conceptions that deform the I should guess that the minister was in the author's pure faith of a Christian, should possess a greater mind at the moment of composition, as completely immunity from ridicule than stories of witches, or aralis, dvaruosapkos, as Anacreon's grasshopper, and the fables of Greece and Rome. But there are that he had as little notion of a real person of flesh those who deem it profaneness and irreverence to and blood,

call an ape an ape, if it but wear a monk's cowl on Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb,

its head; and I would rather reason with this weak

ness than offend it. as Milton had in the grim and terrible phantoms (half The passage from Jeremy Taylor to which I reperson, half allegory) which he has placed at the ferred, is found in his second Sermon on Christ's gates of Hell. I concluded by observing, that the Advent to Judgment; which is likewise the second Poem was not calculated to excite passion in any in his year's course of sermons. Among many re mind, or to make any impression except on poetic markable passages of the same character in those readers; and that from the culpable levity, betrayed discourses, I have selected this as the most so. “But at the close of the Eclogue by the grotesque union when this Lion of the tribe of Judah shall appear, of epigrammatic wit with allegoric personification, then Justice shall strike and Mercy shall not hold in the allusion to the most fearful of įhoughts, I her hands ; she shall strike sore strokes, and Pity should conjecture that the “ rantin' Bardie," instead shall not break the blow As there are treasures of of really believing, much less wishing, the fate spo- good things, so hath God a treasure of wrath and ken of in the last line, in application to any human fury, and scourges and scorpions ; and then shall be individual, would shrink from passing the verdict produced the shame of Lust and the malice of Envy, even on the Devil himself, and exclaim with poor and the groans of the oppressed and the persecutions Burns,

of the saints, and the cares of Covetousness and the But fare ye weel, auld Nickie-ben!

troubles of Ambition, and the indolence of trailors Oh! wad ye tak a thought an' men'!

and the violences of rebels, and the rage of anger and Ye aiblins might dinna kenStill hae á stakethe uneasiness of impatience, and the restlessness of

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