Mightier far was the joy of thy sudden resilience; and forthwith

Myriad myriads of lives teemed forth from the mighty embracement.

Thousand-fold tribes of dwellers, impelled by thousand-fold instincts,

Filled, as a dream, the wide waters; the rivers sang on their channels;

Laughed on their shores the hoarse seas; the yearning ocean swelled upward;

Young life lowed through the meadows, the woods, and the echoing mountains,

Wandered bleating in valleys, and warbled on blossoming branches.

UTTER the

MAHOMET.

song, 0 my

of Mohammed,

soul! the flight and return

Prophet and priest, who scatter'd abroad both evil and blessing,

Huge wasteful empires founded, and hallow'd slow persecution,

Soul-withering, but crush'd the blasphemous rites of the Pagan

And idolatrous Christians. For veiling the Gospel of Jesus,

They, the best corrupting, had made it worse than the vilest.

Wherefore Heaven decreed th' enthusiast warrior of Mecca,

Choosing good from iniquity rather than evil from goodness.

Loud the tumult in Mecca surrounding the fane of the idol;

Naked and prostrate the priesthood were laid— the people with mad shouts

Thundering now, and now with saddest ululation Flew, as over the channel of rock-stone the ruinous river

Shatters its waters abreast, and in mazy uproar bewilder'd,

Rushes dividuous all-all rushing impetuous onward.

THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN.

COPIED FROM A PRINT OF THE VIRGIN, IN A ROMAN CATHOLIC VILLAGE IN GERMANY

DORMI, Jesu! Mater ridet
Quæ tam dulcem somnum videt,
Dormi, Jesu! blandule!

Si non dormis, Mater plorat,

Inter fila cantans orat,

Blande, veni, somnule.

ENGLISH.

Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling;
Mother sits beside thee smiling;
Sleep, my darling, tenderly!

If thou sleep not, mother mourneth,
Singing as her wheel she turneth,

Come, soft slumber, balmily!

WRITTEN DURING A TEMPORARY BLINDNESS, IN THE YEAR 1799.

O, WHAT a life is the eye! what a strange and inscrutable essence!

Him, that is utterly blind, nor glimpses the fire that warms him ;

Him that never beheld the swelling breast of his mother;

Him that smiled in his gladness as a babe that smiles in its slumber;

Even for him it exists! It moves and stirs in its

prison !

Lives with a separate life: and-" Is it a spirit?" he murmurs:

"Sure, it has thoughts of its own, and to see is only a language!"

ODE TO TRANQUILLITY.

TRANQUILLITY! thou better name
Than all the family of Fame!
Thou ne'er wilt leave my riper age
To low intrigue, or factious rage;

For oh dear child of thoughtful Truth,
To thee I gave my early youth,

And left the bark, and blest the steadfast shore,
Ere yet the tempest rose and scared me with its

roar.

Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine,
On him but seldom, Power divine

Thy spirit rests! Satiety

And Sloth, poor counterfeits of thee,
Mock the tired worldling. Idle hope
And dire remembrance interlope,

To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind:
The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.

But me thy gentle hand will lead

A morning through the accustomed mead;
And in the sultry summer's heat

Will build me up a mossy seat;