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“This visage tells thee that my doom is past :
He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space; “Be taught, O faithful Consort, to control
Rebellious passion: for the Gods approve
The depth, and not the lumult, of the soul; Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp; A fervent, not ungovernable love. Again that consummation she essayed;
Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp
When I depart, for brief is my sojourn —"
“Ah, wherefore? - Did not Hercules by force And re-assume his place before her sight.
Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb
Alcestis, a reanimated Corse, “Protesiláus, lo! thy guide is gone!
Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? Confirm, I pray, the Vision with thy voice:
Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years, This is our Palace, — yonder is thy throne;
And Æson stood a Youth 'mid youthful peers, Speak, and the floor thou treadest on will rejoice. Not to appal me have the Gods bestowed
“The Gods to us are merciful — and they This precious boon, — and blest a sad Abode.” Yet further may relent: for mightier far
Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway “Great Jove, Laodamia! doth not leave
Of magic potent over sun and star, His gifts imperfect:- Spectre though I be,
Is love, though oft to agony distrest, I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
And though his favourite seat be feeble Woman's breast But in reward of thy fidelity. And something also did my worth obtain ;
“But if thou goest, I follow _" "Peace!" he said – For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain,
She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered,
The ghastly colour from his lips had Aled; 'Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold
In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Should die ; but me the threat could not withhold;
Brought from a pensive though a happy place. A generous cause a Victim did demand; And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain ;
He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel A self-devoted chief — by Hector slain.”
In worlds whose course is equable and pure;
No fears to beat away — no strife to heal — “Supreme of Heroes -- bravest, noblest, best !
The past unsighed for, and the future sure; Thy matchless courage I bewail no more,
Spake of heroic arts in mood
graver Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest
Revived, with finer harmony pursued ; By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore ;
here thou art Of all that is most beauteous — imaged there Thou found'st -- and I forgive thee
In happier beauty : more pellucid streams,
An ampler ether, a diviner air,
What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.
The wished-for wind was given :- I then revolved
“But thou, though capable of sternest deed,
“No Spectre greets me, - - no vain Shadow this;
Know, virtue were not virtue if the joys
And surely as they vanish.
Yet bitter, ofl-times bitter, was the pang
On thee too fondly did my memory hang,
And ever, when such stature they had gained
and these trail elements, to father flowers of the point. THE TRIAD.
THE TRJAD: cadrang berater o . Show me the noblest Youth of present time
I will not fetch a Naiad from a flood
“Appear! obey my lyre's command !
“Fear not this constraining measure!
* For the account of these long-lived trees, see Pliny's Natu ral History, lib. xvi. cap. 44.; and for the features in the charac ter of Protesilaus, see the Iphigenia in Aulis of Euripides. Virgil places the Shade of Laodamia in a mournful region, among unhappy Lovers,
Come to regions solitary,
She hastens to the tents
Of nature, and the lonely eleinents.
Air sparkles round her with a dazzling sheen, - She comes !- behold
And mark her glowing cheek, her vesture green That Figure, like a ship with silver sail!
And, as if wishful to disarm Nearer she draws- a breeze uplifts her veil Or to repay the potent charm, Upon her coming wait
She bears the stringed lute of old romance, As pure a sunshine and as soft a gale
That cheered the trellised arbour's privacy, As e'er on herbage covering earthly mould, And soothed war-wearied knights in raftered hall
, Tempted the bird of Juno to unfold
How light her air ! how delicate her glee! His richest splendour, when his veering gait So tripped the Muse, inventress of the dance; And every motion of his starry train
So, truant in waste woods, the blithe Euphrosyne ! Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.
But the ringlets of that head O Lady, worthy of earth's proudest throne! Why are they ungarlanded ! Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit
Why bedeck her temples less
Than the simplest shepherdess?
Choicest fowers that ever breathed,
With Idalian rose enwreathed ? That its fair flowers may brush from off his cheek But her humility is well content The too, too happy tear?
With one wild floweret (call it not forlorn) Queen and handmaid lowly!
FLOWER OF THE WINDS, beneath her bosom worn, Whose skill can speed the day with lively cares, Yet is it more for love than ornament. And banish melancholy
Open, ye thickets! let her fly, By all that mind invents or hand prepares;
Swift as a Thracian Nymph o'er field and height: O thou, against whose lip, without its smile,
For She, to all but those who love Her shy, And in its silence even, no heart is proof;
Would gladly vanish from a Stranger's sight; Whose goodness sinking deep, would reconcile
Though where she is beloved, and loves, as free The softest Nursling of a gorgeous palace
As bird that rifles blossoms on a tree, To the bare life beneath the hawthorn roof
Turning them inside out with arch audacity. Of Sherwood's archer, or in caves of Wallace Who that hath seen thy beauty could content
Alas! how little can a moment show His soul with but a glimpse of heavenly day?
Of an eye where feeling plays Who that hath loved thee, but would lay
In ten thousand dewy rays; His strong hand on the wind, if it were bent
A face o'er which a thousand shadows go! To take thee in thy majesty away?
- She stops — is fastened to that rivulet's side; Pass onward (even the glancing deer
And there (while, with sedater mien,
Till we depart intrude not here ;)
Glad moment is it when the throng
What more changeful than the sea ?
By none more deeply felt than thee!"
O the charm that manners draw,
She, in benign affections pure, 1 ks In self-forgetfulness secure, de Sheds round the transient harm or vague mischance
A light unknown to tutored elegance :
With all their fragrance, all their glistening,
“ Last of the Three, though eldest born, Rereal thyself, like pensive morn, Touched by the skylark's earliest note, Ere humbler gladness be afloat. But whether in the semblance drest Of dawn - or eve, fair vision of the west, Come with each anxious hope subdued By woman's gentle fortitude, Each grief, through meekness, settling into rest. - Or I would hail thee when some high-wrought page Of a closed volume lingering in thy hand Has raised thy spirit to a peaceful stand Among the glories of a happier age.”
LYRE! though such power do in thy magic live
As might from India's farthest plain
Assist me to detain
The lovely fugitive: Check with thy notes the impulse which, betrayed By her sweet farewell looks, I longed to aid. Here let me gaze enwrapt upon that eye, The impregnable and awe-inspiring fort Of contemplation, the calm port By reason fenced from winds that sigh Among the restless sails of vanity. But if no wish be hers that we should part, A humbler bliss would satisfy my heart.
Where all things are so fair, Enough by her dear side to breathe the air
Of this Elysian weather ; And, on or in, or near, the brook, espy Shade upon the sunshine lying
Faint and somewhat pensively;
With its upright living tree
see it there,
- Her brow hath opened on me Brightening the umbrage of her hair; So gleams the crescent moon, that loves To be descried through shady groves. - Tenderest bloom is on her cheek; Wish not for a richer streak – Nor dread the depth of meditative eye; But let thy love, upon that azure field Of thoughtfulness and beauty, yield Its homage offered up in purity.– What would'st thou more? In sunny glade Or under leaves of thickest shade, Was such a stillness e'er diffused Since earth grew calm while angels mused? Softly she treads, as if her foot were loth To crush the mountain dew-drop, soon to melt On the flowers breast; as if she felt That flowers themselves, whate'er their hue,
Nor less the joy with many a glance
Or watch, with mutual teaching,
Adown a rocky maze;
A JEWISH FAMILY.
IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE ST. GOAR, OPON THE RHINE.)
Genius of Raphael! if thy wings
Might bear thee to this glen, With faithful memory left of things
To pencil dear and pen,
And all his majesty –
O'er this poor family.
Weak is the will of man, his judgment blind; • Remembrance persecutes, and hope betrays ; • Heavy is woe; — and joy, for human-kind, • A mournful thing, so transient is the blaze! Thus might he paint our lot of mortal days Who wants the glorious faculty assigned To elevate the more-than-reasoning mind, And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays. Imagination is that sacred power, Imagination lofty and refined: 'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
The mother - her thou must have seen,
In spirit, ere she came
Or found on earth a name;
Thy inspirations give -
Predestined here to live.
Downcast, or shooting glances far,
How beautiful his eyes,
With that of summer skies!
Uncounted months are gone,
That exquisite Saint John.
I see the dark-brown curls, the brow,
The smooth transparent skin,
The holiness within;
By blushes yet untamed ;
Nor of her arms ashamed.
Two lovely sisters, still and sweet
As flowers, stand side by side ; Their soul-subduing looks might cheat
The Christian of his pride:
Upon them not forlorn,
Nor yet redeemed from scorn.
RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE. THERE was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods; Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods ; The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chalters; And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters
All things that love the sun are out of doors ;
I was a Traveller then upon the moor;
But, as it sometime chanceth, from the might
Mysterious safeguard, that, in spite
Of poverty and wrong,
From Hebrew fountains sprung; That gives this ragged group to cast
Around the della gleam Of Palestine, of glory past,
I heard the Sky-lark warbling in the sky;
And proud Jorunulom !