Imatges de pàgina
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Alternate follies take the sway',

Licentious passions burn';

Which tenfold force gives nature's law',
That man was made to môurn'.

Look not alone on youthful prime',
Or manhood's active might';
Man', then', is useful to his kind';
Supported is his right';

But see him on the edge of life',

With cares and sorrows wôrn';
Then', age and want', oh'! ill-matched pair'!
Show'.. man was made to mourn'.~

A few seem favourites of fate',
In pleasure's lap caressed';
Yet think not all the rich and greať
Are likewise truly blest':

But', oh'! what crowds in every land',
Are wretched and forlorn'!
Through weary life this lesson learn',
That man was made to môurn'.

Many and sharp the num'rous ills'
Inwoven with our frame';

More pointed still we make ourselves',
Regret', remorse', and shame';
And man', whose heaven-erected face'
The smiles of love adorn'-
Man's inhumanity to man',

Makes countless thousands mourn'.

See yonder pôôr', o'erlaboured wight',
So abject', mean', and vile',
Who begs a brother of the earth'
To give him leave to tôîl';
And see his lordly fellow-worm'
The poor petition SPURN',
Unmindful', though a weeping wife',
And helpless offspring mourn'.

If I'm designed yon lordling's SLAVE',
By nature's law designed's

Why was an independent wish'
E'ere planted in my mind?

If not, why am I subject to'
His cruelty', or scorn'?

Or why has man the will and power'

To make his fellow mourn'?

aal-ter'nåte-not, awl-ter'nate. Få'vår-its. Dé-sinde'-not, de-zinde'.

dIn-de-pên'dênt. eåre.

Yet', let not this too much', my son',
Disturb thy youthful breast';
This partial view of human kind'
Is surely not the last'.

The poor', oppressed', honest man',
Had never sure been bôrn',

Had there not been some recompense'
To comfort those that mourn'.

O death"! the poor man's dearest friend',
The kindest and the best';

Welcome the hour my aged limbs'
Are laid with thee at rest'.

The great', the wealthy', fear thy blow',
From pomp and pleasure torn';

But', oh'! a blest relief to those'
That weary-laden'.

...

. mourn'.

SECTION XIX.

To the Skies.-BRYANT.

Ar', gloriously thou standest there',
Beautiful', boundless firmament"!b
That', swelling wide o'er earth and air',
And round the horizon bent',
With that bright vault and sapphire wall',
Dost overhang and circle all'.

Far', far below thee', tall gray trees'
Arise', and piles built up of old',
And hills', whose ancient summits freeze'

In the fierce light and cold'.

The eagle soars his utmost height';

Yet far thou stretchest o'er his flight'.

Thou hast thy frowns': with thee', on high',
The storm has made his airy seat':
Beyond thy soft blue curtain lie'

His stores of hail and sleet':

Thence the consuming lightnings break';
There the strong hurricanes awake':

Yet art thou prodigal of smiles'—

Smiles sweeter than thy frowns are stern':

Earth sends', from all her thousand isles',
A song at their return';

The glory that comes down from thee',
Bathes in deep joy the land and sea'.

"Me-when not emphatical. Fêr'mâ'mênt. cHo-ri'zôn.

d Důst.

The sun', the gorgeous sun', is thine'—
The pomp that brings and shuts the day';
The clouds that round him change and shine'
The airs that fan his way'.

Thence look the thoughtful stars', and there'
The meek moon walks the silent air'.

The sunny Italy may boast'

The beauteous tints that flush her skies';
And', lovely', round the Grecian coast',
May thy blue pillars rise':-

I only know how fair they stand'
About my own beloved land'.

And they are fair': a charm is theirs',

That earth'-the proud', green earth'-has not',
With all the hues', and forms', and airs',
That haunt her sweetest spot'.

We gaze upon thy calm', pure sphere',
And read of heaven's eternal year'.

Oh'! when', amid the throng of men',
The heart grows sick of hollow mirth',
How willingly we turn us', then',
Away from this cold earth',

And look into thy azurea breast',

For seats of innocenceb and rest"!

SECTION XX.

The Musick of the Ocean.-WALSH'S NATIONAL Gazette.

"And the people of this place say, that, at certain seasons, beautiful sounds are heard from the ocean."-Mavor's Voyages.

LONELY and wild ite rose,

That strain of solemn musick from the sea,
As though the bright air trembled to disclose
An ocean mystery.

Again a low, sweet tone,

Fainting in murmurs on the listening day,
Just bade the excited thought its presence own,
Then died away.

Once more the gush of sound,
Struggling and swelling from the heaving plain
Thrilled a rich peal triumphantly around,
And fled again.

ad'zhůre. In'no-sense-not, in'no sunse.

Poetick license.

O, boundless deep! we know

Thou hast strange wonders in thy gloom concealed,
Gems, flashing gems, from whose unearthly glow
Sunlight is sealed.

And an eternal spring

Showers her rich colours with unsparing hand,
Where coral trees their graceful branches fling
O'er golden sand.

But tell, O, restless main !

Who are the dwellers in thy world beneath,
That thus the watery realm cannot contain
The joy they breathe?

Emblem of glorious might!

Are thy wild children like thyself arrayed,
Strong in immortal and unchecked delight,
Which cannot fade?

Or to mankind allied,

Toiling with wo, and passion's fiery sting,
Like their own home, where storms or peace preside,
As the winds bring?

Alas, for human thought!

How does it flee existence, worn and old,
To win companionship with beings wrought
Of finer mould!

"Tis vain the reckless waves

Join with loud revel the dim ages flown,
But keep each secret of their hidden caves
Dark and unknown.

SECTION XXI.

The Ocean, at the Resurrection Morn.-POLLOCK.

GREAT Ocean!! too', that morning', thou the call
Of restitution heardst', and reverently

To the last trumpet's voice', in silence listenedst'.
Great Ocean!! strongest of creation's sons',
Unconquerable', unreposed', untired',

That rolledst the wild', profound', eternal bass
In nature's anthem', and madest musick', such
As pleased the ear of God"! original',
Unmarred', unfaded' work of Deity',
And unburlesqued by mortal's puny skill';
From age to age enduring' and unchanged',
Majestical', inimitable', vast';

Loud uttering satire', day and night', on each
Succeeding race', and little', pompous work

Of man"!-Unfallen', religious', holy sea'.

Thou bowedst thy glorious head to none', fearedst none',
Heardst none', to none didst honour', but to God

Thy Maker', only worthy to receive

Thy great obeisance! Undiscovered sea"!
Into thy dark', unknown', mysterious caves
And secret haunts', unfathomably deep
Beneath all visible retired', none went
And came again to tell the wonders there'.

Tremendous sea!! what time thou liftedst up
Thy waves on high', and with thy winds and storms
Strange pastime took', and shooka thy mighty sides
Indignantly', the pride of navies fell';

Beyond the arm of help', unheard', unseen',
Sunk', friend and foe', with all their wealth and war';
And on thy shores', men of a thousand tribes',
Polite and barbarous', trembling stood', amazed',
Confounded', terrified', and thought vast thoughts
Of ruin', boundlessness', omnipotence',
Infinitude', eternity'; and thought',

And wondered still', and grasped', and grasped', and grasped
Again', beyond their reach', exerting all

The soul to take thy great idea in',

To comprehend incomprehensible',
And wondered more', and felt their littleness'.
Self-purifying', unpolluted sea'!

Lover unchangeable', thy faithful breast
Forever heaving to the lovely moon',
That', like a shy and holy virgin', robed

In saintly white', walked nightly in the heavens',
And to thy everlasting serenade

Gave gracious audience'; nor was wooed in vain'.
That morning', thou', that slumberedst not before',
Nor slept', great Ocean'! laidst thy waves at rest',
And hushed thy mighty minstrelsy'. No breath
Thy deep composure stirred', no fin', nor oar';
Like beauty newly dead', so calm', so still',
So lovely', thou', beneath the light that fell
From angel-chariots', sentinelled on high',
Reposed, and listened', and sawa thy living change',
Thy dead arise'.

Charybdis listened', and Scylla',
And savage Euxine on the Thracian beach',
Lay motionless': and every battle-ship
Stood still', and every ship of merchandise',
And all that sailed', of every name', stood still'.
Even as the ship of war', full-fledged' and swift',
Like some fierce bird of prey', bore on her foe',
Opposing with as fell intent', the wind

Fell withered from her wings that idly hung';
The stormy bullet', by the cannon thrown
Uncivilly against the heavenly face

Of men', half sped', sunk harmlessly', and all

"Poetick license: grammatically, didst take, didst shake, &c.

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