Puslapio vaizdai
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But not for this do I aspire

To match the spark of local fire,

That at my will burns on the dewy lawn,
With thy acknowledged glories; - No!

Yet, thus upbraided, I may shew

What favours do attend me here,
Till, like thyself, I disappear

Before the purple dawn."

When this in modest guise was said,
Across the welkin seemed to spread

A boding sound-for aught but sleep unfit!

Hills quaked the rivers backward ran

That Star, so proud of late, looked wan;
And reeled with visionary stir

In the blue depth, like Lucifer
Cast headlong to the pit!

Fire raged, and when the spangled floor

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Of ancient ether was no more,

New heavens succeeded, by the dream brought forth:

And all the happy Souls that rode

Transfigured through that fresh abode,

Had heretofore, in humble trust,

Shone meekly mid their native dust,

The Glow-worms of the earth!

This knowledge, from an Angel's voice
Proceeding, made the heart rejoice
Of Him who slept upon the open lea:
Waking at morn he murmured not;
And, till life's journey closed, the spot
Was to the Pilgrim's soul endeared,

Where by that dream he had been cheered
Beneath the shady tree.

XXIII.

HINT FROM THE MOUNTAINS

FOR CERTAIN POLITICAL PRETENDERS.

"WHO but hails the sight with pleasure When the wings of genius rise,

Their ability to measure

With great enterprise ;

But in man was ne'er such daring
As yon Hawk exhibits, pairing

His brave spirit with the war in

The stormy skies!

Mark him, how his

power he uses,

Lays it by, at will resumes!

Mark, ere for his haunt he chooses

Clouds and utter glooms!

There, he wheels in downward mazes;

Sunward now his flight he raises,

Catches fire, as seems, and blazes
With uninjured plumes!"

66

ANSWER.

Stranger, 'tis no act of courage
Which aloft thou dost discern ;

No bold bird gone forth to forage
Mid the tempest stern;

But such mockery as the Nations
See, when public perturbations

Lift men from their native stations,

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Such it is;

TUFT OF FERN N;

the aspiring Creature

Soaring on undaunted wing,

(So you fancied) is by nature

A dull helpless Thing,

Dry and withered, light and yellow; —

That to be the tempest's fellow !

Wait and

you

shall see how hollow

Its endeavouring!"

XXIV.

STRAY PLEASURES.

Pleasure is spread through the earth

In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.”

By their floating Mill,

That lies dead and still,

Behold yon Prisoners three,

The Miller with two Dames, on the breast of the Thames!
The Platform is small, but gives room for them all;
And they're dancing merrily.

From the shore come the notes

To their Mill where it floats,

To their House and their Mill tethered fast;

To the small wooden Isle where, their work to beguile,
They from morning to even take whatever is given;-
And many a blithe day they have past.

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