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The good and evil thing, in human lore She climbs of that steep upland, on whose top Undisciplin'd. For lowly was her birth, The pilgrim-man, who long since eve had And Heaven had doom'd her early years to

watch'd toil

The alien shine of unconcerning stars, That pure from tyranny's least deed, herself Shouts to himself, there first the AbbeyUnfeard by fellow-natures, she might wait

lights On the poor lab'ring man with kindly looks, Seen in Neufchatel's vale; now slopes adown And minister refreshment to the tir'd The winding sheep-track valeward: when, Way-wanderer, when along the rough-hewn

behold bench

In the first entrance of the level road The sweltry man had stretch'd him, and aloft An unattended team! The foremost horse Vacantly watch'd the rudely pictured board Lay with stretch'd limbs; the others, yet Which on the mulberry-bough with welcome

alive creek

But stiff and cold, stood motionless, their Swung to the pleasant breeze. Here, too,

manes the Maid

Hoar with the frozen night-dewe. Dismally Learnt more than schools could teach: Man's The dark-red dawn now glimmer'd; but its shifting mind,

gleams His vices and his sorrows! And full oft Disclosed no face of man. The maiden paused, At tales of cruel wrong and strange distress Then hail'd who might be near. No voice Had wept and shiver’d. To the tottering Eld

replied. Still as a Daughter would she run: she From the thwart wain at length there reach'd plac'd

her ear His cold limbs at the sunny door, and lov’a A sound so feeble that it almost seem'd To hear him story, in his garrulous sort, Distant—and feebly, with slow effort push'd, Of his eventful years, all come and gone. A miserable man crept forth: his limbs

The silent frost had eat, scathing like fire.

Faint on the shafts he rested. She, mean So twenty seasons past. The Virgin's

time, Form,

Saw crowded close beneath the coverture Active and tall, nor Sloth nor Luxury A mother and her children-lifeless all, Had shrunk or paled. Her front sublime and Yet lovely! not a lineament was marrid


Death had put on so slumber-like a form! Her flexile eye-brows wildly hair’d and low, It was a piteous sight; and one, a babe, And her full eye, now bright, now unillum’d, The crisp milk frozen on its innocent lips, Spake more than woman's thought: and Lay on the woman's arm, its little hand

all her face

Stretch'd on her bosom. Mutely questioning, Was moulded to such features, as declared, The Maid gazed wildly at the living wretch. That Pity there had oft and strongly work’d, He, his head feebly turning, on the group And sometimes Indignation. Bold her mien, Look'd with a vacant stare, and his eye spoke And like an haughty Huntress of the woods The drowsy calm that steals on worn-out She mov'd: yet sure she was a gentle waid !

anguish. And in each motion her most innocent soul She shudder'd: but, each vainer pang Beam'd forth 80 brightly, that who saw


Quick disentangling from the foremost horse Guilt was a thing impossible in her! The rustic bands, with difficulty and toil Nor idly would have said, for she had liv'd The stiff, crampt team forced homeward. In this bad world, as in a place of tombs,

There arrived And touch'd not the pollutions of the Dead. Anxiously tends him she with healing herbs,

And weeps and prays—but the numb power

of Death 'Twas the cold season when the rustic's eye Spreads o'er his limbs; and ere the noonFrom the drear desolate whiteness of his

tide-hour fields

The hov'ring spirits of his wife and babes Rolls for relief to watch the skiey tints

Hail bim immortal! Yet amid his panga, And clouds slow-varying their huge imagery; With interruptions long from ghastly throes, When now, as she was wont, the healthful His voice had falter'd out this simple tale.

Maid Had left hor pallet ere one beam of day Slanted the fog-smoke. She went forth alone, The Village, where he dwelt an HusbandUrged by the indwelling angel-guide,that oft,

man, With dim inexplicable sympathies

By sadden inroad had been seiz'd and fired Disquieting the heart, shapes out man's Late on the yester-evening. With his wife

And little ones he hurried his escape. To the predoomed adventure. Now the They saw the neighbouring hamlets flame. ascent

would say,

they heard





Uproar and shrieks! and terror-struck drove Of Chaos the adventurous progeny

Thou seest; foul missionaries of foul sire, Through unfrequented roads, a weary way! Fierce to regain the losses of that hour But saw nor house nor cottage. All had When Love rose glittering, and his gorquench'd

geous wings Their evening-hearth-fire: for the alarm Over the abyss flutter'd with such glad noise,

had spread.

As 'what time after long and pestful calms, The air clipt keen, the night was fang? Withslimy shapes and miscreated life

with frost,

Poisoning the vast Pacific, the fresh breeze And they provisionless! The weeping wife Wakens the merchant-sail uprising. Night Ill-hush'd her children's moans; and still An'heavy unimaginable moan

they moan'd, Sent forth, when she the PROTOPLAST beheld Till Fright and Cold and Hunger drank their Stand beauteous on Confusion's charmed

life. They closed their eyes in sleep, nor knew Moaning she fled, and entered the Profound

'twas Death. That leads with downward windings to the He only, lashing his o'er-wearied team, Gained a sad respite, till beside the base Of darkness palpable, Desart of Death, Of the high hill his foremost horse dropt Sunk deep beneath Genenna's massy roots.


There many a dateless age the Beldame Then hopeless, strengthless, sick for lack

lurk'd of food,

And trembled; till engender'd by fierce Hate, He crept beneath the coverture, entranced, Fierce Hate and gloomy Hope, a Dreamarose, Till waken’d by the maiden.---Such his tale. Shap'd like a black cloud mark'd with streaks

of fire.

It rous’d the Hell-Hag: she the dew-damp Ah! suffering to the height of what was

wiped suffered,

From off her brow, and thro' the unconth Stung with too keen a sympathy, the Maid Brooded with moving lips, mute, startful, Retraced her steps ; but ere she reach'd the dark !

mouth And now her fush'd tumultuous features of that drear labyrinth, shuddering she shot

paused, Such strange vivacity, as fires the eye Nor dared re-enter the diminish'd Gulph. Of misery fancy-craz’d! and now once more As thro' the dark vaults of some moulder'd Naked, and void, and fix'd, and all, within,

Tower The unquiet silence of confused thought (Which, fearful to approach, the evening And shapeless feelings. For a mighty hand

Hind Was strong upon her, till in the heat of soul Circles at distance in his homeward way) To the high hill-top tracing back her steps, The winds breathe hollow, deem'd the plainAside the beacon, up whose smoulder'd stones

ing groan The tender ivy-trails crept thinly, there, Of prison’d spirits; with such fearful voice Unconscious of the driving element, Night murmur'd, and the sound thro' Chaos Yea, swallow'd up in the ominous dream,

went. she sate,

Leapt at her call her hideous-fronted brood ! Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber! a dim A dark behest they heard, and rush'd on anguish

earth, Breath'd from her look! and still with pant Since that sad hour, in Camps and Courts and sob

adored, Inly she toild to flee, and still subdued

Rebels from God, and Monarchs o'er ManFelt an inevitable Presence near.



Thus as she toil'd in troublous extacy, An horror of great darkness wrapt her round,

From his obscure haunt And a voice attered forth unearthly tones, Shriek'd Fear, of Cruelty the ghastly Dam, Calming her soul:--Oh Thou of the Most Fey'rish yet freezing, eager-paced yet slow,


As she that creeps from forth her swampy Chosen, whom all the perfected in Heaven

reeds, Behold expectant

Ague, the biform Hag! when early Spring

Beams on the marsh-bred vapours. (The following fragments were intended to form part of the Poein when finished.)

Maid belov'd of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Power exclaimed)

Even 80 (the exulting Maiden said) The sainted Heralds of Good Tidings fell,

And thus they witness'd God! But now the Nor did not the large blood-drops fall from clouds

Heaven Treading, and storms beneath their feet, Portentous! while aloft were seen to float,

they soar

Like hideous features looming on the mist, Higher, and higher soar, and soaring sing Wan stains of ominous light! Resign'd, Loud songs of Triumph! O ye spirits of God,

yet sad, Hover around my mortal agonies !

The fair Form bow'd her olive-crowned She spake, and instantly faint melody

brow: Melts on her ear, soothing and sad, and slow, Then o'er the Plain with oft reverted eye Such measures, as at calmest midnight heard Fled till a place of tombs she reach’d, and By aged Hermit in his holy dream,

there Foretell and solace death; and now they rise Within a ruin'd sepulchre obscure Louder, as when with harp and mingled Found hiding-place. The delegated Maid


Gaz'd thro' her tears, then in sad tones The white-robed multitude of slaughter'd

exclaim'd: saints

Thou mild-ey'd Form! wherefore, ah! whereAt Heaven's wide-opend portals gratulant

fore fled? Receive some martyrd Patriot. The har- The power of Justice, like a

name all mony

Light, Entranced the Maid, till each suspended sense Shone from thy brow; but all they, who Brief slumber seized, and confused extacy.

unblam'd Dwelt in thy dwellings, call thee HAPPINESS.

Ah! why, uninjured and unprofited, At length awakening slow, she gazed Should multitudes against their brethren around:

rush? And thro' a mist, the relict of that trance, Why sow they guilt, still reaping misery? Still thinning as she gaz’d, an Isle appear'a, Lenient of care, thy songs, oh Pback! are Its high, o'er-hanging, white, broad-breasted

sweet, cliffs

As after showers the perfumed gale of eve, Glass'd on the subject ocean. A vast Plain i That flings the cool drops on a feverous Stretch'd opposite, where ever and anon

cheek: The plough-man following sad his meagre But boasts the shrine of Dæmon War one

And gay thy grassy altar pil'd with fruits.

team Turn'd up fresh sculls unstartled, and the

charm, bones

Save that with many an orgie strange and Of fierce hate-breathing combatants, who

foul, there

Dancing around with interwoven arms, All mingled lay beneath the common earth, The Maniac Suicide and Giant MURDER Death's gloomy reconcilement! O'er the Exult in their fierce union! I am sad,


And know not why the simple peasanta Stept a fair form, repairing all she might,

crowd Her temples olive-wreath’d; and where she Beneath the Chieftains' standard !—Thus the trod,

Fresh flowrets rose and many a foodful herb.
But wan her cheek, her footsteps insecure,
And anxious pleasure beam'd in her faint

To her the tutelary Spirit replied:
As she had newly left a couch of pain,

When Luxury and Lust's exhausted stores Pale Convalescent! (Yet some time to rule No more can rouse the appetites of Kings; With power exclusive o'er the willing world, When the low flattery of their reptile Lords That blest prophetic mandate then fulfilla Falls flat and heavy on the accustom'd ear; Peace be on Earth!) An happy while, but When Eunuchs sing, and Fools buffoonery brief,

make, She seem'd to wander with assiduous feet, And Dancers writhe their harlot-limbs is And heal'd the recent harm of chill and

vain: blight,

Then War and all its dread vicissitudes And nurs'd each plant that fair and virtuous Pleasingly agitate their stagnant hearts;


Its hopes, its fears, its victories, its deftats,
Insipid Royalty's keen condiment!

Therefore, uninjur'd and unprofited,
But soon a deep precursive sound moan’a (Victims at once and Executioners)


The congregated husbandmen lay waste Black rose the clouds, and now (as in a 'The Vineyard and the Harvest. As along


The Bothnic coast, or southward of the Line. Their reddening shapes, transform'd to War- Though hush'd the Winds and cloudless the rior-hosts,

high Noon, Cours'd o'er the Sky, and battled in mid-air. I Yet if Leviathan, wcary of case,


In sports unwieldy toss his Island-bulk, Much hast thou seen, nor all canst underOcean behind him billows, and before

stand A storm of waves breaks foamy on the strand. But this be thy best Omen—SAVE THY And hence, for times and seasons bloody and

COUNTRY! dark,

Thus saying, from the answering Maid he Short Peace shall skin the wounds of cau

pass’d, seless War,

And with him disappear'd the heavenly And War, his strained sinews knit anew,

Still violate th' unfinish'd works of Peace.
Bat yonder look! for more demands thy

Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and He said: and straightway from the opposite

Heaven !

All conscious PRESENCE of the Universe !
A Vapor sail'd, as when a cloud, exhaled Nature's vast ever-acting Energy!
From Egypt's fields that steam hot pesti- In Will, in Deed, IMPULSE of All to All!


Whether thy Love with unrefracted ray Travels the sky for many a trackless league, Beam on the Prophet's purged eye, or if, 'Till o'er some death-doom'd land, distant Diseasing realms, the EstHUSIAST, wild of in vain,

thought, It broods incumbent. Forthwith from the Scatter new frenzies on the infected Throng,


Thou Both inspiring and predooming Both, Facing the Isle, a brighter cloud arose, Fit INSTRUMENTs and best, of perfect End : And steer'd its course which way the Vapor Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!



The Maiden paus'd, musing what this might mean.

And first a Landscape rose, But long time pase'd not, ere that brighter More wild, and waste, and desolate, than cloud

where Returned more bright: along the Plain it The white bear, drifting on a field of ice,


Howls to her sundered cubs with piteous And soon from forth its bursting sides


And savage agony.
A dazzling Form, broad-bosom’d, bold of eye,
And wild her hair, save where with laurels

Not more majestic stood the healing God,

EXTRACTS FROM CHRISTABEL. When from his brow the arrow sped that

slew Hage Python. Shriek'd Ambition's giant

The night is chill; the forest bare;

Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?

throng, And with them hiss'd the Locust-fiends that to move away the ringlet-curl

There is not wind enough in the air

crawl'd And glitter'd in CORRUPTION's slimy track.

From the lovely Lady's cheekGreat was their wrath, for short they knew

There is not wind enough to twirl

The one red leaf, the last of its clan,

their reign: And such commotion made they, and uproar, Hanging so light, and hanging so high,

That dances as often as dance it can, As when the mad Tornado bellows through on the topmost twig that looks up to the sky. The guilty islands of the western main, What time departing from their native

shores, Eboe, or Koromantyn's plain of Palms, The infuriate spirits of the Murdered make

Alas! they had been friends in youth; Fierce merriment, and vengeance ask of

But whispering tongues can poison truth; Heaven.

And constancy lives in realms above; Warm'd with new influence, the unwhole- And life is thorny; and youth is vain;

And to be wroth with one we love,
some Plain

Doth work like madness in the brain.
Sent up its foulest fogs to meet the Morn:
The Sun that rose

And thus it chanc'd, as I divine,
on FREEDOM, rose in

With Roland and Sir Leoline.
Each spake words of high disdain

And insult to his heart's best brother:
Maiden belov'd, and Delegate of Heaven! They parted—ne'er to meet again!
(To her the tutelary Spirit said)

But never either found another Soon shall the Morning struggle into Day, To free the hollow heart froni painingThe stormy Morning into cloudless Noon.' | They stood aloof, the scars remaining,

Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; For nothing near it could I see,
A dreary sea now flows between,

Save the grass and green herbs underneath But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,

the old tree. Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been. And in my dream, methought, I went

To search out what might there be found;
And what the sweet bird's trouble meant,
That thus lay flattering on the ground.

I went and peer'd, and could descry

No cause for her distressful cry;

But yet for her dear lady's sake, Tay words, thou sire of Christabel, I stoop'd, methought the dove to take, Are sweeter than my harp can tell; When lo! I saw a bright green snake Yet might I gain a boon of thee,

Coil'd around its wings and neck. This day my journey should not be; Green as the herbs on which it couch'd, So strange a dream hath come to me, Close by the dove's its head it crouch'd; That I had vow'd with music loud

And with the dove it heaves and stirs, To clear yon wood from thing unblest, Swelling its neck as she swellid bers! Warn’d by a vision in my rest!

I woke; it was the midnight-hour, For in my sleep I saw that dove,

T'he clock was echoing in the tower; That gentle bird, whom thou dost love, But tho' my slumber was gone by, And callst by thy own daughter's name

This dream it would not pass awaySir Leoline! I saw the same,

It seems to live upon my eye! Fluttering, and uttering fearful moan, And thence I vow'd this self-same day, Among the green herbs in the forest alone. With music strong and saintly song Which when I saw and when I heard, To wander thro' the forest bare, I wonder'd what might ail the bird : Lest aught unholy loiter there.

N O T E S.

America to Great Britain.

(p. 305. venire posse, lactantem autem infantem, si quem This poem, written in the year 1810, by an habeat, ipsa mater in dorso bajulat, in excavato American Gentleman, a valued and dear friend, ligno quod pro conis utuntur: in hoc infans panI communicate to the reader for its moral, no less nis et pellibus convolutus colligatus jacet. LEENIUS. than its poetic spirit.

Armed with Torngarsuck's power

(p. 307 We are One.

[p. 306. This alludes merely to the moral union of the other great but malignant spirit is a nameless

They call the Good Spirit, Torngarsuck. The two Countries. The Author would not have it Female ; she dwells under the sea in a great supposed that the tribute of respect, offered in house, where she can detain in captivity all the these Stanzas to the Land of his Ancestors, would animals of the ocean by her magic power.

Wha be paid by him, if at the expense of the indepen- a dearth befalls the Greenlanders, an Angekok or dence of ihat which gave him birth.

magician must undertake a journey thitber: he Or Balda - Zhiok, or the mossy stone

passes through the kingdom of souls, over an hor. of Solfar-kapper, while the snowy blast rible abyss into the palace of this phanton, and Drifts arrouy by, or eddies round his sledge, by his enchantments causes the captive creatures Making the poor babe at its mother's back to ascend directly to the surface of the ocean. Scream in its scanty cradle.

(p. 307. Balda-Zhiok: i. e. mons altitudinis, the highest Eboe, or Koromantyn's plain of Palms,

What time departing from their native shores, mountain in Lapland. Solfar-Kapper: capitium The infuriate spirits of the Miurdered make Solfar, hic locus omnium, quotquot veterum Lap. 1 Fierce merriment,and vengeance ask of Hearen'p 31!. ponum superstitio sacrificiis religiosoque culiui

The Slaves in the West Indies consider death dedicavit, celebratissimus erat, in parte sinus australis situs, scmimilliaris spatio à mari distans. timent'is thus expressed in the introduction to u

as a passport to their native country. This sesIpse locus, quem curiositatis gratia aliquando me

Greek Prize-Ode on the Slave-Trade: invisisse memini, duabus præaltis lapidibus, sibi invicem oppositis, quorum alter musco circumda

LITERAL TRANSLATION. tus erat, constabat. LEEMIUS, de Lapponibus. The Leaving the Gates of Darkness, oh Death! kasten Lapland women carry their infants at their back thou to a Race yoked with Misery! Thon will in a piece of excavaied wood, which serves them not be received with lacerations of cheels, nor for a cradle Opposite to the infant's mouth there with funereal nlulation-but with circling daaces, is a hole for it to breathe through.- Mirandum and the joy of songs. Thou art terrible indeed, prorsus est et vix credibile nisi cui vidisse conti- yet thou dwelleth with LIBERTY, stern Geir git. Lappones hyeme iter facientes per vastos Borne on thy dark pinions over the swelling of montes, perque horrida et invia tesqua, eo pre- Ocean, they return to their native country. There. sertim tempore quo omnia perpetuis nivibus ob- by the side of Fountains beneath Citron-grores. tecia sont et nives ventis agiiantur et in gyros the lovers tell to their beloved what horror, being aguntor, viam ad destinata loca absque errore in-Men, they had endured from Men.

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