<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<div class="frontmatter">
<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagei" id="pagei" title="i"></SPAN>
<h1> THE POEMS<br/><small>OF<br/></small>GIACOMO LEOPARDI </h1>
<p><big>TRANSLATED<br/></big>BY<br/><big>FREDERICK TOWNSEND</big></p>
<p>NEW YORK AND LONDON<br/>G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS<br/>The Knickerbocker Press<br/>1887</p>
<p><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pageii" id="pageii" title="ii"></SPAN>COPYRIGHT
BY<br/>R. T. TOWNSEND<br/>1887</p>
<p>Press of<br/><span class="sc">G. P. Putnam’s Sons</span><br/>New York</p>
<p><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pageiii" id="pageiii" title="iii"></SPAN>TO M.
N. M.<br/>SISTER OF THE TRANSLATOR<br/>THESE POEMS<br/>ARE
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED<br/>BY THE EDITOR</p>
</div>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN name="pageiv" id="pageiv" title="iv"></SPAN><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagev" id="pagev" title="v"></SPAN>PREFACE. </h2>
<p>Giacomo Leopardi is a great name in Italy among philosophers and poets,
but is quite unknown in this country, and Mr. Townsend has the honor of
introducing him, in the most captivating way, to his countrymen. In
Germany and France he has excited attention. Translations have been made
of his works; essays have been written on his ideas. But in England his
name is all but unheard of. Six or seven years ago Mr. Charles Edwards
published a translation of the essays and dialogues, but no version of the
poems has appeared, so far as I know. Leopardi was substantially a poet,—that
is to say, he had imagination, sentiment, passion, an intense love of
beauty, a powerful impulse towards things ideal. The sad tone of his
speculations about the universe and human destiny gave an impression of
mournfulness to his lines, but this rather deepened the pathos of his
work. In<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagevi" id="pagevi" title="vi"></SPAN> the
same breath he sang of love and the grave, and the love was the more eager
for its brevity. He had the poetic temperament—sensitive, ardent,
aspiring. He possessed the poetic aspect—the broad white brow, the
large blue eyes. Some compared him to Byron, but the resemblance was
external merely. In ideas, purpose, feeling, he was entirely unlike the
Englishman; in the energy and fire of his style only did he somewhat
resemble him. Worshippers have even ventured to class him with Dante, a
comparison which shows, at least, in what estimation the poet could be
held at home, and how largely the patriotic sentiment entered into the
conception of poetical compositions, how necessary it was that the singer
should be a bard. His verses ranged over a large field. They were
philosophic, patriotic, amorous. There are odes, lyrics, satires, songs;
many very beautiful and feeling; all noble and earnest. His three poems,
“All’ Italia,” “Sopra il Monumento di Dante,”
“A Angelo Mai,” gave him a national reputation. They touch the
chords to which he always responded—patriotism, poetry, learning, a
national idealism bearing aloft an enormous weight of erudition and
thought.</p>
<p>Leopardi was born at Recanati, a small town<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagevii" id="pagevii" title="vii"></SPAN> about fifteen miles from
Ancona, in 1798. He was of noble parentage, though not rich. His early
disposition was joyous, but with the feverish joy of a highly-strung,
nervous organization. He was a great student from boyhood; and severe
application undermined a system that was never robust, and that soon
became hopelessly diseased. Illness, accompanied with sharp pain, clipped
the wings of his ambition, obliged him to forego preferment, and deepened
the hopelessness that hung over his expectations. His hunger for love
could not be satisfied, for his physical infirmity rendered a union
undesirable, even if possible, while a craving ideality soon transcended
any visible object of affection. He had warm friends of his own sex, one
of whom, Antonio Ranieri, stayed by him in all vicissitudes, took him to
Naples, and closed his eyes, June 14, 1837.</p>
<p>To this acute sensibility of frame must be added the torture of the heart
arising from a difference with his father, who, as a Catholic, was
disturbed by the skeptical tendencies of his son, and the perpetual
irritation of a conflict with the large majority of even philosophical
minds. An early death might have been anticipated. No amount of
hopefulness, of zest for life, of thirst for opportunity, of<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pageviii" id="pageviii" title="viii"></SPAN> genius
for intellectual productiveness will counteract such predisposition to
decay. The death of the body, however, has but ensured a speedier
immortality of the soul; for many a thinker has since been busy in
gathering up the fragments of his mind and keeping his memory fresh. His
immense learning has been forgotten. His archæological knowledge,
which fascinated Niebuhr, is of small account to-day. But his speculative
and poetical genius is a permanent illumination.</p>
<p>Mr. Townsend, the translator, well known in New York, where he was born,
lived ten years in Italy, and seven in Rome. He was a studious, thoughtful
man; quiet, secluded, scholarly; an eminent student of Italian literature;
a real sympathizer with Italian progress. By the cast of his mind and the
course of his inward experience he was drawn towards Leopardi. His version
adheres as closely to the original as is compatible with elegance and the
preservation of metrical grace. He has not rendered into English all
Leopardi’s poems, but he has presented the best of them, enough to give an
idea of his author’s style of feeling and expression. What he has done,
has been performed faithfully. It is worth remarking that he was attracted
by the intense longing of the poet for love and appreciation,<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pageix" id="pageix" title="ix"></SPAN> and by keen
sympathy with his unhappy condition. It is needless to say that he did not
share the pessimism that imparts a melancholy hue to the philosopher’s own
doctrine, and that might have been modified if not dispelled by a
different experience. The translation was finished at Siena, the summer of
the earthquake, and was the last work Mr. Townsend ever did, the commotion
outside not interrupting him, or causing him to suspend his application.</p>
<p class="sig sc">
O. B. Frothingham.</p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN name="pagex" id="pagex" title="x"></SPAN><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagexi" id="pagexi" title="xi"></SPAN>CONTENTS. </h2>
<table summary="Table of Contents">
<tr>
<td>
Dedication
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#pagexiii">xiii</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To Italy
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page1">1</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
On Dante’s Monument
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page7">7</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To Angelo Mai
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page15">15</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To His Sister Paolina
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page23">23</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To a Victor in the Game of <i>Pallone</i>
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page27">27</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Younger Brutus
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page30">30</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To the Spring
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page35">35</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Hymn to the Patriarchs
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page40">40</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Last Song of Sappho
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page45">45</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
First Love
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page48">48</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Lonely Sparrow
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page53">53</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Infinite
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page56">56</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Evening of the Holiday
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page57">57</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To The Moon
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page59">59</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Dream
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page60">60</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Lonely Life
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page64">64</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Consalvo
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page68">68</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagexii" id="pagexii" title="xii"></SPAN>To
the Beloved
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page74">74</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To Count Carlo Pepoli
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page77">77</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Resurrection
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page84">84</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To Sylvia
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page92">92</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Recollections
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page95">95</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Night-Song of a Wandering Shepherd in Asia
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page102">102</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Calm after Storm
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page108">108</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Village Saturday-Night
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page110">110</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Ruling Thought
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page113">113</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Love and Death
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page119">119</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
To Himself
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page124">124</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Aspasia
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page125">125</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
On an Old Sepulchral Bas-Relief
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page130">130</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
On the Portrait of a Beautiful Woman
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page135">135</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Palinodia
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page138">138</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Setting of the Moon
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page149">149</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
The Ginestra
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page152">152</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Imitation
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page165">165</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Scherzo
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page166">166</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Fragments
</td>
<td class="right">
<SPAN href="#page167">167</SPAN>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagexiii" id="pagexiii" title="xiii"></SPAN>Dedication. </h2>
<p class="central">
[From the first Florentine Edition of the Poems, in the year 1831.]</p>
<p><i>To my Friends in Tuscany:</i></p>
<p>My dear Friends, I dedicate this book to you, in which, as is oft the case
with Poets, I have sought to illustrate my sorrow, and with which I now—I
cannot say it without tears—take leave of Literature and of my
studies. I hoped these dear studies would have been the consolation of my
old age, and thought, after having lost all the other joys and blessings
of childhood and of youth, I had secured <i>one</i>, of which no power, no
unhappiness could rob me. But I was scarcely twenty years old, when that
weakness of nerves and of stomach, which has destroyed my life, and yet
gives me no hope of death, robbed that only blessing of more than half its
value, and, in my twenty-eighth year, has utterly deprived me of it, and,
as I <i>must</i> think, forever. I<SPAN class="pagebreak" name="pagexiv" id="pagexiv" title="xiv"></SPAN> have not been able to read these pages, and
have been compelled to entrust their revision to other eyes and other
hands. I will utter no more complaints, my dear friends; the consciousness
of the depth of my affliction admits not of complaints and lamentations. I
have lost all; I am a withered branch, that feels and suffers still. <i>You</i>
only have I won! Your society, which must compensate me for all my
studies, joys, and hopes, would almost outweigh my sorrows, did not my
very sickness prevent me from enjoying it as I could wish, and did I not
know that Fate will soon deprive me of this benefit, also, and will compel
me to spend the remainder of my days, far from all the delights of
civilized life, in a spot, far better suited to the dead than to the
living. Your love, meanwhile, will ever follow me, and will yet cling to
me, perhaps, when this body, which, indeed, no longer lives, shall be
turned to ashes. Farewell! Your</p>
<p class="sig">
Leopardi.</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page1" id="page1" title="1"></SPAN>TO ITALY. (1818.) </h2>
<p><span class="i0">My country, I the walls, the arches see,</span>
<span class="i0">The columns, statues, and the towers</span> <span class="i0">Deserted, of our ancestors;</span> <span class="i0">But,
ah, the glory I do not behold,</span> <span class="i0">The laurel
and the sword, that graced</span> <span class="i0">Our sires of
old.</span> <span class="i0">Now, all unarmed, a naked brow,</span>
<span class="i0">A naked breast dost thou display.</span> <span class="i0">Ah, me, how many wounds, what stains of blood!</span>
<span class="i0">Oh, what a sight art thou,</span> <span class="i0">Most
beautiful of women! I</span> <span class="i0">To heaven cry aloud,
and to the world:</span> <span class="i0">“Who hath reduced
her to this pass?</span> <span class="i0">Say, say!” And
worst of all, alas,</span> <span class="i0">See, both her arms in
chains are bound!</span> <span class="i0">With hair dishevelled,
and without a veil</span> <span class="i0">She sits, disconsolate,
upon the ground,</span> <span class="i0">And hides her face between
her knees,</span> <span class="i0">As she bewails her miseries.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page2" id="page2" title="2"></SPAN>Oh,
weep, my Italy, for thou hast cause;</span> <span class="i0">Thou,
who wast born the nations to subdue,</span> <span class="i0">As
victor, and as victim, too!</span> <span class="i0">Oh, if thy eyes
two living fountains were,</span> <span class="i0">The volume of
their tears could ne’er express</span> <span class="i0">Thy utter
helplessness, thy shame;</span> <span class="i0">Thou, who wast
once the haughty dame,</span> <span class="i0">And, now, the
wretched slave.</span> <span class="i0">Who speaks, or writes of
thee,</span> <span class="i0">That must not bitterly exclaim:</span>
<span class="i0">“She once was great, but, oh, behold her now”?</span>
<span class="i0">Why hast thou fallen thus, oh, why?</span> <span class="i0">Where is the ancient force?</span> <span class="i0">Where
are the arms, the valor, constancy?</span> <span class="i0">Who
hath deprived thee of thy sword?</span> <span class="i0">What
treachery, what skill, what labor vast,</span> <span class="i0">Or
what o’erwhelming horde</span> <span class="i0">Whose fierce,
invading tide, thou could’st not stem,</span> <span class="i0">Hath
robbed thee of thy robe and diadem?</span> <span class="i0">From
such a height how couldst thou fall so low?</span> <span class="i0">Will
none defend thee? No?</span> <span class="i0">No son of thine? For
arms, for arms, I call;</span> <span class="i0">Alone I’ll fight
for thee, alone will fall.</span> <span class="i0">And from my
blood, a votive offering,</span> <span class="i0">May flames of
fire in every bosom spring!</span> <span class="i0">Where are thy
sons? The sound of arms I hear,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page3" id="page3" title="3"></SPAN>Of chariots, of
voices, and of drums;</span> <span class="i0">From foreign lands it
comes,</span> <span class="i0">For which thy children fight.</span>
<span class="i0">Oh, hearken, hearken, Italy! I see,—</span>
<span class="i0">Or is it but a dream?—</span> <span class="i0">A wavering of horse and foot,</span> <span class="i0">And
smoke, and dust, and flashing swords,</span> <span class="i0">That
like the lightning gleam.</span> <span class="i0">Art thou not
comforted? Dost turn away</span> <span class="i0">Thy eyes, in
horror, from the doubtful fray?</span> <span class="i0">Ye gods, ye
gods. Oh, can it be?</span> <span class="i0">The youth of Italy</span>
<span class="i0">Their hireling swords for other lands have bared!</span>
<span class="i0">Oh, wretched he in war who falls,</span> <span class="i0">Not for his native shores,</span> <span class="i0">His
loving wife and children dear,</span> <span class="i0">But,
fighting for another’s gain,</span> <span class="i0">And by
another’s foe is slain!</span> <span class="i0">Nor can he say, as
his last breath he draws,</span> <span class="i0">“My
mother-land, beloved, ah see,</span> <span class="i0">The life thou
gav’st, I render back to thee!”</span> <span class="i0">Oh
fortunate and dear and blessed,</span> <span class="i0">The ancient
days, when rushed to death the brave,</span> <span class="i0">In
crowds, their country’s life to save!</span> <span class="i0">And
you, forever glorious,</span> <span class="i0">Thessalian straits,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page4" id="page4" title="4"></SPAN>Where
Persia, Fate itself, could not withstand</span> <span class="i0">The
fiery zeal of that devoted band!</span> <span class="i0">Do not the
trees, the rocks, the waves,</span> <span class="i0">The mountains,
to each passer-by,</span> <span class="i0">With low and plaintive
voice tell</span> <span class="i0">The wondrous tale of those who
fell,</span> <span class="i0">Heroes invincible who gave</span>
<span class="i0">Their lives, their Greece to save?</span> <span class="i0">Then cowardly as fierce,</span> <span class="i0">Xerxes
across the Hellespont retired,</span> <span class="i0">A
laughing-stock to all succeeding time;</span> <span class="i0">And
up Anthela’s hill, where, e’en in death</span> <span class="i0">The
sacred Band immortal life obtained,</span> <span class="i0">Simonides
slow-climbing, thoughtfully,</span> <span class="i0">Looked forth
on sea and shore and sky.</span> <span class="i0">And then, his
cheeks with tears bedewed,</span> <span class="i0">And heaving
breast, and trembling foot, he stood,</span> <span class="i0">His
lyre in hand and sang:</span> <span class="i0">“O ye, forever
blessed,</span> <span class="i0">Who bared your breasts unto the
foeman’s lance,</span> <span class="i0">For love of her, who gave
you birth;</span> <span class="i0">By Greece revered, and by the
world admired,</span> <span class="i0">What ardent love your
youthful minds inspired,</span> <span class="i0">To rush to arms,
such perils dire to meet,</span> <span class="i0">A fate so hard,
with loving smiles to greet?</span> <span class="i0">Her children,
why so joyously,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page5" id="page5" title="5"></SPAN>Ran ye, that stern and rugged pass
to guard?</span> <span class="i0">As if unto a dance,</span>
<span class="i0">Or to some splendid feast,</span> <span class="i0">Each
one appeared to haste,</span> <span class="i0">And not grim death
Death to brave;</span> <span class="i0">But Tartarus awaited ye,</span>
<span class="i0">And the cold Stygian wave;</span> <span class="i0">Nor
were your wives or children at your side,</span> <span class="i0">When,
on that rugged shore,</span> <span class="i0">Without a kiss,
without a tear, ye died.</span> <span class="i0">But not without a
fearful blow</span> <span class="i0">To Persians dealt, and their
undying shame.</span> <span class="i0">As at a herd of bulls a lion
glares,</span> <span class="i0">Then, plunging in, upon the back</span>
<span class="i0">Of this one leaps, and with his claws</span> <span class="i0">A passage all along his chine he tears,</span> <span class="i0">And fiercely drives his teeth into his sides,</span>
<span class="i0">Such havoc Grecian wrath and valor made</span>
<span class="i0">Amongst the Persian ranks, dismayed.</span> <span class="i0">Behold each prostrate rider and his steed;</span> <span class="i0">Behold the chariots, and the fallen tents,</span> <span class="i0">A tangled mass their flight impede;</span> <span class="i0">And see, among the first to fly,</span> <span class="i0">The
tyrant, pale, and in disorder wild!</span> <span class="i0">See,
how the Grecian youths,</span> <span class="i0">With blood barbaric
dyed,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page6" id="page6" title="6"></SPAN>And dealing death on every side,</span>
<span class="i0">By slow degrees by their own wounds subdued,</span>
<span class="i0">The one upon the other fall. Farewell,</span>
<span class="i0">Ye heroes blessed, whose names shall live,</span>
<span class="i0">While tongue can speak, or pen your story tell!</span>
<span title="Original began with a double-quote" class="i0">Sooner the
stars, torn from their spheres, shall hiss,</span> <span class="i0">Extinguished
in the bottom of the sea,</span> <span class="i0">Than the dear
memory, and love of you,</span> <span class="i0">Shall suffer loss,
or injury.</span> <span class="i0">Your tomb an altar is; the
mothers here</span> <span class="i0">Shall come, unto their little
ones to show</span> <span class="i0">The lovely traces of your
blood. Behold,</span> <span class="i0">Ye blessed, myself upon the
ground I throw,</span> <span class="i0">And kiss these stones,
these clods</span> <span class="i0">Whose fame, unto the end of
time,</span> <span class="i0">Shall sacred be in every clime.</span>
<span class="i0">Oh, had I, too, been here with you,</span> <span class="i0">And this dear earth had moistened with my blood!</span>
<span class="i0">But since stern Fate would not consent</span>
<span class="i0">That I for Greece my dying eyes should close,</span>
<span class="i0">In conflict with her foes,</span> <span class="i0">Still
may the gracious gods accept</span> <span class="i0">The offering I
bring,</span> <span class="i0">And grant to me the precious boon,</span>
<span class="i0">Your Hymn of Praise to sing!”</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page7" id="page7" title="7"></SPAN>ON DANTE’S MONUMENT, 1818.<small>(THEN UNFINISHED.)</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Though all the nations now</span> <span class="i0">Peace
gathers under her white wings,</span> <span class="i0">The minds of
Italy will ne’er be free</span> <span class="i0">From the
restraints of their old lethargy,</span> <span class="i0">Till our
ill-fated land cling fast</span> <span class="i0">Unto the glorious
memories of the Past.</span> <span class="i0">Oh, lay it to thy
heart, my Italy,</span> <span class="i0">Fit honor to thy dead to
pay;</span> <span class="i0">For, ah, their like walk not thy
streets to-day!</span> <span class="i0">Nor is there one whom thou
canst reverence!</span> <span class="i0">Turn, turn, my country,
and behold</span> <span class="i0">That noble band of heroes old,</span>
<span class="i0">And weep, and on thyself thy anger vent,</span>
<span class="i0">For without anger, grief is impotent:</span> <span class="i0">Oh, turn, and rouse thyself for shame,</span> <span class="i0">Blush at the thought of sires so great,</span> <span class="i0">Of children so degenerate!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Alien in mien, in genius, and in speech,</span>
<span class="i0">The eager guest from far</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page8" id="page8" title="8"></SPAN>Went searching
through the Tuscan soil to find</span> <span class="i0">Where he
reposed, whose verse sublime</span> <span class="i0">Might fitly
rank with Homer’s lofty rhyme;</span> <span class="i0">And oh! to
our disgrace he heard</span> <span class="i0">Not only that, e’er
since his dying day,</span> <span class="i0">In other soil his
bones in exile lay,</span> <span class="i0">But not a stone within
thy walls was reared</span> <span class="i0">To him, O Florence,
whose renown</span> <span class="i0">Caused thee to be by all the
world revered.</span> <span class="i0">Thanks to the brave, the
generous band,</span> <span class="i0">Whose timely labor from our
land</span> <span class="i0">Will this sad, shameful stain remove!</span>
<span class="i0">A noble task is yours,</span> <span class="i0">And
every breast with kindred zeal hath fired,</span> <span class="i0">That
is by love of Italy inspired.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">May love of Italy inspire you still,</span> <span class="i0">Poor mother, sad and lone,</span> <span class="i0">To
whom no pity now</span> <span class="i0">In any breast is shown,</span>
<span class="i0">Now, that to golden days the evil days succeed.</span>
<span class="i0">May pity still, ye children dear,</span> <span class="i0">Your hearts unite, your labors crown,</span> <span class="i0">And grief and anger at her cruel pain,</span> <span class="i0">As on her cheeks and veil the hot tears rain!</span>
<span class="i0">But how can I, in speech or song,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page9" id="page9" title="9"></SPAN>Your
praises fitly sing,</span> <span class="i0">To whose mature and
careful thought,</span> <span class="i0">The work superb, in your
proud task achieved,</span> <span class="i0">Will fame immortal
bring?</span> <span class="i0">What notes of cheer can I now send
to you,</span> <span class="i0">That may unto your ardent souls
appeal,</span> <span class="i0">And add new fervor to your zeal?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Your lofty theme will inspiration give,</span>
<span title="Original read 'And its sharps thorns'" class="i0">And its
sharp thorns within your bosoms lodge.</span> <span class="i0">Who
can describe the whirlwind and the storm</span> <span class="i0">Of
your deep anger, and your deeper love?</span> <span class="i0">Who
can your wonder-stricken looks portray,</span> <span class="i0">The
lightning in your eyes that gleams?</span> <span class="i0">What
mortal tongue can such celestial themes</span> <span class="i0">In
language fit describe?</span> <span class="i0">Away ye souls,
profane, away!</span> <span class="i0">What tears will o’er this
marble stone be shed!</span> <span class="i0">How can it fall? How
fall your fame sublime,</span> <span class="i0">A victim to the
envious tooth of Time?</span> <span class="i0">O ye, that can
alleviate our woes,</span> <span class="i0">Sole comfort of this
wretched land,</span> <span class="i0">Live ever, ye dear Arts
divine,</span> <span class="i0">Amid the ruins of our fallen state,</span>
<span class="i0">The glories of the past to celebrate!</span> <span class="i0">I, too, who wish to pay</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page10" id="page10" title="10"></SPAN>Due honor to
our grieving mother, bring</span> <span class="i0">Of song my
humble offering,</span> <span class="i0">As here I sit, and listen,
where</span> <span class="i0">Your chisel life unto the marble
gives.</span> <span class="i0">O thou, illustrious sire of Tuscan
song,</span> <span class="i0">If tidings e’er of earthly things,</span>
<span class="i0">Of <i>her</i>, whom thou hast placed so high,</span>
<span class="i0">Could reach your mansions in the sky,</span> <span class="i0">I know, thou for thyself no joy wouldst feel,</span>
<span class="i0">For, with thy fame compared,</span> <span class="i0">Renowned in every land,</span> <span class="i0">Our
bronze and marble are as wax and sand;</span> <span class="i0">If
thee we <i>have</i> forgotten, <i>can</i> forget,</span> <span class="i0">May suffering still follow suffering,</span> <span class="i0">And may thy race to all the world unknown,</span> <span class="i0">In endless sorrows weep and moan.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou for thyself no joy wouldst feel,</span> <span class="i0">But for thy native land,</span> <span class="i0">If the
example of their sires</span> <span class="i0">Could in the cold
and sluggish sons</span> <span class="i0">Renew once more the
ancient fires,</span> <span class="i0">That they might lift their
heads in pride again.</span> <span class="i0">Alas, with what
protracted sufferings</span> <span class="i0">Thou seest her
afflicted, that, e’en then</span> <span class="i0">Did seem to know
no end,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page11" id="page11" title="11"></SPAN>When thou anew didst unto Paradise ascend!</span>
<span class="i0">Reduced so low, that, as thou seest her now,</span>
<span class="i0">She then a happy Queen appeared.</span> <span class="i0">Such misery her heart doth grieve,</span> <span class="i0">As, seeing, thou canst not thy eyes believe.</span>
<span class="i0">And oh, the last, most bitter blow of all,</span>
<span class="i0">When on the ground, as she in anguish lay,</span>
<span class="i0">It seemed, indeed, thy country’s dying day!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O happy thou, whom Fate did not condemn</span>
<span class="i0">To live amid such horrors; who</span> <span class="i0">Italian wives didst not behold</span> <span class="i0">By
ruffian troops embraced;</span> <span class="i0">Nor cities
plundered, fields laid waste</span> <span class="i0">By hostile
spear, and foreign rage;</span> <span class="i0">Nor works divine
of genius borne away</span> <span class="i0">In sad captivity,
beyond the Alps,</span> <span class="i0">The roads encumbered with
the precious prey;</span> <span class="i0">Nor foreign rulers’
insolence and pride;</span> <span class="i0">Nor didst insulting
voices hear,</span> <span class="i0">Amidst the sound of chains and
whips,</span> <span class="i0">The sacred name of Liberty deride.</span>
<span class="i0">Who suffers not? Oh! at these wretches’ hands,</span>
<span class="i0">What have we not endured?</span> <span class="i0">From
what unholy deed have they refrained?</span> <span class="i0">What
temple, altar, have they not profaned?</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page12" id="page12" title="12"></SPAN>Why have we
fallen on such evil times?</span> <span class="i0">Why didst thou
give us birth, or why</span> <span class="i0">No sooner suffer us
to die,</span> <span class="i0">O cruel Fate? We, who have seen</span>
<span class="i0">Our wretched country so betrayed,</span> <span class="i0">The handmaid, slave of impious strangers made,</span>
<span class="i0">And of her ancient virtues all bereft;</span>
<span class="i0">Yet could no aid or comfort give.</span> <span class="i0">Or ray of hope, that might relieve</span> <span class="i0">The anguish of her soul.</span> <span class="i0">Alas,
my blood has not been shed for thee,</span> <span class="i0">My
country dear! Nor have I died</span> <span class="i0">That thou
mightst live!</span> <span class="i0">My heart with anger and with
pity bleeds.</span> <span class="i0">Ah, bitter thought! Thy
children fought and fell;</span> <span class="i0">But not for dying
Italy, ah, no,</span> <span class="i0">But in the service of her
cruel foe!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Father, if this enrage thee not,</span> <span class="i0">How changed art thou from what thou wast on earth!</span>
<span class="i0">On Russia’s plains, so bleak and desolate,</span>
<span class="i0">They died, the sons of Italy;</span> <span class="i0">Ah, well deserving of a better fate!</span> <span class="i0">In cruel war with men, with beasts,</span> <span class="i0">The elements! In heaps they strewed the ground;</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page13" id="page13" title="13"></SPAN>Half-clad, emaciated, stained with blood,</span>
<span class="i0">A bed of ice for their sick frames they found.</span>
<span class="i0">Then, when the parting hour drew near,</span>
<span class="i0">In fond remembrance of that mother dear,</span>
<span class="i0">They cried: “Oh had we fallen by the foeman’s
hand,</span> <span class="i0">And not the victims of the clouds and
storms,</span> <span class="i0">And for <i>thy</i> good, our native
land!</span> <span class="i0">Now, far from thee, and in the bloom
of youth,</span> <span class="i0">Unknown to all, we yield our
parting breath,</span> <span class="i0">And die for <i>her</i>, who
caused our country’s death!”</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The northern desert and the whispering groves,</span>
<span class="i0">Sole witnesses of their lament,</span> <span class="i0">As thus they passed away!</span> <span class="i0">And
their neglected corpses, as they lay</span> <span class="i0">Upon
that horrid sea of snow exposed,</span> <span class="i0">Were by
the beasts consumed;</span> <span class="i0">The memories of the
brave and good,</span> <span class="i0">And of the coward and the
vile,</span> <span class="i0">Unto the same oblivion doomed!</span>
<span class="i0">Dear souls, though infinite your wretchedness,</span>
<span class="i0">Rest, rest in peace! And yet what peace is yours,</span>
<span class="i0">Who can no comfort ever know</span> <span class="i0">While Time endures!</span> <span class="i0">Rest in the
depths of your unmeasured woe,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page14" id="page14" title="14"></SPAN>O ye, <i>her</i>
children true,</span> <span class="i0">Whose fate alone with hers
may vie,</span> <span class="i0">In endless, hopeless misery!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But she rebukes you not,</span> <span class="i0">Ah,
no, but these alone,</span> <span class="i0">Who forced you with
her to contend;</span> <span class="i0">And still her bitter tears
she blends with yours,</span> <span class="i0">In wretchedness that
knows no end.</span> <span class="i0">Oh that some pity in the
heart were born,</span> <span class="i0">For her, who hath all
other glories won,</span> <span class="i0">Of one, who from this
dark, profound abyss,</span> <span class="i0">Her weak and weary
feet could guide!</span> <span class="i0">Thou glorious shade, oh!
say,</span> <span class="i0">Does no one love thy Italy?</span>
<span class="i0">Say, is the flame that kindled thee extinct?</span>
<span class="i0">And will that myrtle never bloom again,</span>
<span class="i0">That hath so long consoled us in our pain?</span>
<span class="i0">Must all our garlands wither in the dust?</span>
<span class="i0">And shall we a redeemer never see,</span> <span class="i0">Who may, in part, at least, resemble thee?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Are we forever lost?</span> <span class="i0">Is
there no limit to our shame?</span> <span class="i0">I, while I
live, will never cease to cry:</span> <span class="i0">“Degenerate
race, think of thy ancestry!</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page15" id="page15" title="15"></SPAN>Behold these
ruins vast,</span> <span class="i0">These pictures, statues,
temples, poems grand!</span> <span class="i0">Think of the glories
of thy native land!</span> <span class="i0">If they thy soul cannot
inspire or warn,</span> <span class="i0">Why linger here? Arise!
Begone!</span> <span class="i0">This holy ground must not be thus
defiled,</span> <span class="i0">And must no shelter give</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the coward and the slave!</span> <span class="i0">Far better were the silence of the grave!”</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO ANGELO MAI,<small>ON HIS DISCOVERY OF THE LOST BOOKS OF CICERO, “DE REPUBLICA.”</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Italian bold, why wilt thou never cease</span>
<span class="i0">The fathers from their tombs to summon forth?</span>
<span class="i0">Why bring them, with this dead age to converse,</span>
<span class="i0">That stifled is by enemies and by sloth?</span>
<span class="i0">And why dost thou, voice of our ancestors,</span>
<span class="i0">That hast so long been mute,</span> <span class="i0">Resound so loud and frequent in our ears?</span> <span class="i0">Why all these grand discoveries?</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page16" id="page16" title="16"></SPAN>As in a flash
the fruitful pages come,</span> <span class="i0">What hath this
wretched age deserved,</span> <span class="i0">That dusty cloisters
have for it reserved</span> <span class="i0">These hidden treasures
of the wise and brave?</span> <span class="i0">Illustrious man,
with what strange power</span> <span class="i0">Does Fate thy
ardent zeal befriend?</span> <span class="i0">Or does Fate vainly
with man’s will contend?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Without the lofty counsel of the gods,</span>
<span class="i0">It surely could not be, that now,</span> <span class="i0">When we were never sunk so low,</span> <span class="i0">In
desperate oblivion of the Past,</span> <span class="i0">Each
moment, comes a cry renewed,</span> <span class="i0">From our great
sires, to shake our souls, at last!</span> <span class="i0">Heaven
still some pity shows for Italy;</span> <span class="i0">Some god
hath still our happiness at heart:</span> <span class="i0">Since
this, or else no other, is the hour,</span> <span class="i0">Italian
virtue to redeem,</span> <span class="i0">And its old lustre once
more to impart,</span> <span class="i0">These pleading voices from
the grave we hear;</span> <span class="i0">Forgotten heroes rise
from earth again,</span> <span class="i0">To see, my country, if at
this late day,</span> <span class="i0">Thou still art pleased the
coward’s part to play.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And do ye cherish still,</span> <span class="i0">Illustrious
shades, some hope of us?</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page17" id="page17" title="17"></SPAN>Have we not
perished utterly?</span> <span class="i0">To you, perhaps, it is
allowed, to read</span> <span class="i0">The book of destiny. <i>I</i>
am dismayed,</span> <span class="i0">And have no refuge from my
grief;</span> <span class="i0">For dark to me the future is, and
all</span> <span class="i0">That I discern is such, as makes hope
seem</span> <span class="i0">A fable and a dream. To your old homes</span>
<span class="i0">A wretched crew succeed; to noble act or word,</span>
<span class="i0">They pay no heed; for your eternal fame</span>
<span class="i0">They know no envy, feel no blush of shame.</span>
<span class="i0">A filthy mob your monuments defile:</span> <span class="i0">To ages yet unborn,</span> <span class="i0">We have
become a by-word and a scorn.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou noble spirit, if no others care</span> <span class="i0">For our great Fathers’ fame, oh, care thou still,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou, to whom Fate hath so benignant been,</span>
<span class="i0">That those old days appear again,</span> <span class="i0">When, roused from dire oblivion’s tomb,</span> <span class="i0">Came forth, with all the treasures of their lore,</span>
<span class="i0">Those ancient bards, divine, with whom</span>
<span class="i0">Great Nature spake, but still behind her veil,</span>
<span class="i0">And with her mysteries graced</span> <span class="i0">The holidays of Athens and of Rome.</span> <span class="i0">O times, now buried in eternal sleep!</span> <span class="i0">Our country’s ruin was not then complete;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page18" id="page18" title="18"></SPAN>We
then a life of wretched sloth disdained;</span> <span class="i0">Still
from our native soil were borne afar,</span> <span class="i0">Some
sparks of genius by the passing air.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thy holy ashes still were warm,</span> <span class="i0">Whom hostile fortune ne’er unmanned;</span> <span class="i0">Unto whose anger and whose grief,</span> <span class="i0">Hell
was more grateful than thy native land.</span> <span class="i0">Ah,
what, but hell, has Italy become?</span> <span class="i0">And thy
sweet cords</span> <span class="i0">Still trembled at the touch of
thy right hand,</span> <span class="i0">Unhappy bard of love.</span>
<span class="i0">Alas, Italian song is still the child</span> <span class="i0">Of sorrow born.</span> <span class="i0">And yet, less
hard to bear,</span> <span class="i0">Consuming grief than dull
vacuity!</span> <span class="i0">O blessed thou, whose life was one
lament!</span> <span class="i0">Disgust and nothingness are still
our doom,</span> <span class="i0">And by our cradle sit, and on our
tomb.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But thy life, then, was with the stars and sea,</span>
<span class="i0">Liguria’s hardy son,</span> <span class="i0">When
thou, beyond the columns and the shores,</span> <span class="i0">Where
oft, at set of sun,</span> <span class="i0">The waves are heard to
hiss,</span> <span class="i0">As he into their depths has plunged,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page19" id="page19" title="19"></SPAN>Committed to the boundless deep,</span> <span class="i0">Didst find again the sun’s declining ray,</span> <span class="i0">The new-born day didst find,</span> <span class="i0">When
it from us had passed away;</span> <span class="i0">Defying
Nature’s every obstacle,</span> <span class="i0">A land unknown
didst win, the glorious spoils</span> <span class="i0">Of all thy
perils, all thy toils.</span> <span class="i0">And yet, when known,
the world seems smaller still;</span> <span class="i0">And earth
and ocean, and the heavenly sphere</span> <span class="i0">More
vast unto the child, than to the sage appear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Where now are all the charming dreams</span> <span class="i0">Of the mysterious retreats</span> <span class="i0">Of
dwellers unto us unknown,</span> <span class="i0">Or where, by day,
the stars to rest have gone,</span> <span class="i0">Or of the
couch remote of Eos bright,</span> <span class="i0">Or of the sun’s
mysterious sleep at night?</span> <span class="i0">They, in an
instant, vanished all;</span> <span class="i0">A little chart
portrays this earthly ball.</span> <span class="i0">Lo, all things
are alike; discovery</span> <span class="i0">But proves the way for
dull vacuity.</span> <span class="i0">Farewell to thee, O Fancy,
dear,</span> <span class="i0">If plain, unvarnished truth appear!</span>
<span class="i0">Thought more and more is still estranged from thee;</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page20" id="page20" title="20"></SPAN>Thy power so mighty once, will soon be gone,</span>
<span class="i0">And our poor, wounded hearts be left forlorn.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But thou for these sweet dreams wast born,</span>
<span class="i0">And the <i>old</i> sun upon thee shone,</span>
<span class="i0">Delightful singer of the arms, and loves,</span>
<span class="i0">That in an age far happier than our own,</span>
<span class="i0">Men’s lives with pleasing errors filled.</span>
<span class="i0">New hope of Italy! O towers, O caves,</span> <span class="i0">O ladies, cavaliers,</span> <span class="i0">O gardens,
palaces! Amenites,</span> <span class="i0">At thought of which, the
mind</span> <span class="i0">Is lost in thousand splendid reveries!</span>
<span class="i0">Ye lovely fables, and ye thoughts grotesque,</span>
<span class="i0">Now banished! And what to us remains?</span> <span class="i0">Now that the bloom from all things is removed?</span>
<span class="i0">Alas, the sole, the certain thought,</span> <span class="i0">That all except our wretchedness, is nought.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Torquato, O Torquato, heaven to us</span> <span class="i0">The rich gift of thy genius gave, to thee</span> <span class="i0">Nought else but misery.</span> <span class="i0">Ill-starred
Torquato, whom thy song,</span> <span class="i0">So sweet, could
not console,</span> <span class="i0">Nor melt the ice, to which</span>
<span class="i0">The genial current of thy soul</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page21" id="page21" title="21"></SPAN>Was
turned, by private envy, princely hate;</span> <span class="i0">And
then, by Love abandoned, life’s last dream!</span> <span class="i0">To
thee, nought real seemed but nothingness,</span> <span class="i0">The
world a dreary wilderness.</span> <span class="i0">Too late the
honors came, so long deferred;</span> <span class="i0">And yet, to
die was unto thee a gain.</span> <span class="i0">Who knows the
evils of our mortal state,</span> <span class="i0">Demands but
death, no garland asks, of Fate.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Return, return to us,</span> <span class="i0">Rise
from thy silent, dreary tomb,</span> <span class="i0">And feast
thine eyes on our distress,</span> <span class="i0">O thou, whose
life was crowned with wretchedness!</span> <span class="i0">Far
worse than what appeared to thee so sad</span> <span class="i0">And
infamous, have all our lives become.</span> <span class="i0">Dear
friend, who now would pity thee,</span> <span class="i0">When none
save for himself hath thought or care?</span> <span class="i0">Who
would not thy keen anguish folly call,</span> <span class="i0">When
all things great and rare the name of folly bear?</span> <span class="i0">When envy, no, but worse than envy, far,</span> <span class="i0">Indifference pervades our rulers all?</span> <span class="i0">Ah, who would now, when we all think</span> <span class="i0">Of song so little, and so much of gain,</span> <span class="i0">A laurel for thy brow prepare again?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page22" id="page22" title="22"></SPAN>Ah, since thy day, there has appeared but one,</span>
<span class="i0">Who has the fame of Italy redeemed:</span> <span class="i0">Too good for his vile age, he stands alone;</span> <span class="i0">One of the fierce Allobroges,</span> <span class="i0">Whose
manly virtue was derived</span> <span class="i0">Direct from
heavenly powers,</span> <span class="i0">Not from this dry,
unfruitful earth of ours;</span> <span class="i0">Whence he alone,
unarmed,—</span> <span class="i0">O matchless courage!—from
the stage,</span> <span class="i0">Did war upon the ruthless
tyrants wage;</span> <span class="i0">The only war, the only weapon
left,</span> <span class="i0">Against the crimes and follies of the
age.</span> <span class="i0">First, and alone, he took the field:</span>
<span class="i0">None followed him; all else were cowards tame,</span>
<span class="i0">Lost to all sense of honor, or of shame.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Devoured by anger and by grief,</span> <span class="i0">His spotless life he passed,</span> <span class="i0">Till
from worse scenes released by death, at last.</span> <span class="i0">O my Victorio, this was not for thee</span> <span class="i0">The fitting age, or land.</span> <span class="i0">Great
souls congenial times and climes demand.</span> <span class="i0">In
mere repose we live content,</span> <span class="i0">And vulgar
mediocrity;</span> <span class="i0">The wise man sinks, the mob
ascends,</span> <span class="i0">Till all at last in one dread
level ends.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page23" id="page23" title="23"></SPAN>Go on, thou great discoverer!</span>
<span class="i0">Revive the dead, since all the living sleep!</span>
<span class="i0">Dead tongues of ancient heroes arm anew;</span>
<span class="i0">Till this vile age a new life strive to win</span>
<span class="i0">By noble deeds, or perish in its sin!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO HIS SISTER PAOLINA,<small>ON HER APPROACHING MARRIAGE.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Since now thou art about to leave</span> <span class="i0">Thy father’s quiet house,</span> <span class="i0">And
all the phantoms and illusions dear,</span> <span class="i0">That
heaven-born fancies round it weave,</span> <span class="i0">And to
this lonely region lend their charm,</span> <span class="i0">Unto
the dust and noise of life condemned,</span> <span class="i0">By
destiny, soon wilt thou learn to see</span> <span class="i0">Our
wretchedness and infamy,</span> <span class="i0">My sister dear,
who, in these mournful times,</span> <span class="i0">Alas, wilt
more unhappy souls bestow</span> <span class="i0">On our unhappy
Italy!</span> <span class="i0">With strong examples strengthen thou
their minds;</span> <span class="i0">For cruel fate propitious
gales</span> <span class="i0">Hath e’er to virtue’s course denied,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor in weak souls can purity reside.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page24" id="page24" title="24"></SPAN>Thy sons must either poor, or cowards be.</span>
<span class="i0">Prefer them poor. It is the custom still.</span>
<span class="i0">Desert and fortune never yet were friends;</span>
<span class="i0">The strife between them never ends.</span> <span class="i0">Unhappy they, who in these evil days</span> <span class="i0">Are born when all things totter to their fall!</span>
<span class="i0">But that we must to heaven leave.</span> <span class="i0">Be this, above all things, thy care,</span> <span class="i0">Thy children still to rear,</span> <span class="i0">As
those who court not Fortune’s smiles,</span> <span class="i0">Nor
playthings are of idle hope, or fear:</span> <span class="i0">And
so the future age will call them blessed;</span> <span class="i0">For,
in this slothful and deceitful world,</span> <span class="i0">The
living virtue ever we despise,</span> <span class="i0">The dead we
load with eulogies.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Women, to you our country looks,</span> <span class="i0">For the redemption of her fame:</span> <span class="i0">Ah,
not unto our injury and shame,</span> <span class="i0">On the soft
lustre of your eyes</span> <span class="i0">A power far mightier
was conferred</span> <span class="i0">Than that of fire or sword!</span>
<span class="i0">The wise and strong, in thought and act, are by</span>
<span class="i0">Your judgment led; nay all who live</span> <span class="i0">Beneath the sun, to you still bend the knee.</span>
<span class="i0">On you I call, then; answer me!</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page25" id="page25" title="25"></SPAN>Have
<i>you</i> youth’s holy aspirations quenched?</span> <span class="i0">And are our natures broken, crushed by <i>you</i>?</span>
<span class="i0">These sluggish minds, these low desires,</span>
<span class="i0">These nerveless arms, these feeble knees.</span>
<span class="i0">Say, say, are you to blame for these?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Love is the spur to noble deeds,</span> <span class="i0">To him its worth who knows;</span> <span class="i0">And
beauty still to lofty love inspires.</span> <span class="i0">Love
never in his spirit glows,</span> <span class="i0">Whose heart
exults not in his breast,</span> <span class="i0">When angry winds
in fight descend,</span> <span class="i0">And heaven gathers all
its clouds,</span> <span class="i0">And mountain crests the
lightnings rend.</span> <span class="i0">O wives, O maidens, he</span>
<span class="i0">Who shrinks from danger, turns his back upon</span>
<span class="i0">His country in her need, and only seeks</span>
<span class="i0">His base desires and appetites to feed,</span>
<span class="i0">Excites your hatred and your scorn;</span> <span class="i0">If ye for men, and not for milk-sops, feel</span> <span class="i0">The glow of love o’er your soft bosoms steal.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The mothers of unwarlike sons</span> <span class="i0">O may ye ne’er be called!</span> <span class="i0">Your
children still inure</span> <span class="i0">For virtue’s sake all
trials to endure;</span> <span class="i0">To scorn the vices of
this wretched age;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page26" id="page26" title="26"></SPAN>To cherish loyal thoughts, and
high desires;</span> <span class="i0">And learn how much they owe
unto their sires.</span> <span class="i0">The sons of Sparta thus
became,</span> <span class="i0">Amid the memories of heroes old,</span>
<span class="i0">Deserving of the Grecian name;</span> <span class="i0">While the young spouse the trusty sword</span> <span class="i0">Upon the loved one’s side would gird,</span> <span class="i0">And, afterwards, with her black locks,</span> <span class="i0">The bloodless, naked corpse concealed,</span> <span class="i0">When homeward borne upon the faithful shield.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Virginia, thy soft cheek</span> <span class="i0">In
Beauty’s finest mould was framed;</span> <span class="i0">But thy
disdain Rome’s haughty lord inflamed.</span> <span class="i0">How
lovely wast thou, in thy youth’s sweet prime,</span> <span class="i0">When the rough dagger of thy sire</span> <span class="i0">Thy
snowy breast did smite,</span> <span class="i0">And thou, a willing
victim, didst descend</span> <span class="i0">Into realms of night!</span>
<span class="i0">“May old age wither and consume my frame,</span>
<span class="i0">O father,”—thus she said;</span> <span class="i0">“And may they now for me the tomb prepare,</span>
<span class="i0">E’er I the impious bed</span> <span class="i0">Of
that foul tyrant share:</span> <span class="i0">And if my blood new
life and liberty</span> <span class="i0">May give to Rome, by thy
hand let me die!”</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page27" id="page27" title="27"></SPAN>Ah, in those better days</span> <span class="i0">When
more propitious shone the sun than now,</span> <span class="i0">Thy
tomb, dear child, was not left comfortless,</span> <span class="i0">But
honored with the tears of all.</span> <span class="i0">Behold,
around thy lovely corpse, the sons</span> <span class="i0">Of
Romulus with holy wrath inflamed;</span> <span class="i0">Behold
the tyrants locks with dust besmeared;</span> <span class="i0">In
sluggish breasts once more</span> <span class="i0">The sacred name
of Liberty revered;</span> <span class="i0">Behold o’er all the
subjugated earth,</span> <span class="i0">The troops of Latium
march triumphant forth,</span> <span class="i0">From torrid desert
to the gloomy pole.</span> <span class="i0">And thus eternal Rome,</span>
<span class="i0">That had so long in sloth oblivious lain,</span>
<span class="i0">A daughter’s sacrifice revives again.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO A VICTOR IN THE GAME OF PALLONE. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">The face of glory and her pleasant voice,</span>
<span class="i0">O fortunate youth, now recognize,</span> <span class="i0">And how much nobler than effeminate sloth</span> <span class="i0">Are manhood’s tested energies.</span> <span class="i0">Take
heed, O generous champion, take heed,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page28" id="page28" title="28"></SPAN>If thou thy
name by worthy thought or deed,</span> <span class="i0">From Time’s
all-sweeping current couldst redeem;</span> <span class="i0">Take
heed, and lift thy heart to high desires!</span> <span class="i0">The
amphitheatre’s applause, the public voice,</span> <span class="i0">Now
summon thee to deeds illustrious;</span> <span class="i0">Exulting
in thy lusty youth.</span> <span class="i0">In thee, to-day, thy
country dear</span> <span class="i0">Beholds her heroes old again
appear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><i>His</i> hand was ne’er with blood barbaric stained,</span>
<span class="i0">At Marathon,</span> <span class="i0">Who on the
plain of Elis could behold</span> <span class="i0">The naked
athletes, and the wrestlers bold,</span> <span class="i0">And feel
no glow of emulous zeal within,</span> <span class="i0">The laurel
wreath of victory to win.</span> <span class="i0">And he, who in
Alphēus stream did wash</span> <span class="i0">The dusty
manes and foaming flanks</span> <span class="i0">Of his victorious
mares, <i>he</i> best could lead</span> <span class="i0">The
Grecian banners and the Grecian swords</span> <span class="i0">Against
the flying, panic-stricken ranks</span> <span class="i0">Of Medes,
who, dying, Asia’s shore</span> <span class="i0">And great
Euphrates will behold no more.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And will you call that vain, which seeks</span>
<span class="i0">The latent sparks of virtue to evolve,</span>
<span class="i0">Or animate anew to high resolve,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page29" id="page29" title="29"></SPAN>The
drooping fervor of our weary souls?</span> <span class="i0">What
but a game have mortal works e’er been,</span> <span class="i0">Since
Phœbus first his weary wheels did urge?</span> <span class="i0">And is not truth, no less than falsehood, vain?</span>
<span class="i0">And yet, with pleasing phantoms, fleeting shows,</span>
<span class="i0">Nature herself to our relief has come;</span>
<span class="i0">And custom, aiding nature, still must strive</span>
<span class="i0">These strong illusions to revive;</span> <span class="i0">Or else all thirst for noble deeds is gone,</span> <span class="i0">Is lost in sloth, and blind oblivion.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The time may come, perchance, when midst</span>
<span class="i0">The ruins of Italian palaces,</span> <span class="i0">Will herds of cattle graze,</span> <span class="i0">And
all the seven hills the plough will feel;</span> <span class="i0">Not
many years will have elapsed, perchance,</span> <span class="i0">E’er
all the towns of Italy</span> <span class="i0">Will the abode of
foxes be,</span> <span class="i0">And dark groves murmur ’mid the
lofty walls;</span> <span class="i0">Unless the Fates from our
perverted minds</span> <span class="i0">Remove this sad oblivion of
the Past;</span> <span class="i0">And heaven by grateful memories
appeased,</span> <span class="i0">Relenting, in the hour of our
despair,</span> <span class="i0">The abject nations, ripe for
slaughter, spare.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But thou, O worthy youth, wouldst grieve,</span>
<span class="i0">Thy wretched country to survive.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page30" id="page30" title="30"></SPAN>Thou
once through her mightst have acquired renown,</span> <span class="i0">When on her brow she wore the glittering crown,</span>
<span class="i0">Now lost! Our fault, and Fate’s! That time is o’er;</span>
<span class="i0">Ah, such a mother who could honor, more?</span>
<span class="i0">But for thyself, O lift thy thoughts on high!</span>
<span class="i0">What is our life? A thing to be despised:</span>
<span class="i0">Least wretched, when with perils so beset,</span>
<span class="i0">It must, perforce, its wretched self forget,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor heed the flight of slow-paced, worthless hours;</span>
<span class="i0">Or, when, to Lethe’s dismal shore impelled,</span>
<span class="i0">It hath once more the light of day beheld.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE YOUNGER BRUTUS. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">When in the Thracian dust uprooted lay,</span>
<span class="i0">In ruin vast, the strength of Italy,</span> <span class="i0">And Fate had doomed Hesperia’s valleys green,</span>
<span class="i0">And Tiber’s shores,</span> <span class="i0">The
trampling of barbarian steeds to feel,</span> <span class="i0">And
from the leafless groves,</span> <span class="i0">On which the
Northern Bear looks down,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page31" id="page31" title="31"></SPAN>Had called
the Gothic hordes,</span> <span class="i0">That Rome’s proud walls
might fall before their swords;</span> <span class="i0">Exhausted,
wet with brothers’ blood,</span> <span class="i0">Alone sat Brutus,
in the dismal night;</span> <span class="i0">Resolved on death, the
gods implacable</span> <span class="i0">Of heaven and hell he
chides,</span> <span class="i0">And smites the listless, drowsy air</span>
<span class="i0">With his fierce cries of anger and despair.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“O foolish virtue, empty mists,</span> <span class="i0">The realms of shadows, are thy schools,</span> <span class="i0">And at thy heels repentance follows fast.</span> <span class="i0">To you, ye marble gods</span> <span class="i0">(If ye in
Phlegethon reside, or dwell</span> <span class="i0">Above the
clouds), a mockery and scorn</span> <span class="i0">Is the unhappy
race,</span> <span class="i0">Of whom you temples ask,</span>
<span class="i0">And fraudulent the law that you impose.</span>
<span class="i0">Say, then, does earthly piety provoke</span> <span class="i0">The anger of the gods?</span> <span class="i0">O Jove,
dost thou protect the impious?</span> <span class="i0">And when the
storm-cloud rushes through the air,</span> <span class="i0">And
thou thy thunderbolts dost aim,</span> <span class="i0">Against the
<i>just</i> dost thou impel the sacred flame?</span> <span class="i0">Unconquered Fate and stern necessity</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page32" id="page32" title="32"></SPAN>Oppress
the feeble slaves of Death:</span> <span class="i0">Unable to avert
their injuries,</span> <span class="i0">The common herd endure them
patiently.</span> <span class="i0">But is the ill less hard to
bear,</span> <span class="i0">Because it has no remedy?</span>
<span class="i0">Does he who knows no hope no sorrow feel?</span>
<span class="i0">The hero wages war with thee,</span> <span class="i0">Eternal deadly war, ungracious Fate,</span> <span class="i0">And knows not how to yield; and thy right hand,</span>
<span class="i0">Imperious, proudly shaking off,</span> <span class="i0">E’en when it weighs upon him most,</span> <span class="i0">Though conquered, is triumphant still,</span> <span class="i0">When his sharp sword inflicts the fatal blow;</span>
<span class="i0">And seeks with haughty smile the shades below.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“Who storms the gates of Tartarus,</span>
<span class="i0">Offends the gods.</span> <span class="i0">Such
valor does not suit, forsooth,</span> <span class="i0">Their soft,
eternal bosoms; no?</span> <span class="i0">Or are our toils and
miseries,</span> <span class="i0">And all the anguish of our
hearts,</span> <span class="i0">A pleasant sport, their leisure to
beguile?</span> <span class="i0">Yet no such life of crime and
wretchedness,</span> <span class="i0">But pure and free as her own
woods and fields,</span> <span class="i0">Nature to us prescribed;
a queen</span> <span class="i0">And goddess once. Since impious
custom, now,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page33" id="page33" title="33"></SPAN>Her happy realm hath scattered
to the winds,</span> <span class="i0">And other laws on this poor
life imposed,</span> <span class="i0">Will Nature of fool-hardiness
accuse</span> <span class="i0">The manly souls, who such a life
refuse?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“Of crime, and their own sufferings ignorant,</span>
<span class="i0">Serene old age the beasts conducts</span> <span class="i0">Unto the death they ne’er foresee.</span> <span class="i0">But if, by misery impelled, they sought</span> <span class="i0">To dash their heads against the rugged tree,</span>
<span class="i0">Or, plunging headlong from the lofty rock,</span>
<span class="i0">Their limbs to scatter to the winds.</span> <span class="i0">No law mysterious, misconception dark,</span> <span class="i0">Would the sad wish refuse to grant.</span> <span class="i0">Of all that breathe the breath of life,</span> <span class="i0">You, only, children of Prometheus, feel</span> <span class="i0">That life a burden hard to bear;</span> <span class="i0">Yet,
would you seek the silent shores of death,</span> <span class="i0">If
sluggish fate the boon delay,</span> <span class="i0">To you,
alone, stern Jove forbids the way.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“And thou, white moon, art rising from the sea,</span>
<span class="i0">That with our blood is stained;</span> <span class="i0">The troubled night dost thou survey,</span> <span class="i0">And field, so fatal unto Italy.</span> <span class="i0">On
brothers’ breasts the conqueror treads;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page34" id="page34" title="34"></SPAN>The hills
with fear are thrilled;</span> <span class="i0">From her proud
heights Rome totters to her fall.</span> <span class="i0">And
smilest thou upon the dismal scene?</span> <span class="i0">Lavinia’s
children from their birth,</span> <span class="i0">And all their
prosperous years,</span> <span class="i0">And well-earned laurels,
hast thou seen;</span> <span class="i0">And thou <i>wilt</i> smile,
with ray unchanged,</span> <span class="i0">Upon the Alps, when,
bowed with grief and shame,</span> <span class="i0">The haughty
city, desolate and lone,</span> <span class="i0">Beneath the tread
of Gothic hordes shall groan.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“Behold, amid the naked rocks,</span> <span class="i0">Or on the verdant bough, the beast and bird,</span>
<span class="i0">Whose breasts are ne’er by thought or memory stirred,</span>
<span class="i0">Of the vast ruin take no heed,</span> <span class="i0">Or of the altered fortunes of the world;</span> <span class="i0">And when the humble herdsman’s cot</span> <span class="i0">Is tinted with the earliest rays of dawn,</span> <span class="i0">The one will wake the valleys with his song,</span>
<span class="i0">The other, o’er the cliffs, the frightened throng</span>
<span class="i0">Of smaller beasts before him drive.</span> <span class="i0">O foolish race! Most wretched we, of all!</span> <span class="i0">Nor are these blood-stained fields,</span> <span class="i0">These caverns, that our groans have heard,</span> <span class="i0">Regardful of our misery;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page35" id="page35" title="35"></SPAN>Nor shines
one star less brightly in the sky.</span> <span class="i0">Not the
deaf kings of heaven or hell,</span> <span class="i0">Or the
unworthy earth,</span> <span class="i0">Or night, do I in death
invoke,</span> <span class="i0">Or thee, last gleam the dying hour
that cheers,</span> <span class="i0">The voice of coming ages. I no
tomb</span> <span class="i0">Desire, to be with sobs disturbed, or
with</span> <span class="i0">The words and gifts of wretched fools
adorned.</span> <span class="i0">The times grow worse and worse;</span>
<span class="i0">And who, unto a vile posterity,</span> <span class="i0">The honor of great souls would trust,</span> <span class="i0">Or fit atonement for their wrongs?</span> <span class="i0">Then let the birds of prey around me wheel:</span> <span class="i0">And let my wretched corpse</span> <span class="i0">The
lightning blast, the wild beast tear;</span> <span class="i0">And
let my name and memory melt in air!”</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO THE SPRING.<small>OR OF THE FABLES OF THE ANCIENTS.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Now that the sun the faded charms</span> <span class="i0">Of heaven again restores,</span> <span class="i0">And
gentle zephyr the sick air revives,</span> <span class="i0">And the
dark shadows of the clouds</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page36" id="page36" title="36"></SPAN>Are put to
flight,</span> <span class="i0">And birds their naked breasts
confide</span> <span class="i0">Unto the wind, and the soft light,</span>
<span class="i0">With new desire of love, and with new hope,</span>
<span class="i0">The conscious beasts, in the deep woods,</span>
<span class="i0">Amid the melting frosts, inspires;</span> <span class="i0">May not to you, poor human souls,</span> <span class="i0">Weary,
and overborne with grief,</span> <span class="i0">The happy age
return, which misery,</span> <span class="i0">And truth’s dark
torch, before its time, consumed?</span> <span class="i0">Have not
the golden rays</span> <span class="i0">Of Phœbus vanished
from your gaze</span> <span class="i0">Forever? Say, O gentle
Spring,</span> <span class="i0">Canst thou this icy heart inspire,
and melt,</span> <span class="i0">That in the bloom of youth, the
frost of age hath felt?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O holy Nature, art thou still alive?</span> <span class="i0">Alive? And does the unaccustomed ear</span> <span class="i0">Of thy maternal voice the accents hear?</span> <span class="i0">Of white nymphs once, the streams were the abode.</span>
<span class="i0">And in the clear founts mirrored were their forms.</span>
<span class="i0">Mysterious dances of immortal feet</span> <span class="i0">The mountain tops and lofty forests shook,—</span>
<span class="i0">To-day the lonely mansions of the winds;—</span>
<span class="i0">And when the shepherd-boy the noontide shade</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page37" id="page37" title="37"></SPAN>Would seek, or bring his thirsty lambs</span> <span class="i0">Unto the flowery margin of the stream,</span> <span class="i0">Along the banks the clear song would he hear,</span>
<span class="i0">And pipe of rustic Fauns;</span> <span class="i0">Would
see the waters move,</span> <span class="i0">And stand amazed,
when, hidden from the view,</span> <span class="i0">The
quiver-bearing goddess would descend</span> <span class="i0">Into
the genial waves,</span> <span class="i0">And from her snow-white
arms efface</span> <span class="i0">The dust and blood of the
exciting chase.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The flowers, the herbs <i>once</i> lived,</span>
<span class="i0">The groves with life were filled:</span> <span class="i0">Soft airs, and clouds, and every shining light</span>
<span class="i0">Were with the human race in sympathy,</span> <span class="i0">When thee, fair star of Venus, o’er</span> <span class="i0">The hills and dales,</span> <span class="i0">The
traveller, in the lonely night,</span> <span class="i0">Pursuing
with his earnest gaze,</span> <span class="i0">The sweet companion
of his path,</span> <span class="i0">The loving friend of mortals
deemed:</span> <span class="i0">When he, who, fleeing from the
impious strife</span> <span class="i0">Of cities filled with mutiny
and shame,</span> <span class="i0">In depths of woods remote,</span>
<span class="i0">The rough trees clasping to his breast,</span>
<span class="i0">The vital flame seemed in their veins to feel,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page38" id="page38" title="38"></SPAN>The breathing leaves of Daphne, or of Phyllis sad;</span>
<span class="i0">And seemed the sisters’ tears to see, still shed</span>
<span class="i0">For him who, smitten by the lightning’s blast,</span>
<span class="i0">Into the swift Eridanus was cast.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nor were ye deaf, ye rigid rocks,</span> <span class="i0">To human sorrow’s plaintive tones,</span> <span class="i0">While in your dark recesses Echo dwelt,</span> <span class="i0">No idle plaything of the winds,</span> <span class="i0">But
spirit sad of hapless nymph,</span> <span class="i0">Whom
unrequited love, and cruel fate,</span> <span class="i0">Of her
soft limbs deprived. She o’er the grots,</span> <span class="i0">The
naked rocks, and mansions desolate,</span> <span class="i0">Unto
the depths of all-embracing air,</span> <span class="i0">Our
sorrows, not to her unknown,</span> <span class="i0">Our broken,
loud laments conveyed.</span> <span class="i0">And <i>thou</i>, if
fame belie thee not,</span> <span class="i0">Didst sound the depths
of human woe,</span> <span class="i0">Sweet bird, that comest to
the leafy grove,</span> <span class="i0">The new-born Spring to
greet,</span> <span class="i0">And when the fields are hushed in
sleep,</span> <span class="i0">To chant into the dark and silent
air,</span> <span class="i0">The ancient wrongs, and cruel
treachery,</span> <span class="i0">That stirred the pity of the
gods, to see.</span> <span class="i0">But, no, thy race is not akin
to ours;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page39" id="page39" title="39"></SPAN>No sorrow framed thy melodies;</span>
<span class="i0">Thy voice of crime unconscious, pleases less,</span>
<span class="i0">Along the dusky valley heard.</span> <span class="i0">Ah, since the mansions of Olympus all</span> <span class="i0">Are desolate, and without guide, the bolt,</span> <span class="i0">That, wandering o’er the cloud-capped mountain-tops,</span>
<span class="i0">In horror cold dissolves alike</span> <span class="i0">The guilty and the innocent;</span> <span class="i0">Since
this, our earthly home,</span> <span class="i0">A stranger to her
children has become,</span> <span class="i0">And brings them up, to
misery;</span> <span class="i0">Lend thou an ear, dear Nature, to
the woes</span> <span class="i0">And wretched fate of mortals, and
revive</span> <span class="i0">The ancient spark within my breast;</span>
<span class="i0">If thou, indeed, dost live, if aught there is,</span>
<span class="i0">In heaven, or on the sun-lit earth,</span> <span class="i0">Or in the bosom of the sea,</span> <span class="i0">That
pities? No; but <i>sees</i> our misery.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page40" id="page40" title="40"></SPAN>HYMN TO THE PATRIARCHS.<small>OR OF THE BEGINNINGS OF THE HUMAN RACE.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Illustrious fathers of the human race,</span>
<span class="i0">Of you, the song of your afflicted sons</span>
<span class="i0">Will chant the praise; of you, more dear, by far,</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the Great Disposer of the stars,</span> <span class="i0">Who were not born to wretchedness, like ours.</span>
<span class="i0">Immedicable woes, a life of tears,</span> <span class="i0">The silent tomb, eternal night, to find</span> <span class="i0">More sweet, by far, than the ethereal light,</span>
<span class="i0">These things were not by heaven’s gracious law</span>
<span class="i0">Imposed on you. If ancient legends speak</span>
<span class="i0">Of sins of yours, that brought calamity</span>
<span class="i0">Upon the human race, and fell disease,</span>
<span class="i0">Alas, the sins more terrible, by far,</span> <span class="i0">Committed by your children, and their souls</span> <span class="i0">More restless, and with mad ambition fixed,</span> <span class="i0">Against them roused the wrath of angry gods,</span>
<span class="i0">The hand of all-sustaining Nature armed,</span>
<span class="i0">By them so long neglected and despised.</span>
<span class="i0">Then life became a burden and a curse,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page41" id="page41" title="41"></SPAN>And every new-born babe a thing abhorred,</span>
<span class="i0">And hell and chaos reigned upon the earth.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou first the day, and thou the shining lights</span>
<span class="i0">Of the revolving stars didst see, the fields,</span>
<span class="i0">And their new flocks and herds, O leader old</span>
<span class="i0">And father of the human family!</span> <span class="i0">The wandering air that o’er the meadows played,</span>
<span class="i0">When smote the rocks, and the deserted vales,</span>
<span class="i0">The torrent, rustling headlong from the Alps,</span>
<span class="i0">With sound, till then, unheard; and o’er the sites</span>
<span class="i0">Of future nations, noisy cities, yet unknown</span>
<span class="i0">To fame, a peace profound, mysterious reigned;</span>
<span class="i0">And o’er the unploughed hills, in silence, rose</span>
<span class="i0">The ray of Phœbus, and the golden moon.</span>
<span class="i0">O world, how happy in thy loneliness,</span> <span class="i0">Of crimes and of disasters ignorant!</span> <span class="i0">Oh, how much wretchedness Fate had in store</span> <span class="i0">For thy poor race, unhappy father, what</span> <span class="i0">A series vast of terrible events!</span> <span class="i0">Behold,
the fields, scarce tilled, with blood are stained,</span> <span class="i0">A brother’s blood, in sudden frenzy shed;</span> <span class="i0">And now, alas, first hears the gentle air</span> <span class="i0">The whirring of the fearful wings of Death.</span> <span class="i0">The trembling fratricide, a fugitive,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page42" id="page42" title="42"></SPAN>The
lonely shades avoids; in every blast</span> <span class="i0">That
sweeps the groves, a voice of wrath he hears.</span> <span class="i0"><i>He</i> the first city builds, abode and realm</span>
<span class="i0">Of wasting cares; repentance desperate,</span>
<span class="i0">Heart-sick, and groaning, thus unites and binds</span>
<span class="i0">Together blind and sinful souls, and first</span>
<span class="i0">A refuge offers unto mutual guilt.</span> <span class="i0">The wicked hand now scorns the crooked plough;</span>
<span class="i0">The sweat of honest labor is despised;</span>
<span class="i0">Now sloth possession of the threshold takes;</span>
<span class="i0">The sluggish frames their native vigor lose;</span>
<span class="i0">The minds in hopeless indolence are sunk;</span>
<span class="i0">And slavery, the crowning curse of all,</span>
<span class="i0">Degrades and crushes poor humanity.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And thou from heaven’s wrath, and ocean’s waves,</span>
<span class="i0">That bellowed round the cloud-capped mountain-tops,</span>
<span class="i0">The sinful brood didst save; thou, unto whom,</span>
<span class="i0">From the dark air and wave-encumbered hills,</span>
<span class="i0">The white dove brought the sign of hope renewed,</span>
<span class="i0">And sinking in the west, the shipwrecked sun,</span>
<span class="i0">His bright rays darting through the angry clouds,</span>
<span class="i0">The dark sky painted with the lovely bow.</span>
<span class="i0">The race restored, to earth returned, begins anew</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page43" id="page43" title="43"></SPAN>The same career of wickedness and lust,</span> <span class="i0">With their attendant ills. Audacious man</span> <span class="i0">Defies the threats of the avenging sea,</span> <span class="i0">And to new shores and to new stars repeats</span> <span class="i0">The same sad tale of infamy and woe.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And now of thee I think, the just and brave,</span>
<span class="i0">The Father of the faithful, and the sons</span>
<span class="i0">Thy honored name that bore. Of thee I speak,</span>
<span class="i0">Whom, sitting, thoughtful, in the noontide shade,</span>
<span class="i0">Before thy humble cottage, near the banks,</span>
<span class="i0">That gave thy flocks both rest and nourishment,</span>
<span class="i0">The minds ethereal of celestial guests</span>
<span class="i0">With blessings greeted; and of thee, O son</span>
<span class="i0">Of wise Rebecca, how at eventide,</span> <span class="i0">In Aran’s valley sweet, and by the well,</span> <span class="i0">Where happy swains in friendly converse met,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou didst with Laban’s daughter fall in love;</span>
<span class="i0">Love, that to exile long, and suffering,</span>
<span class="i0">And to the odious yoke of servitude,</span> <span class="i0">Thy patient soul a willing martyr led.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Oh, surely once,—for not with idle tales</span>
<span class="i0">And shadows, the Aonian song, and voice</span>
<span class="i0">Of Fame, the eager list’ners feed,—once was</span>
<span class="i0">This wretched earth more friendly to our race,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page44" id="page44" title="44"></SPAN>Was more beloved and dear, and golden flew</span>
<span class="i0">The days, that now so laden are with care.</span>
<span class="i0">Not that the milk, in waves of purest white,</span>
<span class="i0">Gushed from the rocks, and flowed along the vales;</span>
<span class="i0">Or that the tigers mingled with the sheep,</span>
<span class="i0">To the same fold were led; or shepherd-boys</span>
<span class="i0">With playful wolves would frolic at the spring;</span>
<span class="i0">But of its own lot ignorant, and all</span> <span class="i0">The sufferings that were in store, devoid</span> <span class="i0">Of care it lived: a soft, illusive veil</span> <span class="i0">Of error hid the stern realities,</span> <span class="i0">The
cruel laws of heaven and of fate.</span> <span class="i0">Life
glided on, with cheerful hope content;</span> <span class="i0">And
tranquil, sought the haven of its rest.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">So lives, in California’s forests vast,</span>
<span class="i0">A happy race, whose life-blood is not drained</span>
<span class="i0">By pallid care, whose limbs are not by fierce</span>
<span class="i0">Disease consumed: the woods their food, their homes</span>
<span class="i0">The hollow rock, the streamlet of the vale</span>
<span class="i0">Its waters furnishes, and, unforeseen,</span>
<span class="i0">Dark death upon them steals. Ah, how unarmed,</span>
<span class="i0">Wise Nature’s happy votaries, are ye,</span> <span class="i0">Against our impious audacity!</span> <span class="i0">Our
fierce, indomitable love of gain</span> <span class="i0">Your
shores, your caves, your quiet woods invades;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page45" id="page45" title="45"></SPAN>Your
minds corrupts, your bodies enervates;</span> <span class="i0">And
happiness, a naked fugitive,</span> <span class="i0">Before it
drives, to earth’s remotest bounds.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE LAST SONG OF SAPPHO. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Thou tranquil night, and thou, O gentle ray</span>
<span class="i0">Of the declining moon; and thou, that o’er</span>
<span class="i0">The rock appearest, ’mid the silent grove,</span>
<span class="i0">The messenger of day; how dear ye were,</span>
<span class="i0">And how delightful to these eyes, while yet</span>
<span class="i0">Unknown the furies, and grim Fate! But now,</span>
<span class="i0">No gentle sight can soothe this wounded soul.</span>
<span class="i0">Then, only, can forgotten joy revive,</span> <span class="i0">When through the air, and o’er the trembling fields</span>
<span class="i0">The raging south wind whirls its clouds of dust;</span>
<span class="i0">And when the car, the pondrous car of Jove,</span>
<span class="i0">Omnipotent, high-thundering o’er our heads,</span>
<span class="i0">A pathway cleaves athwart the dusky sky.</span>
<span class="i0">Then would I love with storm-charged clouds to fly</span>
<span class="i0">Along the cliffs, along the valleys deep,</span>
<span class="i0">The headlong flight of frightened flocks to watch,</span>
<span class="i0">Or hear, upon some swollen river’s shore</span>
<span class="i0">The angry billows’ loud, triumphant roar.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page46" id="page46" title="46"></SPAN>How beautiful thou art, O heaven divine,</span>
<span class="i0">And thou, O dewy earth! Alas no part</span> <span class="i0">Of all this beauty infinite, the gods</span> <span class="i0">And cruel fate to wretched Sappho gave!</span> <span class="i0">To thy proud realms, O Nature, I, a poor,</span> <span class="i0">Unwelcome guest, rejected lover, come;</span> <span class="i0">To all thy varied forms of loveliness,</span> <span class="i0">My heart and eyes, a suppliant, lift in vain.</span>
<span class="i0">The sun-lit shore hath smiles no more for me,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor radiant morning light at heaven’s gate;</span>
<span class="i0">The birds no longer greet me with their songs,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor whispering trees with gracious messages;</span>
<span class="i0">And where, beneath the bending willows’ shade,</span>
<span class="i0">The limpid stream its bosom pure displays,</span>
<span class="i0">As I, with trembling and uncertain foot,</span>
<span class="i0">Oppressed with grief, upon its margin pause,</span>
<span class="i0">The dimpled waves recoil, as in disdain,</span>
<span class="i0">And urge their flight along the flowery plain.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">What fearful crime, what hideous excess</span>
<span class="i0">Have so defiled me, e’en before my birth,</span>
<span class="i0">That heaven and fortune frown upon me thus?</span>
<span class="i0">Wherein have I offended, as a child,</span> <span class="i0">When we of evil deeds are ignorant,</span> <span class="i0">That thus disfigured, of the bloom of youth</span> <span class="i0">Bereft, my little thread of life has from</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page47" id="page47" title="47"></SPAN>The
spindle of the unrelenting Fate</span> <span class="i0">Been drawn?
Alas, incautious are thy words!</span> <span class="i0">Mysterious
counsels all events control,</span> <span class="i0">And all,
except our grief, is mystery.</span> <span class="i0">Deserted
children, we were born to weep;</span> <span class="i0">But why, is
known to those above, alone.</span> <span class="i0">O vain the
cares, the hopes of earlier years!</span> <span class="i0">To idle
shows Jove gives eternal sway</span> <span class="i0">O’er human
hearts. Unless in shining robes arrayed,</span> <span class="i0">All
manly deeds in arms, or art, or song,</span> <span class="i0">Appeal
in vain unto the vulgar throng.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I die! This wretched veil to earth I cast,</span>
<span class="i0">And for my naked soul a refuge seek</span> <span class="i0">Below, and for the cruel faults atone</span> <span class="i0">Of gods, the blind dispensers of events.</span> <span class="i0">And thou, to whom I have been bound so long,</span>
<span class="i0">By hopeless love, and lasting faith, and by</span>
<span class="i0">The frenzy vain of unappeased desire,</span> <span class="i0">Live, live, and if thou canst, be happy here!</span>
<span class="i0">My cup o’erflows with bitterness, and Jove</span>
<span class="i0">Has from his vase no drop of sweetness shed,</span>
<span class="i0">For all my childhood’s hopes and dreams have fled.</span>
<span class="i0">The happiest day the soonest fades away;</span>
<span class="i0">And then succeed disease, old age, the shade</span>
<span class="i0">Of icy death. Behold, alas! Of all</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page48" id="page48" title="48"></SPAN>My
longed-for laurels, my illusions dear,</span> <span class="i0">The
end,—the gulf of hell! My spirit proud</span> <span class="i0">Must
to the realm of Proserpine descend,</span> <span class="i0">The
Stygian shore, the night that knows no end.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> FIRST LOVE. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Ah, well can I the day recall, when first</span>
<span class="i0">The conflict fierce of love I felt, and said:</span>
<span class="i0">If <i>this</i> be love, how hard it is to bear!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">With eyes still fixed intent upon the ground,</span>
<span class="i0">I saw but <i>her</i>, whose artless innocence,</span>
<span class="i0">Triumphant took possession of this heart.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Ah, Love, how badly hast thou governed me!</span>
<span class="i0">Why should affection so sincere and pure,</span>
<span class="i0">Bring with it such desire, such suffering?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Why not serene, and full, and free from guile</span>
<span class="i0">But sorrow-laden, and lamenting sore,</span> <span class="i0">Should joy so great into my heart descend?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O tell me, tender heart, that sufferest so,</span>
<span class="i0">Why with that thought such anguish should be blent,</span>
<span class="i0">Compared with which, all other thoughts were naught?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page49" id="page49" title="49"></SPAN>That thought, that ever present in the day,</span>
<span class="i0">That in the night more vivid still appeared,</span>
<span class="i0">When all things round in sweet sleep seemed to rest:</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou, restless, both with joy and misery</span>
<span class="i0">Didst with thy constant throbbings weary so</span>
<span class="i0">My breast, as panting in my bed I lay.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And when worn out with grief and weariness,</span>
<span class="i0">In sleep my eyes I closed, ah, no relief</span>
<span class="i0">It gave, so broken and so feverish!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How brightly from the depths of darkness, then,</span>
<span class="i0">The lovely image rose, and my closed eyes,</span>
<span class="i0">Beneath their lids, their gaze upon it fed!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O what delicious impulses, diffused,</span> <span class="i0">My weary frame with sweet emotion filled!</span> <span class="i0">What myriad thoughts, unstable and confused,</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Were floating in my mind! As through the leaves</span>
<span class="i0">Of some old grove, the west wind, wandering,</span>
<span class="i0">A long, mysterious murmur leaves behind.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And as I, silent, to their influence yield,</span>
<span class="i0">What saidst thou, heart, when she departed, who</span>
<span class="i0">Had caused thee all thy throbs, and suffering?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page50" id="page50" title="50"></SPAN>No sooner had I felt within, the heat</span> <span class="i0">Of love’s first flame, than with it flew away</span>
<span class="i0">The gentle breeze, that fanned it into life.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Sleepless I lay, until the dawn of day;</span>
<span class="i0">The steeds, that were to leave me desolate,</span>
<span class="i0">Their hoofs were beating at my father’s gate.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And I, in mute suspense, poor timid fool,</span>
<span class="i0">With eye that vainly would the darkness pierce,</span>
<span class="i0">And eager ear intent, lay, listening,</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">That voice to hear, if, for the last time, I</span>
<span class="i0">Might catch the accents from those lovely lips;</span>
<span class="i0">The voice alone; all else forever lost!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How many vulgar tones my doubtful ear</span> <span class="i0">Would smite, with deep disgust inspiring me,</span>
<span class="i0">With doubt tormented, holding hard my breath!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And when, at last, that voice into my heart</span>
<span class="i0">Descended, passing sweet, and when the sound</span>
<span class="i0">Of horses and of wheels had died away;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">In utter desolation, then, my head</span> <span class="i0">I in my pillow buried, closed my eyes,</span> <span class="i0">And pressed my hand against my heart, and sighed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page51" id="page51" title="51"></SPAN>Then, listlessly, my trembling knees across</span>
<span class="i0">The silent chamber dragging, I exclaimed,</span>
<span class="i0">“Nothing on earth can interest me more!”</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The bitter recollection cherishing</span> <span class="i0">Within my breast, to every voice my heart,</span> <span class="i0">To every face, insensible remained.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Long I remained in hopeless sorrow drowned;</span>
<span class="i0">As when the heavens far and wide their showers</span>
<span class="i0">Incessant pour upon the fields around.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nor had I, Love, thy cruel power known,</span>
<span class="i0">A boy of eighteen summers flown, until</span>
<span class="i0">That day, when I thy bitter lesson learned;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">When I each pleasure held in scorn, nor cared</span>
<span class="i0">The shining stars to see, or meadows green,</span>
<span class="i0">Or felt the charm of holy morning light;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The love of glory, too, no longer found</span>
<span class="i0">An echo in my irresponsive breast,</span> <span class="i0">That, once, the love of beauty with it shared.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">My favorite studies I neglected quite;</span>
<span class="i0">And those things vain appeared, compared with which,</span>
<span class="i0">I used to think all other pleasures vain.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page52" id="page52" title="52"></SPAN>Ah! how could I have changed so utterly?</span>
<span class="i0">How could one passion all the rest destroy?</span>
<span class="i0">Indeed, what helpless mortals are we all!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">My heart my only comfort was, and with</span>
<span class="i0">That heart, in conference perpetual,</span> <span class="i0">A constant watch upon my grief to keep.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">My eye still sought the ground, or in itself</span>
<span class="i0">Absorbed, shrank from encountering the glance</span>
<span class="i0">Of lovely or unlovely countenance;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The stainless image fearing to disturb,</span>
<span class="i0">So faithfully reflected in my breast;</span> <span class="i0">As winds disturb the mirror of the lake.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And that regret, that I could not enjoy</span>
<span class="i0">Such happiness, which weighs upon the mind,</span>
<span class="i0">And turns to poison pleasure that has passed,</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Did still its thorn within my bosom lodge,</span>
<span class="i0">As I the past recalled; but shame, indeed,</span>
<span class="i0">Left not its cruel sting within this heart.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">To heaven, to you, ye gentle souls, I swear,</span>
<span class="i0">No base desire intruded on my thought;</span>
<span class="i0">But with a pure and sacred flame I burned.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page53" id="page53" title="53"></SPAN>That flame still lives, and that affection pure;</span>
<span class="i0">Still in my thought that lovely image breathes,</span>
<span class="i0">From which, save heavenly, I no other joy,</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Have ever known; my only comfort, now!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE LONELY SPARROW. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Thou from the top of yonder antique tower,</span>
<span class="i0">O lonely sparrow, wandering, hast gone,</span>
<span class="i0">Thy song repeating till the day is done,</span>
<span class="i0">And through this valley strays the harmony.</span>
<span class="i0">How Spring rejoices in the fields around,</span>
<span class="i0">And fills the air with light,</span> <span class="i0">So that the heart is melted at the sight!</span> <span class="i0">Hark to the bleating flocks, the lowing herds!</span>
<span class="i0">In sweet content, the other birds</span> <span class="i0">Through the free sky in emulous circles wheel,</span>
<span class="i0">In pure enjoyment of their happy time:</span>
<span class="i0">Thou, pensive, gazest on the scene apart,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor wilt thou join them in the merry round;</span>
<span class="i0">Shy playmate, thou for mirth hast little heart;</span>
<span class="i0">And with thy plaintive music, dost consume</span>
<span class="i0">Both of the year, and of thy life, the bloom.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page54" id="page54" title="54"></SPAN>Alas, how much my ways</span> <span class="i0">Resemble
thine! The laughter and the sport,</span> <span class="i0">That
fill with glee our youthful days,</span> <span class="i0">And thee,
O love, who art youth’s brother still,</span> <span class="i0">Too
oft the bitter sigh of later years,</span> <span class="i0">I care
not for; I know not why,</span> <span class="i0">But from them ever
distant fly:</span> <span class="i0">Here in my native place,</span>
<span class="i0">As if of alien race,</span> <span class="i0">My
spring of life I like a hermit pass.</span> <span class="i0">This
day, that to the evening now gives way,</span> <span class="i0">Is
in our town an ancient holiday.</span> <span class="i0">Hark,
through the air, that voice of festal bell,</span> <span class="i0">While
rustic guns in frequent thunders sound,</span> <span class="i0">Reverberated
from the hills around.</span> <span class="i0">In festal robes
arrayed,</span> <span class="i0">The neighboring youth,</span>
<span class="i0">Their houses leaving, o’er the roads are spread;</span>
<span class="i0">They pleasant looks exchange, and in their hearts</span>
<span class="i0">Rejoice. I, lonely, in this distant spot,</span>
<span class="i0">Along the country wandering,</span> <span class="i0">Postpone all pleasure and delight</span> <span class="i0">To
some more genial time: meanwhile,</span> <span class="i0">As
through the sunny air around I gaze,</span> <span class="i0">My
brow is smitten by his rays,</span> <span class="i0">As after such
a day serene,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page55" id="page55" title="55"></SPAN>Dropping behind yon distant
hills,</span> <span class="i0">He vanishes, and seems to say,</span>
<span class="i0">That thus all happy youth must pass away.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou, lonely little bird, when thou</span> <span class="i0">Hast reached the evening of the days</span> <span class="i0">Thy stars assign to thee,</span> <span class="i0">Wilt
surely not regret thy ways;</span> <span class="i0">For all thy
wishes are</span> <span class="i0">Obedient to Nature’s law. But
ah!</span> <span class="i0">If I, in spite of all my prayers,</span>
<span class="i0">Am doomed the hateful threshold of old age</span>
<span class="i0">To cross, when these dull eyes will give</span>
<span class="i0">No response to another’s heart,</span> <span class="i0">The world to them a void will be,</span> <span class="i0">Each
day become more full of misery,</span> <span class="i0">How then,
will this, my wish appear</span> <span class="i0">In those dark
hours, that dungeon drear?</span> <span class="i0">My blighted
youth, my sore distress,</span> <span class="i0">Alas, will <i>then</i>
seem happiness!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page56" id="page56" title="56"></SPAN>THE INFINITE. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">This lonely hill to me was ever dear,</span> <span class="i0">This hedge, which shuts from view so large a part</span>
<span class="i0">Of the remote horizon. As I sit</span> <span class="i0">And gaze, absorbed, I in my thought conceive</span>
<span class="i0">The boundless spaces that beyond it range,</span>
<span class="i0">The silence supernatural, and rest</span> <span class="i0">Profound; and for a moment I am calm.</span> <span class="i0">And as I listen to the wind, that through</span> <span class="i0">These trees is murmuring, its plaintive voice</span>
<span class="i0">I with that infinite compare;</span> <span class="i0">And things eternal I recall, and all</span> <span class="i0">The seasons dead, and this, that round me lives,</span>
<span class="i0">And utters its complaint. Thus wandering</span>
<span class="i0">My thought in this immensity is drowned;</span>
<span class="i0">And sweet to me is shipwreck on this sea.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page57" id="page57" title="57"></SPAN>THE EVENING OF THE HOLIDAY. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">The night is mild and clear, and without wind,</span>
<span class="i0">And o’er the roofs, and o’er the gardens round</span>
<span class="i0">The moon shines soft, and from afar reveals</span>
<span class="i0">Each mountain-peak serene. O lady, mine,</span>
<span class="i0">Hushed now is every path, and few and dim</span>
<span class="i0">The lamps that glimmer through the balconies.</span>
<span class="i0">Thou sleepest! in thy quiet rooms, how light</span>
<span class="i0">And easy is thy sleep! No care thy heart</span>
<span class="i0">Consumes; and little dost thou know or think,</span>
<span class="i0">How deep a wound thou in my heart hast made.</span>
<span class="i0">Thou sleepest; I to yonder heaven turn,</span>
<span class="i0">That seems to greet me with a loving smile,</span>
<span class="i0">And to that Nature old, omnipotent,</span> <span class="i0">That doomed me still to suffer. “I to thee</span>
<span class="i0">All hope deny,” she said, “e’en hope; nor
may</span> <span class="i0">Those eyes of thine e’er shine, save
through their tears.”</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">This was a holiday; its pleasures o’er,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou seek’st repose; and happy in thy dreams</span>
<span class="i0">Recallest those whom thou hast pleased to-day,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page58" id="page58" title="58"></SPAN>And those who have pleased thee: not I, indeed,—</span>
<span class="i0">I hoped it not,—unto thy thoughts occur.</span>
<span class="i0">Meanwhile, I ask, how much of life remains</span>
<span class="i0">To me; and on the earth I cast myself,</span>
<span class="i0">And cry, and groan. How wretched are my days,</span>
<span class="i0">And still so young! Hark, on the road I hear,</span>
<span class="i0">Not far away, the solitary song</span> <span class="i0">Of workman, who returns at this late hour,</span> <span class="i0">In merry mood, unto his humble home;</span> <span class="i0">And in my heart a cruel pang I feel,</span> <span class="i0">At thought, how all things earthly pass away,</span>
<span class="i0">And leave no trace behind. This festal day</span>
<span class="i0">Hath fled; a working-day now follows it,</span>
<span class="i0">And all, alike, are swept away by Time.</span>
<span class="i0">Where is the glory of the antique nations now?</span>
<span class="i0">Where now the fame of our great ancestors?</span>
<span class="i0">The empire vast of Rome, the clash of arms?</span>
<span class="i0">Now all is peace and silence, all the world</span>
<span class="i0">At rest; their very names are heard no more.</span>
<span class="i0">E’en from my earliest years, when we</span> <span class="i0">Expect so eagerly a holiday,</span> <span class="i0">The
moment it was past, I sought my couch,</span> <span class="i0">Wakeful
and sad; and at the midnight hour,</span> <span class="i0">When I
the song heard of some passer-by,</span> <span class="i0">That
slowly in the distance died away,</span> <span class="i0">The same
deep anguish felt I in my heart.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page59" id="page59" title="59"></SPAN>TO THE MOON. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">O lovely moon, how well do I recall</span> <span class="i0">The time,—’tis just a year—when up this hill</span>
<span class="i0">I came, in my distress, to gaze at thee:</span>
<span class="i0">And thou suspended wast o’er yonder grove,</span>
<span class="i0">As now thou art, which thou with light dost fill.</span>
<span class="i0">But stained with mist, and tremulous, appeared</span>
<span class="i0">Thy countenance to me, because my eyes</span>
<span class="i0">Were filled with tears, that could not be suppressed;</span>
<span class="i0">For, oh, my life was wretched, wearisome,</span>
<span class="i0">And <i>is</i> so still, unchanged, belovèd moon!</span>
<span class="i0">And yet this recollection pleases me,</span> <span class="i0">This computation of my sorrow’s age.</span> <span class="i0">How pleasant is it, in the days of youth,</span> <span class="i0">When hope a long career before it hath,</span> <span class="i0">And memories are few, upon the past</span> <span class="i0">To dwell, though sad, and though the sadness last!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page60" id="page60" title="60"></SPAN>THE DREAM. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">It was the morning; through the shutters closed,</span>
<span class="i0">Along the balcony, the earliest rays</span> <span class="i0">Of sunlight my dark room were entering;</span> <span class="i0">When, at the time that sleep upon our eyes</span> <span class="i0">Its softest and most grateful shadows casts,</span>
<span class="i0">There stood beside me, looking in my face,</span>
<span class="i0">The image dear of her, who taught me first</span>
<span class="i0">To love, then left me to lament her loss.</span>
<span class="i0">To me she seemed not dead, but sad, with such</span>
<span class="i0">A countenance as the unhappy wear.</span> <span class="i0">Her right hand near my head she sighing placed;</span>
<span class="i0">“Dost thou still live,” she said to me,
“and dost</span> <span class="i0">Thou still remember what we
<i>were</i> and are?”</span> <span class="i0">And I replied:
“Whence comest thou, and how,</span> <span class="i0">Beloved
and beautiful? Oh how, how I</span> <span class="i0">Have grieved,
still grieve for thee! Nor did I think</span> <span class="i0">Thou
e’er couldst know it more; and oh, that thought</span> <span class="i0">My sorrow rendered more disconsolate!</span> <span class="i0">But art thou now again to leave me?</span> <span class="i0">I fear so. Say, what hath befallen thee?</span> <span class="i0">Art thou the same? What preys upon thee thus?”</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page61" id="page61" title="61"></SPAN>“Oblivion weighs upon thy thoughts, and sleep</span>
<span class="i0">Envelops them,” she answered; “I am dead,</span>
<span class="i0">And many months have passed, since last we met.”</span>
<span class="i0">What grief oppressed me, as these words I heard!</span>
<span class="i0">And she continued: “In the flower of youth</span>
<span class="i0">Cut off, when life is sweetest, and before</span>
<span class="i0">The heart that lesson sad and sure hath learnt,</span>
<span class="i0">The utter vanity of human hope!</span> <span class="i0">The sick man may e’en covet, as a boon,</span> <span class="i0">That which withdraws him from all suffering;</span>
<span class="i0">But to the young, Death comes, disconsolate;</span>
<span class="i0">And hard the fate of hope, that in the grave</span>
<span class="i0">Is quenched! And yet, how vain that knowledge is,</span>
<span class="i0">That Nature from the inexperienced hides!</span>
<span class="i0">And a blind sorrow is to be preferred</span> <span class="i0">To wisdom premature!”—“Hush, hush!” I
cried,</span> <span class="i0">“Unhappy one, and dear! My
heart is crushed</span> <span class="i0">With these thy words! And
art thou dead, indeed,</span> <span class="i0">O my beloved? and am
I still alive?</span> <span class="i0">And was it, then, in heaven
decreed, that this,</span> <span class="i0">Thy tender body the
last damps of death</span> <span class="i0">Should feel, and my
poor, wretched frame remain</span> <span class="i0">Unharmed? Oh,
often, often as I think</span> <span class="i0">That thou no longer
livest, and that I</span> <span class="i0">Shall never see thee on
the earth again,</span> <span class="i0">Incredible it seems! Alas,
alas!</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page62" id="page62" title="62"></SPAN>What <i>is</i> this thing, that they call
death? Oh, would</span> <span class="i0">That I, this day, the
mystery could solve,</span> <span class="i0">And my defenceless
head withdraw from Fate’s</span> <span class="i0">Relentless hate!
I still am young, and still</span> <span class="i0">Feel all the
blight and misery of age,</span> <span class="i0">Which I so dread;
and distant far it seems;</span> <span class="i0">But, ah, how
little different from age,</span> <span class="i0">The flower of my
years!”—“We both were born,”</span> <span class="i0">She said, “to weep; unhappy were our lives,</span>
<span class="i0">And heaven took pleasure in our sufferings.”</span>
<span class="i0">“Oh if my eyes with tears,” I added,
“then,</span> <span class="i0">My face with pallor veiled
thou seest, for loss</span> <span class="i0">Of thee, and anguish
weighing on my heart;</span> <span class="i0">Tell me, was any
spark of pity or of love</span> <span class="i0">For the poor lover
kindled in thy heart,</span> <span class="i0">While thou didst
live? I, then, between my hope</span> <span class="i0">And my
despair, passed weary nights and days;</span> <span class="i0">And
now, my mind is with vain doubts oppressed.</span> <span class="i0">Oh
if but once compassion smote thee for</span> <span class="i0">My
darkened life, conceal it not from me,</span> <span class="i0">I
pray thee; let the memory console me,</span> <span class="i0">Since
of their future our young days were robbed!”</span> <span class="i0">And she: “Be comforted, unhappy one!</span> <span class="i0">I was not churlish of my pity whilst</span> <span class="i0">I lived, and am not now, myself so wretched!</span>
<span class="i0">Oh, do not chide this most unhappy child!”</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page63" id="page63" title="63"></SPAN>“By all our sufferings, and by the love</span>
<span class="i0">Which preys upon me,” I exclaimed, “and by</span>
<span class="i0">Our youth, and by the hope that faded from</span>
<span class="i0">Our lives, O let me, dearest, touch thy hand!”</span>
<span class="i0">And sweetly, sadly, she extended it.</span> <span class="i0">And while I covered it with kisses, while</span> <span class="i0">With sorrow and with rapture quivering,</span> <span class="i0">I to my panting bosom fondly pressed it,</span> <span class="i0">With fervent passion glowed my face and breast,</span>
<span class="i0">My trembling voice refused its utterance,</span>
<span class="i0">And all things swam before my sight; when she,</span>
<span class="i0">Her eyes fixed tenderly on mine, replied:</span>
<span class="i0">“And dost thou, then, forget, dear friend, that I</span>
<span class="i0">Am of my beauty utterly deprived?</span> <span class="i0">And vainly thou, unhappy one, dost yield</span> <span class="i0">To passion’s transports. Now, a last farewell!</span>
<span class="i0">Our wretched minds, our feeble bodies, too,</span>
<span class="i0">Eternally are parted. Thou to me</span> <span class="i0">No longer livest, nevermore shall live.</span> <span class="i0">Fate hath annulled the faith that thou hast sworn.”</span>
<span class="i0">Then, in my anguish as I seemed to cry</span>
<span class="i0">Aloud, convulsed, my eyes o’erflowing with</span>
<span class="i0">The tears of utter, helpless misery,</span> <span class="i0">I started from my sleep. The image still</span> <span class="i0">Was seen, and in the sun’s uncertain light</span> <span class="i0">Above my couch she seemed to linger still.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page64" id="page64" title="64"></SPAN>THE LONELY LIFE. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">The morning rain, when, from her coop released,</span>
<span class="i0">The hen, exulting, flaps her wings, when from</span>
<span class="i0">The balcony the husbandman looks forth,</span>
<span class="i0">And when the rising sun his trembling rays</span>
<span class="i0">Darts through the falling drops, against my roof</span>
<span class="i0">And windows gently beating, wakens me.</span>
<span class="i0">I rise, and grateful, bless the flying clouds,</span>
<span class="i0">The cheerful twitter of the early birds,</span>
<span class="i0">The smiling fields, and the refreshing air.</span>
<span class="i0">For I of you, unhappy city walls,</span> <span class="i0">Enough have seen and known; where hatred still</span>
<span class="i0">Companion is to grief; and grieving still</span>
<span class="i0">I live, and so shall die, and that, how soon!</span>
<span class="i0">But here some pity Nature shows, though small,</span>
<span class="i0">Once in this spot to me so courteous!</span> <span class="i0">Thou, too, O Nature, turn’st away thy gaze</span> <span class="i0">From misery; thou, too, thy sympathy</span> <span class="i0">Withholding from the suffering and the sad,</span> <span class="i0">Dost homage pay to royal happiness.</span> <span class="i0">No friend in heaven, on earth, the wretched hath,</span>
<span class="i0">No refuge, save his trusty dagger’s edge.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page65" id="page65" title="65"></SPAN>Sometimes I sit in perfect solitude,</span> <span class="i0">Upon a hill, that overlooks a lake,</span> <span class="i0">That is encircled quite with silent trees.</span> <span class="i0">There, when the sun his mid-day course hath reached,</span>
<span class="i0">His tranquil face he in a mirror sees:</span>
<span class="i0">Nor grass nor leaf is shaken by the wind;</span>
<span class="i0">There is no ripple on the wave, no chirp</span>
<span class="i0">Of cricket, rustling wing of bird in bush,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor hum of butterfly; no motion, voice,</span>
<span class="i0">Or far or near, is either seen or heard.</span>
<span class="i0">Its shores are locked in quiet most profound;</span>
<span class="i0">So that myself, the world I quite forget,</span>
<span class="i0">As motionless I sit; my limbs appear</span> <span class="i0">To lie dissolved, of breath and sense deprived;</span>
<span class="i0">As if, in immemorial rest, they seemed</span>
<span class="i0">Confounded with the silent scene around.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O love, O love, long since, thou from this breast</span>
<span class="i0">Hast flown, that was so warm, so ardent, once.</span>
<span class="i0">Misfortune in her cold and cruel grasp</span>
<span class="i0">Has held it fast, and it to ice has turned,</span>
<span class="i0">E’en in the flower of my youth. The time</span>
<span class="i0">I well recall, when thou this heart didst fill;</span>
<span class="i0">That sweet, irrevocable time it was,</span> <span class="i0">When this unhappy scene of life unto</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page66" id="page66" title="66"></SPAN>The
ardent gaze of youth reveals itself,</span> <span class="i0">Expands,
and wears the smile of Paradise.</span> <span class="i0">How throbs
the heart within the boyish breast,</span> <span class="i0">By
virgin hope and fond desire impelled!</span> <span class="i0">The
wretched dupe for life’s hard work prepares,</span> <span class="i0">As
if it were a dance, or merry game.</span> <span class="i0">But when
<i>I</i> first, O love, thy presence felt,</span> <span class="i0">Misfortune
had already crushed my life,</span> <span class="i0">And these poor
eyes with constant tears were filled.</span> <span class="i0">Yet
if, at times, upon the sun-lit slopes,</span> <span class="i0">At
silent dawn, or when, in broad noonday,</span> <span class="i0">The
roofs and hills and fields are shining bright,</span> <span class="i0">I of some lonely maiden meet the gaze;</span> <span class="i0">Or when, in silence of the summer night,</span> <span class="i0">My wandering steps arresting, I before</span> <span class="i0">The houses of the village pause, to gaze</span> <span class="i0">Upon the lonely scene, and hear the voice,</span> <span class="i0">So clear and cheerful, of the maiden, who,</span> <span class="i0">Her ditty chanting, in her quiet room,</span> <span class="i0">Her daily task protracts into the night,</span> <span class="i0">Ah, then this stony heart will throb once more;</span>
<span class="i0">But soon, alas, its lethargy returns,</span> <span class="i0">For all things sweet are strangers to this breast!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Belovèd moon, beneath whose tranquil rays</span>
<span class="i0">The hares dance in the groves, and at the dawn</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page67" id="page67" title="67"></SPAN>The huntsman, vexed at heart, beholds the tracks</span>
<span class="i0">Confused and intricate, that from their forms</span>
<span class="i0">His steps mislead; hail, thou benignant Queen</span>
<span class="i0">Of Night! How unpropitious fall thy rays,</span>
<span class="i0">Among the cliffs and thickets, or within</span>
<span class="i0">Deserted buildings, on the gleaming steel</span>
<span class="i0">Of robber pale, who with attentive ear</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the distant noise of horses and</span> <span class="i0">Of wheels, is listening, or the tramp of feet</span>
<span class="i0">Upon the silent road; then, suddenly,</span> <span class="i0">With sound of arms, and hoarse, harsh voice, and look</span>
<span class="i0">Of death, the traveller’s heart doth chill,</span>
<span class="i0">Whom he half-dead, and naked, shortly leaves</span>
<span class="i0">Among the rocks. How unpropitious, too,</span>
<span class="i0">Is thy bright light along the city streets,</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the worthless paramour, who picks</span>
<span class="i0">His way, close to the walls, in anxious search</span>
<span class="i0">Of friendly shade, and halts, and dreads the sight</span>
<span class="i0">Of blazing lamps, and open balconies.</span> <span class="i0">To evil spirits unpropitious still,</span> <span class="i0">To <i>me</i> thy face will ever seem benign,</span>
<span class="i0">Along these heights, where nought save smiling hills,</span>
<span class="i0">And spacious fields, thou offer’st to my view.</span>
<span class="i0">And yet it was my wayward custom once,</span>
<span class="i0">Though I was innocent, thy gracious ray</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page68" id="page68" title="68"></SPAN>To chide, amid the haunts of men, whene’er</span>
<span class="i0">It would my face to them betray, and when</span>
<span class="i0">It would their faces unto me reveal.</span> <span class="i0">Now will I, grateful, sing its constant praise,</span>
<span class="i0">When I behold thee, sailing through the clouds,</span>
<span class="i0">Or when, mild sovereign of the realms of air,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou lookest down on this, our vale of tears.</span>
<span class="i0">Me wilt thou oft behold, mute wanderer</span>
<span class="i0">Among the groves, along the verdant banks,</span>
<span class="i0">Or seated on the grass, content enough,</span>
<span class="i0">If heart and breath are left me, for a sigh!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> CONSALVO. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Approaching now the end of his abode</span> <span class="i0">On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once,</span> <span class="i0">Of his hard fate, but now quite reconciled,</span> <span class="i0">When, in the midst of his fifth lustre, o’er</span>
<span class="i0">His head oblivion, so longed-for, hung.</span>
<span class="i0">As for some time, so, on his dying day,</span>
<span class="i0">He lay, abandoned by his dearest friends:</span>
<span class="i0">For in the world, few friends to <i>him</i> will cling,</span>
<span class="i0">Who shows that he is weary of the world.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page69" id="page69" title="69"></SPAN>Yet <i>she</i> was at his side, by pity led,</span>
<span class="i0">In his lone wretchedness to comfort him,</span>
<span class="i0">Who was alone and ever in his thought;</span>
<span class="i0">Elvira, for her loveliness renowned;</span> <span class="i0">And knowing well her power; that a look,</span> <span class="i0">A single sweet and gracious word from <i>her</i>,</span>
<span class="i0">A thousand-fold repeated in the heart,</span>
<span class="i0">Devoted, of her hapless lover, still</span> <span class="i0">His consolation and support had been,</span> <span class="i0">Although no word of love had she from him</span> <span class="i0">E’er heard. For ever in his soul the power</span> <span class="i0">Of great desire had been rebuked and crushed</span>
<span class="i0">By sovereign fear. So great a child and slave</span>
<span class="i0">Had he become, through his excess of love!</span>
<span class="i0">But death at last the cruel silence broke;</span>
<span class="i0">For being by sure signs convinced, that now</span>
<span class="i0">The day of his deliverance had come,</span> <span class="i0">Her white hand taking, as she was about</span> <span class="i0">To leave, and gently pressing it, he said:</span> <span class="i0">“Thou goest; it is time for thee to go;</span>
<span class="i0">Farewell, Elvira! I shall never see</span> <span class="i0">Thee more; too well I know it; so, farewell!</span>
<span class="i0">I thank thee for thy gentle sympathy,</span> <span class="i0">So far as my poor lips my thanks can speak.</span> <span class="i0"><i>He</i> will reward thee, who alone has power,</span>
<span class="i0">If heaven e’er rewards the merciful.”</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page70" id="page70" title="70"></SPAN>Pale turned the fair one at these words; a sigh</span>
<span class="i0">Her bosom heaved; for e’en a stranger’s heart</span>
<span class="i0">A throb responsive feels, when she departs,</span>
<span class="i0">And says farewell forever. Fain would she</span>
<span class="i0">Have contradicted him, the near approach</span>
<span class="i0">Of fate concealing from the dying man.</span>
<span class="i0">But he, her thought anticipating, said:</span>
<span class="i0">“Ah, much desired, as well thou knowest, death,</span>
<span class="i0">Much prayed for, and not dreaded, comes to me;</span>
<span class="i0">Nay, joyful seems to me this fatal day,</span>
<span class="i0">Save for the thought of losing thee forever;</span>
<span class="i0">Alas, forever do I part from thee!</span> <span class="i0">In saying this my heart is rent in twain.</span> <span class="i0">Those eyes I shall no more behold, nor hear</span> <span class="i0">Thy voice. But, O Elvira, say, before</span> <span class="i0">Thou leavest me forever, wilt thou not</span> <span class="i0">One kiss bestow? A single kiss, in all</span> <span class="i0">My life? A favor asked, who can deny</span> <span class="i0">Unto a dying man? Of the sweet gift</span> <span class="i0">I ne’er can boast, so near my end, whose lips</span>
<span class="i0">To-day will by a stranger’s hand be closed</span>
<span class="i0">Forever.” Saying this, with a deep sigh,</span>
<span class="i0">Her hand beloved he with his cold lips pressed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The lovely woman stood irresolute,</span> <span class="i0">And thoughtful, for a moment, with her look,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page71" id="page71" title="71"></SPAN>In which a thousand charms were radiant,</span>
<span class="i0">Intent on that of the unhappy man,</span> <span class="i0">Where the last tear was glittering. Nor would</span>
<span class="i0">Her heart permit her to refuse with scorn</span>
<span class="i0">His wish, and by refusal, make more sad</span>
<span class="i0">The sad farewell; but she compassion took</span>
<span class="i0">Upon his love, which she had known so long;</span>
<span class="i0">And that celestial face, that mouth, which he</span>
<span class="i0">So long had coveted, which had, for years,</span>
<span class="i0">The burden been of all his dreams and sighs,</span>
<span class="i0">Close bringing unto his, so sad and wan,</span>
<span class="i0">Discolored by his mortal agony,</span> <span class="i0">Kiss after kiss, all goodness, with a look</span> <span class="i0">Of deep compassion, on the trembling lips</span> <span class="i0">Of the enraptured lover she impressed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">What didst thou then become? How in thy eyes</span>
<span class="i0">Appeared life, death, and all thy suffering,</span>
<span class="i0">Consalvo, in thy flight now pausing? He</span>
<span class="i0">The hand, which still he held, of his beloved</span>
<span class="i0">Elvira, placing on his heart, whose last</span>
<span class="i0">Pulsations love with death was sharing, said:</span>
<span class="i0">“Elvira, my Elvira, am I still</span> <span class="i0">On earth? Those lips, were they thy lips? O, say!</span>
<span class="i0">And do I press thy hand? Alas, it seems</span>
<span class="i0">A dead man’s vision, or a dream, or thing</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page72" id="page72" title="72"></SPAN>Incredible! How much, Elvira, O,</span> <span class="i0">How much I owe to death! Long has my love</span> <span class="i0">Been known to thee, and unto others, for</span> <span class="i0">True love cannot be hidden on the earth.</span> <span class="i0">Too manifest it was to thee, in looks,</span> <span class="i0">In acts, in my unhappy countenance,</span> <span class="i0">But never in my words. For then, and now,</span> <span class="i0">Forever would the passion infinite,</span> <span class="i0">That rules my heart, be silent, had not death</span>
<span class="i0">With courage filled it. I shall die content;</span>
<span class="i0">Henceforth, with destiny, no more regret</span>
<span class="i0">That I e’er saw the light. I have not lived</span>
<span class="i0">In vain, now that my lips have been allowed</span>
<span class="i0">Thy lips to press. Nay, happy I esteem</span>
<span class="i0">My lot. Two precious things the world still gives</span>
<span class="i0">To mortals, Love and Death. To one, heaven guides</span>
<span class="i0">Me now, in youth; and in the other, I</span> <span class="i0">Am fortunate. Ah, hadst thou once, but once,</span>
<span class="i0">Responded to my long-enduring love,</span> <span class="i0">To my changed eyes this earth for evermore</span> <span class="i0">Had been transformed into a Paradise.</span> <span class="i0">E’en to old age, detestable old age,</span> <span class="i0">Could I have been resigned and reconciled.</span> <span class="i0">To bear its heavy load, the memory</span> <span class="i0">Of one transcendent moment had sufficed,</span> <span class="i0">When I was happier than the happiest,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page73" id="page73" title="73"></SPAN>But,
ah, such bliss supreme the envious gods</span> <span class="i0">To
earthly natures ne’er have given! Love</span> <span class="i0">In
such excess ne’er leads to happiness.</span> <span class="i0">And
yet, thy love to win, I would have borne</span> <span class="i0">The
tortures of the executioner;</span> <span class="i0">Have faced the
rack and fagot, dauntlessly;</span> <span class="i0">Would from thy
loving arms have rushed into</span> <span class="i0">The fearful
flames of hell, with cheerfulness.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“Elvira, O Elvira, happy he,</span> <span class="i0">Beyond all mortal happiness, on whom</span> <span class="i0">Thou dost the smile of love bestow! And next</span>
<span class="i0">Is he, who can lay down his life for thee!</span>
<span class="i0">It <i>is</i> permitted, it is not a dream,</span>
<span class="i0">As I, alas, have always fancied it,</span> <span class="i0">To man, on earth true happiness to find.</span> <span class="i0">I knew it well, the day I looked on thee.</span> <span class="i0">That look to me, indeed, has fatal been:</span> <span class="i0">And yet, I could not bring myself, midst all</span>
<span class="i0">My sufferings, that cruel day to blame.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">“Now live, Elvira, happy, and adorn</span>
<span class="i0">The world with thy fair countenance. None e’er</span>
<span class="i0">Will love thee as I loved thee. Such a love</span>
<span class="i0">Will ne’er be seen on earth. How much, alas,</span>
<span class="i0">How long a time by poor Consalvo hast</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page74" id="page74" title="74"></SPAN>Thou
been with sighs and bitter tears invoked!</span> <span class="i0">How,
when I heard thy name, have I turned pale!</span> <span class="i0">How
have I trembled, and been sick at heart,</span> <span class="i0">As
timidly thy threshold I approached,</span> <span class="i0">At that
angelic voice, at sight of that</span> <span class="i0">Fair brow,
I, who now tremble not at death!</span> <span class="i0">But breath
and life no longer will respond</span> <span class="i0">Unto the
voice of love. The time has passed;</span> <span class="i0">Nor can
I e’er this happy day recall.</span> <span class="i0">Farewell,
Elvira! With its vital spark</span> <span class="i0">Thy image so
beloved is from my heart</span> <span class="i0">Forever fading.
Oh, farewell! If this,</span> <span class="i0">My love offend thee
not, to-morrow eve</span> <span class="i0">One sigh wilt thou
bestow upon my bier.”</span> <span class="i0">He ceased; and
soon he lost his consciousness:</span> <span class="i0">Ere evening
came, his first, his only day</span> <span class="i0">Of happiness
had faded from his sight.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO THE BELOVED. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Beauty beloved, who hast my heart inspired,</span>
<span class="i0">Seen from afar, or with thy face concealed,</span>
<span class="i0">Save, when in visions of the night revealed,</span>
<span class="i0">Or seen in daydreams bright,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page75" id="page75" title="75"></SPAN>When
all the fields are filled with light,</span> <span class="i0">And
Nature’s smile is sweet,</span> <span class="i0">Say, hast thou
blessed</span> <span class="i0">Some golden age of innocence,</span>
<span class="i0">And floatest, now, a shadow, o’er the earth?</span>
<span class="i0">Or hath Fate’s envious doom</span> <span class="i0">Reserved
thee for some happier day to come?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">To see thee e’er alive,</span> <span class="i0">No
hope remains to me;</span> <span class="i0">Unless perchance, when
from this body free,</span> <span class="i0">My wandering spirit,
lone,</span> <span class="i0">O’er some new path, to some new world
hath flown.</span> <span class="i0">E’en here, at first, I, at the
dawn</span> <span class="i0">Of this, my day, so dreary and
forlorn,</span> <span class="i0">Sought thee, to guide me on my
weary way:</span> <span class="i0">But none on earth resembles
thee. E’en if</span> <span class="i0">One were in looks and acts
and words thy peer,</span> <span class="i0">Though like thee, she
less lovely would appear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Amidst the deepest grief</span> <span class="i0">That
fate hath e’er to human lot assigned,</span> <span class="i0">Could
one but love thee on this earth,</span> <span class="i0">Alive, and
such as my thought painteth thee,</span> <span class="i0">He would
be happy in his misery:</span> <span class="i0">And I most clearly
see, how, still,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page76" id="page76" title="76"></SPAN>As in my earliest days,</span>
<span class="i0">Thy love would make me cling to virtue’s ways.</span>
<span class="i0">Unto <i>my</i> grief heaven hath no comfort brought;</span>
<span class="i0">And yet with thee, this mortal life would seem</span>
<span title="Original started new stanza here" class="i0">Like that in
heaven, of which we fondly dream.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Along the valleys where is heard</span> <span class="i0">The song of the laborious husbandman,</span> <span class="i0">And where I sit and moan</span> <span class="i0">O’er
youth’s illusions gone;</span> <span class="i0">Along the hills,
where I recall with tears,</span> <span class="i0">The vanished
joys and hopes of earlier years,</span> <span class="i0">At thought
of thee, my heart revives again.</span> <span class="i0">O could I
still thy image dear retain,</span> <span class="i0">In this dark
age, and in this baleful air!</span> <span class="i0">To loss of
thee, O let me be resigned,</span> <span class="i0">And in thy
image still some comfort find!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">If thou art one of those</span> <span class="i0">Ideas
eternal, which the Eternal Mind</span> <span class="i0">Refused in
earthly form to clothe,</span> <span class="i0">Nor would subject
unto the pain and strife</span> <span class="i0">Of this, our frail
and dreary life;</span> <span class="i0">Or if thou hast a mansion
fair,</span> <span class="i0">Amid the boundless realms of space,</span>
<span class="i0">That lighted is by a more genial sun,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page77" id="page77" title="77"></SPAN>And
breathest there a more benignant air;</span> <span class="i0">From
here, where brief and wretched are our days,</span> <span class="i0">Receive
thy humble lover’s hymn of praise!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO COUNT CARLO PEPOLI. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">This wearisome and this distressing sleep</span>
<span class="i0">That we call life, O how dost thou support,</span>
<span class="i0">My Pepoli? With what hopes feedest thou</span>
<span class="i0">Thy heart? Say in what thoughts, and in what deeds,</span>
<span class="i0">Agreeable or sad, dost thou invest</span> <span class="i0">The idleness thy ancestors bequeathed</span> <span class="i0">To thee, a dull and heavy heritage?</span> <span class="i0">All life, indeed, in every walk of life,</span> <span class="i0">Is idleness, if we may give that name</span> <span class="i0">To every work achieved, or effort made,</span> <span class="i0">That has no worthy aim in view, or fails</span> <span class="i0">That aim to reach. And if you idle call</span> <span class="i0">The busy crew, that daily we behold,</span> <span class="i0">From tranquil morn unto the dewy eve,</span> <span class="i0">Behind the plough, or tending plants and flocks,</span>
<span class="i0">Because they live simply to keep alive,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page78" id="page78" title="78"></SPAN>And life is worthless for itself alone,</span> <span class="i0">The honest truth you speak. His nights and days</span>
<span class="i0">The pilot spends in idleness; the toil</span>
<span class="i0">And sweat in workshops are but idleness;</span>
<span class="i0">The soldier’s vigils, perils of the field,</span>
<span class="i0">The eager merchant’s cares are idle all;</span>
<span class="i0">Because true happiness, for which alone</span>
<span class="i0">Our mortal nature longs and strives, no man,</span>
<span class="i0">Or for himself, or others, e’er acquires</span>
<span class="i0">Through toil or sweat, through peril, or through care.</span>
<span class="i0">Yet for this fierce desire, which mortals still</span>
<span class="i0">From the beginning of the world have felt,</span>
<span class="i0">But ever felt in vain, for happiness,</span> <span class="i0">By way of soothing remedy devised,</span> <span class="i0">Nature, in this unhappy life of ours,</span> <span class="i0">Had manifold necessities prepared,</span> <span class="i0">Not without thought or labor satisfied;</span> <span class="i0">So that the days, though ever sad, less dull</span>
<span class="i0">Might seem unto the human family;</span> <span class="i0">And this desire, bewildered and confused,</span> <span class="i0">Might have less power to agitate the heart.</span> <span class="i0">So, too, the various families of brutes,</span> <span class="i0">Who have, no less than we, and vainly, too,</span> <span class="i0">Desire for happiness; but they, intent</span> <span class="i0">On that which is essential to their life,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page79" id="page79" title="79"></SPAN>Consume
their days more pleasantly, by far,</span> <span class="i0">Nor
chide, with us, the dulness of the hours.</span> <span class="i0">But
<i>we</i>, who unto other hands commit</span> <span class="i0">The
furnishing of our immediate wants,</span> <span class="i0">Have a
necessity more grave to meet,</span> <span class="i0">For which no
other ever can provide,</span> <span class="i0">With ennui laden,
and with suffering;</span> <span class="i0">The stern necessity of
killing time;</span> <span class="i0">That cruel, obstinate
necessity,</span> <span class="i0">From which, nor hoarded gold,
nor wealth of flocks,</span> <span class="i0">Nor fertile fields,
nor sumptuous palaces,</span> <span class="i0">Nor purple robes,
the race of man can save.</span> <span class="i0">And if one,
scorning such a barren life,</span> <span class="i0">And hating to
behold the light of day,</span> <span class="i0">Turns not a
homicidal hand upon</span> <span class="i0">Himself, anticipating
sluggish Fate,</span> <span class="i0">For the sharp sting of
unappeased desire,</span> <span class="i0">That vainly calls for
happiness, he seeks,</span> <span class="i0">In desperate chase, on
every side, in vain,</span> <span class="i0">A thousand inefficient
remedies,</span> <span class="i0">In lieu of that, which Nature
gives to all.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">One to his dress devotes himself, and hair,</span>
<span class="i0">His gait and gesture and the learned lore</span>
<span class="i0">Of horses, carriages, to crowded halls,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page80" id="page80" title="80"></SPAN>To thronged piazzas, and to gardens gay;</span>
<span class="i0">Another gives his nights and days to games,</span>
<span class="i0">And feasts, and dances with the reigning belles:</span>
<span class="i0">A smile perpetual is on his lips;</span> <span class="i0">But in his breast, alas, stern and severe,</span> <span class="i0">Like adamantine column motionless,</span> <span class="i0">Eternal ennui sits, against whose might</span> <span class="i0">Avail not vigorous youth, nor prattle fond</span> <span class="i0">That falls from rosy lips, nor tender glance</span>
<span class="i0">That trembles in two dark and lustrous eyes;</span>
<span class="i0">The most bewildering of mortal things,</span>
<span class="i0">Most precious gift of heaven unto man.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Another, as if hoping to escape</span> <span class="i0">Sad destiny, in changing lands and climes</span> <span class="i0">His days consuming, wandering o’er sea</span> <span class="i0">And hills, the whole earth traverses; each spot</span>
<span class="i0">That Nature, in her infinite domain,</span> <span class="i0">To restless man hath made accessible,</span> <span class="i0">He visits in his wanderings. Alas,</span> <span class="i0">Black care is seated on the lofty prow;</span> <span class="i0">Beneath each clime, each sky, he asks in vain</span>
<span class="i0">For happiness; sadness still lives and reigns.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Another in the cruel deeds of war</span> <span class="i0">Prefers to pass his hours, and dips his hand,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page81" id="page81" title="81"></SPAN>For his diversion, in his brother’s blood:</span>
<span class="i0">Another in his neighbor’s misery</span> <span class="i0">His comfort finds, and artfully contrives</span> <span class="i0">To kill the time, in making others sad.</span> <span class="i0"><i>This</i> man still walks in wisdom’s ways, or art</span>
<span class="i0">Pursues; <i>that</i> tramples on the people’s rights,</span>
<span class="i0">At home, abroad; the ancient rest disturbs</span>
<span class="i0">Of distant shores, on fraudful gain intent,</span>
<span class="i0">With cruel war, or sharp diplomacy;</span> <span class="i0">And so his destined part of life consumes.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thee a more gentle wish, a care more sweet</span>
<span class="i0">Leads and controls, still in the flower of youth,</span>
<span class="i0">In the fair April of thy days, to most</span>
<span class="i0">A time so pleasant, heaven’s choicest gift;</span>
<span class="i0">But heavy, bitter, wearisome to <i>him</i></span>
<span class="i0">Who has no country. Thee the love of song</span>
<span class="i0">Impels, and of portraying in thy speech</span>
<span class="i0">The beauty, that so seldom in the world</span>
<span class="i0">Appears and fades so soon, and <i>that</i>, more rare</span>
<span class="i0">Which fond imagination, kinder far</span> <span class="i0">Than Nature, or than heaven, so bounteously</span> <span class="i0">For our entranced, deluded souls provides.</span> <span class="i0">Oh, fortunate a thousand-fold is he,</span> <span class="i0">Who loses not his fancy’s freshness as</span> <span class="i0">The years roll by; whom envious Fate permits</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page82" id="page82" title="82"></SPAN>To keep eternal sunshine in his heart,</span> <span class="i0">Who, in his ripe and his declining years,</span> <span class="i0">As was his custom in his glorious youth,</span> <span class="i0">In his deep thought enhances Nature’s charms,</span>
<span class="i0">Gives life to death, and to the desert, bloom.</span>
<span class="i0">May heaven this fortune give to thee; and may</span>
<span class="i0">The spark that now so warms thy breast, make thee</span>
<span class="i0">In thy old age a votary of song!</span> <span class="i0"><i>I</i> feel no more the sweet illusions of</span>
<span class="i0">That happy time; those charming images</span>
<span class="i0">Have faded from my eyes, that I so loved,</span>
<span class="i0">And which, unto my latest hour, will be</span>
<span class="i0">Remembered still, with hopeless sighs and tears.</span>
<span class="i0">And when this breast to all things has become</span>
<span class="i0">Insensible and cold, nor the sweet smile</span>
<span class="i0">And rest profound of lonely sun-lit plains,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor cheerful morning song of birds in spring,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor moonlight soft, that rests on hills and fields,</span>
<span class="i0">Beneath the limpid sky, will move my heart;</span>
<span class="i0">When every beauty, both of Nature, and</span>
<span class="i0">Of Art, to me will be inanimate</span> <span class="i0">And mute; each tender feeling, lofty thought,</span>
<span class="i0">Unknown and strange; my only comfort, then,</span>
<span class="i0">Poor beggar, must I find in studies more</span>
<span class="i0">Severe; to them, thenceforward, must devote</span>
<span class="i0">The wretched remnant of unhappy life:</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page83" id="page83" title="83"></SPAN>The
bitter truth must I investigate,</span> <span class="i0">The
destinies mysterious, alike</span> <span class="i0">Of mortal and
immortal things;</span> <span class="i0">For what was suffering
humanity,</span> <span class="i0">Bowed down beneath the weight of
misery,</span> <span class="i0">Created; to what final goal are
Fate</span> <span class="i0">And Nature urging it; to whom can our</span>
<span class="i0">Great sorrow any pleasure, profit give;</span>
<span class="i0">Beneath what laws and orders, to what end,</span>
<span class="i0">The mighty Universe revolves—the theme</span>
<span class="i0">Of wise men’s praise, to <i>me</i> a mystery?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I in these speculations will consume</span> <span class="i0">My idleness; because the truth, when known,</span> <span class="i0">Though sad, has yet its charms. And if, at times,</span>
<span class="i0">The truth discussing, my opinions should</span>
<span class="i0">Unwelcome be, or not be understood,</span> <span class="i0">I shall not grieve, indeed, because in me</span> <span class="i0">The love of fame will be extinguished quite;</span>
<span class="i0">Of fame, that idol frivolous and blind;</span>
<span class="i0">More blind by far than Fortune, or than Love.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page84" id="page84" title="84"></SPAN>THE RESURRECTION. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">I thought I had forever lost,</span> <span class="i1"> Alas, though still so young,</span> <span class="i0">The tender joys and sorrows all,</span> <span class="i1"> That
unto youth belong;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The sufferings sweet, the impulses</span> <span class="i1"> Our inmost hearts that warm;</span> <span class="i0">Whatever gives this life of ours</span> <span class="i1"> Its
value and its charm.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">What sore laments, what bitter tears</span> <span class="i1"> O’er my sad state I shed,</span> <span class="i0">When first I felt from my cold heart</span> <span class="i1"> Its gentle pains had fled!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Its throbs I felt no more; my love</span> <span class="i1"> Within me seemed to die;</span> <span class="i0">Nor from my frozen, senseless breast</span> <span class="i1"> Escaped a single sigh!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I wept o’er my sad, hapless lot;</span> <span class="i1"> The life of life seemed lost;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page85" id="page85" title="85"></SPAN>The
earth an arid wilderness,</span> <span class="i1"> Locked
in eternal frost;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The day how dreary, and the night</span> <span class="i1"> How dull, and dark, and lone!</span> <span class="i0">The moon for me no brightness had,</span> <span class="i1"> No star in heaven shone.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And yet the old love was the cause</span> <span class="i1"> Of all the tears I shed;</span> <span class="i0">Still in my inmost breast I felt</span> <span class="i1"> The
heart was not yet dead.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">My weary fancy still would crave</span> <span class="i1"> The images it loved,</span> <span class="i0">And
its capricious longings still</span> <span class="i1"> A
source of sorrow proved.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But e’en that lingering spark of grief</span>
<span class="i1"> Was soon within me spent,</span> <span class="i0">And I the strength no longer had</span> <span class="i1"> To
utter a lament.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And there I lay, stunned, stupefied,</span> <span class="i1"> Nor asked for comfort more;</span> <span class="i0">My heart to hopeless, blank despair</span> <span class="i1"> Itself had given o’er.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page86" id="page86" title="86"></SPAN>How changed, alas, was I from him</span> <span class="i1"> Who once with passion thrilled,</span> <span class="i0">Whose ardent soul was ever, once,</span> <span class="i1"> With
sweet illusions filled!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The swallow to my window, still,</span> <span class="i1"> Would come, to greet the dawn;</span> <span class="i0">But his sweet song no echo found</span> <span class="i1"> In
my poor heart, forlorn.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nor pleased me more, in autumn gray,</span> <span class="i1"> Upon the hill-side lone,</span> <span class="i0">The cheerful vesper-bell, or light</span> <span class="i1"> Of the departing sun.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">In vain the evening star I saw</span> <span class="i1"> Above the silent vale,</span> <span class="i0">And vainly warbled in the grove</span> <span class="i1"> The
plaintive nightingale.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And you, ye furtive glances, bright,</span> <span class="i1"> From gentle eyes that rove,</span> <span class="i0">The sweet, the gracious messages</span> <span class="i1"> Of
first immortal Love;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page87" id="page87" title="87"></SPAN>The soft, white hand, that tenderly</span> <span class="i1"> My own hand seemed to woo;</span> <span class="i0">All, all your magic spells were vain,</span> <span class="i1"> My torpor to subdue.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Of every pleasure quite bereft,</span> <span class="i1"> Sad but of tranquil mien;</span> <span class="i0">A state of perfect littleness,</span> <span class="i1"> Yet
with a face serene;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Save for the lingering wish, indeed,</span> <span class="i1"> In death to sink to rest,</span> <span class="i0">The force of all desire was spent</span> <span class="i1"> In
my exhausted breast.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">As some poor, feeble wanderer,</span> <span class="i1"> With age and sorrow bent,</span> <span class="i0">The April of my years, alas,</span> <span class="i1"> Thus
listlessly I spent;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thus listlessly, thus wearily,</span> <span class="i1"> Didst thou consume, O heart,</span> <span class="i0">Those golden days, ineffable,</span> <span class="i1"> So
swiftly that depart.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page88" id="page88" title="88"></SPAN><i>Who</i>, from this heavy, heedless rest</span>
<span class="i1"> Awakens me again?</span> <span class="i0">What new, what magic power is this,</span> <span class="i1"> I feel within me reign?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Ye motions sweet, ye images,</span> <span class="i1"> Ye throbs, illusions blest,</span> <span class="i0">Ah, no,—ye are not then shut out</span> <span class="i1"> Forever from this breast?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The glorious light of golden days</span> <span class="i1"> Do ye again unfold?</span> <span class="i0">The
old affections that I lost,</span> <span class="i1"> Do
I once more behold?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Now, as I gaze upon the sky,</span> <span class="i1"> Or on the verdant fields,</span> <span class="i0">Each thing with sorrow me inspires,</span> <span class="i1"> And each a pleasure yields.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The mountain, forest, and the shore</span> <span class="i1"> Once more my heart rejoice;</span> <span class="i0">The fountain speaks to me once more,</span> <span class="i1"> The sea hath found a voice.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page89" id="page89" title="89"></SPAN>Who, after all this apathy,</span> <span class="i1"> Restores
to me my tears?</span> <span class="i0">Each moment, as I look
around,</span> <span class="i1"> How changed the world
appears!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Hath hope, perchance, O my poor heart,</span>
<span class="i1"> Beguiled thee of thy pain?</span>
<span class="i0">Ah, no, the gracious smile of hope</span> <span class="i1"> I ne’er shall see again.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nature bestowed these impulses,</span> <span class="i1"> And these illusions blest;</span> <span class="i0">Their inborn influence, in me,</span> <span class="i1"> By
suffering was suppressed;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But not annulled, not overcome</span> <span class="i1"> By cruel blows of Fate;</span> <span class="i0">Nor by the inauspicious frown</span> <span class="i1"> Of
Truth, importunate!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I know she has no sympathy</span> <span class="i1"> For
fond imaginings;</span> <span class="i0">I know that Nature, too,
is deaf,</span> <span class="i1"> Nor heeds our
sufferings;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page90" id="page90" title="90"></SPAN>That for our <i>good</i> she nothing cares,</span>
<span class="i1"> Our <i>being</i>, only heeds;</span>
<span class="i0">And with the sight of our distress</span> <span class="i1"> Her wild caprices feeds.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I know the poor man pleads in vain,</span> <span class="i1"> For others’ sympathy;</span> <span class="i0">That
scornfully, or heedlessly,</span> <span class="i1"> All
from his presence flee;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">That both for genius and for worth,</span> <span class="i1"> This age has no respect;</span> <span class="i0">That all who cherish lofty aims</span> <span class="i1"> Are
left to cold neglect.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And you, ye eyes so tremulous</span> <span class="i1"> With lustre all divine,</span> <span class="i0">I know how false your splendors are,</span> <span class="i1"> Where no true love doth shine.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">No love mysterious and profound</span> <span class="i1"> Illumes you with its glow;</span> <span class="i0">Nor gleams one spark of genial fire</span> <span class="i1"> Beneath that breast of snow.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page91" id="page91" title="91"></SPAN>Nay, it is wont to laugh to scorn</span> <span class="i1"> Another’s tender pain;</span> <span class="i0">The fervent flame of heavenly love</span> <span class="i1"> To treat with cold disdain.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Yet I with thankfulness once more</span> <span class="i1"> The old illusions greet,</span> <span class="i0">And feel, with shock of pleased surprise,</span> <span class="i1"> The heart within me beat.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">To thee alone this force renewed,</span> <span class="i1"> This vital power I owe;</span> <span class="i0">From thee alone, my faithful heart,</span> <span class="i1"> My only comforts flow.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I feel it is the destiny</span> <span class="i1"> Of
every noble mind,</span> <span class="i0">In Fate, in Fortune,
Beauty, and the World,</span> <span class="i1"> An enemy
to find:</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But while thou liv’st, nor yield’st to Fate,</span>
<span class="i1"> Contending without fear,</span> <span class="i0">I will not tax with cruelty</span> <span class="i1"> The
power that placed me here.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page92" id="page92" title="92"></SPAN>TO SYLVIA. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">O Sylvia, dost thou remember still</span> <span class="i0">That period of thy mortal life,</span> <span class="i0">When
beauty so bewildering</span> <span class="i0">Shone in thy
laughing, glancing eyes,</span> <span class="i0">As thou, so merry,
yet so wise,</span> <span class="i0">Youth’s threshold then wast
entering?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How did the quiet rooms,</span> <span class="i0">And
all the paths around,</span> <span class="i0">With thy perpetual
song resound,</span> <span class="i0">As thou didst sit, on woman’s
work intent,</span> <span class="i0">Abundantly content</span>
<span class="i0">With the vague future, floating on thy mind!</span>
<span class="i0">Thy custom thus to spend the day</span> <span class="i0">In that sweet time of youth and May!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How could I, then, at times,</span> <span class="i0">In those fair days of youth,</span> <span class="i0">The
only happy days I ever knew,</span> <span class="i0">My hard tasks
dropping, or my careless rhymes,</span> <span class="i0">My station
take, on father’s balcony,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page93" id="page93" title="93"></SPAN>And listen to
thy voice’s melody,</span> <span class="i0">And watch thy hands, as
they would deftly fly</span> <span class="i0">O’er thy embroidery!</span>
<span class="i0">I gazed upon the heaven serene,</span> <span class="i0">The sun-lit paths, the orchards green,</span> <span class="i0">The distant mountain here,</span> <span class="i0">And
there, the far-off sea.</span> <span class="i0">Ah, mortal tongue
cannot express</span> <span class="i0">What then I felt of
happiness!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">What gentle thoughts, what hopes divine,</span>
<span class="i0">What loving hearts, O Sylvia mine!</span> <span class="i0">In what bright colors then portrayed</span> <span class="i0">Were human life and fate!</span> <span class="i0">Oh,
when I think of such fond hopes betrayed,</span> <span class="i0">A
feeling seizes me</span> <span class="i0">Of bitterness and misery,</span>
<span class="i0">And tenfold is my grief renewed!</span> <span class="i0">O Nature, why this treachery?</span> <span class="i0">Why
thus, with broken promises,</span> <span class="i0">Thy children’s
hearts delude?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou, ere the grass was touched with winter’s frost,</span>
<span class="i0">By fell disease attacked and overcome,</span>
<span class="i0">O tender plant, didst die!</span> <span class="i0">The
flower of thy days thou ne’er didst see;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page94" id="page94" title="94"></SPAN>Nor did thy
soft heart move</span> <span class="i0">Now of thy raven locks the
tender praise,</span> <span class="i0">Now of thy eyes, so loving
and so shy;</span> <span class="i0">Nor with thee, on the holidays,</span>
<span class="i0">Did thy companions talk of love.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">So perished, too, erelong,</span> <span class="i0">My
own sweet hope;</span> <span class="i0">So too, unto my years</span>
<span class="i0">Did Fate their youth deny.</span> <span class="i0">Alas,
alas the day,</span> <span class="i0">Lamented hope, companion
dear,</span> <span class="i0">How hast thou passed away!</span>
<span class="i0">Is <i>this</i> that world? These the delights,</span>
<span class="i0">The love, the labors, the events,</span> <span class="i0">Of which we once so fondly spoke?</span> <span class="i0">And
must <i>all</i> mortals wear this weary yoke?</span> <span class="i0">Ah, when the truth appeared,</span> <span class="i0">It
better seemed to die!</span> <span class="i0">Cold death, the
barren tomb, didst thou prefer</span> <span class="i0">To harsh
reality.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page95" id="page95" title="95"></SPAN>RECOLLECTIONS. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Ye dear stars of the Bear, I did not think</span>
<span class="i0">I should again be turning, as I used,</span> <span class="i0">To see you over father’s garden shine,</span> <span class="i0">And from the windows talk with you again</span> <span class="i0">Of this old house, where as a child I dwelt,</span>
<span class="i0">And where I saw the end of all my joys.</span>
<span class="i0">What charming images, what fables, once,</span>
<span class="i0">The sight of you created in my thought,</span>
<span class="i0">And of the lights that bear you company!</span>
<span class="i0">Silent upon the verdant clod I sat,</span> <span class="i0">My evening thus consuming, as I gazed</span> <span class="i0">Upon the heavens, and listened to the chant</span> <span class="i0">Of frogs that in the distant marshes croaked;</span>
<span class="i0">While o’er the hedges, ditches, fire-flies roamed,</span>
<span class="i0">And the green avenues and cypresses</span> <span class="i0">In yonder grove were murmuring to the wind;</span> <span class="i0">While in the house were heard, at intervals,</span>
<span class="i0">The voices of the servants at their work.</span>
<span class="i0">What thoughts immense in me the sight inspired</span>
<span class="i0">Of that far sea, and of the mountains blue,</span>
<span class="i0">That yonder I behold, and which I thought</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page96" id="page96" title="96"></SPAN>One day to cross, mysterious worlds and joys</span>
<span class="i0">Mysterious in the future fancying!</span> <span class="i0">Of my hard fate unconscious, and how oft</span> <span class="i0">This sorrowful and barren life of mine</span> <span class="i0">I willingly would have for death exchanged!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nor did my heart e’er tell me, I should be</span>
<span class="i0">Condemned the flower of my youth to spend</span>
<span class="i0">In this wild native region, and amongst</span>
<span class="i0">A wretched, clownish crew, to whom the names</span>
<span class="i0">Of wisdom, learning, are but empty sounds,</span>
<span class="i0">Or arguments of laughter and of scorn;</span>
<span class="i0">Who hate, avoid me; not from envy, no;</span>
<span class="i0">For they do not esteem me better than</span> <span class="i0">Themselves, but fancy that I, in my heart,</span> <span class="i0">That feeling cherish; though I strive, indeed,</span>
<span class="i0">No token of such feeling to display.</span> <span class="i0">And here I pass my years, abandoned, lost,</span> <span class="i0">Of love deprived, of life; and rendered fierce,</span>
<span class="i0">’Mid such a crowd of evil-minded ones,</span>
<span class="i0">My pity and my courtesy I lose,</span> <span class="i0">And I become a scorner of my race,</span> <span class="i0">By such a herd surrounded; meanwhile, fly</span> <span class="i0">The precious hours of youth, more precious far</span>
<span class="i0">Than fame, or laurel, or the light of day,</span>
<span class="i0">Or breath of life: thus uselessly, without</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page97" id="page97" title="97"></SPAN>One joy, I lose thee, in this rough abode,</span>
<span class="i0">Whose only guests are care and suffering,</span>
<span class="i0">O thou, the only flower of barren life!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The wind now from the tower of the town</span>
<span class="i0">The deep sound of the bell is bringing. Oh,</span>
<span class="i0">What comfort was that sound to me, a child,</span>
<span class="i0">When in my dark and silent room I lay,</span>
<span class="i0">Besieged by terrors, longing for the dawn!</span>
<span class="i0">Whate’er I see or hear, recalls to mind</span>
<span class="i0">Some vivid image, recollection sweet;</span> <span class="i0">Sweet in itself, but O how bitter made</span> <span class="i0">By painful sense of present suffering,</span> <span class="i0">By idle longing for the past, though sad,</span> <span class="i0">And by the still recurring thought, “<i>I was</i>”!</span>
<span class="i0">Yon gallery that looks upon the west;</span> <span class="i0">Those frescoed walls, these painted herds, the sun</span>
<span class="i0">Just rising o’er the solitary plain,</span> <span class="i0">My idle hours with thousand pleasures filled,</span>
<span class="i0">While busy Fancy, at my side, still spread</span>
<span class="i0">Her bright illusions, wheresoe’er I went.</span>
<span class="i0">In these old halls, when gleamed the snow without,</span>
<span class="i0">And round these ample windows howled the wind,</span>
<span class="i0">My sports resounded, and my merry words,</span>
<span class="i0">In those bright days, when all the mysteries</span>
<span class="i0">And miseries of things an aspect wear,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page98" id="page98" title="98"></SPAN>So full of sweetness; when the ardent youth</span>
<span class="i0">Sees in his untried life a world of charms,</span>
<span class="i0">And, like an unexperienced lover, dotes</span>
<span class="i0">On heavenly beauty, creature of his dreams!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O hopes, illusions of my early days!—</span>
<span class="i0">Of you I still must speak, to you return;</span>
<span class="i0">For neither flight of time, nor change of thoughts,</span>
<span class="i0">Or feelings, can efface you from my mind.</span>
<span class="i0">Full well I know that honor and renown</span>
<span class="i0">Are phantoms; pleasures but an idle dream;</span>
<span class="i0">That life, a useless misery, has not</span> <span class="i0">One solid fruit to show; and though my days</span> <span class="i0">Are empty, wearisome, my mortal state</span> <span class="i0">Obscure and desolate, I clearly see</span> <span class="i0">That Fortune robs me but of little. Yet,</span> <span class="i0">Alas! as often as I dwell on you,</span> <span class="i0">Ye
ancient hopes, and youthful fancy’s dreams,</span> <span class="i0">And
then look at the blank reality,</span> <span class="i0">A life of
ennui and of wretchedness;</span> <span class="i0">And think, that
of so vast a fund of hope,</span> <span class="i0">Death is,
to-day, the only relic left,</span> <span class="i0">I feel
oppressed at heart, I feel myself</span> <span class="i0">Of every
comfort utterly bereft.</span> <span class="i0">And when the death,
that I have long invoked,</span> <span class="i0">Shall be at hand,
the end be reached of all</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page99" id="page99" title="99"></SPAN>My
sufferings; when this vale of tears shall be</span> <span class="i0">To
me a stranger, and the future fade,</span> <span class="i0">Fade
from sight forever; even then, shall I</span> <span class="i0">Recall
you; and your images will make</span> <span class="i0">Me sigh; the
thought of having lived in vain,</span> <span class="i0">Will then
intrude, with bitterness to taint</span> <span class="i0">The
sweetness of that day of destiny.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nay, in the first tumultuous days of youth,</span>
<span class="i0">With all its joys, desires, and sufferings,</span>
<span class="i0">I often called on death, and long would sit</span>
<span class="i0">By yonder fountain, longing, in its waves</span>
<span class="i0">To put an end alike to hope and grief.</span>
<span class="i0">And afterwards, by lingering sickness brought</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the borders of the grave, I wept</span> <span class="i0">O’er my lost youth, the flower of my days,</span> <span class="i0">So prematurely fading; often, too,</span> <span class="i0">At late hours sitting on my conscious bed,</span> <span class="i0">Composing, by the dim light of the lamp,</span> <span class="i0">I with the silence and the night would moan</span> <span class="i0">O’er my departing soul, and to myself</span> <span class="i0">In languid tones would sing my funeral-song.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Who can remember you without a sigh,</span> <span class="i0">First entrance into manhood, O ye days</span> <span class="i0">Bewitching, inexpressible, when first</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page100" id="page100" title="100"></SPAN>On
the enchanted mortal smiles the maid,</span> <span class="i0">And
all things round in emulation smile;</span> <span class="i0">And
envy holds its peace, not yet awake,</span> <span class="i0">Or
else in a benignant mood; and when,</span> <span class="i0">—O
marvel rare!—the world a helping hand</span> <span class="i0">To
him extends, his faults excuses, greets</span> <span class="i0">His
entrance into life, with bows and smiles</span> <span class="i0">Acknowledges
his claims to its respect?</span> <span class="i0">O fleeting days!
How like the lightning’s flash,</span> <span class="i0">They
vanish! And what mortal can escape</span> <span class="i0">Unhappiness,
who has already passed</span> <span class="i0">That golden period,
his own <i>good</i> time,</span> <span class="i0">That comes, alas,
so soon to disappear?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And thou, Nerina, does not every spot</span> <span class="i0">Thy memory recall? And couldst thou e’er</span> <span class="i0">Be absent from my thought? Where art thou gone,</span>
<span class="i0">That here I find the memory alone,</span> <span class="i0">Of thee, my sweet one? Thee thy native place</span>
<span class="i0">Beholds no more; that window, whence thou oft</span>
<span class="i0">Wouldst talk with me, which sadly now reflects</span>
<span class="i0">The light of yonder stars, is desolate.</span>
<span class="i0">Where art thou, that I can no longer hear</span>
<span class="i0">Thy gentle voice, as in those days of old,</span>
<span class="i0">When every faintest accent from thy lips</span>
<span class="i0">Was wont to turn me pale? Those days have gone.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page101" id="page101" title="101"></SPAN>They <i>have been</i>, my sweet love! And thou with them</span>
<span class="i0">Hast passed. To others now it is assigned</span>
<span class="i0">To journey to and fro upon the earth,</span> <span class="i0">And others dwell amid these fragrant hills.</span> <span class="i0">How quickly thou hast passed! Thy life was like</span>
<span class="i0">A dream. While dancing there, joy on thy brow</span>
<span class="i0">Resplendent shone, anticipations bright</span>
<span class="i0">Shone in thy eyes, the light of youth, when Fate</span>
<span class="i0">Extinguished them, and thou didst prostrate lie.</span>
<span class="i0">Nerina, in my heart the old love reigns.</span>
<span class="i0">If I at times still go unto some feast,</span>
<span class="i0">Or social gathering, unto myself</span> <span class="i0">I say: “Nerina, thou no more to feast</span> <span class="i0">Dost go, nor for the ball thyself adorn.”</span>
<span class="i0">If May returns, when lovers offerings</span> <span class="i0">Of flowers and of songs to maidens bring,</span> <span class="i0">I say: “Nerina mine, to thee spring ne’er</span>
<span class="i0">Returns, and love no more its tribute brings.”</span>
<span class="i0">Each pleasant day, each flowery field that I</span>
<span class="i0">Behold, each pleasure that I taste, the thought</span>
<span class="i0">Suggest: “Nerina pleasure knows no more,</span>
<span class="i0">The face of heaven and earth no more beholds.”</span>
<span class="i0">Ah, thou hast passed, for whom I ever sigh!</span>
<span class="i0">Hast passed; and still the memory of thee</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page102" id="page102" title="102"></SPAN>Remains, and with each thought and fancy blends</span>
<span class="i0">Each varying emotion of the heart;</span> <span class="i0">And <i>will</i> remain, so bitter, yet so sweet!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> NIGHT SONG OF A WANDERING SHEPHERD IN ASIA. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">What doest thou in heaven, O moon?</span> <span class="i0">Say, silent moon, what doest thou?</span> <span class="i0">Thou risest in the evening; thoughtfully</span> <span class="i0">Thou wanderest o’er the plain,</span> <span class="i0">Then
sinkest to thy rest again.</span> <span class="i0">And art thou
never satisfied</span> <span class="i0">With going o’er and o’er
the selfsame ways?</span> <span class="i0">Art never wearied? Dost
thou still</span> <span class="i0">Upon these valleys love to gaze?</span>
<span class="i0">How much thy life is like</span> <span class="i0">The
shepherd’s life, forlorn!</span> <span class="i0">He rises in the
early dawn,</span> <span class="i0">He moves his flock along the
plain;</span> <span class="i0">The selfsame flocks, and streams,
and herbs</span> <span class="i0">He sees again;</span> <span class="i0">Then drops to rest, the day’s work o’er;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page103" id="page103" title="103"></SPAN>And
hopes for nothing more.</span> <span class="i0">Tell me, O moon,
what signifies his life</span> <span class="i0">To him, thy life to
thee? Say, whither tend</span> <span class="i0">My weary,
short-lived pilgrimage,</span> <span class="i0">Thy course, that
knows no end?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And old man, gray, infirm,</span> <span class="i0">Half-clad,
and barefoot, he,</span> <span class="i0">Beneath his burden
bending wearily,</span> <span class="i0">O’er mountain and o’er
vale,</span> <span class="i0">Sharp rocks, and briars, and burning
sand,</span> <span class="i0">In wind, and storm, alike in sultry
heat</span> <span class="i0">And in the winter’s cold,</span>
<span class="i0">His constant course doth hold;</span> <span class="i0">On, on, he, panting, goes,</span> <span class="i0">Nor
pause, nor rest he knows;</span> <span class="i0">Through rushing
torrents, over watery wastes;</span> <span class="i0">He falls,
gets up again,</span> <span class="i0">And ever more and more he
hastes,</span> <span class="i0">Torn, bleeding, and arrives at last</span>
<span class="i0">Where ends the path,</span> <span class="i0">Where
all his troubles end;</span> <span class="i0">A vast abyss and
horrible,</span> <span class="i0">Where plunging headlong, he
forgets them all.</span> <span class="i0">Such scene of suffering,
and of strife,</span> <span class="i0">O moon, is this our mortal
life.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page104" id="page104" title="104"></SPAN>In travail man is born;</span> <span class="i0">His birth too oft the cause of death,</span> <span class="i0">And with his earliest breath</span> <span class="i0">He
pain and torment feels: e’en from the first,</span> <span class="i0">His
parents fondly strive</span> <span class="i0">To comfort him in his
distress;</span> <span class="i0">And if he lives and grows,</span>
<span class="i0">They struggle hard, as best they may,</span> <span class="i0">With pleasant words and deeds to cheer him up,</span>
<span class="i0">And seek with kindly care,</span> <span class="i0">To
strengthen him his cruel lot to bear.</span> <span class="i0">This
is the best that they can do</span> <span class="i0">For the poor
child, however fond and true.</span> <span class="i0">But wherefore
give him life?</span> <span class="i0">Why bring him up at all,</span>
<span class="i0">If <i>this</i> be all?</span> <span class="i0">If
life is nought but pain and care,</span> <span class="i0">Why, why
should we the burden bear?</span> <span class="i0">O spotless moon,
such <i>is</i></span> <span class="i0">Our mortal life, indeed;</span>
<span class="i0">But thou immortal art,</span> <span class="i0">Nor
wilt, perhaps, unto my words give heed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Yet thou, eternal, lonely wanderer,</span> <span class="i0">Who, thoughtful, lookest on this earthly scene,</span>
<span class="i0">Must surely understand</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page105" id="page105" title="105"></SPAN>What all
our sighs and sufferings mean;</span> <span class="i0">What means
this death,</span> <span class="i0">This color from our cheeks that
fades,</span> <span class="i0">This passing from the earth, and
losing sight</span> <span class="i0">Of every dear, familiar scene.</span>
<span class="i0">Well must thou comprehend</span> <span class="i0">The
reason of these things; must see</span> <span class="i0">The good
the morning and the evening bring:</span> <span class="i0">Thou
knowest, thou, what love it is</span> <span class="i0">That brings
sweet smiles unto the face of spring;</span> <span class="i0">The
meaning of the Summer’s glow,</span> <span class="i0">And of the
Winter’s frost and snow,</span> <span class="i0">And of the silent,
endless flight of Time.</span> <span class="i0">A thousand things
to thee their secrets yield,</span> <span class="i0">That from the
simple shepherd are concealed.</span> <span class="i0">Oft as I
gaze at thee,</span> <span class="i0">In silence resting o’er the
desert plain,</span> <span class="i0">Which in the distance borders
on the sky,</span> <span class="i0">Or following me, as I, by slow
degrees,</span> <span class="i0">My flocks before me drive;</span>
<span class="i0">And when I gaze upon the stars at night,</span>
<span class="i0">In thought I ask myself,</span> <span class="i0">“Why
all these torches bright?</span> <span class="i0">What mean these
depths of air,</span> <span class="i0">This vast, this silent sky,</span>
<span class="i0">This nightly solitude? And what am I?”</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page106" id="page106" title="106"></SPAN>Thus to myself I talk; and of this grand,</span>
<span class="i0">Magnificent expanse,</span> <span class="i0">And
its untold inhabitants,</span> <span class="i0">And all this mighty
motion, and this stir</span> <span class="i0">Of things above, and
things below,</span> <span class="i0">No rest that ever know,</span>
<span class="i0">But as they still revolve, must still return</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the place from which they came,—</span>
<span class="i0">Of this, alas, I find nor end nor aim!</span>
<span class="i0">But thou, immortal, surely knowest all.</span>
<span class="i0"><i>This</i> I well know, and feel;</span> <span class="i0">From these eternal rounds,</span> <span class="i0">And
from my being frail,</span> <span title="Original read 'Others, perhance,'" class="i0">Others, perchance,
may pleasure, profit gain;</span> <span class="i0">To <i>me</i>
life is but pain.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">My flock, now resting there, how happy thou,</span>
<span class="i0">That knowest not, I think, thy misery!</span>
<span class="i0">O how I envy thee!</span> <span class="i0">Not
only that from suffering</span> <span class="i0">Thou seemingly art
free;</span> <span class="i0">That every trouble, every loss,</span>
<span class="i0">Each sudden fear, thou canst so soon forget;</span>
<span class="i0">But more because thou sufferest</span> <span class="i0">No weariness of mind.</span> <span class="i0">When in
the shade, upon the grass reclined,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page107" id="page107" title="107"></SPAN>Thou
seemest happy and content,</span> <span class="i0">And great part
of the year by thee</span> <span class="i0">In sweet release from
care is spent.</span> <span class="i0">But when <i>I</i> sit upon
the grass</span> <span class="i0">And in the friendly shade, upon
my mind</span> <span class="i0">A weight I feel, a sense of
weariness,</span> <span class="i0">That, as I sit, doth still
increase</span> <span class="i0">And rob me of all rest and peace.</span>
<span class="i0">And yet I wish for nought,</span> <span class="i0">And
have, till now, no reason to complain.</span> <span class="i0">What
joy, how much I cannot say;</span> <span class="i0">But thou <i>some</i>
pleasure dost obtain.</span> <span class="i0">My joys are few
enough;</span> <span class="i0">But not for that do I lament.</span>
<span class="i0">Ah, couldst thou speak, I would inquire:</span>
<span class="i0">Tell me, dear flock, the reason why</span> <span class="i0">Each weary breast can rest at ease,</span> <span class="i0">While all things round him seem to please;</span> <span class="i0">And yet, if <i>I</i> lie down to rest,</span> <span class="i0">I am by anxious thoughts oppressed?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Perhaps, if I had wings</span> <span class="i0">Above
the clouds to fly,</span> <span class="i0">And could the stars all
number, one by one,</span> <span class="i0">Or like the lightning
leap from rock to rock,</span> <span class="i0">I might be happier,
my dear flock,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page108" id="page108" title="108"></SPAN>I might be happier, gentle
moon!</span> <span class="i0">Perhaps my thought still wanders from
the truth,</span> <span class="i0">When I at others’ fortunes look:</span>
<span class="i0">Perhaps in every state beneath the sun,</span>
<span class="i0">Or high, or low, in cradle or in stall,</span>
<span class="i0">The day of birth is fatal to us all.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> CALM AFTER STORM. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">The storm hath passed;</span> <span class="i0">I
hear the birds rejoice; the hen,</span> <span class="i0">Returned
into the road again,</span> <span class="i0">Her cheerful notes
repeats. The sky serene</span> <span class="i0">Is, in the west,
upon the mountain seen:</span> <span class="i0">The country smiles;
bright runs the silver stream.</span> <span class="i0">Each heart
is cheered; on every side revive</span> <span class="i0">The
sounds, the labors of the busy hive.</span> <span class="i0">The
workman gazes at the watery sky,</span> <span class="i0">As
standing at the door he sings,</span> <span class="i0">His work in
hand; the little wife goes forth,</span> <span class="i0">And in
her pail the gathered rain-drops brings;</span> <span class="i0">The
vendor of his wares, from lane to lane,</span> <span class="i0">Begins
his daily cry again.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page109" id="page109" title="109"></SPAN>The sun returns, and with
his smile illumes</span> <span class="i0">The villas on the
neighboring hills;</span> <span class="i0">Through open terraces
and balconies,</span> <span class="i0">The genial light pervades
the cheerful rooms;</span> <span class="i0">And, on the highway,
from afar are heard</span> <span class="i0">The tinkling of the
bells, the creaking wheels</span> <span class="i0">Of waggoner, his
journey who resumes.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Cheered is each heart.</span> <span class="i0">Whene’er,
as now, doth life appear</span> <span class="i0">A thing so
pleasant and so dear?</span> <span class="i0">When, with such love,</span>
<span class="i0">Does man unto his books or work return?</span>
<span class="i0">Or on himself new tasks impose?</span> <span class="i0">When is he less regardful of his woes?</span> <span class="i0">O pleasure, born of pain!</span> <span class="i0">O idle
joy, and vain,</span> <span class="i0">Fruit of the fear just
passed, which shook</span> <span class="i0">The wretch who life
abhorred, yet dreaded death!</span> <span class="i0">With which
each neighbor held his breath,</span> <span class="i0">Silent, and
cold, and wan,</span> <span class="i0">Affrighted sore to see</span>
<span class="i0">The lightnings, clouds, and winds arrayed,</span>
<span class="i0">To do us injury!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O Nature courteous!</span> <span class="i0">These
are thy boons to us,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page110" id="page110" title="110"></SPAN>These the delights to
mortals given!</span> <span class="i0">Escape from pain, best gift
of heaven!</span> <span class="i0">Thou scatterest sorrows with a
bounteous hand;</span> <span class="i0">Grief springs spontaneous;</span>
<span class="i0">If, by some monstrous growth, miraculous,</span>
<span class="i0">Pleasure at times is born of pain,</span> <span class="i0">It is a precious gain!</span> <span class="i0">O human
race, unto the gods so dear!</span> <span class="i0">Too happy, in
a respite brief</span> <span class="i0">From any grief!</span>
<span class="i0">Then only blessed,</span> <span class="i0">When
Death releases thee unto thy rest!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE VILLAGE SATURDAY NIGHT. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">The damsel from the field returns,</span> <span class="i0">The sun is sinking in the west;</span> <span class="i0">Her
bundle on her head she sets,</span> <span class="i0">And in her
hand she bears</span> <span class="i0">A bunch of roses and of
violets.</span> <span class="i0">To-morrow is a holiday,</span>
<span class="i0">And she, as usual, must them wear</span> <span class="i0">Upon her bodice, in her hair.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page111" id="page111" title="111"></SPAN>The old
crone sits among her mates,</span> <span class="i0">Upon the
stairs, and spins;</span> <span class="i0">And, looking at the
fading light,</span> <span class="i0">Of good old-fashioned times
she prates,</span> <span class="i0">When she, too, dressed for
holidays,</span> <span class="i0">And with light heart, and limb as
light,</span> <span class="i0">Would dance at night</span>
<span class="i0">With the companions of her merry days.</span>
<span class="i0">The twilight shades around us close,</span> <span class="i0">The sky to deepest blue is turned;</span> <span class="i0">From hills and roofs the shadows fall,</span> <span class="i0">And the new moon her face of silver shows.</span> <span class="i0">And now the cheerful bell</span> <span class="i0">Proclaims
the coming festival.</span> <span class="i0">By its familiar voice</span>
<span class="i0">How every heart is cheered!</span> <span class="i0">The
children all in troops,</span> <span class="i0">Around the little
square</span> <span class="i0">Go, leaping here and there,</span>
<span class="i0">And make a joyful sound.</span> <span class="i0">Meanwhile
the ploughman, whistling, returns</span> <span class="i0">Unto his
humble nest,</span> <span class="i0">And thinks with pleasure of
his day of rest.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Then, when all other lights are out,</span> <span class="i0">And all is silent round,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page112" id="page112" title="112"></SPAN>The
hammer’s stroke we hear,</span> <span class="i0">We hear the saw of
carpenter,</span> <span class="i0">Who with closed doors his vigil
keeps,</span> <span class="i0">Toils o’er his lamp and strives so
hard,</span> <span class="i0">His work to finish ere the dawn
appear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The dearest day of all the week</span> <span class="i0">Is this, of hope and joy so full;</span> <span class="i0">To-morrow,
sad and dull,</span> <span class="i0">The hours will bring, for
each must in his thought</span> <span class="i0">His customary
task-work seek.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou little, sportive boy,</span> <span class="i0">This
blooming age of thine</span> <span class="i0">Is like to-day, so
full of joy;</span> <span class="i0">And is the day, indeed,</span>
<span class="i0">That must the sabbath of thy life precede.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Enjoy, it, then, my darling child,</span> <span class="i0">Nor speed the flying hours!</span> <span class="i0">I
say to thee no more:</span> <span class="i0">Alas, in this sad
world of ours,</span> <span class="i0">How far exceeds the holiday,</span>
<span class="i0">The day that goes before!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page113" id="page113" title="113"></SPAN>THE RULING THOUGHT. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Most sweet, most powerful,</span> <span class="i0">Controller
of my inmost soul;</span> <span class="i0">The terrible, yet
precious gift</span> <span class="i0">Of heaven, companion kind</span>
<span class="i0">Of all my days of misery,</span> <span class="i0">O
thought, that ever dost recur to me;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Of thy mysterious power</span> <span class="i0">Who
speaketh not? Who hath not felt</span> <span class="i0">Its subtle
influence?</span> <span class="i0">Yet, when one is by feeling deep
impelled</span> <span class="i0">Its secret joys and sorrows to
unfold,</span> <span class="i0">The theme seems ever new however
old.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How isolated is my mind,</span> <span class="i0">Since
thou in it hast come to dwell!</span> <span class="i0">As by some
magic spell,</span> <span class="i0">My other thoughts have all,</span>
<span class="i0">Like lightning, disappeared;</span> <span class="i0">And thou, alone, like some huge tower,</span> <span class="i0">In a deserted plain,</span> <span class="i0">Gigantic,
solitary, dost remain.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page114" id="page114" title="114"></SPAN>How worthless quite,</span> <span class="i0">Save
but for thee, have in my sight</span> <span class="i0">All earthly
things, and life itself become!</span> <span class="i0">How
wearisome its days;</span> <span class="i0">And all its works, and
all its plays,</span> <span class="i0">A vain pursuit of pleasures
vain,</span> <span class="i0">Compared with the felicity,</span>
<span class="i0">The heavenly joy, that springs from thee!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">As from the naked rocks</span> <span class="i0">Of
the rough Apennine,</span> <span class="i0">The weary pilgrim turns
his longing eyes</span> <span class="i0">To the bright plain that
in the distance lies;</span> <span class="i0">So from the rough and
barren intercourse</span> <span class="i0">Of worldly men, to thee
I gladly turn,</span> <span class="i0">As to a Paradise, my weary
mind,</span> <span class="i0">And sweet refreshment for my senses
find.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">It seems to me incredible, that I</span> <span class="i0">This dreary world, this wretched life,</span> <span class="i0">So full of folly and of strife,</span> <span class="i0">Without
thy aid, could have so long endured;</span> <span class="i0">Nor
can I well conceive,</span> <span class="i0">How one’s desires <i>could</i>
cling</span> <span class="i0">To other joys than those which thou
dost bring.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page115" id="page115" title="115"></SPAN>Never, since first I knew</span> <span class="i0">By
hard experience what life is,</span> <span class="i0">Could fear of
death my soul subdue.</span> <span class="i0">To-day, a jest to me
appears,</span> <span class="i0">That which the silly world,</span>
<span class="i0">Praising at times, yet ever hates and fears,</span>
<span class="i0">The last extremity!</span> <span class="i0">If
danger comes, I, with undaunted mien,</span> <span class="i0">Its
threats encounter with a smile serene.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">I always hated coward souls,</span> <span class="i0">And meanness held in scorn.</span> <span class="i0"><i>Now</i>,
each unworthy act</span> <span class="i0">At once through all my
senses thrills;</span> <span class="i0">Each instance vile of human
worthlessness,</span> <span class="i0">My soul with holy anger
fills.</span> <span class="i0">This arrogant, this foolish age,</span>
<span class="i0">Which feeds itself on empty hopes,</span> <span class="i0">Absorbed in trifles, virtue’s enemy,</span> <span class="i0">Which idly clamors for utility,</span> <span class="i0">And
has not sense enough to see</span> <span class="i0">How <i>useless</i>
all life thenceforth must become,</span> <span class="i0">I feel <i>beneath</i>
me, and its judgments laugh</span> <span class="i0">To scorn. The
motley crew,</span> <span class="i0">The foes of every lofty
thought,</span> <span class="i0">Who laugh at <i>thee</i>, I
trample under foot.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page116" id="page116" title="116"></SPAN>To that, which thee inspires,</span> <span class="i0">What passion yieldeth not?</span> <span class="i0">What
other, save this one,</span> <span class="i0">Controls our hearts’
desires?</span> <span class="i0">Ambition, avarice, disdain, and
hate,</span> <span class="i0">The love of power, love of fame,</span>
<span class="i0">What are they but an empty name,</span> <span class="i0">Compared with it? And this,</span> <span class="i0">The
source, the spring of all,</span> <span class="i0">That sovereign
reigns within the breast,</span> <span class="i0">Eternal laws have
on our hearts impressed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Life hath no value, meaning hath,</span> <span class="i0">Save but for thee, our only hope and stay;</span> <span class="i0">The sole excuse for Fate,</span> <span class="i0">That
cruelly hath placed us here,</span> <span class="i0">To undergo
such useless misery;</span> <span class="i0">For thee alone, the
wise man, not the fool,</span> <span class="i0">To life still
fondly clings,</span> <span class="i0">Nor calls on death to end
his sufferings.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thy joys to gather, thou sweet thought,</span>
<span class="i0">Long years of sorrow I endure,</span> <span class="i0">And bear of weary life the strain;</span> <span class="i0">But not in vain!</span> <span class="i0">And I would
still return,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page117" id="page117" title="117"></SPAN>In spite of all my sad
experience,</span> <span class="i0">Towards such a goal, my course
to recommence;</span> <span class="i0">For through the sands, and
through the viper-brood</span> <span class="i0">Of this, our mortal
wilderness,</span> <span class="i0">My steps I ne’er so wearily
have dragged</span> <span class="i0">To thee, that all the danger
and distress</span> <span class="i0">Were not repaid by such pure
happiness.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O what a world, what new immensity,</span> <span class="i0">What paradise is that,</span> <span class="i0">To which,
so oft, by thy stupendous charm</span> <span class="i0">Impelled, I
seem to soar! Where I</span> <span class="i0">Beneath a brighter
light am wandering,</span> <span class="i0">And my poor earthly
state,</span> <span class="i0">And all life’s bitter truths forget!</span>
<span class="i0">Such are, I ween, the dreams</span> <span class="i0">Of the Immortals. Ah, what <i>but</i> a dream,</span>
<span class="i0">Art thou, sweet thought,</span> <span class="i0">The
truth, that thus embellished?</span> <span class="i0">A dream, an
error manifest!</span> <span class="i0">But of a nature, still
divine,</span> <span class="i0">An error brave and strong,</span>
<span class="i0">That will with truth the fight prolong,</span>
<span class="i0">And oft for truth doth compensate;</span> <span class="i0">Nor leave us e’er, till summoned hence by Fate.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page118" id="page118" title="118"></SPAN>And surely thou, my thought,</span> <span class="i0">Thou
sole sustainer of my days,</span> <span class="i0">The cause
beloved of sorrows infinite,</span> <span class="i0">In Death alone
wilt be extinguished quite;</span> <span class="i0">For by sure
signs within my soul I feel</span> <span class="i0">Thy sovereign
sway, perpetual.</span> <span class="i0">All other fancies sweet</span>
<span class="i0">The aspect of the truth</span> <span class="i0">Hath
weakened ever. But whene’er I turn</span> <span class="i0">To gaze
again on her, of whom with thee</span> <span class="i0">To speak,
is all I live for, ah,</span> <span class="i0">That great delight
increases still,</span> <span class="i0">That frenzy fine, the
breath of life, to me!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Angelic beauty! Every lovely face,</span> <span class="i0">On which I gaze,</span> <span class="i0">A phantom seems
to me,</span> <span class="i0">That vainly strives to copy thee,</span>
<span class="i0">Of all the graces that our souls inthral,</span>
<span class="i0">Sole fount, divine original!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Since first I thee beheld,</span> <span class="i0">Of
what most anxious care of mine,</span> <span class="i0">Hast thou
not been the end and aim?</span> <span class="i0">What day has ever
passed, what hour,</span> <span class="i0">When I thought not of
thee? What dream of mine</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page119" id="page119" title="119"></SPAN>Has not
been haunted by thy face divine?</span> <span class="i0">Angelic
countenance, that we</span> <span class="i0">In dreams, alas, alone
may see,</span> <span class="i0">What else on earth, what in the
universe,</span> <span class="i0">Do I e’er ask, or hope for, more,</span>
<span class="i0">Than those dear eyes forever to behold?</span>
<span class="i0">Than thy sweet thought still in my heart to hold?</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> LOVE AND DEATH. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Children of Fate, in the same breath</span> <span class="i0">Created were they, Love and Death.</span> <span class="i0">Such fair creations ne’er were seen,</span> <span class="i0">Or here below, or in the heaven serene.</span> <span class="i0">The first, the source of happiness,</span> <span class="i0">The fount whence flows the greatest bliss</span> <span class="i0">That in the sea of being e’er is found;</span> <span class="i0">The last each sorrow gently lulls,</span> <span class="i0">Each harsh decree of Fate annuls.</span> <span class="i0">Fair
child with beauty crowned,</span> <span class="i0">Sweet to behold,
not such</span> <span class="i0">As cowards paint her in their
fright,</span> <span class="i0">She in young Love’s companionship</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page120" id="page120" title="120"></SPAN>Doth often take delight,</span> <span class="i0">As
they o’er mortal paths together fly,</span> <span class="i0">Chief
comforters of every loyal heart.</span> <span class="i0">Nor ever
is the heart more wise</span> <span class="i0">Than when Love
smites it, nor defies</span> <span class="i0">More scornfully
life’s misery,</span> <span class="i0">And for no other lord</span>
<span class="i0">Will it all dangers face so readily.</span> <span class="i0">When thou thy aid dost lend,</span> <span class="i0">O
Love, is courage born, or it revives;</span> <span class="i0">And
wise in deeds the race of man becomes,</span> <span class="i0">And
not, as it is prone,</span> <span class="i0">In fruitless thought
alone.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And when first in our being’s depth</span> <span class="i0">This passion deep is born,</span> <span class="i0">Though
happy, we are still forlorn;</span> <span class="i0">A languor
strange doth o’er us steal;</span> <span class="i0">A strange
desire of death we feel.</span> <span class="i0">I know not why,
but such we ever prove</span> <span class="i0">The first effect of
true and potent love.</span> <span class="i0">It may be, that this
wilderness</span> <span class="i0">Then first appals our sight;</span>
<span class="i0">And earth henceforth to us a dreary waste</span>
<span class="i0">Appears, without that new, supreme delight,</span>
<span class="i0">That in our thought is fondly traced;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page121" id="page121" title="121"></SPAN>And
yet our hearts, foreboding, feel the storm</span> <span class="i0">Within,
that it may cause, the misery.</span> <span class="i0">We long for
rest, we long to flee,</span> <span class="i0">Hoping some friendly
haven may be found</span> <span class="i0">Of refuge from the
fierce desire,</span> <span class="i0">That raging, roaring,
darkens all around.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And when this formidable power</span> <span class="i0">Hath his whole soul possessed,</span> <span class="i0">And
raging care will give his heart no rest,</span> <span class="i0">How
many times implored</span> <span class="i0">With most intense
desire,</span> <span class="i0">Art thou, O Death, by the poor
wretch, forlorn!</span> <span class="i0">How oft at eve, how oft at
dawn,</span> <span class="i0">His weary frame upon the couch he
throws,</span> <span class="i0">Too happy, if he never rose,</span>
<span class="i0">In hopeless conflict with his pain,</span> <span class="i0">Nor e’er beheld the bitter light again!</span> <span class="i0">And oft, at sound of funeral bell,</span> <span class="i0">And solemn chant, that guides</span> <span class="i0">Departed
souls unto eternal rest,</span> <span class="i0">With sighs most
ardent from his inmost breast,</span> <span class="i0">How hath he
envied him,</span> <span class="i0">Who with the dead has gone to
dwell!</span> <span class="i0">The very humblest of his kind,</span>
<span class="i0">The simple, rustic hind, who knows</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page122" id="page122" title="122"></SPAN>No
charm that knowledge gives;</span> <span class="i0">The lowliest
country lass that lives,</span> <span class="i0">Who, at the very
thought of death,</span> <span class="i0">Doth feel her hair in
horror rise,</span> <span class="i0">Will calmly face its agonies,</span>
<span class="i0">Upon the terrors of the tomb will gaze</span>
<span class="i0">With fixed, undaunted look,</span> <span class="i0">Will
o’er the steel and poison brood,</span> <span class="i0">In
meditative mood,</span> <span class="i0">And in her narrow mind,</span>
<span class="i0">The kindly charm of dying comprehend:</span> <span class="i0">So much the discipline of Love</span> <span class="i0">Hath
unto Death all hearts inclined!</span> <span class="i0">Full often
when this inward woe</span> <span class="i0">Such pass has reached
as mortal strength</span> <span class="i0">No longer can endure,</span>
<span class="i0">The feeble body yields at length,</span> <span class="i0">To its fierce blows, and timely, then,</span> <span class="i0">Benignant Death her friendly power doth show:</span>
<span class="i0">Or else Love drives her hapless victims so,</span>
<span class="i0">Alike the simple clown,</span> <span class="i0">And
tender country lass,</span> <span class="i0">That on themselves
their desperate hands they lay,</span> <span class="i0">And so are
borne unto the shades below.</span> <span class="i0">The world but
laughs at their distress,</span> <span class="i0">Whom heaven with
peace and length of days doth bless.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page123" id="page123" title="123"></SPAN>To fervid,
happy, restless souls</span> <span class="i0">May fate the one or
other still concede,</span> <span class="i0">Sweet sovereigns,
friendly to our race,</span> <span class="i0">Whose power,
throughout the universe,</span> <span class="i0">Such miracles hath
wrought,</span> <span class="i0">As naught resembles, nor can
aught,</span> <span class="i0">Save that of Fate itself, exceed.</span>
<span class="i0">And thou, whom from my earliest years,</span>
<span class="i0">Still honored I invoke,</span> <span class="i0">O
lovely Death! the only friend</span> <span class="i0">Of sufferers
in this vale of tears,</span> <span class="i0">If I have ever
sought</span> <span class="i0">Thy princely state to vindicate</span>
<span class="i0">From the affronts of the ungrateful crowd,</span>
<span class="i0">Do not delay, incline thy ear</span> <span class="i0">Unto thy weary suppliant here!</span> <span class="i0">These
sad eyes close forever to the light,</span> <span class="i0">And
let me rest in peace serene,</span> <span class="i0">O thou, of all
the ages Queen!</span> <span class="i0">Me surely wilt thou find,
whate’er the hour,</span> <span class="i0">When thou thy wings
unfoldest to my prayer,</span> <span class="i0">With front erect,
the cruel power</span> <span class="i0">Defying still, of Fate;</span>
<span class="i0">Nor will I praise, in fulsome mood,</span> <span class="i0">The scourging hand, that with my blood,</span> <span class="i0">The blood of innocence, is stained.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page124" id="page124" title="124"></SPAN>Nor
bless it, as the human race</span> <span class="i0">Is wont,
through custom old and base:</span> <span class="i0">Each empty
hope, with which the world</span> <span class="i0">Itself and
children would beguile,</span> <span class="i0">I’ll cast aside,
each comfort false and vile;</span> <span class="i0">In thee alone
my hope I’ll place,</span> <span class="i0">Thou welcome minister
of grace!</span> <span class="i0">In that sole thought supremely
blest,</span> <span class="i0">That day, when my unconscious head</span>
<span class="i0">May on thy virgin bosom rest.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> TO HIMSELF. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Nor wilt thou rest forever, weary heart.</span>
<span class="i0">The last illusion is destroyed,</span> <span class="i0">That I eternal thought. Destroyed!</span> <span class="i0">I feel all hope and all desire depart,</span> <span class="i0">For life and its deceitful joys.</span> <span class="i0">Forever
rest! Enough! Thy throbbings cease!</span> <span class="i0">Naught
can requite thy miseries;</span> <span class="i0">Nor is earth
worthy of thy sighs.</span> <span class="i0">Life is a bitter,
weary load,</span> <span class="i0">The world a slough. And now,
repose!</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page125" id="page125" title="125"></SPAN>Despair no more, but find in Death</span>
<span class="i0">The only boon Fate on our race bestows!</span>
<span class="i0">Still, Nature, art thou doomed to fall,</span>
<span class="i0">The victim scorned of that blind, brutal power</span>
<span class="i0">That rules and ruins all.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> ASPASIA. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">At times thy image to my mind returns,</span>
<span class="i0">Aspasia. In the crowded streets it gleams</span>
<span class="i0">Upon me, for an instant, as I pass,</span> <span class="i0">In other faces; or in lonely fields,</span> <span class="i0">At noon-tide bright, beneath the silent stars,</span>
<span class="i0">With sudden and with startling vividness,</span>
<span class="i0">As if awakened by sweet harmony,</span> <span class="i0">The splendid vision rises in my soul.</span> <span class="i0">How worshipped once, ye gods, what a delight</span>
<span class="i0">To me, what torture, too! Nor do I e’er</span>
<span class="i0">The odor of the flowery fields inhale,</span>
<span class="i0">Or perfume of the gardens of the town,</span>
<span class="i0">That I recall thee not, as on that day,</span>
<span class="i0">When in thy sumptuous rooms, so redolent</span>
<span class="i0">Of all the fragrant flowers of the spring,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page126" id="page126" title="126"></SPAN>Arrayed in robe of violet hue, thy form</span>
<span class="i0">Angelic I beheld, as it reclined</span> <span class="i0">On dainty cushions languidly, and by</span> <span class="i0">An atmosphere voluptuous surrounded;</span> <span class="i0">When thou, a skilful Syren, didst imprint</span> <span class="i0">Upon thy children’s round and rosy lips</span> <span class="i0">Resounding, fervent kisses, stretching forth</span>
<span class="i0">Thy neck of snow, and with thy lovely hand,</span>
<span class="i0">The little, unsuspecting innocents</span> <span class="i0">Didst to thy hidden, tempting bosom press.</span> <span class="i0">The earth, the heavens transfigured seemed to me,</span>
<span class="i0">A ray divine to penetrate my soul.</span> <span class="i0">Then in my side, not unprotected quite,</span> <span class="i0">Deep driven by thy hand, the shaft I bore,</span> <span class="i0">Lamenting sore; and not to be removed,</span> <span class="i0">Till twice the sun his annual round had made.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">A ray divine, O lady! to my thought</span> <span class="i0">Thy beauty seemed. A like effect is oft</span> <span class="i0">By beauty caused, and harmony, that seem</span> <span class="i0">The mystery of Elysium to reveal.</span> <span class="i0">The
stricken mortal fondly worships, then,</span> <span class="i0">His
own ideal, creature of his mind,</span> <span class="i0">Which of
his heaven the greater part contains.</span> <span class="i0">Alike
in looks, in manners, and in speech,</span> <span class="i0">The
real and ideal seem to him,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page127" id="page127" title="127"></SPAN>In his
confused and passion-guided soul.</span> <span class="i0">But not
the woman, but the dream it is,</span> <span class="i0">That in his
fond caresses, he adores.</span> <span class="i0">At last his error
finding, and the sad exchange,</span> <span class="i0">He is
enraged, and most unjustly, oft,</span> <span class="i0">The woman
chides. For rarely does the mind</span> <span class="i0">Of woman
to that high ideal rise;</span> <span class="i0">And that which her
own beauty oft inspires</span> <span class="i0">In generous lovers,
she imagines not,</span> <span class="i0">Nor could she comprehend.
Those narrow brows,</span> <span class="i0">Cannot such great
conceptions hold. The man,</span> <span class="i0">Deceived, builds
false hopes on those lustrous eyes,</span> <span class="i0">And
feelings deep, ineffable, nay, more</span> <span class="i0">Than
manly, vainly seeks in her, who is</span> <span class="i0">By
nature so inferior to man.</span> <span class="i0">For as her limbs
more soft and slender are,</span> <span class="i0">So is her mind
less capable and strong.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Nor hast thou ever known, Aspasia,</span> <span class="i0">Or couldst thou comprehend the thoughts that once</span>
<span class="i0">Thou didst inspire in me. Thou knowest not</span>
<span class="i0">What boundless love, what sufferings intense,</span>
<span class="i0">What ravings wild, what savage impulses,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou didst arouse in me; nor will the time</span>
<span class="i0">E’er come when thou could’st understand them. So,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page128" id="page128" title="128"></SPAN>Musicians, too, are often ignorant</span> <span class="i0">Of the effects they with the hand and voice</span> <span class="i0">Produce on him that listens. Dead is <i>that</i></span>
<span class="i0">Aspasia, that I so loved, aye, dead</span> <span class="i0">Forever, who was once sole object of</span> <span class="i0">My life; save as a phantom, ever dear,</span> <span class="i0">That comes from time to time, and disappears.</span>
<span class="i0">Thou livest still, not only beautiful,</span>
<span class="i0">But in thy beauty still surpassing all;</span>
<span class="i0">But oh, the flame thou didst enkindle once,</span>
<span class="i0">Long since has been extinguished; <i>thee</i>, indeed,</span>
<span class="i0">I never loved, but that Divinity,</span> <span class="i0">Once living, buried now within my heart.</span> <span class="i0">Her, long time, I adored; and was so pleased</span>
<span class="i0">With her celestial beauty, that, although</span>
<span class="i0">I from the first thy nature knew full well,</span>
<span class="i0">And all thy artful and coquettish ways,</span>
<span class="i0">Yet <i>her</i> fair eyes beholding still in <i>thine</i>,</span>
<span class="i0">I followed thee, delighted, while she lived;</span>
<span class="i0">Deceived? Ah, no! But by the pleasure led,</span>
<span class="i0">Of that sweet likeness, that allured me so,</span>
<span class="i0">A long and heavy servitude to bear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Now boast; thou can’st! Say, that to thee alone</span>
<span class="i0">Of all thy sex, my haughty head I bowed,</span>
<span class="i0">To thee alone, of my unconquered heart</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page129" id="page129" title="129"></SPAN>An offering made. Say, that thou wast the first—</span>
<span class="i0">And surely wast the last—that in my eye</span>
<span class="i0">A suppliant look beheld, and me before</span>
<span class="i0">Thee stand, timid and trembling (how I blush,</span>
<span class="i0">In saying it, with anger and with shame),</span>
<span class="i0">Of my own self deprived, thy every wish,</span>
<span class="i0">Thy every word submissively observing,</span>
<span class="i0">At every proud caprice becoming pale,</span> <span class="i0">At every sign of favor brightening,</span> <span class="i0">And changing color at each look of thine.</span> <span class="i0">The charm is over, and, with it, the yoke</span> <span class="i0">Lies broken, scattered on the ground; and I</span> <span class="i0">Rejoice. ’Tis true my days are laden with</span> <span class="i0">Ennui; yet after such long servitude,</span> <span class="i0">And such infatuation, I am glad</span> <span class="i0">My
judgment, freedom to resume. For though</span> <span class="i0">A
life bereft of love’s illusions sweet,</span> <span class="i0">Is
like a starless night, in winter’s midst,</span> <span class="i0">Yet
some revenge, some comfort can I find</span> <span class="i0">For
my hard fate, that here upon the grass,</span> <span class="i0">Outstretched
in indolence I lie, and gaze</span> <span class="i0">Upon the earth
and sea and sky, and smile.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page130" id="page130" title="130"></SPAN>ON AN OLD SEPULCHRAL BAS-RELIEF.<small>WHERE IS SEEN A YOUNG MAIDEN, DEAD, IN THE ACT OF DEPARTING, TAKING LEAVE OF HER FAMILY.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Where goest thou? Who calls</span> <span class="i0">Thee
from my dear ones far away?</span> <span class="i0">Most lovely
maiden, say!</span> <span class="i0">Alone, a wanderer, dost thou
leave</span> <span class="i0">Thy father’s roof so soon?</span>
<span class="i0">Wilt thou unto its threshold e’er return?</span>
<span class="i0">Wilt thou make glad one day,</span> <span class="i0">Those, who now round thee, weeping, mourn?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Fearless thine eye, and spirited thy act;</span>
<span class="i0">And yet thou, too, art sad.</span> <span class="i0">If
pleasant or unpleasant be the road,</span> <span class="i0">If gay
or gloomy be the new abode,</span> <span class="i0">To which thou
journeyest, indeed,</span> <span class="i0">In that grave face, how
difficult to read!</span> <span class="i0">Ah, hard to me the
problem still hath seemed;</span> <span class="i0">Not hath the
world, perhaps, yet understood,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page131" id="page131" title="131"></SPAN>If thou
beloved, or hated by the gods,</span> <span class="i0">If happy, or
unhappy shouldst be deemed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Death calls thee; in thy morn of life,</span>
<span class="i0">Its latest breath. Unto the nest</span> <span class="i0">Thou leavest, thou wilt ne’er return; wilt ne’er</span>
<span class="i0">The faces of thy kindred more behold;</span> <span class="i0">And under ground,</span> <span class="i0">The place to
which thou goest will be found;</span> <span class="i0">And for all
time will be thy sojourn there.</span> <span class="i0">Happy,
perhaps, thou art: but he must sigh</span> <span class="i0">Who,
thoughtful, contemplates thy destiny.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Ne’er to have seen the light, e’en at the time,</span>
<span class="i0">I think; but, born, e’en at the time,</span> <span class="i0">When regal beauty all her charms displays,</span> <span class="i0">Alike in form and face,</span> <span class="i0">And at
her feet the admiring world</span> <span class="i0">Its distant
homage pays;</span> <span class="i0">When every hope is in its
flower,</span> <span class="i0">Long, long ere dreary winter flash</span>
<span class="i0">His baleful gleams against the joyous brow;</span>
<span class="i0">Like vapor gathered in the summer cloud,</span>
<span class="i0">That melting in the evening sky is seen</span>
<span class="i0">To disappear, as if one ne’er had been;</span>
<span class="i0">And to exchange the brilliant days to come,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page132" id="page132" title="132"></SPAN>For the dark silence of the tomb;</span> <span class="i0">The intellect, indeed,</span> <span class="i0">May call
this, happiness; but still</span> <span class="i0">It may the
stoutest breasts with pity fill.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Thou mother, dreaded and deplored</span> <span class="i0">From birth, by all the world that lives,</span> <span class="i0">Nature, ungracious miracle,</span> <span class="i0">That
bringest forth and nourishest, to kill,</span> <span class="i0">If
death untimely be an evil thing,</span> <span class="i0">Why on
these innocent heads</span> <span class="i0">Wilt thou that evil
bring?</span> <span class="i0">If good, why, why,</span> <span class="i0">Beyond all other misery,</span> <span class="i0">To him
who goes, to him who must remain,</span> <span class="i0">Hast thou
such parting crowned with hopeless pain?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Wretched, where’er we look,</span> <span class="i0">Whichever
way we turn,</span> <span class="i0">Thy suffering children are!</span>
<span class="i0">Thee it hath pleased, that youthful hope</span>
<span class="i0">Should ever be by life beguiled;</span> <span class="i0">The current of our years with woes be filled,</span>
<span class="i0">And death against all ills the only shield:</span>
<span class="i0">And this inevitable seal,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page133" id="page133" title="133"></SPAN>And this
immutable decree,</span> <span class="i0">Hast thou assigned to
human destiny,</span> <span class="i0">Why, after such a painful
race,</span> <span class="i0">Should not the goal, at least,</span>
<span class="i0">Present to us a cheerful face?</span> <span class="i0">Why that, which we in constant view,</span> <span class="i0">Must, while we live, forever bear,</span> <span class="i0">Sole comfort in our hour of need,</span> <span class="i0">Thus
dress in weeds of woe,</span> <span class="i0">And gird with
shadows so,</span> <span class="i0">And make the friendly port to
us appear</span> <span class="i0">More frightful than the tempest
drear?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">If death, indeed, be a calamity,</span> <span class="i0">Which thou intendest for us all,</span> <span class="i0">Whom
thou, against our knowledge and our will,</span> <span class="i0">Hast
forced to draw this mortal breath,</span> <span class="i0">Then,
surely, he who dies,</span> <span class="i0">A lot more enviable
hath</span> <span class="i0">Then he who feels his loved one’s
death.</span> <span class="i0">But, if the truth it be,</span>
<span class="i0">As I most firmly think,</span> <span class="i0">That
life is the calamity,</span> <span class="i0">And death the boon,
alas! who ever <i>could</i>,</span> <span class="i0">What yet he <i>should</i>,</span>
<span class="i0">Desire the dying day of those so dear,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page134" id="page134" title="134"></SPAN>That he may linger here,</span> <span class="i0">Of
his best self deprived,</span> <span class="i0">May see across his
threshold borne,</span> <span class="i0">The form beloved of her,</span>
<span class="i0">With whom so many years he lived,</span> <span class="i0">And say to her farewell,</span> <span class="i0">Without
the hope of meeting here again;</span> <span class="i0">And then
alone on earth to dwell,</span> <span class="i0">And, looking
round, the hours and places all,</span> <span class="i0">Of lost
companionship recall?</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Ah, Nature! how, how <i>couldst</i> thou have the
heart,</span> <span class="i0">From the friend’s arms the friend to
tear,</span> <span class="i0">The brother from the brother part,</span>
<span class="i0">The father from the child,</span> <span class="i0">The
lover from his love,</span> <span class="i0">And, killing one, the
other keep alive?</span> <span class="i0">What dire necessity</span>
<span class="i0">Compels such misery</span> <span class="i0">That
lover should the loved one e’er survive?</span> <span class="i0">But
Nature in her cruel dealings still,</span> <span class="i0">Pays
little heed unto our good or ill.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page135" id="page135" title="135"></SPAN>ON THE PORTRAIT OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, CARVED ON HER MONUMENT. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Such <i>wast</i> thou: now in earth below,</span>
<span class="i0">Dust and a skeleton thou art.</span> <span class="i0">Above thy bones and clay,</span> <span class="i0">Here
vainly placed by loving hands,</span> <span class="i0">Sole
guardian of memory and woe,</span> <span class="i0">The image of
departed beauty stands.</span> <span class="i0">Mute, motionless,
it seems with pensive gaze</span> <span class="i0">To watch the
flight of the departing days.</span> <span class="i0">That gentle
look, that, wheresoe’er it fell,</span> <span class="i0">As now it
seems to fall,</span> <span class="i0">Held fast the gazer with its
magic spell;</span> <span class="i0">That lip, from which as from
some copious urn,</span> <span class="i0">Redundant pleasure seems
to overflow;</span> <span class="i0">That neck, on which love once
so fondly hung;</span> <span class="i0">That loving hand, whose
tender pressure still</span> <span class="i0">The hand it clasped,
with trembling joy would thrill;</span> <span class="i0">That
bosom, whose transparent loveliness</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page136" id="page136" title="136"></SPAN>The color
from the gazer’s cheek would steal;</span> <span class="i0">All
these <i>have been</i>; and now remains alone</span> <span class="i0">A wretched heap of bones and clay,</span> <span class="i0">Concealed from sight by this benignant stone.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">To this hath Fate reduced</span> <span class="i0">The
form, that, when with life it beamed,</span> <span class="i0">To us
heaven’s liveliest image seemed.</span> <span class="i0">O Nature’s
endless mystery!</span> <span class="i0">To-day, of grand and lofty
thoughts the source,</span> <span class="i0">And feelings not to be
described,</span> <span class="i0">Beauty rules all, and seems,</span>
<span class="i0">Like some mysterious splendor from on high</span>
<span class="i0">Forth-darted to illuminate</span> <span class="i0">This
dreary wilderness;</span> <span class="i0">Of superhuman fate,</span>
<span class="i0">Of fortunate realms, and golden worlds,</span>
<span class="i0">A token, and a hope secure</span> <span class="i0">To
give our mortal state;</span> <span class="i0">To-morrow, for some
trivial cause,</span> <span class="i0">Loathsome to sight,
abominable, base</span> <span class="i0">Becomes, what but a little
time before</span> <span class="i0">Wore such an angel face;</span>
<span class="i0">And from our minds, in the same breath,</span>
<span class="i0">The grand conception it inspired,</span> <span class="i0">Swift vanishes and leaves no trace.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page137" id="page137" title="137"></SPAN>What
infinite desires,</span> <span class="i0">What visions grand and
high,</span> <span class="i0">In our exalted thought,</span>
<span class="i0">With magic power creates, true harmony!</span>
<span class="i0">O’er a delicious and mysterious sea,</span> <span class="i0">The exulting spirit glides,</span> <span class="i0">As
some bold swimmer sports in Ocean’s tides:</span> <span class="i0">But
oh, the mischief that is wrought,</span> <span class="i0">If but
one accent out of tune</span> <span class="i0">Assaults the ear!
Alas, how soon</span> <span class="i0">Our paradise is turned to
naught!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O human nature, why is this?</span> <span class="i0">If frail and vile throughout,</span> <span class="i0">If
shadow, dust thou art, say, why</span> <span class="i0">Hast thou
such fancies, aspirations high?</span> <span class="i0">And yet, if
framed for nobler ends,</span> <span class="i0">Alas, why are we
doomed</span> <span class="i0">To see our highest motives, truest
thoughts,</span> <span class="i0">By such base causes kindled, and
consumed?</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page138" id="page138" title="138"></SPAN>PALINODIA.<small>TO THE MARQUIS GINO CAPPONI.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">I was mistaken, my dear Gino. Long</span> <span class="i0">And greatly have I erred. I fancied life</span> <span class="i0">A vain and wretched thing, and this, our age,</span>
<span class="i0">Now passing, vainest, silliest of all.</span>
<span class="i0">Intolerable seemed, and <i>was</i>, such talk</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the happy race of mortals, if,</span> <span class="i0">Indeed, man ought or could be mortal called.</span>
<span class="i0">’Twixt anger and surprise, the lofty creatures laughed</span>
<span class="i0">Forth from the fragrant Eden where they dwell;</span>
<span class="i0">Neglected, or unfortunate, they called me;</span>
<span class="i0">Of joy incapable, or ignorant,</span> <span class="i0">To think my lot the common lot of all,</span> <span class="i0">Mankind, the partner in my misery.</span> <span class="i0">At length, amid the odor of cigars,</span> <span class="i0">The crackling sound of dainty pastry, and</span> <span class="i0">The orders loud for ices and for drinks,</span> <span class="i0">’Midst clinking glasses, and ’midst brandished spoons,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page139" id="page139" title="139"></SPAN>The daily light of the gazettes flashed full</span>
<span class="i0">On my dim eyes. I saw and recognized</span> <span class="i0">The public joy, and the felicity</span> <span class="i0">Of
human destiny. The lofty state</span> <span class="i0">I saw, and
value of all human things;</span> <span class="i0">Our mortal
pathway strewed with flowers; I saw</span> <span class="i0">How
naught displeasing here below endures.</span> <span class="i0">Nor
less I saw the studies and the works</span> <span class="i0">Stupendous,
wisdom, virtue, knowledge deep</span> <span class="i0">Of this our
age. From far Morocco to</span> <span class="i0">Cathay, and from
the Poles unto the Nile,</span> <span class="i0">From Boston unto
Goa, on the track</span> <span class="i0">Of flying Fortune,
emulously panting,</span> <span class="i0">The empires, kingdoms,
dukedoms of the earth</span> <span class="i0">I saw, now clinging
to her waving locks,</span> <span class="i0">Now to the end of her
encircling boa.</span> <span class="i0">Beholding this, and o’er
the ample sheets</span> <span class="i0">Profoundly meditating, I
became</span> <span class="i0">Of my sad blunder, and myself,
ashamed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The age of gold the spindles of the Fates,</span>
<span class="i0">O Gino, are evolving. Every sheet,</span> <span class="i0">In each variety of speech and type,</span> <span class="i0">The splendid promise to the world proclaims,</span>
<span class="i0">From every quarter. Universal love,</span> <span class="i0">And iron roads, and commerce manifold,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page140" id="page140" title="140"></SPAN>Steam,
types, and cholera, remotest lands,</span> <span class="i0">Most
distant nations will together bind;</span> <span class="i0">Nor
need we wonder if the pine or oak</span> <span class="i0">Yield
milk and honey, or together dance</span> <span class="i0">Unto the
music of the waltz. So much</span> <span class="i0">The force
already hath increased, both of</span> <span class="i0">Alembics,
and retorts, and of machines,</span> <span class="i0">That vie with
heaven in working miracles,</span> <span class="i0">And will
increase, in times that are to come:</span> <span class="i0">For,
evermore, from better unto best,</span> <span class="i0">Without a
pause, as in the past, the race</span> <span class="i0">Of Shem,
and Ham, and Japhet will progress.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And yet, on acorns men will never feed,</span>
<span class="i0">Unless compelled by hunger; never will</span>
<span class="i0">Hard iron lay aside. Full oft, indeed,</span>
<span class="i0">They gold and silver will despise, bills of</span>
<span class="i0">Exchange preferring. Often, too, the race</span>
<span class="i0">Its generous hands with brothers’ blood will stain,</span>
<span class="i0">With fields of carnage filling Europe, and</span>
<span class="i0">The other shore of the Atlantic sea,</span> <span class="i0">The new world, that the old still nourishes,</span>
<span class="i0">As often as it sends its rival bands</span> <span class="i0">Of armed adventurers, in eager quest</span> <span class="i0">Of pepper, cinnamon, or other spice,</span> <span class="i0">Or sugar-cane, aught that ministers</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page141" id="page141" title="141"></SPAN>Unto
the universal thirst for gold.</span> <span class="i0">True worth
and virtue, modesty and faith,</span> <span class="i0">And love of
justice, in whatever land,</span> <span class="i0">From public
business will be still estranged,</span> <span class="i0">Or
utterly humiliated and</span> <span class="i0">O’erthrown;
condemned by Nature still,</span> <span class="i0">To sink unto the
bottom. Insolence</span> <span class="i0">And fraud, with
mediocrity combined,</span> <span class="i0">Will to the surface
ever rise, and reign.</span> <span class="i0">Authority and
strength, howe’er diffused,</span> <span class="i0">However
concentrated, will be still</span> <span class="i0">Abused, beneath
whatever name concealed,</span> <span class="i0">By him who wields
them; this the law by Fate</span> <span class="i0">And nature
written first, in adamant:</span> <span class="i0">Nor can a Volta
with his lightnings, nor</span> <span class="i0">A Davy cancel it,
nor England with</span> <span class="i0">Her vast machinery, nor
this our age</span> <span class="i0">With all its floods of Leading
Articles.</span> <span class="i0">The good man ever will be sad,
the wretch</span> <span class="i0">Will keep perpetual holiday;
against</span> <span class="i0">All lofty souls both worlds will
still be armed</span> <span class="i0">Conspirators; true honor be
assailed</span> <span class="i0">By calumny, and hate, and envy;
still</span> <span class="i0">The weak will be the victim of the
strong;</span> <span class="i0">The hungry man upon the rich will
fawn,</span> <span class="i0">Beneath whatever form of government,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page142" id="page142" title="142"></SPAN>Alike at the Equator and the Poles;</span> <span class="i0">So will it be, while man on earth abides,</span> <span class="i0">And while the sun still lights him on his way.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">These signs and tokens of the ages past</span>
<span class="i0">Must of necessity their impress leave</span> <span class="i0">Upon our brightly dawning age of gold:</span> <span class="i0">Because society from Nature still</span> <span class="i0">Receives
a thousand principles and aims,</span> <span class="i0">Diverse,
discordant; which to reconcile,</span> <span class="i0">No wit or
power of man hath yet availed,</span> <span class="i0">Since first
our race, illustrious, was born;</span> <span class="i0">Nor <i>will</i>
avail, or treaty or gazette,</span> <span class="i0">In any age,
however wise or strong.</span> <span class="i0">But in things more
important, how complete,</span> <span class="i0">Ne’er seen, till
now, will be our happiness!</span> <span class="i0">More soft, from
day to day, our garments will</span> <span class="i0">Become, of
woollen or of silk. Their rough</span> <span class="i0">Attire the
husbandman and smith will cast</span> <span class="i0">Aside, will
swathe in cotton their rough hides,</span> <span class="i0">And
with the skins of beavers warm their backs.</span> <span class="i0">More
serviceable, more attractive, too,</span> <span class="i0">Will be
our carpets and our counterpanes,</span> <span class="i0">Our
curtains, sofas, tables, and our chairs;</span> <span class="i0">Our
beds, and their attendant furniture,</span> <span class="i0">Will a
new grace unto our chambers lend;</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page143" id="page143" title="143"></SPAN>And dainty
forms of kettles and of pans,</span> <span class="i0">On our dark
kitchens will their lustre shed.</span> <span class="i0">From Paris
unto Calais, and from there</span> <span class="i0">To London, and
from there to Liverpool,</span> <span class="i0">More rapid than
imagination can</span> <span class="i0">Conceive, will be the
journey, nay the flight;</span> <span class="i0">While underneath
the ample bed of Thames,</span> <span class="i0">A highway will be
made, immortal work,</span> <span class="i0">That <i>should</i>
have been completed, years ago.</span> <span class="i0">Far better
lighted, and perhaps as safe,</span> <span class="i0">At night, as
now they are, will be the lanes</span> <span class="i0">And
unfrequented streets of Capitals;</span> <span class="i0">Perhaps,
the main streets of the smaller towns.</span> <span class="i0">Such
privileges, such a happy lot,</span> <span class="i0">Kind heaven
reserves unto the coming race.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How fortunate are they, whom, as I write,</span>
<span class="i0">Naked and whimpering, in her arms receives</span>
<span class="i0">The midwife! They those longed-for days may hope</span>
<span class="i0">To see, when, after careful studies we</span>
<span class="i0">Shall know, and every nursling shall imbibe</span>
<span class="i0">That knowledge with the milk of the dear nurse,</span>
<span class="i0">How many hundred-weight of salt, and how</span>
<span class="i0">Much flesh, how many bushels, too, of flour,</span>
<span class="i0">His native town in every month consumes;</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page144" id="page144" title="144"></SPAN>How many births and deaths in every year</span>
<span class="i0">The parish priest inscribes: when by the aid</span>
<span class="i0">Of mighty steam, that, every second, prints</span>
<span class="i0">Its millions, hill and dale, and ocean’s vast</span>
<span class="i0">Expanse, e’en as we see a flock of cranes</span>
<span class="i0">Aërial, that suddenly the day obscure, will with
Gazettes be overrun;</span> <span class="i0">Gazettes, of the great
Universe the life</span> <span class="i0">And soul, sole fount of
wisdom and of wit,</span> <span class="i0">To this, and unto every
coming age!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">E’en as a child, who carefully constructs,</span>
<span class="i0">Of little sticks and leaves, an edifice,</span>
<span class="i0">In form of temple, palace, or of tower;</span>
<span class="i0">And, soon as he beholds the work complete,</span>
<span class="i0">The impulse feels, the structure to destroy,</span>
<span class="i0">Because the self-same sticks and leaves he needs,</span>
<span class="i0">To carry out some other enterprise;</span> <span class="i0">So Nature every work of hers, however</span> <span class="i0">It may delight us with its excellence,</span> <span class="i0">No sooner sees unto perfection brought,</span> <span class="i0">Than she proceeds to pull it all to pieces,</span> <span class="i0">For other structures using still the parts.</span> <span class="i0">And vainly seeks the human race, itself</span> <span class="i0">Or others from the cruel sport to save,</span> <span class="i0">The cause of which is hidden from its sight</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page145" id="page145" title="145"></SPAN>Forever,
though a thousand means it tries,</span> <span class="i0">With
skilful hand devising remedies:</span> <span class="i0">For cruel
Nature, child invincible,</span> <span class="i0">Our efforts
laughs to scorn, and still its own</span> <span class="i0">Caprices
carries out, without a pause,</span> <span class="i0">Destroying
and creating, for its sport.</span> <span class="i0">And hence, a
various, endless family</span> <span class="i0">Of ills incurable
and sufferings</span> <span class="i0">Oppresses the frail mortal,
doomed to death</span> <span class="i0">Irreparably; hence a
hostile force,</span> <span class="i0">Destructive, smites him from
within, without,</span> <span class="i0">On every side, perpetual,
e’en from</span> <span class="i0">The day of birth, and wearies and
exhausts,</span> <span class="i0">Itself untiring, till he drops at
last,</span> <span class="i0">By the inhuman mother crushed, and
killed.</span> <span class="i0">Those crowning miseries, O gentle
friend,</span> <span class="i0">Of this our mortal life, old age
and death,</span> <span class="i0">E’en then commencing, when the
infant lip</span> <span class="i0">The tender breast doth press,
that life instils,</span> <span class="i0">This happy nineteenth
century, I think,</span> <span class="i0">Can no more help, than
could the ninth, or tenth,</span> <span class="i0">Nor will the
coming ages, more than this.</span> <span class="i0">Indeed, if we
may be allowed to call</span> <span class="i0">The truth by its
right name, no other than</span> <span class="i0">Supremely
wretched must each mortal be,</span> <span class="i0">In every age,
and under every form</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page146" id="page146" title="146"></SPAN>Of government, and walk and
mode of life;</span> <span class="i0">By nature hopelessly
incurable,</span> <span class="i0">Because a universal law hath so</span>
<span class="i0">Decreed, which heaven and earth alike obey.</span>
<span class="i0">And yet the lofty spirits of our age</span> <span class="i0">A new discovery have made, almost</span> <span class="i0">Divine;
for, though they cannot make</span> <span class="i0">A single
person happy on the earth,</span> <span class="i0">The man
forgetting, they have gone in quest</span> <span class="i0">Of
universal happiness, and this,</span> <span class="i0">Forsooth,
have found so easily, that out</span> <span class="i0">Of many
wretched individuals,</span> <span class="i0">They can a happy,
joyful people make.</span> <span class="i0">And at this miracle,
not yet explained</span> <span class="i0">By quarterly reviews, or
pamphlets, or</span> <span class="i0">Gazettes, the common herd in
wonder smile.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O minds, O wisdom, insight marvellous</span> <span class="i0">Of this our passing age! And what profound</span> <span class="i0">Philosophy, what lessons deep, O Gino,</span> <span class="i0">In matters more sublime and recondite,</span> <span class="i0">This century of thine and mine will teach</span> <span class="i0">To those that follow! With what constancy,</span> <span class="i0">What yesterday it scorned, upon its knees</span> <span class="i0">To-day it worships, and will overthrow</span> <span class="i0">To-morrow, merely to pick up again</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page147" id="page147" title="147"></SPAN>The
fragments, to the idol thus restored,</span> <span class="i0">To
offer incense on the following day!</span> <span class="i0">How
estimable, how inspiring, too,</span> <span class="i0">This
unanimity of thought, not of</span> <span class="i0">The age alone,
but of each passing year!</span> <span class="i0">How carefully
should we, when we our thought</span> <span class="i0">With this
compare, however different</span> <span class="i0">From that of
next year it may be, at least</span> <span class="i0">Appearance of
diversity avoid!</span> <span class="i0">What giant strides,
compared with those of old,</span> <span class="i0">Our century in
wisdom’s school has made!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">One of thy friends, O worthy Gino, once,</span>
<span class="i0">A master poet, nay, of every Art,</span> <span class="i0">And Science, every human faculty,</span> <span class="i0">For
past, and present, and for future times,</span> <span class="i0">A
learned expositor, remarked to me:</span> <span class="i0">“Of
thy own feelings, care to speak no more!</span> <span class="i0">Of
them, this manly age makes no account,</span> <span class="i0">In
economic problems quite absorbed,</span> <span class="i0">And with
an eye for politics alone,</span> <span class="i0">Of what avail,
thy own heart to explore?</span> <span class="i0">Seek not within
thyself material</span> <span class="i0">For song; but sing the
needs of this our age,</span> <span class="i0">And consummation of
its ripening hope!”</span> <span class="i0">O memorable
words! Whereat I laughed</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page148" id="page148" title="148"></SPAN>Like
chanticleer, the name of <i>hope</i> to hear</span> <span class="i0">Thus
strike upon my ear profane, as if</span> <span class="i0">A jest it
were, or prattle of a child</span> <span class="i0">Just weaned.
But now a different course I take,</span> <span class="i0">Convinced
by many shining proofs, that he</span> <span class="i0">Must not
resist or contradict the age,</span> <span class="i0">Who seeketh
praise or pudding at its hands,</span> <span class="i0">But
faithfully and servilely obey;</span> <span class="i0">And so will
find a short and easy road</span> <span class="i0">Unto the stars.
And I who long to reach</span> <span class="i0">The stars will not,
howe’er, select the needs</span> <span class="i0">Of this our age
for burden of my song;</span> <span class="i0">For these,
increasing constantly, are still</span> <span class="i0">By
merchants and by work-shops amply met;</span> <span class="i0">But
I will sing of hope, of hope whereof</span> <span class="i0">The
gods now grant a pledge so palpable.</span> <span class="i0">The
first-fruits of our new felicity</span> <span class="i0">Behold, in
the enormous growth of hair,</span> <span class="i0">Upon the lip,
upon the cheek, of youth!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O hail, thou salutary sign, first beam</span>
<span class="i0">Of light of this our wondrous, rising age!</span>
<span class="i0">See, how before thee heaven and earth rejoice,</span>
<span class="i0">How sparkle all the damsels’ eyes with joy,</span>
<span class="i0">How through all banquets and all festivals</span>
<span class="i0">The fame of the young bearded heroes flies!</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page149" id="page149" title="149"></SPAN>Grow for your country’s sake, ye manly youth!</span>
<span class="i0">Beneath the shadow of your fleecy locks,</span>
<span class="i0">Will Italy increase, and Europe from</span> <span class="i0">The mouths of Tagus to the Hellespont,</span> <span class="i0">And all the world will taste the sweets of peace.</span>
<span class="i0">And thou, O tender child, for whom these days</span>
<span class="i0">Of gold are yet in store, begin to greet</span>
<span class="i0">Thy bearded father with a smile, nor fear</span>
<span class="i0">The harmless blackness of his loving face.</span>
<span class="i0">Laugh, darling child; for thee are kept the fruits</span>
<span class="i0">Of so much dazzling eloquence. Thou shalt</span>
<span class="i0">Behold joy reign in cities and in towns,</span>
<span class="i0">Old age and youth alike contented dwell,</span>
<span class="i0">And undulating beards of two spans long!</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE SETTING OF THE MOON. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">As, in the lonely night,</span> <span class="i0">Above
the silvered fields and streams</span> <span class="i0">Where
zephyr gently blows,</span> <span class="i0">And myriad objects
vague,</span> <span class="i0">Illusions, that deceive,</span>
<span class="i0">Their distant shadows weave</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page150" id="page150" title="150"></SPAN>Amid the
silent rills,</span> <span class="i0">The trees, the hedges,
villages, and hills;</span> <span class="i0">Arrived at heaven’s
boundary,</span> <span class="i0">Behind the Apennine or Alp,</span>
<span class="i0">Or into the deep bosom of the sea,</span> <span class="i0">The moon descends, the world grows dim;</span> <span class="i0">The shadows disappear, darkness profound</span> <span class="i0">Falls on each hill and vale around,</span> <span class="i0">And night is desolate,</span> <span class="i0">And
singing, with his plaintive lay,</span> <span class="i0">The
parting gleam of friendly light</span> <span class="i0">The
traveller greets, whose radiance bright,</span> <span class="i0">Till
now, hath guided him upon his way;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">So vanishes, so desolate</span> <span class="i0">Youth
leaves our mortal state.</span> <span class="i0">The shadows
disappear,</span> <span class="i0">And the illusions dear;</span>
<span class="i0">And in the distance fading all, are seen</span>
<span class="i0">The hopes on which our suffering natures lean.</span>
<span class="i0">Abandoned and forlorn</span> <span class="i0">Our
lives remain;</span> <span class="i0">And the bewildered traveller,
in vain,</span> <span class="i0">As he its course surveys,</span>
<span class="i0">To find the end, or object tries,</span> <span class="i0">Of the long path that still before him lies.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page151" id="page151" title="151"></SPAN>A hopeless darkness o’er him steals;</span> <span class="i0">Himself an alien on the earth he feels.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Too happy, and too gay</span> <span class="i0">Would
our hard lot appear</span> <span class="i0">To those who placed us
here, if youth,</span> <span class="i0">Whose every joy is born of
pain,</span> <span class="i0">Through all our days were suffered to
remain;</span> <span class="i0">Too merciful the law,</span>
<span class="i0">That sentences each animal to death,</span> <span class="i0">Did not the road that leads to it,</span> <span class="i0">E’er half-completed, unto us appear</span> <span class="i0">Than death itself more sad and drear.</span> <span class="i0">Thou blest invention of the Gods,</span> <span class="i0">And
worthy of their intellects divine,</span> <span class="i0">Old age,
the last of all our ills,</span> <span class="i0">When our desires
still linger on,</span> <span class="i0">Though every ray of hope
is gone;</span> <span class="i0">When pleasure’s fountains all are
dried,</span> <span class="i0">Our pains increasing, every joy
denied!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Ye hills, and vales, and fields,</span> <span class="i0">Though in the west hath set the radiant orb</span> <span class="i0">That shed its lustre on the veil of night,</span> <span class="i0">Will not long time remain bereft,</span> <span class="i0">In
hopeless darkness left?</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page152" id="page152" title="152"></SPAN>Ye soon will see the eastern
sky</span> <span class="i0">Grow white again, the dawn arise,</span>
<span class="i0">Precursor of the sun,</span> <span class="i0">Who
with the splendor of his rays</span> <span class="i0">Will all the
scene irradiate,</span> <span class="i0">And with his floods of
light</span> <span class="i0">The fields of heaven and earth will
inundate.</span> <span class="i0">But mortal life,</span>
<span class="i0">When lovely youth has gone,</span> <span class="i0">Is
colored with no other light,</span> <span class="i0">And knows no
other dawn.</span> <span class="i0">The rest is hopeless
wretchedness and gloom;</span> <span class="i0">The journey’s end,
the dark and silent tomb.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> THE GINESTRA,<small>OR THE FLOWER OF THE WILDERNESS.</small> </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Here, on the arid ridge</span> <span class="i0">Of
dead Vesuvius,</span> <span class="i0">Exterminator terrible,</span>
<span class="i0">That by no other tree or flower is cheered,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou scatterest thy lonely leaves around,</span>
<span class="i0">O fragrant flower,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page153" id="page153" title="153"></SPAN>With
desert wastes content. Thy graceful stems</span> <span class="i0">I
in the solitary paths have found,</span> <span class="i0">The city
that surround,</span> <span class="i0">That once was mistress of
the world;</span> <span class="i0">And of her fallen power,</span>
<span class="i0">They seemed with silent eloquence to speak</span>
<span class="i0">Unto the thoughtful wanderer.</span> <span class="i0">And now again I see thee on this soil,</span> <span class="i0">Of wretched, world-abandoned spots the friend,</span>
<span class="i0">Of ruined fortunes the companion, still.</span>
<span class="i0">These fields with barren ashes strown,</span>
<span class="i0">And lava, hardened into stone,</span> <span class="i0">Beneath the pilgrim’s feet, that hollow sound,</span>
<span class="i0">Where by their nests the serpents coiled,</span>
<span class="i0">Lie basking in the sun,</span> <span class="i0">And
where the conies timidly</span> <span class="i0">To their familiar
burrows run,</span> <span class="i0">Were cheerful villages and
towns,</span> <span class="i0">With waving fields of golden grain,</span>
<span class="i0">And musical with lowing herds;</span> <span class="i0">Were gardens, and were palaces,</span> <span class="i0">That
to the leisure of the rich</span> <span class="i0">A grateful
shelter gave;</span> <span class="i0">Were famous cities, which the
mountain fierce,</span> <span class="i0">Forth-darting torrents
from his mouth of flame,</span> <span class="i0">Destroyed, with
their inhabitants.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page154" id="page154" title="154"></SPAN>Now all around, one ruin
lies,</span> <span class="i0">Where thou dost dwell, O gentle
flower,</span> <span class="i0">And, as in pity of another’s woe,</span>
<span class="i0">A perfume sweet thou dost exhale,</span> <span class="i0">To heaven an offering,</span> <span class="i0">And
consolation to the desert bring.</span> <span class="i0">Here let
him come, who hath been used</span> <span class="i0">To chant the
praises of our mortal state,</span> <span class="i0">And see the
care,</span> <span class="i0">That loving Nature of her children
takes!</span> <span class="i0">Here may he justly estimate</span>
<span class="i0">The power of mortals, whom</span> <span class="i0">The
cruel nurse, when least they fear,</span> <span class="i0">With
motion light can in a moment crush</span> <span class="i0">In part,
and afterwards, when in the mood,</span> <span class="i0">With
motion not so light, can suddenly,</span> <span class="i0">And
utterly annihilate.</span> <span class="i0">Here, on these blighted
coasts,</span> <span class="i0">May he distinctly trace</span>
<span class="i0">“The princely progress of the human race!”</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Here look, and in a mirror see thyself,</span>
<span class="i0">O proud and foolish age!</span> <span class="i0">That
turn’st thy back upon the path,</span> <span class="i0">That
thought revived</span> <span class="i0">So clearly indicates to
all,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page155" id="page155" title="155"></SPAN>And this, thy movement retrograde,</span>
<span class="i0">Dost <i>Progress</i> call.</span> <span class="i0">Thy
foolish prattle all the minds,</span> <span class="i0">Whose cruel
fate thee for a father gave,</span> <span class="i0">Besmear with
flattery,</span> <span class="i0">Although, among themselves, at
times,</span> <span class="i0">They laugh at thee.</span>
<span class="i0">But I will not to such low arts descend,</span>
<span class="i0">Though envy it would be for me,</span> <span class="i0">The rest to imitate,</span> <span class="i0">And,
raving, wilfully,</span> <span class="i0">To make my song more
pleasing to thy ears:</span> <span class="i0">But I will sooner far
reveal,</span> <span class="i0">As clearly as I can, the deep
disdain</span> <span class="i0">That I for thee within my bosom
feel;</span> <span class="i0">Although I know, oblivion</span>
<span class="i0">Awaits the man who holds his age in scorn:</span>
<span class="i0">But this misfortune, which I share with thee,</span>
<span class="i0">My laughter only moves.</span> <span class="i0">Thou
dream’st of liberty,</span> <span class="i0">And yet thou wouldst
anew that thought enslave,</span> <span class="i0">By which alone
we are redeemed, in part,</span> <span class="i0">From barbarism;
by which alone</span> <span class="i0">True progress is obtained,</span>
<span class="i0">And states are guided to a nobler end.</span>
<span class="i0">And so the truth of our hard lot,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page156" id="page156" title="156"></SPAN>And
of the humble place</span> <span class="i0">Which Nature gave us,
pleased thee not;</span> <span class="i0">And like a coward, thou
hast turned thy back</span> <span class="i0">Upon the light, which
made it evident;</span> <span class="i0">Reviling him who does that
light pursue,</span> <span class="i0">And praising him alone</span>
<span class="i0">Who, in his folly, or from motives base,</span>
<span class="i0">Above the stars exalts the human race.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">A man of poor estate, and weak of limb,</span>
<span class="i0">But of a generous, truthful soul,</span> <span class="i0">Nor calls, nor deems himself</span> <span class="i0">A
Crœsus, or a Hercules,</span> <span class="i0">Nor makes
himself ridiculous</span> <span class="i0">Before the world with
vain pretence</span> <span class="i0">Of vigor or of opulence;</span>
<span class="i0">But his infirmities and needs</span> <span class="i0">He lets appear, and without shame,</span> <span class="i0">And speaking frankly, calls each thing</span> <span class="i0">By its right name.</span> <span class="i0">I deem not <i>him</i>
magnanimous,</span> <span class="i0">But simply, a great fool,</span>
<span class="i0">Who, born to perish, reared in suffering,</span>
<span class="i0">Proclaims his lot a happy one,</span> <span class="i0">And with offensive pride</span> <span class="i0">His
pages fills, exalted destinies</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page157" id="page157" title="157"></SPAN>And joys,
unknown in heaven, much less</span> <span class="i0">On earth,
absurdly promising to those</span> <span class="i0">Who by a wave
of angry sea,</span> <span class="i0">Or breath of tainted air,</span>
<span class="i0">Or shaking of the earth beneath,</span> <span class="i0">Are ruined, crushed so utterly,</span> <span class="i0">As
scarce to be recalled by memory.</span> <span class="i0">But truly
noble, wise is <i>he</i>,</span> <span class="i0">Who bids his
brethren boldly look</span> <span class="i0">Upon our common
misery;</span> <span class="i0">Who frankly tells the naked truth,</span>
<span class="i0">Acknowledging our frail and wretched state,</span>
<span class="i0">And all the ills decreed to us by Fate;</span>
<span class="i0">Who shows himself in suffering brave and strong,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor adds unto his miseries</span> <span class="i0">Fraternal
jealousies and strifes,</span> <span class="i0">The hardest things
to bear of all,</span> <span class="i0">Reproaching man with his
own grief,</span> <span class="i0">But the true culprit</span>
<span class="i0">Who, in our birth, a mother is,</span> <span class="i0">A fierce step-mother in her will.</span> <span class="i0"><i>Her</i>
he proclaims the enemy,</span> <span class="i0">And thinking all
the human race</span> <span class="i0">Against her armed, as is the
case,</span> <span class="i0">E’en from the first, united and
arrayed,</span> <span class="i0">All men esteems confederates,</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page158" id="page158" title="158"></SPAN>And with true love embraces all,</span> <span class="i0">Prompt and efficient aid bestowing, and</span> <span class="i0">Expecting it, in all the pains</span> <span class="i0">And
perils of the common war.</span> <span class="i0">And to resent
with arms all injuries,</span> <span class="i0">Or snares and
pit-falls for a neighbor lay,</span> <span class="i0">Absurd he
deems, as it would be, upon</span> <span class="i0">The field,
surrounded by the enemy,</span> <span class="i0">The foe
forgetting, bitter war</span> <span class="i0">With one’s own
friends to wage,</span> <span class="i0">And in the hottest of the
fight,</span> <span class="i0">With cruel and misguided sword,</span>
<span class="i0">One’s fellow soldiers put to flight.</span> <span class="i0">When truths like these are rendered clear,</span> <span class="i0">As once they were, unto the multitude,</span> <span class="i0">And when that fear, which from the first,</span> <span class="i0">All mortals in a social band</span> <span class="i0">Against
inhuman Nature joined</span> <span class="i0">Anew shall guided be,
in part,</span> <span class="i0">By knowledge true, then social
intercourse,</span> <span class="i0">And faith, and hope, and
charity</span> <span class="i0">Will a far different foundation
have</span> <span class="i0">From that which silly fables give,</span>
<span class="i0">By which supported, public truth and good</span>
<span class="i0">Must still proceed with an unstable foot,</span>
<span class="i0">As all things that in error have their root.</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page159" id="page159" title="159"></SPAN>Oft, on these hills, so desolate,</span> <span class="i0">Which by the hardened flood,</span> <span class="i0">That
seems in waves to rise,</span> <span class="i0">Are clad in
mourning, do I sit at night,</span> <span class="i0">And o’er the
dreary plain behold</span> <span class="i0">The stars above in
purest azure shine,</span> <span class="i0">And in the ocean
mirrored from afar,</span> <span class="i0">And all the world in
brilliant sparks arrayed,</span> <span class="i0">Revolving through
the vault serene.</span> <span class="i0">And when my eyes I fasten
on those lights,</span> <span class="i0">Which seem to them a
point,</span> <span class="i0">And yet are so immense,</span>
<span class="i0">That earth and sea, with them compared,</span>
<span class="i0">Are but a point indeed;</span> <span class="i0">To
whom, not only man,</span> <span class="i0">But this our globe,
where man is nothing, is</span> <span class="i0">Unknown; and when
I farther gaze upon</span> <span class="i0">Those clustered stars,
at distance infinite,</span> <span class="i0">That seem to us like
mist, to whom</span> <span class="i0">Not only man and earth, but
all our stars</span> <span class="i0">At once, so vast in numbers
and in bulk,</span> <span class="i0">The golden sun himself
included, are</span> <span class="i0">Unknown, or else appear, as
they to earth,</span> <span class="i0">A point of nebulous light,
what, then,</span> <span class="i0">Dost <i>thou</i> unto my
thought appear,</span> <span class="i0">O race of men?</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page160" id="page160" title="160"></SPAN>Remembering thy wretched state below,</span> <span class="i0">Of which the soil I tread, the token bears;</span> <span class="i0">And, on the other hand,</span> <span class="i0">That
thou thyself hast deemed</span> <span class="i0">The Lord and end
of all the Universe;</span> <span class="i0">How oft thou hast been
pleased</span> <span class="i0">The idle tale to tell,</span>
<span class="i0">That to this little grain of sand, obscure,</span>
<span class="i0">The name of earth that bears,</span> <span class="i0">The Authors of that Universe</span> <span class="i0">Have,
at thy call, descended oft,</span> <span class="i0">And pleasant
converse with thy children had;</span> <span class="i0">And how,
these foolish dreams reviving, e’en</span> <span class="i0">This
age its insults heaps upon the wise,</span> <span class="i0">Although
it seems all others to excel</span> <span class="i0">In learning,
and in arts polite;</span> <span class="i0">What can I think of
thee</span> <span class="i0">Thou wretched race of men?</span>
<span class="i0">What thoughts discordant then my heart assail,</span>
<span class="i0">In doubt, if scorn or pity should prevail!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">As a small apple, falling from a tree</span> <span class="i0">In autumn, by the force</span> <span class="i0">Of its
own ripeness, to the ground,</span> <span class="i0">The pleasant
homes of a community</span> <span class="i0">Of ants, in the soft
clod</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page161" id="page161" title="161"></SPAN>With careful labor built,</span> <span class="i0">And all their works, and all the wealth,</span> <span class="i0">Which the industrious citizens</span> <span class="i0">Had
in the summer providently stored,</span> <span class="i0">Lays
waste, destroys, and in an instant hides;</span> <span class="i0">So,
falling from on high,</span> <span class="i0">To heaven
forth-darted from</span> <span class="i0">The mountain’s groaning
womb,</span> <span class="i0">A dark destructive mass</span>
<span class="i0">Of ashes, pumice, and of stones,</span> <span class="i0">With boiling streams of lava mixed,</span> <span class="i0">Or, down the mountain’s side</span> <span class="i0">Descending,
furious, o’er the grass,</span> <span class="i0">A fearful flood</span>
<span class="i0">Of melted metals, mixed with burning sand,</span>
<span class="i0">Laid waste, destroyed, and in short time concealed</span>
<span class="i0">The cities on yon shore, washed by the sea,</span>
<span class="i0">Where now the goats</span> <span class="i0">On
this side browse, and cities new</span> <span class="i0">Upon the
other stand, whose foot-stools are</span> <span class="i0">The
buried ones, whose prostrate walls</span> <span class="i0">The
lofty mountain tramples under foot.</span> <span class="i0">Nature
no more esteems or cares for man,</span> <span class="i0">Than for
the ant; and if the race</span> <span class="i0">Is not so oft
destroyed,</span> <span class="i0">The reason we may plainly see;</span>
<span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page162" id="page162" title="162"></SPAN>Because the ants more fruitful are than we.</span>
<span class="i0">Full eighteen hundred years have passed,</span>
<span class="i0">Since, by the force of fire laid waste,</span>
<span class="i0">These thriving cities disappeared;</span> <span class="i0">And now, the husbandman,</span> <span class="i0">His
vineyards tending, that the arid clod,</span> <span class="i0">With
ashes clogged, with difficulty feeds,</span> <span class="i0">Still
raises a suspicious eye</span> <span class="i0">Unto that fatal
crest,</span> <span class="i0">That, with a fierceness not to be
controlled,</span> <span class="i0">Still stands tremendous,
threatens still</span> <span class="i0">Destruction to himself, his
children, and</span> <span class="i0">Their little property.</span>
<span class="i0">And oft upon the roof</span> <span class="i0">Of
his small cottage, the poor man</span> <span class="i0">All night
lies sleepless, often springing up,</span> <span class="i0">The
course to watch of the dread stream of fire</span> <span class="i0">That
from the inexhausted womb doth pour</span> <span class="i0">Along
the sandy ridge,</span> <span class="i0">Its lurid light reflected
in the bay,</span> <span class="i0">From Mergellina unto Capri’s
shore.</span> <span class="i0">And if he sees it drawing near,</span>
<span class="i0">Or in his well</span> <span class="i0">He hears
the boiling water gurgle, wakes</span> <span class="i0">His sons,
in haste his wife awakes,</span> <span class="i0">And, with such
things as they can snatch,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page163" id="page163" title="163"></SPAN>Escaping,
sees from far</span> <span class="i0">His little nest, and the
small field,</span> <span class="i0">His sole resource against
sharp hunger’s pangs,</span> <span class="i0">A prey unto the
burning flood,</span> <span class="i0">That crackling comes, and
with its hardening crust,</span> <span class="i0">Inexorable,
covers all.</span> <span class="i0">Unto the light of day returns,</span>
<span class="i0">After its long oblivion,</span> <span class="i0">Pompeii,
dead, an unearthed skeleton,</span> <span class="i0">Which avarice
or piety</span> <span class="i0">Hath from its grave unto the air
restored;</span> <span class="i0">And from its forum desolate,</span>
<span class="i0">And through the formal rows</span> <span class="i0">Of
mutilated colonnades,</span> <span class="i0">The stranger looks
upon the distant, severed peaks,</span> <span class="i0">And on the
smoking crest,</span> <span class="i0">That threatens still the
ruins scattered round.</span> <span class="i0">And in the horror of
the secret night,</span> <span class="i0">Along the empty theatres,</span>
<span class="i0">The broken temples, shattered houses, where</span>
<span class="i0">The bat her young conceals,</span> <span class="i0">Like
flitting torch, that smoking sheds</span> <span class="i0">A gloom
through the deserted halls</span> <span class="i0">Of palaces, the
baleful lava glides,</span> <span class="i0">That through the
shadows, distant, glares,</span> <span class="i0">And tinges every
object round.</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page164" id="page164" title="164"></SPAN>Thus, paying unto man no
heed,</span> <span class="i0">Or to the ages that he calls antique,</span>
<span class="i0">Or to the generations as they pass,</span> <span class="i0">Nature forever young remains,</span> <span class="i0">Or
at a pace so slow proceeds,</span> <span class="i0">She stationary
seems.</span> <span class="i0">Empires, meanwhile, decline and
fall,</span> <span class="i0">And nations pass away, and languages:</span>
<span class="i0">She sees it not, or <i>will</i> not see;</span>
<span class="i0">And yet man boasts of immortality!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And thou, submissive flower,</span> <span class="i0">That with thy fragrant foliage dost adorn</span> <span class="i0">These desolated plains,</span> <span class="i0">Thou,
too, must fall before the cruel power</span> <span class="i0">Of
subterranean fire,</span> <span class="i0">Which, to its well-known
haunts returning, will</span> <span class="i0">Its fatal border
spread</span> <span class="i0">O’er thy soft leaves and branches
fine.</span> <span class="i0">And thou wilt bow thy gentle head,</span>
<span class="i0">Without a struggle, yielding to thy fate:</span>
<span class="i0">But not with vain and abject cowardice,</span>
<span class="i0">Wilt thy destroyer supplicate;</span> <span class="i0">Nor wilt, erect with senseless haughtiness,</span> <span class="i0">Look up unto the stars,</span> <span class="i0">Or o’er
the wilderness,</span> <span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page165" id="page165" title="165"></SPAN>Where, not from choice, but
Fortune’s will,</span> <span class="i0">Thy birthplace thou, and
home didst find;</span> <span class="i0">But wiser, far, than man,</span>
<span class="i0">And far less weak;</span> <span class="i0">For
thou didst ne’er, from Fate, or power of thine,</span> <span class="i0">Immortal life for thy frail children seek.</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> IMITATION. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">Wandering from the parent bough,</span> <span class="i0">Little, trembling leaf,</span> <span class="i0">Whither
goest thou?</span> <span class="i0">“From the beech, where I
was born,</span> <span class="i0">By the north wind was I torn.</span>
<span class="i0">Him I follow in his flight,</span> <span class="i0">Over
mountain, over vale,</span> <span class="i0">From the forest to the
plain,</span> <span class="i0">Up the hill, and down again.</span>
<span class="i0">With him ever on the way:</span> <span class="i0">More
than that, I cannot say.</span> <span class="i0">Where I go, must
all things go,</span> <span class="i0">Gentle, simple, high and
low:</span> <span class="i0">Leaves of laurel, leaves of rose;</span>
<span class="i0">Whither, heaven only knows!”</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page166" id="page166" title="166"></SPAN>SCHERZO. </h2>
<p><span class="i0">When, as a boy, I went</span> <span class="i0">To
study in the Muses’ school,</span> <span class="i0">One of them
came to me, and took</span> <span class="i0">Me by the hand, and
all that day,</span> <span class="i0">She through the work-shop led
me graciously,</span> <span class="i0">The mysteries of the craft
to see.</span> <span class="i0">She guided me</span> <span class="i0">Through every part,</span> <span class="i0">And showed
me all</span> <span class="i0">The instruments of art,</span>
<span class="i0">And did their uses all rehearse,</span> <span class="i0">In works alike of prose and verse.</span> <span class="i0">I looked, and paused awhile,</span> <span class="i0">Then
asked: “O Muse, where is the file?”</span> <span class="i0">“The file is out of order, friend, and we</span>
<span class="i0">Now do without it,” answered she.</span>
<span class="i0">“But, to repair it, then, have you no care?”</span>
<span class="i0">“We <i>should</i>, indeed, but have no time to
spare.”</span></p>
<div class='chapter'></div>
<h2> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page167" id="page167" title="167"></SPAN>FRAGMENTS. </h2>
<h3> I. </h3>
<p><span class="i0">I round the threshold wandering here,</span> <span class="i0">Vainly the tempest and the rain invoke,</span> <span class="i0">That they may keep my lady prisoner.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And yet the wind was howling in the woods,</span>
<span class="i0">The roving thunder bellowing in the clouds,</span>
<span class="i0">Before the dawn had risen in the sky.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">O ye dear clouds! O heaven! O earth! O trees!</span>
<span class="i0">My lady goes! Have mercy, if on earth</span> <span class="i0">Unhappy lovers ever mercy find!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Awake, ye whirlwinds! storm-charged clouds, awake,</span>
<span class="i0">O’erwhelm me with your floods, until the sun</span>
<span class="i0">To other lands brings back the light of day!</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Heaven opens; the wind falls; the grass, the leaves</span>
<span class="i0">Are motionless, around; the dazzling sun</span>
<span class="i0">In my tear-laden eyes remorseless shines.</span></p>
<h3> <SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page168" id="page168" title="168"></SPAN>II. </h3>
<p><span class="i0">The light of day was fading in the west,</span>
<span class="i0">The smoke no more from village chimneys curled,</span>
<span class="i0">Nor voice of man, nor bark of dog was heard;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">When she, obedient to Love’s rendezvous,</span>
<span class="i0">Had reached the middle of a plain, than which</span>
<span class="i0">No other more bewitching could be found.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The moon on every side her lustre shed,</span>
<span class="i0">And all in robes of silver light arrayed</span>
<span class="i0">The trees with which the place was garlanded.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The rustling boughs were murmuring to the wind,</span>
<span class="i0">And, blending with the plaintive nightingale,</span>
<span class="i0">A rivulet poured forth its sweet lament.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The sea shone in the distance, and the fields</span>
<span class="i0">And groves; and slowly rising, one by one,</span>
<span class="i0">The summits of the mountains were revealed.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">In quiet shade the sombre valley lay,</span> <span class="i0">While all the little hills around were clothed</span>
<span class="i0">With the soft lustre of the dewy moon.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page169" id="page169" title="169"></SPAN>The maiden kept the silent, lonely path,</span>
<span class="i0">And gently passing o’er her face, she felt</span>
<span class="i0">The motion of the perfume-laden breeze.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">If she were happy, it were vain to ask;</span>
<span class="i0">The scene delighted her, and the delight</span>
<span class="i0">Her heart was promising, was greater still.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">How swift your flight, O lovely hours serene!</span>
<span class="i0">No other pleasure here below endures,</span> <span class="i0">Or lingers with us long, save hope alone.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The night began to change, and dark became</span>
<span class="i0">The face of heaven, that was so beautiful,</span>
<span class="i0">And all her pleasure now was turned to fear.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">An angry cloud, precursor of the storm,</span>
<span class="i0">Behind the mountains rose, and still increased,</span>
<span class="i0">Till moon or star no longer could be seen.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">She saw it spreading upon every side,</span> <span class="i0">And by degrees ascending through the air,</span> <span class="i0">And now with its black mantle covering all.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The scanty light more faint and faint became;</span>
<span class="i0">The wind, meanwhile, was rising in the grove,</span>
<span class="i0">That on the farther side the spot enclosed;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page170" id="page170" title="170"></SPAN>And, every moment, was more boisterous;</span>
<span class="i0">Till every bird, awaking in its fright,</span>
<span class="i0">Amidst the trembling leaves was fluttering.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The cloud, increasing still, unto the coast</span>
<span class="i0">Descended, so that one extremity</span> <span class="i0">The mountains touched, the other touched the sea.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And now from out its black and hollow womb,</span>
<span class="i0">The pattering rain-drops, falling fast, were heard,</span>
<span class="i0">The sound increasing as the cloud drew near.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And round her now the glancing lightning flashed</span>
<span class="i0">In fearful mood, and made her shut her eyes;</span>
<span class="i0">The ground was black, the air a mass of flame.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Her trembling knees could scarce her weight sustain;</span>
<span class="i0">The thunder roared with a continuous sound,</span>
<span class="i0">Like torrent, plunging headlong from the cliff.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">At times she paused, the dismal scene to view,</span>
<span class="i0">In blank dismay; then on she ran again,</span>
<span class="i0">Her hair and clothes all streaming in the wind.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">The cruel wind beat hard against her breast,</span>
<span class="i0">And rushing fiercely, with its angry breath,</span>
<span class="i0">The cold drops dashed, remorseless, in her face.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0"><SPAN class="pagebreak" name="page171" id="page171" title="171"></SPAN>The thunder, like a beast, assaulted her,</span>
<span class="i0">With terrible, unintermitting roar;</span> <span class="i0">And more and more the rain and tempest raged.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And from all sides in wild confusion flew</span>
<span class="i0">The dust and leaves, the branches and the stones,</span>
<span class="i0">With hideous tumult, inconceivable.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">Her weary, blinded eyes now covering,</span> <span class="i0">And folding close her clothes against her breast,</span>
<span class="i0">She through the storm her fearful path pursued.</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">But now the lightning glared so in her face,</span>
<span class="i0">That, overcome by fright at last, she went</span>
<span class="i0">No farther, and her heart within her sank;</span></p>
<p><span class="i0">And back she turned. And, even as she turned,</span>
<span class="i0">The lightning ceased to flash, the air was dark,</span>
<span class="i0">The thunder’s voice was hushed, the wind stood still,</span>
<span class="i0">And all was silent round, and she,—at rest!</span></p>
</div>
<p class="central break">
<big>THE END.</big></p>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />