CONTENTS.

S fi nsar I . Epithalamion j e

Himself I I. To

II To Mas er An hon S afford Rando l k I . t t y t p

’ IV On the M orn in of hrist s . g C

Nativi ty m V . On Ti e

VI . At a Solemn Musi c .

The Praise f Pin VI I . o dar h ’ VI I I . C rist s Passion Cowley

’ ! n r mwe I . Upo C o ll s Return

from Ireland

! . To the Pio us Memory of Mrs.

Dryden

’ For St . Ce cilia s Day Dryden

’ Ale xan der s Feas t

For Music

On Nothin g

de s O , n r la Pris e de Namur, ' l An née 1692

An Ode on the Taking of

N ' amul , 1695 0

3 V’N m “ 5 42 4 a 5 45“ vi CONTENTS.

l PAG E I Mrs Arabella Hun n . XV . O t,

r n XVI I . O n the Sp i g

I I I The Pro ress of Poes XV . g y o

I The Bard X X .

! ! . The Passion s

X I To Eve n in X . g

On the Po ular u i XXI I . p S perstit ons

of the Highlan ds of Scot

lan d

Lea H ll XXI I I . O n vin g o an d

I The First of A ril XX V. p

B adicea XXV . o

In Imitation o f Al us !XVI . cae

X I I . In ima io n s of Immortalit XV t t y,

from Recollections of

Early Childhood

X I I I To D u t XV . y

s XXIX . To Lycori

Fr XXX . an ce

T l in XXXI . o an Indian Go d Co

I I To os e h Able tt L ande r XXX . J p

I I I To Win e r XXX . t

X I n i e B r on XX V . O Ven c y

T e Win d XXXV. o the W st

T k lar XXXVI . o a S y k T XXXVI I . o Libe rty T TS VII CON EN .

XXXVIII . To Naples

Ni h in l To a. a e XXXIX . g t g

! L O n a Gr e cian Urn

! LI To Psyche

To Au u mn K eats XLI I . t

XLI I I M elan choly

XLIV T o M e mory

! LV On the D eat h o f the D uke

o f We llington

XLVI T o the Un kn own Ero s

XLVII To Victor Hugo i n Ex i le

INTRODUCTION.

T is from the triumphal poems of Pindar that wé receive the impression that an o de must belong to an

o f enthusiastic and elevated order writing. There is nothing in Greek literature to warrant this supposition

ode dw an , from q , to sing, was simply a chant, a poem arranged to be sung to an instrumental accompan i

o f versification IS at ment . The origin Greek a subj ect

W f n ot tended ith great di ficulty and a little uncertainty, but the consensus of the best scholarship is in favour of a

r r ve y rapid development from the ea liest form pi gtrgphe,

r the regular distich , to the complete poem . A chilochus, it

r would seem, set ly ical poetry in movement by giving

s elegiac variety to the di tich, and by expanding it into an

. lc epode A man went further still, and was the first to gather together his diffuse numbers into an elaborate car

' men ode of n , or . The form ly c verse so invented took two

a directions . In the hands of Sappho and Alc eus it became

- w o moulded into certain simple, but highly rought, mel dic

n systems, and grew simpler still as it passed to A acreon

f od and the lesser ZEolian poets . This slighter form o e is what we generally call the Horatian , because the Greek IN OD UCTI ON' TR .

r r originals , which are known to us only in f agments, we e

or ff o familiar to H ace, and by him a ecti nately studied and

i . o r or o Stesi ch o ru s rev ved On the the hand , a D ian p et, , improved o n the ode o f Alcman by elabo rating a triple

stra /re an i istr o ke co movement, p answered by p and ncluded

e ode. S r a by the p imonides went fu ther still, and dapted this elaborate ode - fo rm to the newly -i nvented Do rian

Ter an der r m a music, which p and the othe Lesbian usici ns had created by grafting their soft Lydian airs u po n the

o N o rough stock of Doric popular mel dies . o so ner had the musical and poetical art o f Greece thus r eached its

o o r perfecti n, than Pindar arrived with his inc mpa able

r all genius, to exercise it in all its g ace and its maj esty . It is incorrect to think of a Greek o de without remember ing that it was always acco mpanied by that vi rile ” r o f o c Dorian ha mony, which Plat speaks in the La /233, the first tones o f which set the bloo d of the athlete fle e t

n ing through his vei s, and nerved his whole body with ambition . The character and form o f the ode depended on the

cal an imen t a a mgsj acg , although this was lw ys suhsi pfim hp n diary to the volume . Pindar speaks in o e

a o f of fo r o d pl ce a new sort music invented the e in hand . M o st o des were fitted fo r both W ind and stringed i n stru ments etiquette stepped in and provided the flute alo ne

o o in hymns to Cybele, and n thing but the majestic ph r

m was minx when Apollo was celebrated . When the poe N I TR OD UCTION.

to be chanted in a moving procession, the epode seems to

of o de have been omitted . But the as written in its full

r r m on e va iety by its g eatest aster, we can do little but c j c

’ r r ar t/i m am or r St alin tu e . Pinda s p , odes for vi gins, his ,

o r u r c r of gen ine dithy ambi odes in p aise Dionysos, his

m o enco iastic des , and all his other lyrical repertory, have

r o m o f o r pe ished , and we only p ssess so e his

e ac the 1t 0 o f i

. , a d h separa act metr cal. in enuity _ s g

of o . of n r o f rm The odes Pi da , so far fr m being, as used

r o r to be supposed, utte ly licenti us in their ir egularity , are

’ ‘ smore like the can zos and szrw n fas o f the mediaeval Trou

ba ur r do s than any modern verse . In each case the appa ent looseness and actual rigidity of form depend upon the exi ’ en ci e s o f 1 i g the mus c, which strained the poet s art to ts 7 m r hi o . utmost, yet never released f m its bondage At the revival o f learning the rules o f Greek versifica

r r l r o r tion we e ve y dim y unde stood , not understood at

x r r all, e cept whe e they we e illustrated by Roman practice . Hence the humanist poets contented themselves with

r o r ZEo lian w iting des, even in G eek, in those simpler

o o f measures, the f rm which Catullus and Horace had

r clea ly taught them . Pindar was recovered, indeed,

b ut recovered in such confusion that it was left for

Boe ckh o f o , a scholar the present century, t unwind x ii IN TR OD UC TION.

In lan his tangled strophes and antistrophes . the living

r guages, Italian was al eady well provided with stately

r r o f ly ical fo ms o f verse, the heritage to her the Middle

r r o Ages, and it was in F ench that the fi st modern des

r r 0 o r o r l we e w itten . In I 55 R nsa d published his igina o a c collecti n , with a qu int essay, in whi h he distinctly p o inted to Pindar and the Greeks as the source o f his

are r c inspiration. His odes, indeed , singula ly corre t ,

o o orm ro and even mon t nous, in f ; strophe , antist phe and

o o r r a o to epode f llowing in due de , without ttenti n what

o m o r r a o o f o f is alm st as i p tant, the va i ti n the length

r a . o diffe ent lines in each st nza Having justified, h wever,

o f r u ar r o by fifteen these eg l pieces, his dete minati n to i ” le m o v n ar a i n show yen de sui re Pi d e, he l psed into

o for r r o r m o f d lence the est of his life, and w te ea s poems

“ ” r c r that were only odes by c iti al cou tesy. His laxity, n ot v r f his learning, was imitated by a ious lyrists o the

r E F ench decadence down to J . J . Rousseau and scouchard L r eb un .

Befo re considering the history of this fo rm o f verse in the co untry which most has fostered it since the Renais

c r san e, it will be well to state what has been unde stood

o o de r c to c nstitute an , and what has been the p in iple o f

r o r an d the p esent selecti n . The e are many sweet tuneful c omp o sitions in English literature which were called “ ” od r c r es by their w iters, but whi h sca cely claim a

r ! place in our ga land. Of these the elegant lines, begin N I N TR OD UCTI O . ” of Barn field ning As it fell upon a day, which was so f long defrauded by the editors o Shakespeare, form an

o u t excellent example . Where the Lydian has so far

r shrilled the Dorian ha mony as in this case, it has not

to . w e been thought proper include the poem l take as an o de any strain of enthusiastic and exalted lyrical

o ro verse, directed to a fixed purp se, and dealing p

on e a gressively with dignified theme . The sole app rent

o de o f n ot excepti on , the humorous is really an

o h m i excepti n , for t is poe , in ridicul ng the bombastic

f o o pomp o Boileau , ackn wledges that such p mp is proper

o d n to an e under suitable circumstances . It has bee

o r d found impossible to admit the elegy, funeral o e ,

wrl tten B except in two instances, those y Dryden To ” o r o f the Pi us Memo y Mrs . Anne Killigrew, and by ” o o f the o f Tennys n On the Death Duke Wellington,

o f where the character the poems seemed , upon r efle c ' tion, to be encomiastic rather than elegiacal . Of the

o r o n e epithalamium, marriage ode, only example has I

W that the most sublime that occurs in this , o r perhaps in any language . It is difficult to say whether we owe this exquisite rhapsody to the Greek or to the Italian side o f the genius

O ; the n o W poem is unique, and had r m r tolerable imitato s . The i po ter o f the ode as we usually

r understand it wasm , whose st ong and manly

verse, sounding with a rude directness amid the lovely ' x i v I OD C IO N TR U T N.

s o f — for S a choru the euphuists, what was h kespeare — himself but the greatest of all possible e uphuists fell ? Lati n fo rmsf r M L naturally into rigid C ” Where his st enuous D ' r ‘ t h aw ffl genius had proceeded, though somewhat sti y, proved

too dense a medium for the steps of his disciples . The odes o f Herrick and his compeers lack shape and grace ;

m o f they ove with a series painful jerks, and cannot be

r u p ofitably revived in s ch a collection as the present . It

i fo r t o o de would be gratify ng, instance, reprint an like the

' M zldr ei ados o f r Quarles, if only to escue from oblivion such a strophe as this

0 hu t thi s light i s ou t ! w ha t w ahefi t l ey e ’ E e r m a r ked the r o r ess the u en z h p g of Q e of L jg t , R ahed w i thf u ll g lory i n he r a us t r i a n shy Un ti l a t len t i n he r ou n n oon o n ht g h, y g f ig , A sw a r t te m es tu ou s clo u o t r is e a nd r is e , p d d h , A n d hides he r lu s t r e f r om ou r da r ke n ed sight ven so too ea r Dea t t a t has n o ea rs E ly h, h en to su i ts i n he r sca r ce n oon o ea r s Of , f y , Das ou t he r l and le the t z hed ight f t en fi es t of ou r tears .

But the poet cannot be trusted : we glance across the page and find

L a i es let n ot ou r emu lou s st l d , y omachs swe l To e a r r ect n h pe f io cr ow n ed.

The only o de by a son o f Ben J onson which pres erves of throughout a Latin dignity style, is that by Randolph

ir ffo r to S Anthony Sta d .

“ o f h n The style , , V 0 mtg no less than his soul was like ” a a a star and dwelt p rt . His unrivalled odes were like IN TR OD UCTION . a

o f those octaves , which aurists tell us, which exist indeed, but are wound too high to stir the auditory nerve . They had no influence whatever till Gray appeared, their full

r influence was not exe cised until !hell!y began to write .

r f The ea o the seventeenth century, too dull to catch the

of r harmonies Milton , was profoundly moved by the coarse

r tones of Cowley and this rema kable poet, and still more r rema kable rhetorician, produced, by an error in criticism, a whole class o f poetry which flourished more or less

our o wn vigorously almost until times . While he was in

o exile with the Royalist c urt in France, he chanced to be in a place where the only book was a Pindar, which he

i o f read w th eagerness . It was printed, course, with no

old f an choral divisions ; and in the metrical con usion, d to an observer so little perspicacious as Cowley, the odes

r ha seemed to be fashioned in absolute i regularity . He d

r o de long p actised the Horatian , and now he was fired “ to imitate the Pindaric, that being as he conceived the noblest and highest kind of writing in verse but he did so by merely grvmg a lcw m m w f ’ r com 051t10n s or Pinda s elaborate p , _m W W W e attem t ven ”M ”p m the structure of the Greek W ”W cmmwn m W W st he an e ggp g t gt , His great contempo h h gp j rop d‘ — f raries even those who assistedehim in remodelling o u r — poetry refrained from imitating though they profusely

’ admired these shapeless pieces of Cowley s but before

d o he die , two very dissimilar persons, Norris of Bemert n x vi IN TR OD UC TION

l F mo and the Match ess Orinda, adopted the inda form in

all its triviality and uncouthness, but without any of those

o ccasional trumpet - notes that had r edeemed the languor

o f Cowley. And no sooner was he dead , than it became accepted almost to the ex clusion of all other lyrical

o f v ff forms verse, and e en QM was distinctly a ected

by it . 2

As employed by Lord Orrery, Aphra Behn, and their

o fellows, it became an instrument, the excessive facility f

r which, in untrained hands, was bewilde ing and blinding ,

h o f 168 S the to t e criticism the day. In 8, hadwell, new

o o f poet laureate, ad pted it as the form those anniversary

o f hi o fii e pieces by virtue w ch he justified his c , and the Pindaric o de remained the recognized costume in whi ch h a poet must approach his monarch until So uthey was

o f a permitted to divest himself these l urels in 18 16 .

on e r Meanwhile, about hund ed and twenty royal odes I of n ot o n e o had been written, which is a readable, r even m a tolerable, co position .

f r Outside the o ficial ci cle, the Pindaric ode scarcely

so r fell low, but its utte ances at the best were rather

grotesque . Perhaps the very best example written between Dryden and Gray is not on Saint ’ ” a Cecilia s Day, poem all sound signifying

r Mr sca cely anything at all, but M 33; On s. ” r Arabella Hunt, singing . Compa ed, not with the richer

of poetry a later age, but with the verse of its own taste i IN TR OD UCTI ON . xvi

. O and time, it is of an extraordinary merit The pening and the closing lines need no apology they are o f a very high order o f lyrical rhetoric ; and if we smile at the

f descri . visio n o Silence, we must at least admit that the p

of tion it is ingenious and vivacious, and as exactly in

’ the spirit o f the age as any on e o f Thorn hill s painted

ceilings . The name of Congreve must be lightly dismissed by

I to r on no one who essays w ite English odes . When he

r - fifth r had reached his thi ty year, and to the deep inju y

Of r ! literature had pe suaded himself to retire from its r m t r o p actice al ost en i ely, he came across an edition f

r fo r m r Pindar, and discove ed , the first ti e, the met ical

r sec et that ha Cowley and all his successors . Full of whimsical remorse for the shapeless pieces that 3 m o o o f he himself had written, he fell to the co p siti n odes

o r that were as nearly as p ssible faultless in fo m, the earliest written in English with the due distinction of

ro ro o st phe , antist phe and epode and m re interesting still, ” iscourse on r he published M the Pinda ique Ode, in

4 1 0 o 7 5, which is so s und and refined that it may well take its place as the finest fragment of poetical criticism that

our has Augustan age left us . This essay has fallen into entire oblivion ; even when it was published it passed abo ve the heads of r eaders accustomed to a more rough

and declamatory style of analysis, and the only result it pr oduced was that Ambrose Philips modelled his odes x viii INTR OD UC TION .

o n the tru e Greek manner Congreve recommended . Then the tide o f slovenly Pindarism swept them both w a ay . Twenty years later M un g made an attempt

r o de to eform the English , which was as grotesque

’ c o ar as C ongreve s had been s h l ly . The author of the ” ” o r u o o on Night Th ughts, in a idic l us Disc urse Ode, recommended the substitutio n o f a fixe stanza fo r the

ro of o m irregular st phes C wley, and himself e ployed this

r o l r n e w form in a se ies o f des . I is eform was received

o f u n with peal s la ghter, and it may even o w be amusing t o r eview what so so lemn a writer consider ed would be the best way o f enshrining sublime thought in majestic harmony

Ou r M on ar ch t e r e , h , R a i se i i n a i r d h gh , S ou l te n z es ts r i s e i s a in s to head h d p , d d L i e Bri ti s oak h h , De r i des the s t r ohe H i s bloom i n g ho n ou r s f a r ex ten d Ben e a t t e m li e s h h , Wi t li t e e es h f d y , F l i o [the a n a m or ou s maid a i r A h n , ; Whi le i n te r es t w i ngs Boldfi r e zgn hi ngs ke e a les to hi s shade TOfl y , li g , A t hi s f r au df oo t The sea ou r e ou t fl d , I mmor ta l n ou r i shm en t s uppli es T en ce w ea lt a n d s ta te h h, , a n d a e A n d flow er , f t , ’ ’ W h h u r e r eads in Geor e e es ic E op g s y .

INTR OD UC TION.

o Ak id the correctness f en s e did not insure his inspiration . That delicate sculpturesque grace which adorns his un rhymed pieces gives place in mo st o f these odes to a

d r . chilly, constraine , and painful hetoric The ode as

Aken side r Collins, Gray, and had seve ally conceived it, became a very popular form o f verse until the close of

u the eighteenth cent ry, and proved a great snare to all

o b persons of a pompous and b mbastic ha it. Twice at

ir . W olco t least, by S C Hanbury Williams and by Dr . , it was used in burlesque as a trenchant w eapon of offensive satire .

ode With the romantic revival , the serious became a less elaborate and sedate instrument in the hands o f a warmer generation of poets . All attempt to restrain it

o f r within the exact bounds G eek tradition was abandoned , and the odes of Wordsworth and Coleridge are as ab

’ l wn so utely irregular as Cowley s o . When Shelley came to wri te his the very meaning o f the

tten terminology had , that he commenced

on two with two epodes , passed to strophes, and then indulged in four successive antistrophes ! Keats reso lved

o de o f o the into a group stanzas, each exactly f llowing

n or o n the precedi g, and each more less like e movement o f ode of a W1thout an Pind r, but any attempt to reproduce

r our o wn the choral inte changes . In day, little has been attempted in this enthusiastic style, except by three

s . poet . Mr Tennyson, besides a fantastic piece of melody PI L O E THA AMI N.

' Wr i tten f or the poet s own wed ’ di n - da u n e 11 1 g y , 9 , 594 , a n d

SPENSER . u bli s e i n a vol u me w p h d , hich " a lso con ta i n ed the A mo r etti ,

i n 1595 .

e E learned sist rs, which have oftentimes 5

n V Been to the aidi g, others to adorn , Whom ye thought worthy o f your graceful rhymesfi ' That even the greatest did not greatly scorn h!

a To he r their names sung in your simple lays, g/ But joyed in their praise V

And when ye list your own mishaps to mourn,

’ o r or Which death, love, fortune s wreck did raise,

r Your string could soon to sadder tenor tu n, And teach the woods and waters to lament Your doleful drerimen t Now lay those sorrowful complaints aside

r irlan ds And having all you heads with g crowned, ’ Help me mine own love s praises to resound ; Ne let the same o f any be envide

o o wn r S Orpheus did for his b ide, So I unto my self alo ne will sing

The woods shall to me answer, and my echo ring.

B ’ - Early, before the world s light giving lamp

r His golden beam upon the hills doth sp ead,

’ dis e rst c Having p the night s un heerful damp, Do ye awake and with fresh lustihe d

o w o f Go to the b er my beloved love,

My truest tu1t le - dove

Bid her awake for Hymen is awake,

a And long since ready forth his m sk to move, w With his bright tead that flames ith many a flake,

on And many a bachelor to wait him, i In their fresh garments tr m .

Bid her awake therefore, and soon her dight,

F o r 10 the wished day is come at last, That shall for all the pains and sorrows past Pay to her usury o f long delight i And, whilst she doth her d ght,

of o Do ye to her j y and solace sing,

That all the woods may answer, and your echo ring .

Bring with you all the Nymphs that you can hear

o f o e Both the rivers and the f rests gre n , And o f the sea that neighbours to her near

irl n All with gay g a ds goodly well beseen . And let them also with them bring in hand

r Another gay gi land,

F or a o f i o f my f ir love, l lies and roses ,

- Bound truelove wise, with a blue silk riband . N Z‘ R SP E S .

o f And let them make great store bridal posies, And let them eke bring store o f other flowers

To deck the bridal bowers .

o And let the ground whereas her fo t shall tread ,

F or fear the stones her tender foot should wrong,

fi‘ a r an t Be strewed with g flowers all along,

dia re d o And p like the discol ured mead .

Which done , do at her chamber door await,

For she will waken straight, The whiles do ye this son g unto her sing

The woods shall to you answer and your echo ring .

o f w Ye Nymphs Mulla, hich with careful heed

The silver scaly trouts do tend full well, And greedy pikes which use therein to feed (Tho se trouts and pikes all others do excel

And ye likewise, which keep the rushy lake

Where none do fishes take ,

Bind up the locks the which hang scattered light,

And in his waters, which your mirror make,

a i Behold your faces as the cryst l br ght,

ou h That when y come w ereas my love doth lie, /

No blemish she may spy .

And eke, ye lightfoot maids, which keep the door,

on That the hoary mountain use to tower,

to And the wild wolves which seek them devour, With your steel darts do chase from coming near 17 1 S. ENGI. 3 ODE

Be also present here,

To help to deck her, and to help to sing ,

all . That the woods may answer, and your echo ring

for Wake now, my love, awake it is time

’ o Ti tho n s The rosy M rn long since left bed, All ready to her silver coach to clime

o o o And Ph ebus gins to shew his gl ri us head .

h o w r u Hark the chee f l birds do chaunt their lays, ’ o f o r And carol l ve s p aise . The merry lark her matins sings alo ft The thrush replies the mavis descant plays

' The ouzel shrills the ruddock warbles soft ; So goodly all agree with sweet consent

’ To this day s merriment .

a ov do Ah my de r l e, why ye sleep thus long,

w r a o n o w wa When meeter e e th t ye sh uld a ke,

’ m n o f ou o o T await the co i g y r j y us make,

r to r - r And hea ken the bi ds love lea ned song, The dewy leaves amo ng

o to o u For they of j y and pleasance y sing,

o r That all the wo ds them answe , and their echo ring.

n ow a o u t o f r My love is aw ke her d eam,

he r a r r mm r And f i eyes , like sta s that di ed we e

ar o n ow o o With d ksome cl ud, shew their g dly beams

More bright then Hesperus his head doth rear. o of C me now, ye damsels , daughters delight, Help quickly he r to dight

B ut r a r o r fi st come, ye f i h u s , which were begot,

’ o ra o f D a In J ve s sweet pa dise, y and Night

of r Which do the seasons the yea allot, And all that ever in this world is fair D o make an d still r epair

e r a r And y th ee h ndmaids of the Cyp ian Queen, ’ do or h e r a r The which still ad n be uty s p ide, Help to ado rn my beautifu llest bride

he r r o And, as ye ar ay, still thr w between Some graces to be seen

u se V to And, as ye to enus , her sing,

r The whiles the woods shall answe , and your echo

Now is my love all ready fo rth to come Let all the virgins therefo re well await

r o o And ye f esh b ys , that tend up n her groom,

r v fo r r . P epare yoursel es, he is coming st aight

e o r S t all y u things in seemly good array, Fit fo r so j oyfu l day

o f t un The j y uls day that ever S did see .

u n o r o Fair S shew f th thy fav urable ray,

n ot And let thy lifeful heat fervent be,

F or f r h r fear o bu ning e sunshiny face,

H e r r beauty to disg ace . O fairest Phoebus father of the Muse I ENGL SH ODES.

a If ever I did honour thee right,

o Or sing the thing that m te thy mind delight, Do not thy servant ’s simple boon refuse

h o n e da But let t is day, let this y, be mine Let all the rest be thine

r Then I thy sovereign p aises loud will sing,

a r That all the woods sh ll answe , and their echo

Hark how the minstrels gin to sh rill alo ud

r u r u r far Their mer y m sic that eso nds f om ,

o The pipe , the tabor, and the trembling cr wd,

That well agree withouten breach or jar .

o f do But most all the damsels delight,

r When they their timb els smite,

do c an d c r And thereunto dan e a ol sweet, That all the senses they do r avish quite

o The whiles the boys run up and d wn the street,

o Crying aloud with str ng confused noise,

r on e c As if it we e voi e, Hymen 10 Hymen l Hymen they do shout That even to the heavens their shouting shrill

fi m o : Doth reach, and all the r amen t d th fill

o To which the people standing all ab ut,

o As in appr vance, do thereto applaud , And loud advance her laud m And evermore they Hy en , Hymen, sing,

That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring.

ENGLISH ODES.

i r Her lips like cherries cha ming men to bite,

H e r r to o o f m b east like a b wl crea uncrudded , l Her paps like li ies budded , H e r snowy neck like to a marble tower

her a And all body like a palace f ir,

Ascending up, with many a stately stair,

’ ’ o ur To h no s seat and chastity s sweet bower.

r Why stand ye still , ye vi gins, in amaze

Upon her so to gaze,

or Whiles ye f get your former lay to sing,

To which the woods did answer, and your echo

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,

b o f he r v r The inward eauty li ely sp ight,

arn isht G with heavenly gifts of high degree,

o o Much m re then w uld ye wonder at that sight , And stand asto n i sht like to tho se which read

’ Medusa s mazeful head .

There dwells sweet love, and constant chastity,

o o m Unsp tted faith , and c mely wo anhood,

r m Regard of honou , and mild odesty

r r The e vi tue reigns as queen in royal throne,

e And giveth laws alon ,

c ff o To whi h the base a ections do bey, And yield their services unto her will Ne thought of things uncomely ever may

Thereto approach t o tempt her mind to ill . S S R PEN E .

Had ye once seen these her celestial treasures ,

And unrevealed pleasures,

u Then wo ld ye wonder , and her praises sing,

o . That all the wo ds should answer, and your echo ring

Open the temple - gates unto my love

r Open them wide that she may ente in ,

o o o And all the p sts ad rn as d th behove,

all i rlan ds r And the pillars deck with g t im, F o r to receive this Saint with honour due

o That cometh in t you . h With trembling steps, and umble reverence,

’ ’ he o r th m S cometh in bef e Al ighty s view.

r o Of her, ye vi gins, learn bedience,

o When so ye come int those holy places,

To r a humble your p oud f ces . th ’ Bring her up to high altar, that she may

ak The sacred ceremonies there part e, The which do endless matrimony make And let the roaring organs lo udly play The praises o f the Lo rd in lively notes

o The whiles, with hollow thr ats,

The choristers the joyous anthem sing,

l . That al the woods may answer, and their echo ring

o Behold, whiles she bef re the altar stands,

r he r Hearing the holy p iest that to speaks,

And blesseth her with his two happy hands, NG IS S E L H ODE .

How the red roses flush up in her cheeks,

And the pure snow, with goodly vermil stain, Like crimso n dyed in grain

That even the angels, which continually

r a r About the sac ed ltar do emain,

r c an d o h er Forget thei servi e ab ut fly,

r Oft peeping in her face, that seems more fai ,

on The more they it stare .

on But her sad eyes , still fastened the ground ,

o o m Are governed with g dly odesty,

f n ot on e o to w r That suf ers l ok glance a y,

o Which may let in a little th ught unsound .

Wh v v d y blush ye, lo e , to gi e to me your han The pledge of all o u r band ?

Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluia sing,

r That all the woods may answe , and your echo

Now all is d o ne bring home the Bride again

hom m h o f o ur victo Bring m p fi g gy g

r or o f h r B ing home with you the gl y e gain,

With j oyance bring her and with j o llity .

o u Never had man more j yf l day than this ,

Whom heaven would heap with bliss .

Make feast ther efo re now all this live - long day ;

This day for ever to me holy is .

o ut r Pour the wine without estraint or stay,

Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful, S SER I PEN , I

o ut P ur o to all that wull,

And sprinkle all the posts and walls with wine, w That they may sweat, and drunken be ithal .

God Crown ye Bacchus with a coronal , And Hymen also crown with wreaths of vine

a And let the Graces d nce unto the rest, Fo r they can do it best

n The whiles the maide s do their carol sing,

0 T which the woods shall answer, and their echo

l Ring ye the be ls , ye young men of the town; And leave your wonted labours fo r this day

This day is holy ; do ye write it down ,

m a That ye for ever it remember y . h This day the sun is in his c iefest height,

r ri With Ba naby the b ght,

r From whence declining daily by deg ees,

o o f He somewhat l seth his heat and light,

a When once the Crab behind his b ck he sees .

for - r But this time it ill o dained was,

To choose the longest day in all the year,

n And shortest ight, when longest fitter were

so Yet never day long but late would pass .

Ring ye the bells, to make it wear away, An d bonfires make all day m And dance about the , and about them sing,

o That all the woods may answer, and your ech 12 GLI D S EN SH O E .

! Ah when will this long weary day have end, And lend me leave to come unto my love P How slowly do the hours their numbers spend How slowly does sad Time his feathers move

O a Haste thee, fairest Pl net to thy home Within the western foam

e o f Thy tired ste ds long since have need rest.

o o o L ng though it be, at last I see it gl m, And the bright evening star with golden crest

ou f Appear t o the East . Fair child o f beauty glorious lamp o f love

of o That all the host heaven in ranks d st lead,

’ r ro r And guidest love s th ugh the night s sad d ead,

r o o ro o How chee fully thou l kest f m ab ve ,

se emst And to laugh atween thy twinkling light, As joying in the sight

fo r Of these glad many, which joy do sing,

r . That all the woods them answe , and their echo ring

Now cease, ye damsels, your delights forepast Enough is it that all the day was yours

Now day is done, and night is nighing fast,

r Now bring the Bride into the bridal bowe s .

o he r The night is c me, now soon disarray, And in her bed her lay

o Lay her in lilies and in vi lets, d An silken curtains over her display, SP R ENSE . I 3

’ o dour d And sheets , and arras coverlets .

how o Behold go dly my fair love does lie, In pro ud humility

Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took

on o r In Tempe, lying the fl we y grass,

Twixt sleep and wake, after she weary was,

Acidalian ro o With bathing in the b k .

No w o it is night, ye damsels may be g ne, And leave my lo ve alone And leave likewise yo ur former lay to sing

The woods no more shall answer, nor your echo

Now welcome, night thou night so long expected ,

’ o o o That l ng day s lab ur d st at last defray,

e o And all my car s, which cruel love c llected,

on e fo r Hast summed in , and cancelled aye

o o Spread thy broad wing ver my l ve and me, That no man may us see

And in thy sable mantle us enwrap ,

r r r o o rr F o m fea of pe il and f ul h or free .

a r to Let no f lse t eason seek us entrap, No r any dread disquiet once annoy The safety o f o ur joy

But let the night be calm and quie tsbme ; Without tempestuous sto rms or sad affray

ov Like as when J e with fair Alcmena lay, When t e bego t the great Ti ryn thian groom u LIS S. , ENG H ODE

Or like as when he with thyself did lie,

o And beg t Majesty . And let the maids and youn g men cease to sing

Ne let the woods them answer, nor their echo ring.

L o u et no lamenting cries, nor d lef l tears ,

n or Be heard all night within , yet without

Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden fears,

r B eak gentle sleep with misconceived doubt .

u a Let no del ding dreams, nor dre dful sights, Make sudden sad affrights

’ hou sefire s n or Ne let , lightning s helpless harms,

n or e v r Ne let the pouke, other il sp ights, m Ne let ischievous witches with their charms ,

a s n ot Ne let hobgoblins, n mes whose sen e we see , Fray us with things that be not

n o t r o wl n o t r Let the sc eech , the sto k, be heard

- Nor the night raven , that still deadly yells

e Nor damn d ghosts, called up with mighty spells No r griesly vultures make us once affeard ’ Ne let th unpleasant choir of frogs still crokin g

o Make us to wish their ch king. Let none o f these their dreary accents sing

Ne let the woods them answer, nor their echo ring .

- But let still silence true night watches keep,

That sacred peace may in assurance reign,

IS D S 16 ENGL H O E .

His pleasures with thee wrought . Therefo re to us be favourable now

’ o f b r o And sith women s la ou s th u hast charge,

o o r And generation g odly d st enla ge,

’ ff our In cline thy will t e ect wishful vow,

o r And the chaste womb inf m with timely seed, That may our comfort breed Till which we c ease our hopeful hap to sing

our . Ne let the woods us answer, nor echo ring

r And thou, g eat Juno, which with awful might

o f o The laws wedlock still d st patronise, And the religion of the faith first plight With sacred rites hast taught to so lemnise And eke for comfo r t often called art Of women in their smart

o Eternally bind thou this l vely band,

And all thy blessings unto us impart .

And thou , glad Genius, in whose gentle hand

r The b idal bower and genial bed remain, Without blemish o r stain

’ And the sweet pleasures o f their love s delight

o r an d With secret aid d st succou supply , Till they bring fo rth the fruitful progeny Send us the timely fruit o f this same night

r r And thou , fai Hebe, and thou, Hymen f ee, Grant that it may so be I SPENSER . 7

Till which we cease your further praise to sing

Ne any woods shall answer, nor your echo ring .

of And ye high heavens the temple the gods, In which a thousand torches flaming bright

r r r Do bu n, that to us w etched ea thly clods In dreadful darkness lend desired light

And all ye powers which in the same remain,

More than we men can feign,

ou t n Pour your blessi g on us plenteously,

And happy influence upon us rain,

r o s r That we may raise a la ge p te ity,

c n Which from the earth, whi h they may lo g possess

With lasting happiness, Up to your haughty palaces may mount

fo r r And , the guerdon of thei glorious merit,

r r May heavenly tabe nacles the e inherit,

S fo r to r Of blessed aints inc ease the count .

So let us rest , sweet Love, in hope o f this,

our And cease till then timely joys to sing,

n or our The woods no more us answer, echo ring.

S o f r ong made in lieu many o naments ,

With which my love should duly have been decked,

u Which cutting off thro gh hasty accidents, 0 18 IS ENGL H ODES.

Ye would not stay your due time to expect, But promist both to recompence

Be unto her a goodly ornament, And for short time an endless monument S N 1 7 ON O . 9

TO HIM SELF.

ccasi oned b the ai lu r e o the New I n n a comed O y f f , y “ n ever acted bu t m ost n e li en t la e b som e , g g ly p y d y , ’ ON ON the K i n s Ser e/an ts a n d m ore s u ea m i s be el J S . g q hly h d ’ ’ and en s u r e b othe rs the K i n s sub ects an 1 c d y , g j , 9 . 9,

162 . The ode w as a en d to the to . o 16 1 9 pp de 4 f 3 .

loathéd OM E, leave the stage, And the more loathsome age

Where pride and impudence , in faction knit, Usurp the chair of wit Indictin g and arraigning every day

Something they call a play.

Let their fastidious, vain Commission of the brain

on Run and rage, sweat, censure, and condemn ;

f r n o . They were ot made thee, less thou for them

’ Sa our s m y that thou p t the wheat, And they will acorns eat ’Twere simple fury still thyself to waste On such as have no taste To offer them a surfeit o f pure bread Whose appetites are dead G IS D S EN L H O E .

0 r r N , give them g ains thei fill,

f t o r Husks, dra f d ink and swill

o v If they l e lees, and leave the lusty wine,

’ v En y them not, their palate s with the swine .

o o o N d ubt some m uldy tale,

r Like Pe icles , and stale

’ r fish As the sh ieve s crusts, and nasty as his Scraps out o f e very dish

r Thrown forth, and aked into the common tub,

M ay keep up the Play - club

r do The e, sweepings as well As the best o rdered meal

F or who r the elish of these guests will fit,

- Needs set them but the alms basket o f wit .

’ And much good do t you then

B rave plu sh - and - velvet - men a Can feed on orts and, safe in your st ge clothes,

o a Dare quit, upon y ur o ths ,

an - r too The stagers d the stage w ights , your peers , Of larding yo u r large ears

r o u c o m With thei f l ic socks, Wrought upo n twenty blocks

Which if they are torn , and turned, and patched enough,

o u f The gamesters share your gilt, and y their stu f. L eave things so prostitute, And take the Alcaic lute

’ n o o r A n acre on s Or thine ow H race, lyre

’ Warm thee by Pindar s fire

r And though thy nerves be sh unk, and blood be

‘ Ere years have made thee old, Strike that disdainful heat

Throughout, to their defeat,

o v o f As curious f ols, and en ious thy strain ,

’

n n o . May, blushi g, swear palsy s in thy brain

But when they hear thee sing

r The glo ies of thy king, ’ His zeal to God , and his just awe o er men

o o - a They may, bl d sh ken then ,

- a o Feel such a flesh qu ke to p ssess their powers, As they shall c ry Like ours

c o r r In sound of pea e wa s,

’ No harp e er hit the stars,

o f n In tuning forth the acts his sweet reig ,

’ And raising Charles his chariot bove his Wain. 22 IS D S ENGL H O E .

TO MASTER ANTHONY STAFFORD .

r obabl w r i tten abou t 16 2 an d P y 3 ,

RANDOLPH . fi r st p ri n ted i n the pos th u mou s e i ti on o 16 8 d f 3 .

MB O , spur away,

I have no patience for a longer stay, w But must go do n, And leave the chargeable noise of this great town

I will the country see,

old c Where simpli ity,

Though hid in grey, Doth look more gay

Than foppery in plush and scarlet clad .

Farewell, you city wits, that are Almost at civil war ’ Tis time that I grow wise, when all the world grows

More of my days ’ I will not spend to gain an idiot s praise Or to make spo rt

- - For some slight puisne of the In ns of Court .

Then, worthy Stafford, say,

2 I 4 ENGL SH ODES.

My muse i s she

My love shall be . clowns get wealth and heirs when I am

And the great bugbear, grisly death,

S r hall take this idle b eath ,

a poem leave, that poem is my son .

Of this n o more ’ ’ r We ll rather taste the b ight Pomona s store . No fruit shall ’scape

l r . Our pa ates, f om the damson to the grape

’ Then (full) we ll seek a shade, ’ And hear what music s made How Philomel

Her tale doth tell, And how the o ther birds do fill the quire

The thrush and blackbi rd lend their throats, Warbling melodi ous no tes

We will all sports enjoy which o thers but desire.

r Ou s is the sky, Where at what fowl we please our hawk No r will we spare To hunt the crafty fo x o r timoro us hare ; But let our hounds run loose

’ In any gr ound they ll choose ; R A NDOL PH. 25

The buck shall fall ,

all The stag, and Our pleasures must from their own warrants

For s n o t to to my mu e, if me, ’ I m sure all game is free

of . Heaven, earth, are all but parts her great royalty

And when we mean ’ n o w To taste of Bacchus blessings and then, And drink by stealth

’ A cup or two to noble Barkley s health,

’ I ll take my pipe and try The Phrygian melody

Which he that hears, Lets through his cars

A madness to distemper all the brain . Then I another pipe will take

And Doric music make,

o To civilise with graver notes ur wits again. 26 ENGLISH ODES.

’ ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST S NATIVITY.

e un a t ambr id e on Chr is t B g C g , 2 at da mas mor n i ng , 16 9, y

b ak an d rs t u blis ed M I . r e LTON , fi p h , w i th two ol wi n odes th e f lo g , n 16 i 4 5 .

h n HIS is the mont , and this the happy mor , ’ on o f Wherein the S Heaven s Eternal King,

o Of wedded maid and virgin m ther born , Our great redemption from above did bring ;

F or o s the holy sages once did sing,

our That He deadly forfeit should release,

And with His Father work us a perpetual peace .

h o ff T at glorious f rm, that light unsu erable,

- of And that far beaming blaze majesty,

’ Wherewith He wont at Heaven s high council - table

o f To sit the midst Trinal Unity,

to He laid aside, and here with us be,

o r Forso k the courts of eve lasting day,

of - And chose with us a darksome house mortal clay .

Sa y, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein

Afford a present to the Infant - God ? 2 M IL TON . 7

or Hast thou no verse, no hymn , solemn strain,

o to T welcome Him this His new abo de,

’ Now while the heaven, by the sun s team untrod,

of n Hath took no print the approachi g light , And all the span gled host keep watch in squadrons bright ?

e e r S , how f om far, upon the eastern road,

T he star - led wizar ds haste with o dours sweet

run e m ode 0 , prev nt them with thy hu ble , And lay it lowly at His blessed feet

r r o r to e Have thou the honou fi st thy L d gr et,

d n An join thy voice unto the a gel quire, ’ ’ From out His se cret altar touch d with hallow d

T E YM H H N.

It was the winter wild,

While the heaven - born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ;

to Nature, in awe Him,

’ d ff d r Had o her gaudy t im, With her great Master so to sympathise It was no season then for her

r To wanton with the sun, her lusty pa amour.

Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with inno cent snow E L 28 NG ISII ODES.

on And her naked shame,

Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil o f maiden white to throw ;

’ o h er r Conf unded, that Make s eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities .

But He, her fears to cease,

Sent down the meek - eyed Peace

’ She crown d r , with olive g een, came softly sliding

Down through the turning sphere,

His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing ;

w he r m r And, waving ide y tle wand,

Sh s h o e strikes a univer al peac thr ugh sea and land .

’ 0 N war, or battle s sound, Was heard the world around The idle spear and shield were high up hung The hooked chario t stood

’ Un stain d with ho stile bl o od The trumpet spake n o t to the armed throng

sat And kings still with awful eye,

’ if sov r i n As they surely knew their e g Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night, Wherein the Prince o f Light His reign o f peace upon the earth began ; M IL N TO . 2 9

The winds, with wonder whist,

o r Smo thly the wate s kist, m Whispering new joys to the ild ocean ,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

o f on While birds calm sit brooding the charmed wave .

The stars, with deep amaze,

’ S fix d f tand in stead ast gaze, Bending o n e way their precious influence

n ot And will take their flight,

r F o r all the mo ning light ,

’ Or Lucifer that often waru d them thence ; m But in their glim ering orbs did glow,

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them

And though the shady gloom

om Had given day her ro ,

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed,

for And hid his head shame, As his inferiorflame

’ The new - en lighten d world no more should need He saw a gr eater Sun appear

o r Than his bright throne, burning axletree, could

on The shepherds the lawn ,

’ o f Or e er the point dawn , Sat simply chatting in a rustic row 30 ENGLISH ODES.

Full little thought they than , That the mighty Pan Was kindly come to live with them below

a o or Perh ps their l ves, else their sheep, Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy

When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet, As never was by mortal finger strook

Divinely- warbled vo ice

n s Answeri g the stringed noi e, As all their soul s in blissfu l rapture took

c The air, su h pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly

Nature, that heard such sound, Beneath the hollow round ’ Of Cynthia s seat , the airy region thrilling, Now was almost won

To think her part was done, And that her reign had here its last fii lfillin g She knew such harmo ny alone

Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union .

At last surrounds thei r sight

o A gl be of circular light,

’ That with long beams the shamefaced night array d

S 32 ENGLISH ODE .

And speckled vanity

c Will si ken soon and die, A nd leprous sin will melt from earthly mould

And hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering

c Yea, truth and justi e then

’ W o w r r m e n ill d n etu n to ,

’ rb r O d in a rainbow and, like glo ies wearing,

rc Me y will sit between ,

o a Thr ned in celesti l sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering

a v And he ven, as at some festi al,

Will Open wide the gates o f her high palace hall .

No But wisest Fate says , This must not yet be so

The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy, That on the bitter cro ss Must redeem ou r loss So bo th Himself and us to glorify

’ chain d Yet first, to those y in sleep, The wakeful tru mp of doom must thunder through the

With such a horrid clang

o S As on M unt inai rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds ou tbrake I N M L TO . 33

The aged earth , aghast f With terror o that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake ’ a r When, t the wo ld s last session,

dr ful ud e The ead j g in middle air shall spread throne .

And then at last ou r bliss

Full and perfect is, hi But now begins for, from t s happy day,

old o r o The Drag n, unde gr und

r In st aiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurped sway

to And , wroth see his kingdom fail,

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail .

The oracles are dumb, N0 voice or hideous hum

r Runs th ough the arched roof in words deceiving . Apollo from his shrine

Can no more divine, f With hollow shriek the steep o Delphos leaving.

r o r No nightly t ance, breathed spell,

n - I spires the pale eyed priest from the prophetic cell .

’ o r The lonely mountains e ,

And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament

D 34 ENGL ISH ODES.

From haunted spring and dale,

Edged with poplar pale, The parting genius is with sighing sent ;

- With flower inwoven tresses torn,

The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn .

In consecrated earth,

o n And the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint

In urns, and altars round , A drear and dying sound

’ Aflrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; thé l And chi l marble seems to sweat,

ul While each pec iar power foregoes his wonted seat.

Peor and Baalim

Forsake their temples dim, ’ With that twice- b atter d god of Palestine ;

And mooned Ashtaroth,

’ o r Heaven s queen and m the both ,

’ No w sits not girt with taper s holy shine

L bi r o The y c Hammon sh inks his h rn ,

In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn .

fled And sullen Moloch, , Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue ; M IL T ON. 35

’ In vain, with cymbals ring,

r They call the g isly king, In dismal dance about the furnace

o f The brutish gods Nile as fast,

do . Isis, and Orus, and the g Anubis, haste

Nor is Osiris seen

m r or In Me phian g ove green,

’ Trampling the un shower d grass with lowings l oud No r can he be at rest Within his sacred chest Nought but profo undest hell can be his shro ud

’ tim r ll d In vain, with b e anthems dark,

’ - w r hi d rk The sable stoled sorcerers bear his o s pp a .

He feels from Juda’ s land ’ d The dreaded Infant s han , ' The rays o f Bethlehem bli nd his dusky eyn Nor all the gods beside d Longer dare abi e, No r Typhon huge ending in snaky twine ;

o Our Babe, to show his G dhead true,

Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew.

o S , when the sun in bed ,

’ Curtain d with cloudy red,

v Pillows his chin upon an orient wa e, S 36 ENGLISH ODE .

The flocking shadows pale

to r Troop the infe nal jail,

’ Each fe tte r d ghost slips to his several grave

And the yello w - skirted fays

- - Fly after the night steeds, leaving their moon loved maze.

V r But see, the i gin blest Hath laid h er Babe to rest

o ur o o Time is, tedi us s ng should here have ending ’ Heaven s youngest - teemed star

’ ’ a fi x d olish d car H th her p ,

o r Her sleeping L d , with handmaid lamp, attending And all abou t the courtly stable

’ r - harn ess d B ight angels sit in order serviceable . M I L TON . 37

ON TIME .

’ n M ILTON li t en a t Ca zbr id e abou t 16 0 . . r i t g 3

o ut LY , envious Time, till thou run thy race

on - o Call the lazy leaden stepping H urs , Whose speed is but the heavy plummet ’s pace

o r And glut thyself with what thy w mb devou s,

Which is no more than what is false , and vain , And merely mortal dross

So o ur little is loss, So little is thy gain

’ n m d For when as each thing bad thou hast e to b ,

of n u And, last all, thy greedy self co s med,

r Then long eternity shall g eet our bliss ,

With an indi vidual kiss

A n d joy shall overtake us as a flood , When everything that is sincerely good

And perfectly divine,

r With t uth, and peace , and love, shall ever shine About the supreme thro ne

h - Of Him, to whose appy making sight alone g IS 3 ENGL H ODES.

o o ur v l - b When nce hea en y guided soul shall clim ,

u i Then, all this earthly grossness q t ,

r for v Atti ed with stars we shall e er sit ,

r u O T i mphingover death, and chance, and thee, time

S 4 0 ENGLI H ODES.

’ dis ro ortio n d As once we did , till p p sin

’ ’ arr d t J agains nature s chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made ’ 0 W v swa d T their great Lord, hose lo e their motion y

In perfect diapason, whilst they stood

a o f o . In first obedience, and their st te g od

O n w o , may e soon again renew that s ng,

And keep in tune with heaven, till God, ere long

To His celestial consort us unite,

n mom of To live with Him, and si g in endless light WLE Y CO . 4 1

PR O PI D R THE AISE F N A .

du r Wr i tten zn P a r i s, abou t 164 5,

OWLEY . i n the R o a li t ex i le an d f r st C g y s , y

p r i n te d i n the volu me of 1656 .

I . INDAR is imitable b none

hoen ix Pindar is a vast species alone,

’ Whoe er but Daedalus with waxen wings could fly

And neither sink too low, nor soar too high ?

lalm What could he who followed c ,

of But vain boldness the unhappy fame, And by his fall a sea to name

’ Pindar s unnavigable song Like a swoln flood from some steep mountain pours along The ocean meets with such a voice ’ o d n th . Fr m his enlarged mouth, as row s e ocean s noise

So Pindar does new words an d figures roll

d r Down his impetuous ithyambic tide,

Which m no channel deigns to abide, Which neither banks n or dykes control ; S 4 2 ENGLISH ODE .

Whether the immortal gods he sings

o r r i In a no less imm tal st a n ,

f - e Or the great acts o god descend d kings , Who in his numbers still survive and reign ; Each rich embroidered line Which their triumphant brows around

By his sacred hand is bound,

Does all their starry diadems outshine .

I II .

’ Whether at Pisa s race he please ’ carve in polished verse the conqueror s images

ft u or Whether the swi , the skilf l , the strong,

rown éd ar u c in his nimble, tful, vigoro s song ;

’ Whether some brave youn g man s untimely fate

In words worth dying for he celebrate, Such moumful and such pleasing words

’ ’ joy to his mother s and his mistress grief affords

He bids him live and grow in fame,

Among the stars he sticks his name,

r The g ave can but the dross of him devour,

’ ’ So small is death s , so great the poet s power.

IV .

Lo how ai r , the obsequious wind, and swelling ,

The Theban Swan does upward bear,

o f Into the walks clouds, where he does play, W CO LE Y. 4 3

And with extended wings Opens his liquid way ;

r Whilst, alas, my timo ous Muse

r c Unambitious t a ks pursues, D o es with weak unballast wings

o r About the mossy br oks and sp ings ,

’ - e About the trees new blossomed h ads,

’ n About the garden s pai ted beds ,

an d o r About the fields fl we y meads,

And all inferior beauteous things ,

Like the laborious bee,

F r o o f o little dr ps honey flee,

u And there with h mble sweets contents her industry . 4 4 ENGLISH ODES.

S ’ CHRI T S PASSION.

Fi r s t r i n ted i n the Ve r ses on O p C WLEY. o 166 f 3 .

O r NOUGH , my Muse, f ea thly things ,

r o b u t o f w And inspi ati ns ind, Take up thy lu te an d to it bind Lo u d and everlasting strings

o n a to And them pl y, and them sing,

a m o u m ful o The h ppy st ries, The lamentable glo ries Of the great crucified King

Mountainous heap of wonders, which dost rise Till earth tho u j o in e st with the skies T oo large at botto m and at t op too high To be half seen by mortal eye How shall I grasp this boundless thing P What shall I play 1’ what shall I sing ?

’ m r o f m r u o v I ll sing the ighty iddle yste io s l e,

r Which neithe wretched man below, nor blessed spirits

o ab ve, WL CO E Y. 4 5

m x a With all their com ents can e pl in ,

’ w o r i H o all the wh le wo ld s Life to die did not d sdain .

II .

’ o f I ll sing the searchless depths the compassion divine , The depths u nfathomed yet

’ o f By reas o n s plummet and the line wit,

To o light the plummet and to o sho rt the line H o w the Eternal Father did besto w His o wn Eternal So n as ransom for his foe

’ I ll sing aloud that all the wo rld may hear

r of r o r r The t iumph the bu ied c nque o ,

was r o c v How Hell by its p is ner apti e led ,

a And the great slayer, De th, slain by the Dead .

I I I .

Methinks I hear of murdered men the voice

’ x r r r co u Mi ed with the mu de e s nf sed noise, So und from the top o f C alvary ;

r u hi My g eedy eyes fly p the ll, and see ’ o o f Who tis hangs there, the midm st the three 0 ho w u nlike the o thers He ! Look how he bends his gentle head with blessings from the tree ’ Hi s r do g acious hands, ne er stretched but to good, A re nailed to the i n fhmou s wood And sinfu l man do es fondly bind

The arms which He extends to embrace all human kind . 4 5 ENGLISH ODES.

IV.

Unhappy Man, canst thou stand by and see All this as patiently as He ?

o Since He thy sins d th bear,

o wn Make thou His sufferings thine ,

n d w e e ro A p, and sigh, and g an , ‘ And beat thy breast and tear

Thy garments and thy hair, And let thy grief and let thy love Through all thy bleeding bowels move

’ n o t r r Dost thou see thy P ince in pu ple clad all o er,

o ro S Not purple br ught f m the idonian shore , But made at home with richer gOre Dost thou not see the r oses which adorn The thorny garland by Him worn ? Dost thou not see the livid traces

’ Of the sharp scourge s rude embraces ? If yet thou fe ele st not the smart

o o Of th rns and sc urges in thy heart ,

n o t u d If that be yet cr cifie ,

n on on s Look o his hands, look his feet, look his ide I

v.

oh 1O of Open, pen wide the fountains thine eyes, And let them call ’ Their stock o f moisture forth where er it lies For this will ask it all

4 s ENGLISH ODES.

U PON CROMWELL ’S RETURN FROM

IRELAND .

b l se bu r o aby compo d i n 165 4 , t M ARVELL P . n o r i n ted u n l 1 t p ti 7 7 6 .

w o r HE for ard y uth that would appea ,

n ow o r r Must f sake his Muses dea , Nor in the shadows sing

r His numbe s languishing .

’ Tis time to leave the b ooks in dust

’ ’ O th u n uséd ou And il arm r s rust, Removing from the wall

o f The corslet the hall. So restless Cromwell cou ld not cease

r o f In the inglorious a ts peace,

But through adventurous war

’ Urged his active star

- And like the three fo rked lightn ing first,

n urst Breaking the clouds where it was , Did thorough his own side His fiery way divide

’ For tis all o n e to courage high The emulous or enemy M AR V ELL . 4 9

And with such , to enclose

Is more than to oppose . Then burnin g through the air he went And palaces and temples rent ’ And Caesar s head at last

Did through his laurels blast. ’ Tis madness to resist o r blame

’ The face o f angry heaven s flame

And if we would speak true,

Much to the Man is due,

r r Who, from his p ivate ga dens, where He lived reserved and austere (As if his highest plot To plant the ’ Could by industrious valour izlimb

o r o f T ruin the great wo k time, And cast the Kingdoms old

Into another mould . ’ Tho Justice against Fate complain , And plead the ancient Rights in vain

o r r But those do hold b eak,

r or As men are st ong weak . m Nature that hateth e ptiness,

O r o Allows f penet ati n less , And therefo re must make ro om

r r a S r Whe e g e ter pi its come. What field of all the civil war E S 50 ENGLISH ODE .

Where his were not the deepest scar ? And Hampton shews what part

He had of wiser art .

Where, twining subtle fears with hope, He wove a net of such a scope That Charles himself might chase

’ br k To Cari s oo e s narrow case . That thence the royal actor borne The tragic scaffold might adorn Whi le round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands He nothing common did or mean

Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe ’s edge did try

N or called the Gods, with vulgar spite, To vindicate his helpless right But bowed his comely head D as . own, upon a bed

- This was that memorable hour Which first assured the fo rced power So when they did design ’ The Capitol s first line,

r A Bleeding Head, whe e they begun, Did fright the architects to run And yet in that the State Foresaw its happy fate M AR V 1 ELL . 5

And now the I1i sh are ashamed T0 see themselves in on e year tamed So much on e man can do

That does both act and know. f They can a firm his praises best,

And have, though overcome, confest

How good he is, how just And fit for highest trust ; Nor yet grown stiffer with command But still in the Republic ’s hand How fit he is to sway That can so well obey ! He to the Commons ’ feet presents

’ for A kingdom his first year s rents , And (what he may) forbears His fame to make it theirs And has his sword and spoils ungirt

’ To lay them at the Public s skirt . So when the falcon high

Falls heavy from the sky,

he S , having killed, no more doth search ,

But on the nex t green bough to perch, Where when he first does lure — The falconer has her sure . What may not then our Isle presu me While victory his crest does plume What may not others fear S 5 2 ENGLISH ODE .

If thus he crowns each year

a e re As C esar he, long, to Gaul,

To Italy an Hannibal, And to all states n o t free

The Pict n o shelter n o w shall find

r - o r Within his pa ti c lou ed mind ,

r m r r But f o thei valou , sad

Shrink underneath the plaid .

r Happy , if in the tufted b ake

n r The E glish hunte him mistake , Nor lay his hounds in near

o r The Caled nian dee .

’ ’ ar o But thou the W s and F rtune s son, March indefatigably o n

fo r f And, the last ef ect, Still keep the sword erect Besides the fo rce it has to fright

S r o f The pi its the shady night, The same arts that did gain

A power, must it maintain . R YD EZ D V. 5 3

O S MR THE PI U MEMORY OF S.

ANNE KILLIGREW.

' P r e x ed to the oems o A n n e K i lli r ew i n fi P f g ,

1686 . The ou n la a u te r or n i ece y g dy , d gh of

D RYDEN . t r ee dr a m a ti s ts w as a m ai o on ou r to the h , d f h D u c e ss o Yar h cu lti va te the M u ses a nd i e h f , d , d d

o s ma l ox i n her tw en - h ear f lp ty fi ft y , i n 1685 .

I .

- HOU youngest virgin daughter of the skies, Made in the l ast pro motio n o f the blest

m c r Whose pal s, new plu ked f om Paradise,

m o r r In spreading branches e sublimely ise, Rich with immortal green abo ve the r est

o om r Whether, ad pted to s e neighbou ing star,

a o r Thou rollst b ve us in thy wandering ace , Or in p ro cessio n fixed and r egular

’ o v m a M ved with the hea en s jestic pace,

to o r r or Or called m e supe i bliss, Thou treadst with seraphims the vast abyss

a Whatever h ppy region be thy place, Cease thy celestial song a little space

for Thou wilt have time enough hymns divine,

’ Since Heaven s eternal year is thine . Hear then a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse 5 4 ENGLISH ODES.

In no ignoble verse,

o wn But such as thy voice did practise here,

r When thy first f uits of poesy were given , To make thyself a welcome inmate there ;

While yet a young probationer,

And candidate of Heaven .

II .

n If by traduction came thy mi d, Our wonder is the less to find A soul so charming from a stock so good Thy father was transfused into thy blood

o u So wert thou b rn into the t neful strain,

(An early, rich , and inexhausted vein . )

But if thy pre - ex isting soul

r Was formed at first with my iads more, It did through all the mighty poets roll

o r Who Greek Latin laurels wore,

S c o And was that appho last, whi h once it was bef re .

0 - If so, then cease thy flight, heaven born mind Tho u hast no dross to purge from thy rich ore Nor can thy soul a fairer mansio n find Than was the beauteou s frame she left behind

or o f Return, to fill mend the quire thy celestial kind .

111.

r May we p esume to say that, at thy birth, New j oy was sprung in heaven as well as here on earth ?

6 IS S 5 ENGL H ODE .

What can we say to excuse o ur second fall ?

s V Let thi thy estal, Heaven , atone for all

am remains unsoiled , Unmixed with foreign filth and un de file d H er n . wit was more than man , her i nocence a child

V .

Art she had none, yet wanted none, For Nature did that want supply

o o f S rich in treasures her own, She might our boasted st o res defy Such noble vigour did her verse adorn

’ o bo That it seemed b rrowed, where twas only m.

o o o Her morals t were in her b som bred,

By great examples daily fed,

’ o f r l What in the best books, her fathe s ife , she read . And to be read herself she need not fear ;

r Each test and eve y light her Muse will bear,

u r Though Epictet s with his lamp we e there .

ve for lo e x rest Even lo ( ve sometimes her Muse p ) , Was but a lambent flame which played about her breast

o o f Light as the vap urs a morning dream,

So r f c r ex rest cold he sel , whilst she su h wa mth p , ’ ’ Twas Cupid bathing in Diana s stream .

V I .

m r o f Born to the spacious e pi e the Nine, One would have thought She Should have been content R I’ D E V D I . 57

To man age well that mighty govern ment But what can young ambitious souls confine ?

To the next realm she stretched her sway,

F or Painture near adjoining lay,

r A plenteous province and allu ing prey.

r A Chamber of Dependences was f amed,

r As conquerors will never want p etence, ff (When armed , to justify the o ence),

fief o f o And the whole in right P etry she claimed . The country open lay without defence

For r poets f equent inroads there had made, And perfectly could represent

The shape, the face, with every lineament, An d all the large demains which the dumb Sister swayed

All bowed beneath her government,

’ Received in triumph wheresoe er she went . ’ Her pencil drew whate er her soul designed,

And oft the happy draught surpassed the image in her mind . The sylvan scenes o f herds and flo cks And fruitful plains and barren rocks

o oo Of shall w br ks that flowed so clear, The bottom did the top appear Of deeper to o and ampler floods

o Which, as in mirrors, sh wed the woods

Of lofty trees, with sacred shades

c o f And perspe tives pleasant glades,

Where nymphs of brightest form appear, I S 5 8 ENGL SH ODE .

And shaggy satyrs standing near,

r Which them at once admi e and fear.

The ruins too o f some majestic piece,

or Boasting the power o f ancient Rome Greece,

Whose statues, friezes, columns , broken lie,

a o f And , though def ced, the wonder the eye

’ What nature, art, bold fiction, e er durst frame ,

Her forming hand gave feature to the name.

’ So strange a concourse ne er was seen before,

But when the peopled ark the whole creation bore.

VII . The scene then changed with bold erected look Our martial King the sight with reverence strook

n ot o r For, c ntent to exp ess his outward part, H e r hand called out the image o f his heart

r o f His wa like mind , his soul devoid fear,

- ou r His high designing th ghts we e figur ed there, m As when by magic ghosts are ade appear .

o o Our ph enix queen was p rtrayed too so bright, Beauty alone could beau ty take so right

S Her dress, her hape, her matchless grace, O l Were all bserved , as we l as heavenly face .

r m She With such a pee less ajesty stands, As in that day She took the crown from sacred hands

of Before a train heroines was seen , D R D E Y N. 59

In beauty foremost, as in rank the queen .

n to Thus nothi g her genius was denied,

l of But like a bal fire, the farther thrown, i St ll with a greater blaze she shone,

out on And her bright soul broke every side .

nl What next she had designed, Heaven o y knows To such immoderate growth her conquest rose O That Fate alone its progress could ppose .

VIII . h Now all t ose charms, that blooming grace,

- The well proportioned shape and beauteous face, Shall never more be seen by mortal eyes

- r In earth the much lamented vi gin lies . No t wit nor piety could Fate prevent Nor was the cruel Destiny content

To finish all the murder at a blow, To sweep at once her life and beauty too

But, like a hardened felon, took a pride

r To wo k more mischievously slow,

And plundered first, and then destroyed .

0 double sacrilege on things divine,

rob c h To the relic, and defa e the s rine But thus Or inda died : Heaven by the same disease did both translate

As equal were their souls, so equal was their fate . 60 GL IS S EN H ODE .

I! .

r o n Meantime, her warlike brothe the seas

r His waving st eamers to the winds displays,

And r vows for his eturn with vain devotion pays .

o ou a o r Ah, gener us y th th t wish f bear, The winds too soon will waft thee here

to o Slack all thy sails, and fear c me

o kn o wst o art r Alas th u not, th u w ecked at home . ’ o No m re shalt thou behold thy sister s face,

r m Thou hast al eady had her last e brace .

o o f ke n r But lo k al t , and if thou st f om far,

- a Among the Pleiads, a new kindled st r ,

r r r If any spa kles than the est mo e bright, ’ Tis she that shines in that propitious light.

X .

- When in mid air the golden trump shall sound,

“ To raise the nations under ground W hen in the Valley o f Jehoshaphat

o oo o f The judging God shall cl se the b k Fate, And there the last assizes keep F or those who wake and tho se who sleep When rattling b ones together fly Fro m the four corners o f the sky

’ o e r o are When sinews the skelet ns spread,

r Those clothed with flesh , and life inspi es the dead

The sacred poets first shall hear the sound, D ’ R I DEN. 6 1

And foremost from the tomb shall bound, Fo r they are covered with the lightest ground

a w o on And str ight, ith inb rn vigour, the wing,

r to . Like mounting la ks, the new morning sing

o r There thou, sweet saint, bef e the quire shalt go,

r r o f v wa to As ha binge Hea en, the y show, w The way which thou so well hast learned belo . 6 2 ENGLISH ODES.

’ O T S . F R S . CECILIA DAY

W ow mée r 2 2n r i tten f or N d, t o m u s ic 1687 , an d s e t by a n a me D r a /t i I t composer g . D RYD EN d fi r s ! apfiea r ed i n flze ’ volu me f D mden s ' o cellam es .

I .

nl ROM harmony, from heave y harmony This universal frame began When Nature underneath a heap

Of jarring atoms lay,

o And c uld not heave her head ,

u r ro The tunef l voice was hea d f m high,

r r A ise, ye mo e than dead . Then cold and ho t and moist and dry

r In o der to their stations leap , ’ o And Music s power bey.

r From harmony, f om heavenly harmony This universal frame began Fro m harmony to harmony

Through all the compass of the notes it ran ,

The diapason closing full in Man .

IS S ENGL H ODE .

V. Sharp violins proclaim

Their jealous pangs and desperation,

r Fury, f antic indignation ,

f an d of Depth o pains height passion, l For the fair, disdainfu dame .

VI .

oh ar t But what can teach, What human vo ice can reach

’ The sacred organ s praise ?

r o Notes inspi ing h ly love, Notes that wing their heavenly ways

To mend the choirs above .

VII .

Orpheus could lead the savage race,

r And trees unrooted left thei place, Sequacious o f the lyre But bright Cecilia raised the wo nder higher

her r v r When to o gan ocal b eath was given,

r r An angel hea d, and st aight appeared

r for Mistaking ea th heaven .

G RAND CH O RUS.

As from the p ow er o f sacred lays

r t o m The sphe es began ove, D R O Y EN.

’ And sung the great Creator s praise To all the blessed above ; So when the last and dreadful hour

r This c umbling pageant shall devour,

r on The trumpet shall be hea d high , d The dea shall live, the living die,

And Music shall untune the sky . 66 ENGLISH ODES.

’ A L E ! A N D E R S F E A ST ;

o n THE wan r MUS C , r o o I .

' Wr ztten f or the sam e day as t/ze '

r eced zn b ut i n 16 . A fi g , 9 7 c co r di ng t o D RYDEN . ‘ ‘ a u a ll n /z a n s t p o e mg z, d con clu e t/ze oe m a t a l a H d d p ze t . e

I . WAS at the royal feast for Persia won

’ By Philip s warlike son Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperi al throne H IS valiant peers were placed around Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound

’ o ( S should desert in arms be crowned . )

The lovely Thais, by his side,

S r ate like a blooming Eastern b ide,

’ o f In flower youth and beauty s pride . ! Happy, happy, happy pair

r v None but the b a e,

r v None but the b a e,

None but the brave deserves the fair. DR YD EJV. 6 7

cn o xu a ! Happy. happy. happy pair

o N ne but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

II .

imotheus n T , placed o high

Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touched the lyre

The trembling notes ascend the sky,

v i i And hea enly j oys nsp re .

o The song began from J ve,

Who left his blissful seats above,

S o f l ( uch is the power mighty ove . ) A dragon’ s fiery form belied the god

n Sublime o radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia pressed

And while he sought her snowy breast ,

r Then round her slender waist he cu led,

And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world .

The listening crowd admire the lofty sound ,

A present deity, they shout around

o A present deity, the vaulted ro fs rebound With ravished ears

The monarch hears, 68 ENGL I SH ODES.

Assumes the god,

ff n o d A ects to , A d n seems to shake the spheres .

CH ORUS.

With ravished ear s

ar The mon ch hears, m Assu es the god ,

f n o d Af ects to ,

And seems to shake the spheres .

I I I .

The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung,

r r u Of Bacchus ever fai , and eve yo ng . The j olly god in triumph comes

o S und the trumpets, beat the drums Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face

o . Now give the hautb ys breath he comes, he comes

c Bac hus , ever fair and young,

D rinking j oys did first ordain

’ are r a ur Bacchus blessings a t e s e,

’ Drinking is the soldier s pleasure

u r Rich the treas e,

a ur Sweet the ple s e,

Sweet is pleasure after pain . DR YD EN .

C HO RUS.

’ Bacchus blessings are a treasure,

’ D rinking is the soldier s pleasure

r Rich the treasu e,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet is pleasure after pain .

IV .

Soothed with the sound the king grew vain

’ Fought all his battles o e r again

r And th ice he routed all his foes, and thrice

slain .

Th e master saw the madness rise,

o r His gl wing cheeks, his a dent eyes

And while he heaven and earth defied ,

c Changed his hand , and hecked his pride.

r u He chose a mou nf l Muse, Soft pity to infuse

r r He sung Da ius g eat and good,

too By severe a fate,

a Fallen, f llen, fallen, fallen , Fallen from his high estate And weltering in his blo od Deserted at his utmost need

’ By those his fo rm er bounty fed ;

r x o On the bare ea th e p sed he lies,

r With not a f iend to close his eyes . ‘ 7 0 ENGLISH ODES .

o c o downcast looks the j yless vi t r sate , Revo lving in his altered soul The various tu rns o f chance below

And , now and then, a sigh he stole,

And tears began to flow .

CHO RUS.

Revo lving in his altered soul The va rious turns of chance

An d h , now and then , a sigh e

flow And tears began to .

V .

The mighty master smiled to see That lo ve was in the next degree

’ - Twas but a kindred sound to move,

For pity melts the mind to love .

o w a S ftly s eet, in Lydi n measures,

hi s Soon he soothed soul to pleasures .

an d War, he sung, is toil trouble Honour but an empty bubble ;

Never ending, still beginning,

r Fighting still, and still dest oying

If the world be worth thy winning,

r Think, 0 think it wo th enjoying

Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee .

2 ENGLI S D S 7 H O E .

And amazed, he stares around .

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise

See the snakes that they rear, i How they h ss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes

Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in hi s hand

Those are Grecian ghosts , that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious o n the plain Gi ve the vengeance due

To the valiant crew.

r r n Behold how they toss thei to ches o high,

How they point to the Persian abodes,

r of And glitte ing temples their hostile gods . The princes applaud with a fur ious j oy And the king seized a flamb eau with zeal to destroy

led Thais the way,

hi s To light him to prey, r e . And , like another Helen, fi d another Troy

CHORUS.

And the king seized a flamb eau with zeal to destroy ;

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

a . And, like nother Helen, fired another Troy R YD E D N. 7 3

VII .

Thus long ago, i Ere heav ng bellows learned to blow,

While organs yet were mute,

Timotheus, to his breathing flute

And sounding lyre,

or r Could swell the soul to rage, kindle soft desi e .

At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ;

The sweet enthusiast , from her sacred store,

r r Enlarged the fo me narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,

’ - With Nature s mother wit, and arts unknown before.

Let old Timo theus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown He raised a mortal to the skies

She drew an angel down .

G RAND CHORUS.

At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ' e The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred stor ,

r Enlarged the fo mer narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds, ’ Ix - f With ature s mother wit, and arts unknown be ore. 7 4

t Let old Timo heus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown He raised a mortal to the skies

She drew an angel down . M ULCRA VE . 7 5

C FOR MU SI .

P e t/arm ed a t Mef une ral of Hemy M U G A u rce ll t/ L R VE. ze m u si ci an i n Me n d P , , e Novemée r 16 qf , 95 .

OD C angels snatched him eagerly on high,

f . Joy ul they flew, singing and soaring, through the

sky, Teaching his new - fledged soul to fly

While we, alas lamenting lie .

o He went musing all al ng, Composing new their heavenly song

s d Awhile his skilful notes loud hallelujah drowne ,

o wn But soon they ceased their , to catch his pleasing sound .

s m o David him elf i proved the harm ny,

David, in sacred story so renowned No less for musi c than for poetry !

Genius sublime in either art, Crowned with applause su rpassing all desert

’ A man just after God s o wn heart If human cares are lawful to the blest

r Already settled in ete nal rest, Needs must he Wish that Purcell o nly might 5 ENGL ISH D S 7 O E .

Have lived to set what he vouchsafed to write F o r sure the noble thirst o f fame

r r With the f ail body neve dies, But with the sou l ascends the skies

r m From whence at fi st it ca e .

’ Tis sure no little pro o f we have

That part of us survives the grave, And in our fame belo w still bears a share

r r Why is the future else so much ou ca e ,

our m o f Even in latest oment despair, And Death despised fo r Fame by all the wise and brave ?

0 r o all ye blest ha monious ch ir, m Who Power Al ighty only love, and only that admire Look down with pity fro m your peaceful bower

r On this sad isle pe plexed,

r v x And eve , ever e ed

x o o f trifles With an i us care , wealth and power ; In ou r rough minds due reverence infuse

o For sweet melodi us sounds, and each harmonious muse .

’ r Music exalts man s nature, and inspi es

e s o r k High elevat d thought , gentle, ind desires . R ST R OCHE E . 7 7

ON NOTHING .

' F i r st r i ted a t A n tw e i n p n rp,

ROCHESTER. 1680 i mme i atel a te r /ze , d y f t

THING O , thou elder brother even to shade,

’ ’ r Thou had st a being e er the wo ld was made,

- fix d f And, well e , art alone o ending not afraid .

’ an d E er Time and Place were, Time Place were not,

r v S When p imiti e Nothing omething straight begot, Then all proceeded from the great united What ?

S r o f omething, the general att ibute all,

S r r r a eve ed f om thee, its sole o igin l,

Into thy boundless self must undistinguished fall .

d Yet Something did thy mighty power comman ,

’ And fro m thy fruitful emptiness s hand

Sn atcht b men , beasts, irds , fire, water, air and land .

e o r of Matter, the wick dest ffsp ing thy race,

flew r o m By Form assisted, f m thy e brace,

r And rebel Light obscu ed thy reverend dusky face . 7 8 NGLIS D S E H O E .

oi With Form and Matter, Time and Place did j n ;

Body, thy foe, did with these leagues combine

o n . To sp il thy peaceful reig , and ruin all thy line

- But turn coat Time assists thy foes in vain,

r - And, bribed by thee, dest oys their short lived reign , m a And to thy hungry wo b drives b ck thy slaves again.

These mysteries are barred from laic eyes, And the divine alone with warrant pries

Into thy bosom where the truth in private lies .

o f Yet this thee the wise may freely say,

’ Thou from the virtuous nothing tak st away,

of d And to be part thee the wicke wisely pray.

a a Great neg tive, how v inly would the wise

u Enq ire, define, distinguish, teach, devise,

’ Did st thou n ot stand to point their dull philosophies

I r or I : n ot r o f , , the two g eat ends Fate,

o f And True or False the subject debate,

That perfect or destroy the vast designs of fate,

W ’ hen they have racked the politician s breast,

s t Within thy bo om mos securely rest,

And when reduced to thee, are least unsafe, an d bes t.

S. 8 3 ENGLISH ODE

OD R S E, SU LA PRI E DE NAMU R,

’ NNEE 16 2 L A 9 .

To s/zow now close i s tke parody of ' ' B ozle a n s s t le F r en al: x t y , the te

Bo xLEA U. Iza s been p r i n ted t/te

' UELLE ( lod e et sazn te ivr esse

’ A nj on r d au i me f ai t la loi

/zast s N m h s da Per messe C e y p ,

’ N est- ee pas w as on e j e w is

c ur z tr u e sen/an te A c o e , o p , D es son s on e ma ly r e enf an te

Et w as Ven ts aites szlen oe , , f

ai arl do L u i Ye v s p or o s.

D an s ses chanson s i mmor telles,

mme an ai le audacieu x Co g ,

’ d n P i n dar e elen a t res ailes, I 8 1 PR OR .

AN F 16 ODE ON THE TAKING O NAMUR, 95.

D ULCE EST D ESIPERE I N LOCO .

r i n a ll r i n ted as a oli o O i g y p , f a m le t i n 16 bu t tbe r p ph , 95 , p e

n t PRIOR . se tex t i s taken f r o m tbe “ oem s o 1 18 as r evi sed b P f 7 , y

O d do n ot ME Folks are runk, yet know it So might not Bacchus gi ve you law

Was it a muse, O lofty Poet,

r of St . Or vi gin Cyr, you saw ?

’ r ? a Why all this fu y Wh t s the matter, That oaks must come from Thrace to dance

o Must stupid st cks be taught to flatter, And is there n o such wo od in France Why must the w inds all ho ld their tongue ?

u If they a little breath sho ld raise,

’ ’ s oil d Would that have p the poet s song, " ’ Or pufl d away the monarch s praise .

l Pindar, that eag e, mounts the skies While virtue leads the noble way i Too like a vulture Boileau fl es,

Where sordid interest shows the prey .

G 8 2 GLIS S EN H ODE .

M ai s 5 ma dele l re , fi y ,

’ ’ Si dan s l ar don r u m i n s i re o t p , Ta pen x su i vre mes tr an sports

Les eben es dos mon ts do Tbrace

’ ’ N on t r i on oiti on e n ofiaoo

La douceu r do tos accor ds.

Est -co Apollon et Neptu n e

r s u r oil Qn i sn cos r ot s o lon x ,

n com a n on s do For tu n e O t, p g , B dti cos mars orgu eilleux D o lon r en oei n te f ameuse

La Sambre n n ie ( 2la M ouse

’ D en d lo atal abor a ef f ,

' Et par cen t bon e/zos bor n bles

’ L ai r ain sn r oes mon ts ter r i bles

Vomit lo or ot la f , mort .

D ix mil/o o aillan s Aloides

Les bor dan t do toatos ar ts p , ’ ‘ D oolair s an loi n bomi oi des

Fon t petiller [ou r s r emparts Et do n s son sei n i nfi delo Par tout la torr o y r eoele

’ ’ ( In en r olan oor f p ost d s ,

ni soad i or an t n ou e Q a n p g so g f r ,

A n ioo n o n r o n g e se ava ce .

I D ENGL SH O ES.

’ o tos mu ra ll s Namu r , er/an t i e ,

’ adis la Grece out u n t an s 7 g , San s f r u it y ou les f u n er ailles

s s lu s ier s combattan s D e o p f .

’ Quolle ofi r oyable P u issan ce

’ A uj ou r d- lzu i pou fl an t s o uan ce P rote df oudr oyer tes mon ts ?

’ ' u l br u it u el en l on mr on n e Q o , g f

’ st u itor on erson n e C o 7 p p ,

’ iI n s Ou c est lo vain guou r do r o .

’ ’ o n doute oin t c est lu i - me N p , me

Tou t br illo o n lu i tou t est r o , y .

‘ D an s B ru x elles Nassau blomo

Commen ce atr embler pou r toi

n vai n l w it lo ' E i B atdzzo,

D esar mais doci le c es ldve,

’ Rango sou s ses éten dar ds E n vai n au Lion B elgi qu e ’ It w it ZA igrlo Ger man iqu e

Un i sou s les leo ar ds p .

Ploi n de la f r ayeu r n ou velle

’ D on t ses sen s son t agites P R I R O .

’ com ar d ro If Namur be p to T y,

’ Then Britain s boys excelled the Greeks

r o r m Thei siege did ten l ng yea s e ploy,

’ ’ We ve do ne ou r bu s n e ss in ten weeks . W hat godhead does so fast advance , With dreadful power tho se hills to gain ?

’ o r o f Tis little Will, the sc u ge France,

N o O o r f . g dhead , but the fi st men

’ m or x r o w r His tal arm e e ts the p ,

’ ’ To keep e v n Mou s s victor under And that same Jupiter no more

Shall fright the world with impious thunder .

r Our King thus t embles at Namur,

’ V o who r r Whilst iller y, ne e af aid is,

T o r r o n B uxelles ma ches secure,

O om r T b b the monks , and sca e the ladies .

r o After this glo ious expediti n, One battle makes the marshal great

’ He must perfo rm his king s commission Who knows but Orange may retreat ?

’ Kings are allow d to feign the gout,

’ Or be prevail d with not to fight

’ ho d o And mighty Louis p , no d ubt,

’ That William wou d preserve that right .

rom R PO F Seine and Loire , to hone and ,

’ ’ Se e ev ry mother s son appear 8 6 ENGLI SH ODES.

A son secou r s ii appello

’ Les peuples les plu s van tos

’ Ou s onorgu oillot lo Tago

’ D o l or u i r ou te on sos oaux , g

’ Coax - oi dos cfiamps oz) la n eige

’ ’ D os mar ai s do la A or vogo

[Vou mois con t/r e los r oseaux f .

M ais gu i f ait onfl or la Sambr e

‘ S u s l s u meaux 'a es o e j ofi y , D os f r oids tor r en s do D ecembr o ' m s ar tout son t n o o Les c/za p p y s .

’ ’ ’ Gor es s onf u it oplor oo

’ D e z'ai r on pr oyo cl B or oe

’ ’ u rets d o ics c/zar es Sos g e p g . Et sou s les u rn os f angousos D os IIyades or ageu ses ’ ’ o s s t e ors u bm r es T ut o r s s e g .

D e lo oz tou tos z'os r a es p y g ,

P r i n ces ven ts eu les i mats , , p p , fi ,

Ramassez tous n os n u a es g ,

Ro ssombloz tous vos soldats

8 8 LIS S ENG H ODE .

’ M algre vous Namu r on poudro ’ S en va tombor sou s la f ou dr o

u i domta Lille Cou rtr a Q , y ,

Gan d la su or bo Es a n ole , p p g ,

Sai n t Omor B osan on D blo , p , ,

’ ‘M astr i t ot amb I res clz C ra . p , , y

' ’ M os pr esages s accomplisson t

Il commen ce d cnan color :

Sous les coups gu i r eten ti ssen t

’ ’ ’ m v Sos ars s on on t s ocr oulor .

M ar s on f ou gui les domi n o Souflo d gr an d br u it lou r r u i n o

E t les bombos dan s les ai r s

ll r l A an t c/i o clt or o tan n er o,

Semblen t t mban t su r la to o rro,

’ V ul r s ou vri r l o oi es enf er s .

assau B vier e A ccourez, N , a ,

’ D o cos M u rs l u n igu e espoi r ” A con vert a u n o r i vior o

Ven oz vous ou vez tou t voi r . , p

Vo oz r im er su r cos r oclzos y , g p Cos atnlotos bolli guoux

x do n s la m Et dan s les oau , fl am o P RIOR .

But Ypres, Maestricht and Cambray,

St. L l Besancon, Ghent, Omers, ys e,

Cou rtra 61 - e y and D e, y critics, say, How poor to this was Pindar’s style ’ ’ With eke s and also s tack thy strain ,

Great bard and sing the deathless prince,

Who lost Namur the same campaign,

’ lu der d D e n He bought Dixmude, and p n y se .

’ d I ll hold ten pound, my ream is out, I ’ d tell it you, but for the rattle Of those confounded drums no doubt ’ Yon bloody rogues intend a battle . Dear me a hundred thousand French

’ With terror fill the n eighb rin g field

on While William carries the trench ,

’ Till both the town and castle yield .

’ Vill Boufllers roy to should advance , ’ Says Mars , through cannons mouths in fire

on e r o f Id est, ma eschal France

’ n o Tells t other, he can come nigher.

Regain the lines the shortest way,

’ Vill ro o r V y, to ersailles take post ’ F r o , having seen it, thou can st say

The steps , by which Namur was lost .

vex th The smoke and flame may , y sight ;

Look not once back but , as thou goest, 0 S 9 ENGLI H ODES.

’ Louis d tout don n an t l ame,

M a c u e oux . r /tor , co r i r av c

' Con templez dan s la tempete

u do cos bou levar ds Q i sort , La plu me gu i su r sa tote

tti ro tous les r o ard s A g .

A cot astro r edou tablo

Touj ou rs n u sort f avorable

’ S attacbo dan s les combats

Et touj ou r s avec la gloi r e

M ars amen an t la victoi re

Vole t lo su it ( 2 r an ds as , o g p .

' ’ Gr an ds dc en sou r s do l Es a n o fi p g ,

[Man tras - vou s il on est tem s , p ,

Cou r a e vor s la M aba g , gn o

Voila) vos dra eaux otta p fl n s.

7 amais sos on dos cr ai n ti vos

" N on t vu su r leu rs f oibles r ivos

' ’ To u t do u or mer s s a g massor .

Couroz don e . Qu i vous r etardo

’ Tou t l u n i vors vou s r e ar d g e. ’ N osez- vous la traver ser ?

L oi n dof or mer lopassage

A vos n ombr eu x ba taillon s,

' 2 N IS D S 9 E GL H O E .

Lu x embou rg a du r i vago

’ ocu lo sos avill ns R p o . Qu oi ? leu r so ul aspect vous glace

‘ ’ Ou son t cos cno/Zs plei n s d au dace

adis si r om ts d mar cnor f p p , Qu i devoi en t do la Tami so

Et do la D r dvo soumise

’ 7 asga d P aris n ou s clzorcbor ?

’ Cepen dan t l efroz r edo uble

Sur les rem ar ts do Namu r p . Son gou ver n eu r ou t so tr ou ble

’ S en u it sous son dor n i or u r f m . D ej é j u sgnos ( 2sos por tos ‘ o voi s men tor n os conor tes j , La j lamme ot lof or on mai n

Et sur les mon ceau x do i u os p q ,

D o coi s mor ts do r ocs do br i ues p , , g ,

’ S o v r u lar e /i om n u ri n g c i .

’ ' ’ t ait C en os f . 7 o vien s d en to ndro Su r cos r oc/zor s oipor dus B att re u n sign al pou r so rendre

u Loj o cosso. Ils son t ron dus . PRIOR . 93

’ off brush d o o Yet they , b th f ot and horse. ‘ Nhat has friend B o ileau left to say ?

’ When his high muse is bent upon t

To sing her king, that great commander,

on o r o f o Or the sh es Hellesp nt,

v S a Or in the alleys near c mander,

o h l S Would it not sp il noble task , If any foolish Phrygian there is

Impertinent enough to ask, H ow far Namur may be from Paris P

wo T stanzas more before we end,

c Of death , pikes, ro ks, arms , bricks and

’ o r Leave em behind you, h nest f iend

r r - And with you count y men retire .

o de o Your is sp ilt, Namur is freed For D ixmuyd something yet is due So good Count Guiscard may proceed

B flle rs Sir on e But ou , , word with you .

’ O Tis done . In sight f these commanders ,

Wh o n or neither fight, raise the siege

f r The foes o F ance march safe through Flanders,

v o r to . Di ide to Bruxelles, Liege

S m r end, Fa e, this news to T ianon, That Boufflers may new honours gain G IS 9 4 EN L H ODES.

' D e ozlilloz votr e ar ro an c p g e,

ie s n n emis do l F r e a F r an co,

Et desar mai s r acie ux g ,

A llez d Lie e d B r ux ell s g , e ,

P or ter les bu mbles n ou velles i D e Namu r pris ( vos ycux .

IS S ENGL H ODE .

MR . B L ON S ARA E LA HUNT, SINGING .

Fi r s t r i n ted i n tlce r d vol . o p , 3 f ’ ' ” ONGREV E . D r den s M isce llan zos i n C y ,

1693.

I .

’ hush d ft ET all be , each so est motion cease,

’ Be ev ry loud tumultuous thought at peace ,

’ And ev ry ruder gasp o f breath

r o f Be calm, as in the a ms death

o s And th u, most fickle, most unea y part,

r r Thou restless wande er, my hea t, ! Be still gently, ah gently, leave,

Thou busy, idle thing, to heave S d tir not a pulse and let my bloo ,

r That tu bulent unruly flood, Be softly staid

all Let me be , but my attention , dead .

r O Go, rest, unnecessa y springs f life, Leave your O ffici ous to il and strife

F or ou I w ld hear her voice, and try

o If it be p ssible to die . CONGRE VE . 97

II .

ll - Come, a ye love sick maids and wounded swains,

And listen to her healing strains .

A wondrous balm between her lips she wears, ’ o r i n o r r Of s v e g f ce to soften ca es,

’ ’ r v e ar And this th o e ry she can impart,

’ ’ u r diffus d (By tunef l b eath ) to ev ry heart.

arm Swiftly the gentle ch er flies,

o o air And t the tender grief s ft applies, Which warbling mystic sounds

’ b a Cements the leeding p nter s wounds .

’ r O clam rou s But, ah bewa e f moan Let n o unpleasing murmur o r harsh groan Your slighted loves declare ;

’ te n d re st Your very moving sighs forbear,

’ F o r to o b oi st rous r even they will be he e .

cr Hither let nought but sa ed silence come,

And let all saucy praise be dumb .

III . ! h And, lo silence imself is here ; Methinks I see the midnight God appear

’ I n all o m arra d , his d wny po p y ,

’ Behold the r e v re n d shade

c u An an ient sigh he sits pon ,

o Whose memo ry o f so und is l ng since gone, And purposely annihilated for his throne H 98 ENGLI SH ODES .

Beneath two soft transparent clouds do meet, In which he seems to sink his softer feet

’ o con den s d A melanch ly thought, to air,

S o tolen fr m a lover in despair, Like a thin mantle serves to wrap In fluid fo lds his vi sionary shape

r O A w eath f darkness round his head he wears , Where curling mists supply the want o f hairs

i o r Wh le the still vap urs , which f om poppies rise,

Bedew his hoary face and lull his eyes .

IV. ’ r h av n l But, ha k the e y sphere turns round , And silence now is drown’d

u In ecstasy of so nd .

’ harm d How on a sudden the still air is c , ’ As if all harmony were just alarm d ’ ’ o fill d And ev ry soul, with transp rt , l h ’d ’ Alte m ate y is t aw and chill d . ’ Se e how the h eav n ly choir

Come flocking to admire, And with what speed and care Descending angels cut the thinnest air th’ Haste then , come all immortal throng, And listen to her song

’ lov d o Leave your mansi ns in the sky,

And hither, quickly hither, fly roo G IS EN L H ODES.

S ON THE PRING .

Tbc or igi n al ti tlo of tbi s ode was ” oon ti e I t w as com ose a t N d . p d

GRAY . Stone o es ea r l i n 1 2 a ea r o P g y 7 4 , y f r ea t ecu n i t w i t}; Gr a a n d w g f d y y , as

r i n ted b D ods lo i n 1 2 p y y 7 5 .

O ro - o m where the sy bos ed Hours , L ’ V ra r Fair enus t in , appea ,

o - x c Disclose the l ng e pe ting flowers, And wake the purple year

r o u r r a The Attic wa bler p s her th o t,

’ e u c o o R sponsive to the c ko s n te, The untaught harmony Of Spring ;

r While, whispe ing pleasure as they fly, Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky

Their gathered fragrance fling .

' ’ Where er the o ak s thick branches stretch

a r a A bro der b owner sh de,

’ VVhe re e r the rude and moss - grown beech

’ O e rcan o ies a p the gl de,

’ Beside some water s rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit and think (At ease reclined in r ustic state) How vain the ardour of the crowd,

H o w low are , how little the proud, How indigent the gr eat !

Still is the toiling hand of Care ; The panting herds repose

r ho w Yet ha k , through the peopled The busy murmur glows !

on The insect youth are the wing,

to o r Eager taste the h neyed sp ing, An d float amid the liqu id noo n

’ o e r r Some lightly the cur ent skim, Some Show their gaily gilded trim

- n Quick glanci g to the sun .

’ To Co ntemplation s sober eye Such is the race o f Man

r h And they that c eep , and t ey that fly,

S r hall end whe e they began . Al ike the Busy and the Gay

’ But flutter through life s little day,

’ In Fortune s varying colours d rest

r of B ushed by the hand rough Mischance,

Or chilled by Age, their airy dance

r They leave, in dust to est . Methinks I hear, in accents low, The Sportive kind r eply Po o r moralist and what art thou ? A solitary fly

r Thy joys no glitte ing female meets,

O O s N hive hast thou f hoarded sweet , NO painted plumage to display On hasty wings thy youth is flown

Thy sun is set, thy Spring is gone ’ ” We frolic while t is May.

10 GL I D 4 EN SH O ES.

And frantic Passions hear thy soft control .

’ On Thracia s hills the Lor d Of War

r r o f car Has cu bed the fu y his ,

r h a at And d opped his t irsty l nce thy command . Perching on the sceptred hand

r Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathe ed king With ruffled plumes and flagging wing Quenched in dark clo uds Of slumber lie

The terror of his beak , and lightnings of his eye .

I . 3. O Thee the voice, the dance, bey,

r ‘ Tempered to thy wa bled lay .

’ ’ O er Idalia s velvet green

The ro sy - crowned Loves are seen

’ On Cytherea s day

W S - ith antic ports and blue eyed Pleasures, Frisking light in frolic measures

r Now pu suing, now retreating, Now in ci rcling troops they meet

To brisk notes in cadence beating,

- w Glance their many t inkling feet . Slow melting strains their Queen ’s approach declare

’ Where er she turns, the Graces homage pay .

With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In glidin g state she wins he r easy way

’ a m O er her w rm cheek , and rising boso , move

The bloom Of young Desire and purple light of Love . GRA Y. 10 5

1 II . . Man ’s feeble race what ills await

of Labour, and Penury, the racks Pain ,

’ r Disease and So row s weeping train ,

o f And Death, sad refuge from the storms Fate

o The f nd complaint, my song, disprove,

o f And justify the laws Jove .

Sa a y, has he given in v in the heavenly Muse ?

Night and all her sickly dews,

r r o f Her spect es wan, and bi ds boding cry, He gives to ran ge the dreary sky Till down the eastern cliffs afar

’ ’

r t h litt rin S of war. Hyperion s ma ch ey spy, and g g hafts

2 II . .

m ar In cli es beyond the sol road , ’ W o e r i ce - here shaggy forms built mountains roam, The Muse has bro ke the twilight gloo m

’ TO cheer the shivering native s du ll abode.

o ft o And , beneath the dorous shade

’ o Of Chili s boundless f rests laid,

She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat,

In loose numbers wildly sweet,

a r - Their fe the ed cinctu red chiefs and dusky loves .

’ r r o o Her t ack, whe e er the g ddess r ves,

o Glory pursue, and gener us shame , ’ o The unconquerable Mind, and Freedom s h ly flame . 106 LI ENG SH ODES.

II . 3. ‘ ’ ’ Vl o ods o e r e , that wave D lphi s steep,

r a Isles that c own the M p” deep ,

Fields that cool Ilissus laves,

’ Or where Maean der s amber waves

r lab rifiths e In linge ing y cr ep,

H o w do your tuneful echoes languish, Mute but to the vo ice Of anguish Where each Old poetic mountain Inspiration breathed around Every shade and hallo wed fountai n Murmured deep a solemn sound

’ Till the sad Nine, in Greece s evil hour, f L Left their Parnassus o r the atian plains .

o o f Alike they scorn the p mp tyrant Power,

V in And coward ice, that revels her chains. m When Latiu had her lofty spirit lost,

- They sought, O Albion next thy sea encircled coast .

1 III . .

Far from the sun and summer gale,

’ r n In thy green lap was Natu e s Darli g laid,

What time, where lucid Avon strayed, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awfu l face the d auntless child

Stretched forth his little arms and smiled .

This pencil take (she said) , whose colours

10 8 ENGLISH ODES.

Wakes thee n ow ? Though he inherit

No r r m the p ide, nor a ple pinion ,

That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme domini o n Through the azure deep o f air Yet o ft before his infant eyes would run ’ o r Such f ms as glitter in the Muse s ray, With O rient hues unborrowed Of the sun Yet shall he mount and keep his distant way m O Beyond the li its f a vulgar fate, — Beneath the Good how far but far above the Great . RA V 0 O . 1 9

THE BARD .

Tit o Ba r w iri cnwas a lon time i n b an d d, g , w as n o t completed u n ti l t/ze spr i ng of 1 I n n l o t a t 7 5 7 . 7 y f h y ea r Gr ay br ought GRAY. this poem a n d tire pr ece di ng 7 to L on d on a n d lea t/ze m , d p r i n ted ?y Hor ace lVa l olo a t St a b p r w or i H i ll.

I . 1.

u UIN seize thee, r thless King ! l Con fusi on on thy banners wait ’ u r o Tho gh fanned by Conquest s c ims n wing,

They mock the air with idle state .

’ Helm, nor hauberk s twisted mail,

r Nor even thy virtues , Ty ant, shall avail

To o ro save thy secret s ul f m nightly fears,

’ ’ m ambria s ro C amb ria s Fro C curse , f m tears

’ Such were the so unds that o e r the crested pride

w r r Of the first Ed a d scatte ed wild dismay,

’ As do wn the steep of Snowdon s shaggy side

o m He wound with t ilso e march his long array .

’ Stout Glo ster stood aghast in speechless trance

rm To a s cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering

lance.

2 I . .

o On a rock , whose haughty br w

’ ’ o er O Frowns ld Conway s foaming flood, 11 IS S 0 ENGL H ODE .

r f Robed in the sable ga b O woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood (Loose his beard and hoary hair

Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air) .

’ ’ r And with a master s hand, and p ophet s fire,

r o o f r St uck the deep s rrows his ly e .

o ak Hark, how each giant and desert cave

’ Sighs to the torrent s awfii l voice beneath

’ ! ar O er thee, 0 King their hundred ms they wave, Revenge o n thee in hoarser murmurs breathe

’ V n o amb ria s ocal more since C fatal day,

’ ’ - Ho l r t . To high born e s harp , o sof Llewellyn s lay

I . 3.

’ Cadwallo s Co ld is tongue , That hushed the stormy main Brave U rien sleeps upon his craggy bed

Mountains , ye mourn in vain d i Modre , whose mag c song

Made huge Plin limmon b ow his cloud - topped

’ Arvon s r On dreary sho e they lie,

Smeared with gore, and ghastly pale

’ Far o th ff r , far alo f a righted avens sail

a The f mished eagle screams, and passes by.

o m o o f u Dear l st co pani ns my t neful art,

Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes,

dr Dear as the ruddy ops that warm my heart,

GLI D S EN SH O E .

o ar ffo N pitying he t , no eye a rd

r o u A tear to g ace his bseq ies . Is the sable warrio r fled

Th n . y so is gone . He rests among the dead

th r The swarm, that in y noontide beam we e born ?

r o Gone to salute the ising m rn .

i a m o m o l Fa r l ughs the , and s ft the zephyr b ows ,

’ While proudly riding O er the azure r ealm

In r m v gallant t i the gilded essel goes,

u on Yo th the prow, and Pleasure at the helm

’ r r w Rega dless of the sweeping whi l ind s sway,

r . That, hushed in g im repose, expects his evening prey

II . 3. k Fill high the spar ling bowl ,

t r The rich repas p epare,

O be Reft f a crown, yet may share the feast Close by the r egal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl ffl A balefu l smile upon their ba ed guest .

o f Heard ye the din battle bray,

to o r to r ? Lance lance, and h se ho se

f vo Long years o ha ck urge their destined course,

r r And thro ugh the kind ed squad ons mow their way . ’ r o Ye towe s o f Julius, Lond n s lasting shame,

m r With many a foul and idnight mu der fed ,

’ ’ o r a Revere his cons t s faith , his f ther s fame, RA 11 G Y. 3

’ S And pare the meek usurper s holy head .

r f o Above, below, the ose o sn w,

foe Twined with her blushing , we spread The bristled Boar in infant gore

Wallows beneath the thorny shade.

’ ’ r th Now, brothe s, bending o er accursed loom,

S m our ta p we vengeance deep , and ratify his doom .

1 III . . ! Edward, lo to sudden fate

(Weave we the woof. The thread is spun)

o f Half thy heart we consecrate .

r (The web is wove . The wo k is done . )

O n or o r Stay, h, stay ! thus f lorn

a r Le ve me unblessed , unpitied , here to mou n

ou r In y b ight track, that fires the western skies ,

r They melt, they vanish f om my eyes .

’ But oh ! what solemn scenes o n Snowdon s height Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll ?

o f n Visions glory, spare my achi g sight

n o o n m Ye unborn ages, crowd t y soul

ur - r No more o long lost A thur we bewail .

’ i a All hail , ye genuine kings, Britannia s ssue, h il

2 III . . Girt Wi th many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear 114 EIVGL I SII ODES.

s O And gorgeous dames , and state men ld

m a In bearded ajesty, ppear. In the midst a fo rm divine Her eye proclaims her of the Briton line

o - Her lion p rt , her awe commanding face,

r v r Attempe ed sweet to irgin g ace .

r What st ings symphonious tremble in the air, What strains o f vocal transport ro und her play

r the r T alie ssin r Hear f om g ave, great , hea

to c They breathe a soul animate thy lay.

r She S B ight Rapture calls, and, soaring as ings,

- Waves in the eye of heaven her many coloured wings .

III . 3. The verse adorn again

Fierce war, and faithful love,

a And truth severe by f iry fiction drest . In buskined measures move

r Pale g ief, and pleasing pain,

\V o o r r o f t. ith h rr , ty ant the throbbing breas

o o f u o r A v ice , as the cher b ch i , Gales fro m blo oming Eden bear ( e ar And distant warblings lessen on my ,

r x r That lost in long futu ity e pi e .

’ o m o m an hin k st o n ou d F nd i pi us , t thou y sanguine cl ,

r h a o rb of P Raised by thy b eath, s quenched the day

- d To morrow he repairs the golden floo ,

116 ENGLISH ODES.

TIIE PASSIONS.

Fi r s t appear e d i n a vol u m e of Odes on sev er a l de scr ipti ve OLLINS. C " a n d a e r s b e ll go ic u j cts , 17 4 7

a HEN Music, heavenly m id , was young ,

r r c u While yet in ea ly G ee e she s ng,

o o ft her The Passi ns , to hear shell ,

r he r Thronged a ound magic cell,

Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,

’ Po sse st beyond the Muse s painting By turns they felt the glowing mind

Disturbed , delighted, raised, refined

’ r Till once, tis said, when all were fi ed,

r Filled with fury, rapt, inspi ed , From the suppo rting myrtles round They snatched her instruments o f sound

o ft r r And, as they had hea d apa t

S o o f o r art weet less ns her f ceful , Each ( for Madness ruled the hour)

\Vould o wn r prove his exp essive power.

tr First Fear his hand, its skill to y,

Amid the chords bewildered laid, S COLLIN . 117

And back recoiled , he knew not why, ’ E en at the sound himself had made .

on Next Anger rushed his eyes fire, In lightnings owned his secret stings

o n e s In rude cla h he struck the lyre ,

And swept with hurried hand the strings. With woeful measures wan Despair

Lo w , sullen sounds his grief beguiled

A solemn, strange, and mingled air

’ ’ Twas sad by fits, by starts twas wild .

0 o But thou, H pe , with eyes so fair, What was thy delightful measure ?

S w r till it hispe ed promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail Still would her touch the strain prolong

o And fr m the rocks , the woods , the vale,

he S called on Echo still, through all the song ;

And, where her sweetest theme she chose,

A soft responsive voice was heard at every close,

And Hope enchanted smiled , and waved her golden hair . And longer had she sung

r But with a f own , Revenge impatient rose

He threw his blood- stained sword in thunder down ;

And with a withering look,

- The war denouncing trumpet took,

O And blew a blast S loud and dread,

’ Were ne er prophetic sounds SO full Of woe 11 I 8 ENGL SH ODES.

n d heat And, ever a anon , he The doubling drum with furious heat

m r r And though someti es, each d ea y pause between,

Dejected Pity, at his side,

u - Her so l subduing voice applied ,

r Yet still he kept his wild unalte ed mien, While each strained ball Of sight seemed bursting from his

head .

m r Thy nu be s, Jealousy, to nought were fixed Sad proof of thy distressful state Of differing themes the veering song was mixed

n o w ra a o n . And now it courted Love, ving c lled Hate

on e r With eyes upraised , as inspi ed , Pale Melancholy sate retired

And, from her wild sequestered seat, w In notes by distance made more s eet, Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul

c And dashing soft from ro ks around , Bubbling runnels joined the sound ;

o Through glades and glooms the mingled measure st le,

’ m n m Or o er so e hau ted strea , with fond delay,

o f Round a h ly calm di fusing,

of Love peace, and lonely musing,

In hollow murmurs died away.

But oh how altered was its sprightlier tone,

u m o f When Cheerf lness, a ny ph healthiest hue,

Her bow across her shoulder flung,

120 ENGLISH ODES.

Lay’st thou thy ancient lyre aside

As, in that loved Athenian bower,

You - r learned an all commanding powe ,

r Thy mimic soul , 0 nymph endea ed, Can well recall what then it heard

Where is thy native simple heart;

V r n ? Devote to i tue, Fa cy, Art m Arise, as in that elder ti e,

Warm, energetic, chaste , sublime ! Thy w onders in that godlike age

’ r r Fill thy reco ding Siste s page .

’ Tis said , and I believe the tale,

r Thy humblest reed could mo e prevail ,

o f Had more strength , diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age

’ n E e all at once together found , ’ r of Cecilia s mingled wo ld sound .

o ur u Oh, bid vain endeavo rs cease Revive the just designs of Greece Return in all thy simple state Confirm the tales her sons relate I 12 1 COLL NS.

TO EVENING.

P u bli shed i n 17 4 7 ; bu t tile tex t Ize ro gi ven i s tlza t r ecover ed by COLLINS. o Thomas r om a m i s M r . M y f 8 cel la ny of r 74 .

u o r F a ght of oaten stop, pastoral song,

May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,

own Like thy solemn springs,

n Thy springs, and dyi g gales

n ow - O nymph reserved, while the bright haired sun

u w S Sits in yo western tent, hose cloudy kirts,

With brede ethereal wove, ’ O e rhan g his wavy bed

d - Now air is hushe , save where the weak eyed bat

r flits on With short shrill sh iek , by leathern wing ; Or where the beetle winds

’ h His small but sullen orn,

’ o ft As he rises midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum

e Now teach me, maid compos d,

r To breathe some softened st ain , 122 ENGLISH ODES.

Whose numbers stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit

As , musing slow, I hail Thy genial loved return

F o r when thy fo lding- star arising shows

r i His paly circlet , at his wa n ng lamp The fragrant Hours and Elves

Who slept in flowers the day,

And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge,

r an d And sheds the f eshening dew, , lovelier still ,

r The pensive Pleasu es sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car

Then lead , calm votaress, where some sheety lake

o r - Cheers the lone heath, some time hallowed pile, Or upland fallows grey

Reflect its last cool gleam .

But when chill blustering winds or driving rain l Forbid my wil ing feet, be mine the hut, ’ That from the mountain s side V iews wilds and swelling floods,

a - And h mlets brown , and dim discovered spires

’ And hears their simple be ll, and marks o er all Thy dewy fingers draw

The gradual dusky veil .

124 ENGLISH ODES.

ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS OF

THE HIGHLAND S OF SCOTLAND .

f r om Chichostor i n the w i n tor o a d a d r esse t o ome the f 4 9 , d d H , ‘n a n t22r of D COLLIN S' a n ce he ha d m ade a m n t a I t w as i n the a u tu of h t y ea r . i n 1 80 f i r st p r i n te d 7 .

’ OM r rn st Thames wh o se B thou etu from , Naiads long

r o Have seen thee linge ing with a f nd delay,

’ r Mid those soft f iends , whose hearts, some future day,

S o . hall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic s ng

o f o r h Go, not unmindful that c dial yout ’ leave st Whom, long endeared , thou by Lavan t s side him Together let us wish lasting truth,

r And joy untainted with his destined b ide . l Go nor regard ess, while these numbers boast

- My short lived bliss, forget my social name

O ff h ow o n But think , far , , the southern coast,

r d I met thy f ien ship with an equal flame .

’ a o o tum st Fresh to th t s il th u , whose every vale S hall prompt the poet, and his song demand

’ TO thee thy Oopious subjects ne er shall fail

’ n eed st Thou but take thy pencil to thy hand ,

And paint what all believe , who own thy genial land. COLLINS. 125

There must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill

’ ’ ’ Tis Fancy s land to which thou set st thy feet ’ o Where still, tis said , the fairy pe ple meet ,

r on r Beneath each bi ken shade, mead o hill .

r m There each t i lass, that skims the milky store, To the swar t tribes their creamy bowl allots ;

By night they sip it round the cottage door.

r r r While ai y minst els wa ble jocund notes .

v r r There, e ery he d , by sad expe ience, knows

H o w r - o , winged with fate, thei elf shot arr ws fly,

h er r o When the sick ewe summer food fo g es,

on r - m Or, stretched ea th, the heart s it heifers lie . Such airy beings awe the untutored swain :

Nor r o ou thou , though lea ned , his h melier th ghts neglect Let thy sweet Mu se the ru ral faith sustain

o f ff These are the themes simple, sure e ect,

That add new conquests to her boundless reign ,

r - a And fill, with double fo ce, her heart commanding str in .

’ O ’ E en yet preserved , how ften may st thou hear,

r t or Whe e o the pole the B eal mountains run,

u Ta ght by the father to his listening son,

’ S r r S r trange lays, whose powe had cha med a pense s

r u o o ssest At eve y pa se, bef re thy mind p ,

a u Old Runic bards sh ll seem to rise aro nd,

’ Vvi h - r t uncouth lyres, in many colou ed vest , Their matted hair with boughs fantastic cro wned 126 ENGL ISH ODES.

’ Whether thou bid st the well - taught hind repeat

r t r C The choral di ge, hat mou ns some hieftain brave,

o e When every shrieking maid her bos m b at, And strewed with choicest herbs his scented grave

’ O r r whethe , sitting in the shepherd s shiel,

’ ’ Thou hear st some sounding tale Of war s alar ms ’ When at the bugle s call, with fire and steel ,

an u e r r The sturdy cl s po r d forth thei b awny swarms ,

’ to an us. And hostile brothers met, prove each other s

’ r Tis thine to sing, how, f aming hideous spells,

’ S r r In kye s lone isle, the gifted wiza d see

’ r r Lodged in the wint y cave with Fate s fell spea ,

’ O r in the depth o f Ui st s dark forest dwells

H w r r r o o they, whose sight such d ea y d eams engr ss,

o wn o o With their visi n oft ast nished droop, ’ When o e r the watery strath or quaggy moss

n o They see the glidi g gho sts unbo died tro p .

r r o n r O , if in spo ts, or the festive g een,

r Their destined glance some fated youth desc y ,

o r Who now, perhaps, in lusty vig u seen ,

o m . And rosy health, shall s on la ented die

F o r m O f O the the viewless forms air bey,

r r Thei bidding heed , and at their beck repai ;

h o r T ey kn w what spi it brews the stormful day,

r oft r And hea tless , like moody Madness , sta e

T0 see the phantom train thei r secret work prepare .

128 ENGLISH ODES.

For him in vain his anxious wife shall wait, Or wander forth to meet him on his way ;

For him in vain at to - fall of the day His babes shall linger at the unclosing gate ’ if Ah, ne er shall he return Alone, night

r Her t avelled limbs in broken slumbers steep ,

i moum ful With droop ng willows drest, his sprite

Shall visit sad , perchance, her silent sleep

r Then he, pe haps, with moist and watery hand,

o Shall f ndly seem to press her shuddering cheek,

And with his blue swoln face before her stand ,

v r And, shi e ing cold, these piteous accents speak f l Pursue , dear wi e, thy dai y toils pursue ,

o r r o At dawn dusk , indust ious as bef re ’ o f on e Nor e er me helpless thought renew,

o n r While I lie weltering the osie ed shore,

’ ’ aid Drowned by the Kelpie s wrath, nor e er shall thee more

Unbounded is thy range with varied style hi S Thy Muse may, like those feathery tribes w ch pring

m o i Fro their rude r cks , extend her skirt ng wing

rid Round the moist marge o f each cold H eb isle,

To that hoar pile which still its ruin shows,

In whose small vaults a pigmy fo lk is found ,

v d s Whose bones the del er with his spa e upthrow ,

And culls them, wondering, from the hallowed ground z z rzv co s . 129

Or thither, where, beneath the showery west, The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid

n ow Once foes, perhaps, together they rest, N O slaves revere them, and no wars invade

’ Yet frequent now, at midnight s solemn hour,

The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold,

a And forth the monarchs st lk with sovereign power,

In pageant robes, and wreathed with sheeny gold,

' n e i And o their twilight tombs a rial counc l hold .

’ ’ t O o e r Kilda s Bu , h all, forget not race,

roOks On whose bleak , which brave the wasting tides, ’ V Fair Nature s daughter, irtue, yet abides .

GO just as they, their blameless manners trace Then to my ear transmit some gentle song

Of those whose lives are yet sincere and plain,

r ff Thei bounded walks the rugged cli s along,

ma m And all their prospect but the wintry .

n With sparing tempera ce, at the needful time,

r or - They drain the sainted sp ing , hunger prest,

Along the Atlantic rock, undreading, climb, ’ And of its eggs despoil the solan s nest.

Thus, blest in primal innocence, they live

uffi ed S c , and happy with that frugal fare

r Which tasteful toil and hou ly danger give .

Hard is their shallow soil, and bleak and bare ; Nor ever vernal bee was heard to murmur there K 130 ENGLISH ODES.

’ Nor n eed st thou blush that such false themes engage

of osse st Thy gentle mind , fairer stores p

For not alone they touch the village breast,

But filled, in elder time, the historic page . S ’ There, hakespeare s self, with every garland crowned ,

In musing hour his wayward sisters found ,

And with their terrors drest the magic scene . h ’ From t em he sung, when, mid his bold design , f Before the Scot, a flicted and aghast The shadowy kings Of Banquo ’s fated line h T rough the dark cave in gleamy pageant passed.

e ! Proce d nor quit the tales which, simply told , Could once so well my answering bosom pierce

Procee d, in forceful sounds and colours bold, The native legends Of thy land rehearse

To such adapt thy lyre and suit thy powerful verse .

i in t In scenes l ke these, which, dar g to depar

m tu Fro sober truth, are still to na re true, ’ w And call forth fresh delight to Faney s vie , The Heroic Muse employed her Tasso ’s art ’ Tan cre d s How have I trembled , when , at stroke, Its gushing blood the gaping cypress poured

When each live plant with mortal accents spoke, And the wild blast upheaved the vanished sword

a s How h ve I sat, when piped the pen ive wind, To hear his harp by Bri tish Fairfax strung !

S 132 ENGLISH ODE .

LEAVING HOLLAND .

A r i l 1 A hon s id I u p 7 4 4 , e L oe don to take hi s degr ee of Doctor of AKENSIDE P s zc w i c h e r ece i ve on the . y , h h d o M ay of tha ty e a r He s tay ed zn Hol n d on ly lo ng e n ough to s ee h is diploma isser ta tion t r ou the r ess d h g h p .

I . 1. A EWELL ’ R to Leyden s lonely bound, ’ The Belgian Muse s s ober seat

W ro here, dealing frugal gifts a und

To all the favourites at her feet, ’ She trains the body s bulky frame

r For passive, perseve ing toils

r And lest, from any p ouder aim ,

h r The daring mind should sco rn e homely spoils, h S e breathes mate rnal fogs to damp its restless flame .

2 I . .

air Farewell the grave, pacific , Where n ever mountain zephyr blew

r The marshy levels lank and ba e,

c Whi h Pan , which Ceres never knew

r The Naiads, with obscene atti e, Urging in vain their urns to flow

o While round them chaunt the croaking ch ir, ) ) AKENSID E . 1 D U

’ o r And haply soothe some l ve s prudent woe,

Or prompt some restive bard and modulate his lyre .

of Farewell, ye nymphs, whom sober care gain Snatched in your cradles from the god of Love She rendered all his boasted arrows vain

And all his gifts did he in spite remove .

- o f a Ye too, the slow eyed fathers the l nd,

With whom dominion steals from hand to hand,

un di n ifi d Unowned, g e by public choice,

r I go where Libe ty to all is known,

r And tells a mona ch on his throne,

He reigns not but by her preserving voice .

I 1 I . .

ee O my loved England, when with th S ? hall I sit down, to part no more

’ Far from thi o r s pale, discol u ed sea, That sleeps upon the reedy shore When Shall I plough thy azure tide

o m r When n thy hills the flocks ad i e, Like mountain snows till do wn their side

r a S r I t ace the vill ge and the sacred pi e,

While bowers and copses green the golden slope divide . 1 IS S 34 ENGL H ODE .

2 II . .

e nymphs who guard the pathless grove,

- S O r Ye blue eyed isters f the st eams,

mom With whom I wont at to rove, With whom at noon I talked in dr eams

Oh take me to your haunts again,

The rocky spring, the greenwood glade

To guide my lonely footsteps deign, m To prompt my slumbers in the urmuring shade,

r And soothe my vacant ear with many an airy st ain .

II . 3.

u And thou , my faithf l harp , no longer mourn ’ Thy dro oping master 5 inauspicious hand

r Now b ighter skies and fresher gales return,

mai Now fairer ds thy melody demand .

of Daughters Albion , listen to my lyre . O O Phoebus , guardian f the Aonian choir,

n Why sounds not mine harmonious as thy ow ,

When all the virgin deities above, t V Wi h enus and with Juno, move In concert round the Olympian father’s throne

1 III . .

a Thee too, protectress of my l ys ,

Elate with whose majestic call,

136 ENGLISH ODES.

Unjust and hostile to each foreign fame But when for generous minds and manly laws

A nation holds her prime applause,

There public zeal shall all reproof disclaim . WAR TON. 13 7

THE FI RST OF APRIL.

u t P r obably composed before 1760 , b WARTON. p r i n ted i n 17 7 7

ITH dalliance rude young Z ephyr woos

o o ft e C y May . Full with kind excus

The boisterous boy the Fair denies,

h a e c . O r, wit scornful smil omplies

of Mindful disaster past ,

And shrinking at the northern blast ,

The sleety storm returning still,

The morning hoar, the evening chill

Reluctant comes the timid Spring .

S r carce a bee, with airy ing, ’ u blossom d M rmurs the boughs around,

’ That clothe the garden s so uthern bound Scarce a sickly straggling flower Decks the rough castle’s rifted tower Scarce the hardy primrose peeps From the dark dell ’s entangled steeps ’ O er the field Of waving broom, 138 ENGLISH ODES.

Slowly Shoots the golden bloom

u - And, but by fits, the f rze clad dale

r r Tinctures the t ansito y gale .

’ r While f om the shrubbery s naked maze, Where the vegetable bl aze

’ ’ Of Flora s brightest broidery shone ,

’ Every chequer d charm is flown Save that the lilac hangs to view

u Its b rsting gems in clusters blue .

Scant along the ridgy land

The beans their new - born ranks expand ’ The fresh -turn d soil with tender blades Thinly the Sprouting barley shades

’ Fringing the forest s devious edge, ’ rob d d Half appears the hawthorn he ge, Or to the distant eye displays

Weakly green its budding sprays .

for The swallow, a moment seen , Skims in haste the village green

o n From the grey moor, feeble wing, The screaming plovers idly spring

- The butterfly, gay painted soon , E x plores awhile the tepid noon And fondly trusts its tender dyes

r To fickle suns, and flatte ing skies .

S 14 0 ENGLISH ODE .

Withi n some whispering osier isle,

’ Where Glym s low banks neglected smile

‘ And e abh trim meadow still retains

’ The wintry torrent s oozy stains :

o Beneath a willow, long f rsook, ’ The fisher seeks his custom d nook And bursting through the crackling sedge ’ ’ cav m d That crowns the current s e edge, He startles from the bordering wood

’ h - r T e bashful wild duck s ea ly brood .

O ’ w er the broad do ns, a novel race,

a Frisk the lambs with f ltering pace, And with eager bleatings fill ’ b eacon d The foss that skirts the hill .

His free - born vigour yet unbroke

’ u n To lordly man s us rpi g yoke,

r The bounding colt fo gets to play,

Basking beneath the noontide ray, ’ And stretch d among the daisies pied Of a green dingle ’s sloping side

While far beneath , where nature spreads

u o f Her bo ndless length level meads,

o r In lo se luxu iance taught to stray, A thousand tumbling rills inlay

s With silver veins the vale, or pas

Redundant through the sparkling grass . WA R TOM 14 1

Yet, in these presages rude,

Midst her pensive solitude,

Fancy, with prophetic glance, Sees the teeming months advance d The fiel , the forest, green and gay,

o The dappled sl pe, the tedded hay ;

S the ees reddening orchard blow,

The harvest wave, the vintage flow Sees June unfold his glossy robe Of thousand hues o ’er all the globe

S a o f n ees Ceres gr sp her crown cor ,

And Plenty load her ample horn . 14 2 ENGLISH ODES.

BOADICEA .

O ER F r om the P oems 1 82. C WP . of 7

e HEN the British warrior Que n,

r Bleeding f om the Roman rods, I S ought with an indignant mien, ’ Counsel of her country s gods

Sage beneath a spreading oak,

Sat F ” i d the , hoary chief,

’ Ev ry bu g word he spoke

l Of Full of rage, and fu l grief.

Princess if ou r aged eyes

Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, ’Tis because resentment ties

All the terrors o f our tongues .

o — R me shall perish, write that word I n the blood that she has spilt,

IS S x4 4 ENGL H ODE .

’ She with all a monarch s pride Felt them in her bosom glow

Rushed to battle, fought, and died

e th foe . Dying, hurl d them at e

Rufli an s , pitiless as proud, Heaven awards the vengeance due

on Empire is us bestowed ,

Shame and ruin wait for you . 7 0NES. 14 5

L ZE IN IMITATION OF A C US.

i n 1 1 n a r Wr i tten 7 8 , i pa oxysm of i n

i i n a ai n s h d gn a t o g t t e A me r i can w a r ,

- ONES the slave t r a e an d the e n s J . d , g er a l

o best f the poems of Si r PVi lli a m yon os .

HAT constitutes a State ?

- or o Not high raised battlement laboured m und, Thick wall or mo ated gate Not cities proud with Spl l‘ eS an d turrets crowned

No t o - r r bays and br ad a med po ts,

r r Where, laughing at the sto m, rich navies ide

r an d r Not sta red spangled Cou ts,

- Where low browed baseness wafts perfume to pride .

- No men , high minded men, e With powers as far above dull brutes endu d,

a or In forest, br ke den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude

who i du tre Men the r s know,

r r But know thei ights, and, knowing, dare maintain,

r - m P event the long ai ed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain

c S These onstitute a tate,

’ And sovereign Law, that State s collected will, ENGLISH ODES.

O ’er thrones and globes elate S r its emp ess, crowning good, repressing ill

Smit by her sacred frown,

s in The fiend , Dis ention, like a vapour s ks ,

’ And e en the all - dazzling Crown di Hides his faint rays, and at her bid ng shrinks .

- Such was this heaven loved isle ,

Than Lesbos fairer, and the Cretan shore ! NO more shall Freedom smile

Shall Britons languish, and be men no more ?

S i ince all must life res gn ,

Those sweet rewards which decorate the brave, ’ Tis folly to decline,

And sink inglorious to the silent grave .

1 s LIS D S 4 ENG H O E .

The sunshine is a glorious bi rth

’ w r r o But yet I kno , whe e e I g , ’ ass d r That there hath p away a glo y from the earth .

I II .

N o ow, while the birds thus sing a j yous song, And while the yo ung lambs bound

’ As to the tabor s sound , To me alone there came a thought o f grief

A timely utterance gave that thought relief,

o And I again am str ng. The cataracts blow their trumpets fro m the steep N0 more shall grief o f mine the seas on wrong

ro o I hear the echoes th ugh the mountains thr ng,

Th e w of inds come to me from the fields sleep, And all the earth is gay Land and sea

o Give themselves up to j llity, And with the heart o f May Doth every beast keep holiday O Thou child f joy,

m e Shout round , let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd boy

IV.

ble sséd Ye creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each o ther make I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee R 1 WORDSWO TH. 4 9

My heart is at your festival ,

a r My head h th its co onal ,

of —I The fulness your bliss, I feel feel it all .

r Oh, evil day if I we e sullen

r or n While Ea th herself is ad ni g,

This sweet May - morning

And the children are culling,

On every side,

In a thousand valleys far and wide,

r m F esh flowers ; while the sun shines war ,

’ And the babe leaps up on his mother s arm

r o I hea , I hear, with j y I hear

’ r o f o n e But the e s a tree, many, ,

’ n lO Ok d o A Si gle field which I have up n , Both o f theui speak o f something that is gone The pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat Whither is fled the visionary gleam

r ? Where is it now, the glo y and the dream

V . birth is but a sleep and a forgetting

’ r ur soul that ises with us, p life s star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting, And con reth fro m afar

No t in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness, 150 ENGLISH ODES.

But trailing clouds Of glory do we come

G od o ur From , who is home Heaven lies about us in our infancy

Shades o f the pris o n - ho use begin to close

o o w bo Up n the gr ing y,

But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, He sees it in hi s j oy

r The youth , who daily farther f om the east ’ u Must travel, still is Nat re s priest, And by the vision Splendid IS on his way attended

r a At length the man pe ceives it die aw y, O And fade into the light f common day .

VI . Earth fills her lap with pleasures o f her own ;

o wn r Yearnings she hath in her natu al kind ,

’ m o f And, even with so ething a mother s mind,

aim And no unworthy , The homely nurse doth al l she can

- o man To make her f ster child, her inmate ,

o r r F get the glo ies he hath known,

And that imperial palace when ce he came .

VII .

- Behold the child among his new born blisses,

’ A six years darling o f a pi gmy size

1 2 GLIS D S 5 EN H O E .

’ r ad t That, deaf and silent, e s the eternal deep, m Haunted for ever by the eternal ind , Mighty Prophet Seer blest

o r On whom th se truths do est,

are o o u r to Which we t iling all lives find,

ar r e o f In d kness lost, the da kn ss the grave

o m o Th u , over whom thy i m rtality

’ r S B oods like the day, a master o er a lave, A presence which is not to be put by

o c o Th u little hild, yet gl rious in the might

’ v - b om r o n Of hea en f eedom thy being s height, ‘Nhy with such earnest pains dost tho u prdvoke ’ ar r th a The ye s to b ing inevit ble yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife

o u h h er r Full soon thy s l s all have ea thly freight,

And custom lie upon thee with a weight,

an d al ! Heavy as frost, deep most as life

I ! . 0 j oy that in our embers

a o Is something th t d th live, That Nature yet remembers What was so fugiti ve The thought o f o u r past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest ;

r m Delight and libe ty, the si ple creed RD SW R TH WO O . 153

d o r Of childhoo , whether busy at rest,

With new- fledged ho pe still fluttering in his breas t Not for these I raise The song of thanks and prarse But for those obstinate questionings w Of sense and out ard things,

allin F gs from us , vanishings ; Blank misgivings of a creatur e

r r Moving about in wo lds not ealized , High instincts before which o ur mo rtal nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised

fo r r aff c o But those fi st e ti ns,

h o o o Those s ad wy rec llecti ns,

c Whi h, be they what they may,

o f Are yet the fountain light all our day, Are yet a master light o f all our seeing

r a Uphold us, che ish, and h ve power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being

Of the eternal silence truths that wake, To perish never ; d Which neither listlessness, nor mad en eavour,

n o r Nor man boy,

N r o o all that is at enmity with j y, Can utterly abo lish o r dest roy

a Hence in a season of c lm weather,

o far Th ugh inland we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 1 IS S 54 ENGL H ODE .

us Which brought hither,

rr Ca in a moment travel thither,

r S r the And see the child en po t upon shore,

r And hear the mighty waters rolling eve more .

x . i Then s ng, ye birds , sing, sing a joyous song And let the young lambs bound

’ As to the tabor s sound !

o We in thought will j in your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play

Ye that through your hearts to -day Feel the gladness Of the May What though the radiance which was once so bright

Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour

u o f o Of splendo r in the grass , gl ry in the flower ;

r We will grieve not, ather find Strength in what remains behind In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be ; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out Of human suffering

In the faith that looks through death,

In years that bring the philosophic mind .

I S 156 ENGL SH ODE .

TO DUTY .

' ’ ‘ W 1 0 . WORDSWOR I H . n tton i n 8 5

TERN daughter Of the voice of God ! 0 Duty if that name thou love

Who art a light to guide , a rod

k r v To chec the erring, and rep o e Thou who art victory and law When empty terrors o verawe From vain temptations dost set free

’ And calm st the weary strife of frail humanity !

There are who ask not if thine eye

on m who an d Be the , in love truth,

v Where no misgi ing is , rely Upon the genial sense Of youth Glad hearts witho ut reproach or blot

e o n o t do thy work , and know it

O , if through confidence misplaced

n a They fail, thy savi g arms, dre d Power, around them WORD SIVOR TH . 157

l Serene wil be our days, and bright

our And happy will nature be,

When love is an unerring light, And joy its o wn security

And they a blissful course may hold ,

n o w Even , who not unwisely bold, Live in the spirit o f this creed ;

Yet seek thy firm support, according

I, loving freedom, and untried ,

NO r o f spo t every random gust, f Yet being to mysel a guide, T00 blindly have reposed my trust

oft And , when in my heart has heard ’ Thy timely mandate , I de fe rr d The task in smoother walks to stray ;

But thee I now would serve more strictly,

Through no disturbance of my soul ,

Or strong compunction in me wrought,

a fo r l I supplic te thy contro , But in the quietness of thought ’ Me this un chart er d freedom ti res ; I feel the weight o f chance desires

My hopes no more must change their name,

I long for a repose that ever is the same . 1 8 IS D S 5 ENGL H O E .

Stern Lawgiver yet thou dost wear

’ The Godhead s most benignant grace Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face Flowers laugh before thee o n their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads Thou dost preserve the stars fro m wrong

And the most ancient heavens, through

and strong.

o w TO humbler functi ns, a ful Power I call thee I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour Oh ! let my weakness have an end !

Give unto me, made lowly wise ,

The spirit Of self- sacrifice The confidence O f reason give

o f And, in the light truth , thy bondman

ENGLISH ODES.

In youth we love the darksome lawn ’ B rushed by the o wlet s wing ;

r rr to Then, twilight is p efe ed dawn ,

to S r And autumn the p ing .

a ff S d fancies do we then a ect, In luxury Of disrespect T o o ur o wn pro digal excess

Of too familiar happiness . Lycoris (if su ch name b efit

’ a S Thee, thee, my life s celesti l ign

’ r r When natu e ma ks the year s decline, Be o urs to welcome it Pleased with the harvest ho pe that runs

o r f m sun s Bef e the path o ilder , Pleased while the sylvan world displays Its ripeness to the feeding gaze Pleased when the s u llen winds resound the

Of the resplendent miracle.

But something whispers to my heart

ar That , as we downw d tend Lycoris life r equ ires an art T o which ou r sou ls mu st bend

A skill - to balance an d supply

ou And ere the flowing f nt be dry,

AS soon it must, a sense to sip, i Or drink with no fast dious lip . W RDS W R T 1 1 O O H. 6

o v Then welcome, ab e all, the guest

’ Whose smiles diffused o er land and sea, Seem to recall the Deity O f youth into the breast May pensive autumn ne’ er present A claim to her disparagement While blossoms and the budding spray Inspire us in o ur o wn decay

’ S r r till as we nearer d aw to life s da k goal,

Be hopeful spring the favourite of the soul . 162 ENGLISH ODES.

FRANCE .

om osed at Stow o i n Somer set C p y , ,

OLER ID G E . i n Febr uar 1 a n d r i n te C y , 7 97 , p d ” F a i n Soli t ud o 1 9 w i th e r s e f 7 9 .

I .

E Clouds that far above me float and pause, Whose pathless march no mortal may control

’ - Ye Ocean Waves that, wheresoe er ye roll , Yield homage o nly to eternal laws ’ - Ye Woods that listen to the night birds singing,

m e Midway the smooth and perilous p reclined , Save when your own imperious branches swinging Have made a solemn music o f the wind

W r O he e , like a man beloved f God ,

r r Th ough glooms, which never woodman t od,

H o w o ft , pursuing fancies holy,

’ My moonlight way o e r flowering weeds I wound;

r o f o Inspi ed , beyond the guess f lly, By each ru de shape and wild unconquerable sound O ye lo ud Waves and O ye Forests high And 0 ye Clouds that far above me soared Thou rising Su n thou blu e rejoicing Sky

Yea, every thing that is and will be free

16 I 4 ENGL SH ODES .

III .

‘ ’ ’ u And what, I said, tho gh Blasphemy s lo ud scream

With that sweet music Of deliverance strove

Though all the fierce and drunken passi o ns wove

’ ’ A dance more wild than e er was maniac s d ream

r m Ye sto ms , that round the dawning east asse bled,

un The S was rising, though ye hid his light

o o r And when, to soothe my s ul, that h ped and t embled , m The dissonance ceased, and all seemed cal and bright

’ When France her front deep - scarr d and go ry Concealed with clustering wreaths of glory

v When, insupportably ad ancing,

’ Her arm made mockery o f the warrior s tramp

m o of r a c While ti id lo ks fu y gl n ing,

r a Domestic treason , c ushed beneath her f tal stamp , Writhed like a wounded d rago n in his go re Then I reproached my fears that would n o t flee

’ her And soon , I said , shall Wisdom teach lore In the low huts Of them that toil and groan

a o And , conquering by her happiness l ne ,

o Shall France compel the nati ns to be free ,

Till Love and Joy look round, and call the Earth their own .

IV.

or r d or r F give me, F ee om O f give those d eams

o m I hear thy voice, I hear thy l ud la ent,

’ From bleak H elvetia s icy caver ns sent 1 coLERI D GE . 65

I hear thy groans upon her blood - stained streams

r r Heroes, that for your peaceful count y pe ished,

- And ye that, fleeing, spot your mountain snows

o r With bleeding wounds f give me, that I cherished One thought that ever blessed your cru el foes

r o To scatter age, and trait rous guilt, Where Peace her j ealous home had built

A patri o t - race to disinherit Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear ; And with inexpiable Spirit To taint the blo odless freedo m of the mo untaineer 0 France, that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind ,

o And patriot only in pernicious t ils, O Are these thy boasts, Champion f humankind

O S To mix with Kings in the low lust f way,

ar Yell in the hunt, and sh e the murderous prey TO insult the shrine o f Liberty with spoils From freemen torn to tempt and to betray ?

V .

r The Sensual and the Da k rebel in vain, Slaves by their own compulsion In mad game They burst their manacles and wear the name

r v on Of F eedom , gra en a heavier chain 0 Liberty with pro fitless endeavour

m r Have I pursued thee, any a wea y hour

’ ’ n o r swell st But thou the victor s strain, nor ever 16 LIS D S" 6 ENG H O E .

h o O Didst breat e thy soul in f rms f human power .

’ r Alike from all, howe er they p aise thee

u (Nor prayer, nor boastf l name delays thee) ,

’ r r Alike from P iestc aft s harpy minions,

’ o Blas hern O a And facti us p y s bscener sl ves,

s eede st Thou p on thy subtle pinions ,

of o f The guide homeless winds, and playmate the waves

’ —ou - C ff r And there I felt thee that sea li s ve ge,

Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above, Had made one mur mur with the distant surge

r Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples ba e ,

air And shot my being through earth, sea, and ,

Possessing all things with intensest love,

0 Liberty my spirit felt thee there .

168 LIS S ENG H ODE .

- r Fade, day d eams sweet, from memory fade

’ r of o The pe ished bliss y uth s first prime,

r on a That once so b ight fancy pl yed ,

mo r - Revives no e in after time. Far fro m my sacred natal clime I haste to an untimely grave The da ring thoughts that soared sublime

’ Are sunk in ocean s southern wave .

Slave Of the mine thy yellow light

a - fir Gleams b leful as the tomb e drear. A gentle vision comes by night My lonely widowed heart to cheer

are m Her eyes dim with any a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine Her fond heart throbs with many a fear I cannot bear to see thee shine .

or fo r F thee, thee, vile yellow slave, I left a heart that loved me true

o - I crossed the tedious cean wave,

To roam in climes unkind and new. The cold wind Of the stranger blew Chill o n my withered heart the grave Dark and untimely met my view

e And all for thee , vile y llow slave ' LEYDEN. 169

’ Ha com st thou now so late to mock ’ r A wanderer s banished hea t forlorn , Now that his frame the lightning shock

Of sun - rays tipt with death has bo rn e

o r om From l ve, from f iendship, country, t , ’ To memory s fond regrets the prey V ile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn GO mix thee with thy kindred clay 17 0 ENGLISH ODES.

TO JOSEPH ABLETT .

To the tex t o t is ode as i n valuable f h , a ll an d a u bi o r a i ca ll poetic y to g p y , h ' I a ve r estor e r om Fors ter s h d, f ANDOR he i sca r e M S cou le t L . t d d d . p r e rr i n to Cole r i I do n ot ef g dge. kn o w by w ha t splen e ti c capr i ce L an dor mi r n i o tted to p i t t .

O D o f R the Celtic dells, Where Clwyd listens as his minstrel tells

o r o r Of Arthur Pendragon, perchance

o f s r The plumes fla hy F ance,

o Or, in dark region, far acr ss the main,

r Far as Granada in the wo ld of Spain,

r S Warrio s untold to axon ear,

Until their steel - clad spirits reappear How happy were the hours that held Thy friend (long absent from his native home) Amid thy scenes with thee how wide afield From all past cares and all to come

’ What hath Ambition s feverish grasp, what hath

I rr s an an con t t Fortune, p ting Hope ;

GLI S D S 17 2 EN H O E .

Old Redi in his easy chair

r With va ied chant awaits thee there, And here are voices in the grove

As a ide my house, that m ke me think Bacchus is coming d o wn to d rink

’ To Ariadne s love .

But whither am I borne awav

From thee , to whom began my lay Courage I am n ot yet quite lost I stept aside to greet my friends Believe me soon the greeting ends

r o r I know but th ee four at most .

Deem not that Time hath borne too hard

r Upon the fo tunes of thy bard . Leaving me only three o r four ’ Tis my o ld number dost thou start

’ At such a tale In what man s heart Is ther e fireside fo r mo re ?

I never courted friends or Fame

he o S pouted at me l ng, at last she came, And threw her arms around my neck and

fo r r Take what hath been yea s delayed, And fear not that the leav es will fall

ar One hour the e lier from thy coronal . LA NDOR 173

Ablett thou knowest with what even hand ’ I waved away the O ffe r d seat

r r Among the clambe ing, clatte ing, stilted great, The rulers o f o ur land

n or Nor crowds kings can lift me up,

’ Nor sweeten Pleasure s purer cup .

Thou knowest how, and why, are dear to me

r r of i e sol My cit on g oves F e ,

Affrico My chirping , my beechwood nook,

nl o My Naiads, with feet o y in the br ok,

a Which runs aw y and giggles in their faces,

Yet there they sit, nor sigh for other places .

’ Tis not Pelasgian wall By him made sacred who m alone

’ Twere not p rofane to call

r v n o r r The ba d di ine, (th own

Va ar o n or c Far under me) ld n , the rest

Of Valomb rosa in the crimson east .

Here can I sit or roam at will

r Few t ouble me, few wish me ill,

ro to o r Few come ac ss me , few nea

Here all my wishes make their stand,

’ Here ask I n o one s voice or hand

S o f . cornful favour, ignorant of fear 174 ENGLISH ODES.

Yo n vine upon the maple bough Flouts at the hearty wheat below

Away her venal wines the wise man sends, While those o f lower stem he brings

o o u Fr m inm st treas re vault, and sings

i r h r The r wo th and age among is chosen f iends .

our m Behold Earth, ost nigh the sun

o O to a Her z ne least pens the genial he t, But farther o ff her veins more freely run ’ Tis thus with those that whirl about the great

S r v r o The nearest h ink and shi e , we rem te

- s May open brea ted blow the pastoral oat.

1 6 7 ENGLISH ODES.

But howling Winter fled afar To hills that prop the polar star

on r - car r And loves dee borne to ide,

ar hi s With barren d kness by s ide, Round the shore where loud Lo foden

r to r Whi ls death the roa ing whale, Round the hall where Runic Odin

Howls his war - song to the gale Save when ado wn the ravaged globe

r v He t avels on his nati e storm,

’ D e flo we rin g Nature s grassy robe And trampling o n her faded form

’ Till light s returnin g lord assume The shaft that drives him to his polar

r Of power to pie ce his raven plume,

- And crystal covered shield .

Oh sire o f storms whose savage ear

r um The Lapland d delights to hear, When Frenzy with her blo odshot eye

r Implores thy d eadful deity, Archangel power o f desolation (Fast descending as thou art)

Sa r y, hath mo tal invocation Spells to touch thy stony heart

r Then sullen Winter hear my p ayer , And gently rule the ruined year CA M P B 1 ELL . 7 7

’ N r the r o chill wandere s bosom bare, Nor freeze the wretch’s falling tear ’ TO shivering want s unmantled bed

Thy horror - breathing agues cease to And mildly on the orphan head

Of Innocence descend .

h S 0 O But c iefly pare, king f clouds

a on The s ilor his airy shrouds,

n When wrecks and beaco s strew the steep , And spectres walk along the deep Milder yet thy snowy breezes Pour on yonder tented shores

’ Where the Rhine s broad billow freezes

Or the dark brown Danube roars . Oh winds o f winter ! list ye there To many a deep and dying groan ?

of Or start ye demons the midnight air, At shrieks and thunders louder than your own ? Alas even your unhallowed breath

May spare the victim fallen low,

ru But man will ask no t ce to death,

NO bounds to human woe . 1 8 IS S 7 ENGL H ODE .

ON VENICE .

osed a t Ven ice i n 1818 and Comp , " BYRON a en de to Il’Iaze i n . pp d ppa the

thi n vol u me of 1819 .

I . H Venice Venice when thy marble walls

be Are level with the waters , there, shall

’ O o r u A cry f nations e thy s nken halls , A loud lament along the sweeping sea

for If I , a northern wanderer, weep thee, — What should thy son s do anythi n g but weep

And yet they only murmur in their sleep . — In contrast with their fathers as the slime,

of The dull green ooze the receding deep,

Is with the dashing of the spring - tide foam

as th m That driv e sailor shipless to his ho e,

Are they to those that were and thus they creep ,

r - C ouching and crab like, through their sapping streets . — Oh ! agony that centuries sho uld reap No mellower harvest Thi rteen hundred years

’ urn d Of wealth and glory t to dust and tears,

And every monument the stranger meets,

a Church, palace, pillar, s a mourner greets

IS S 180 ENGL H ODE . — He feels his Spirit soaring albeit weak,

O o And f the fresher air, which he w uld seek

And as he whispers knows not that he gasps,

That his thin finger feels n ot what it clasps, m ’ hi m And so the film co es o er , and the dizzy d Chamber swims round and roun , and shadows

a At which he vainly catches , flit and gle m,

Till the last rattle chokes the strangled scream,

— r And all is ice and blackness, and the ea th

That which it was the moment ere our birth .

II .

There is no hope for nations - Search the page — d Of many thousand years the aily scene, O The flow and ebb f each recurring age,

to be hath been The everlasting which ,

t or : Ha h taught us nought , little still we lean

t ro t our On things hat beneath weight, and wear Our strength away in wrestling with the air

’ For tis our nature strikes us down the beasts

’ Slaughte r d in hourly hecat ombs for feasts — Are o f as high an ordér they must gO

v r v m u . E en where their d i er goads the , tho gh to slaughter

r fo r r Ye men, who pou your blood kings as wate , What have they given your children in ret urn ?

r of e r A he itage s vitude and woes, i A bl ndfold bondage, where your hire is blows . Y B R ON. 18 1

- - r What do not yet the red hot plough shares bu n ,

’ c O er whi h you stumble m a false ordeal, And deem this proof Of loyalty the real ;

a ou r Kissing the h nd that guides y to you scars, And glo rying as you tread the glowing bars ?

r f ll All that you sires have le t you, a that Time

of r O Bequeaths f ee, and History f sublime,

S ro f pring f m a dif erent theme Ye see and read,

r Admi e and sigh , and then succumb and bleed

S r of all ave the few spi its who, despite ,

’ n And worse than all , the sudden crimes e gen der d

o - of - By the d wn thundering the prison wall,

’ ten d r d And thirst to swallow the sweet waters e , ’ o Gushing from Freed m s fountains, when the crowd ,

’ M adden d with centuries of drought, are loud , And trample o n each other to Obtain The cup which brings Oblivion o f a chain

’ o lou h d Heavy and sore, in which l ng yoked they p g

—or r r The sand, if the e sp ung the yellow grain,

’ b ow d Twas not for them , their necks were too much ,

’ And their dead palates chew d the cud Of pain

S s —who ds Yes the few pirit , , despite of dee

n t Which they abhor, confound o with the cause

’ a Those moment ry starts from Nature s laws,

Which, like the pestilence and earthquake, smite

for But a term, then pass, and leave the earth With all her seasons to repair the blight 182 IS ENGL H ODES.

With a few summers, and again put forth — Cities and generations fair, when free

F or n , Tyran y, there blooms no bud for thee

III . Glory and Empire once upon these towers

With Freedom, godlike Triad how ye sate

o f i i The league m ghtiest nat ons , in those hours V When enice was an envy, might abate, But did not quench he r spirit in her fate

’ All were e n wrapp d the feasted monarchs knew a And loved their hostess, nor could le rn to hate , — Although they humbled with the kingly few

for The many felt, from all days and climes

’ She was the voyager s worship even her crimes

o f ft — o f Were the so er order born Love, ’ h o fatten d on S e drank no blo d , nor the dead ,

’ But gladden d where her harmless conquests spread

F r r s ro o these resto ed the Cros , that f m above

’ Hallow d her sheltering banners, which incessant

o c Flew between earth and the unh ly Cres ent,

w r Which , if it waned and d indled , Ea th may thank

c a c a The city it has clothed in h ins , whi h cl nk

No w r O who o we , creaking in the ea s f those The name o f Fr eedom to her glorious struggles

m o w o Yet she but shares with them a co m n e ,

’ ‘ ’ call d O fo e And the kingdom f a conquering ,

184 ENGLISH ODES.

’ r o . l i l for Rights cheaply ea n d with bl od Sti l, st l

r eve , ’ u c - Better, tho gh ea h man s life blood were a river,

l r w e That it shou d flow, and ove flo , than cr ep

n Through thousa d lazy channels in our veins ,

’ amm d u s D like the d ll canal with lo cks and chain ,

i c And mov ng, as a si k man in his sleep,

s n — Three pace , and then falteri g better be ’ e x tin uish d S a l Where the g p rtans sti l are free ,

t of a In heir proud charnel Thermopyl e, ’ a ur —o r o r Th n stagnate in o marsh , e the deep

on e add Fly, and current to the ocean ,

u s our One spirit to the so l fathers had , A I One freeman more, merica, to thee SHELL E Y. 185

IND TO THE WE ST W .

m a w ood t/za t ski r t s tlze A r n o n e a r Flor e n ce [i n a n d

SHELLEY. o n a da w ile ”tfia t tem es tu ou s w i n y p d, w /zose te mpe r a tu r e i s a t on ce m i ld a n d a n i m a t i n w as colle cti n the va o u rs g , g p ” elf/t k e ic pou r down th au tu mn al r a i n s .

I . ’ W LD of I West Wind, thou breath Autumn s being,

r Thou, from whose unseen p esence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

r Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic ed ,

- r Pestilence st icken multitudes O , thou, Who chari otest to their dark wintry bed

d The winged see s, where they lie cold and low,

Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the sprin g shall blow

’ Her clarion o er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet budslike flocks to feed in ai r With living hues an d odours plain and bill " IS ODES 186 ENGL H .

i i h W ld Spirit, wh ch art moving every w ere

ar Destroyer and preserver be , 0, hear

II .

’ ’ on Thou whose stream, mid the steep sky s commotion , ’ i Loose clouds like earth s decay ng leaves are shed,

the of O Shook from tangled boughs Heaven and cean,

Angels of rain and lightning there are spread

o f On the blue surface thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

a Of some fierce M enad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith ’s height f d The locks o the approaching storm. Thou irge

Of the dying year, to which this closing night

of u Will be the dome a vast sep lchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might

Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere

u s O 1 Black rain, and fire, and hail will b r t , hear

II I .

Thou who didst waken fr om his summer dreams

The blue Mediterranean , where he lay, a Lulled by the coil of his cryst lline streams,

188 ENGLISH ODES.

r As thus with thee in p ayer in my sore need .

as o ! Oh ! lift me a wave, a leaf, a cl ud I fall upon the thorns of life I ble ed

A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed

if , One too like thee tameless, and sw t, and proud

V.

a M ke me thy lyre, even as the forest is What if my leaves are falling like its own The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,

i i Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, sp r t fierce,

r o n My spi it Be thou me, impetuous e

Drive my dead thoughts over the uni verse Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth

o f And, by the incantation this verse,

S r catter, as from an un extinguished hea th

ar o r a o i Ashes and sp ks, my w ds m ng mank nd Be thr ough my lips to unawakened earth

0 The trumpet of a prophecy , wind,

i s far ? If W nter come , can Spring be behind SHELLEY 189

L TO A SKY ARK .

Pr i n ted wi t/z P r ome tlzeu s Ur: ” SHELLEY . bou n d i n 1820 an d as si n e , g d b y M r s . Ske lley to fl at yea r .

L h AI to thee, blit e spirit

Bird thou never wert,

o r That from heaven, near it, Pourest thy full hear t

of i In profuse strains unpremed tated art .

Higher still an d higher Fr om the earth tho u sprin gest Like a clo ud o f fire

wi n e st The blue deep thou g ,

n ll in singi g sti dost soar, and soaring ever s gest .

In the golden lightning

Of the sunken sun,

’ ’ u are b ri ht n in O er which clo ds g g, Thou do st fl o at and ru n

u unbodied j oy whose race is just beg n. 190 ENGLISH ODES.

The pale purple even Melts around thy flight

of v Like a star hea en ,

In the broad day - light d unseen, but yet I hear thy elight,

Keen as are the arrows i Of that s lver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows

In the white dawn clear,

hardly see, we feel that it is there .

All the earth and air

With thy voice is loud,

As , when night is bare, From one lonely cloud

out o v rflowed. moon rains her beams, and heaven e

What thou art we know not What is most like thee P From rainbo w clouds there flow n ot

r Drops so b ight to see,

thy presence showers a rain of melody.

Like a poet hidden

o f In the light thought ,

Singing hymns unbidden ,

192 ENGLISH ODES.

c or Tea h us, sprite bird , What sweet thoughts are thine I have never heard Praise of love o r wine

o r so d i panted f th a flood of rapture iv ne .

a a Chorus Hymen e l ,

r r n O t iumphal chau t, Matched with thine wo uld be all t But an empty vaun ,

A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ?

o r or What fields , waves, mountains P What shapes o f sky o r plain ? What of thine own kind what ignorance of

With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be Shadow o f ann oyance Never came near thee ’ ’ lovest but ne er knew love s sad

o r Waking asleep, Tho u o f death must deem Things more true and deep 1 SHELLE Y. 93

Than we mortals dream, Or ho w could thy notes flow In such a crystal stream l

We look before and after, And pine for what is n ot Our sincerest laughter With some pain i s fraught

o sweetest songs are those that tell f saddest thought .

Yet if we could scorn

r Hate, and p ide , and fear ; If we were things born

Not to shed a tear,

I know how thy joy we ever should come near.

Better than all measures

u Of delightf l sound , Better than all treasures

o That in bo ks are found,

o f Thy skill po et were, thou scorner the ground !

Teach me half the gladness

r That thy b ain must know, Such harmoni ous madness

o Fr m my lips would flow,

world should listen then, as I am listening now . 194 ENGLISH ODES.

TO LIBERTY .

P r i n te d w i t/z P r ometneus UH! SHELLEY. ” oou nd zn 1820 .

I . GLORIOU S people vibrated again

The lightning of the nations, Liberty, ’ e m S From h art to heart, fro tower to tower, o er pain,

r Scatte ing contagious fire into the sky,

u of Gleamed . My soul sp rned the chains its dismay,

the of And , in rapid plumes song,

o Cl thed itself, sublime and strong ;

a oun As , y g eagle soars the morning clouds among, ’ Hovering in verse o er its accustomed prey Till from its station in the heaven o f fame S ’ The pirit s whirlwind rapt it , and the ray Of the remotest sphere o f living flame

Which paves the void was fr om behind it flung, ’ o t a As foam fr m a ship s swif ness, when there c me

f r A voice out o the deep I will reco d the same .

II . The Sun an d the serenest M o on sprang forth The burning stars of the abyss were hurled

1 5 IS D S 9 ENGL H O E .

Into the shadow of her pinions wide

s r on o Anarch and p iests who feed g ld and blood ,

u are Till with the stain their inmost so ls dyed ,

v o f Dro e the astonished herds men from every side .

IV .

r The nodding promonto ies , and blue isles,

o And cl ud like mountains , and dividuous waves

O s m f Greece, ba ked glorious m the open s iles Of favoring heaven from their enchanted caves Prophetic echoes flung dim melody On the unapprehensive wild

The vine, the corn, the olive mild,

o Grew savage yet, to human use unrec nciled

the And, like unfolded flowers beneath sea,

’ ’ Like the man s thought dark in the infant s brain ,

to Like aught that is which wraps what is be,

’ ‘Art s deathless dreams lay veiled by many a vein

r i Of Pa ian stone and yet a speechless ch ld, V erse murmured , and Philosophy did strain

’ Her lidless eyes for thee ; when o er the [Egean main

V . Athens arose a city such as vision Builds from the purple crags and silver towers

Of battlemented cloud , as in derision

Of kingliest masonry the ocean - floo rs S 1 HELLE Y. 97

Pave it ; the evening sky pavilions it ; Its p o rtals are inhabited

r - e By thunde zon d winds, each head

o sun fir Within its cl udy wings with e garlanded, A divine work Athens diviner yet

c r o f on Gleamed with its est columns, the will

O man on m o o f f , as a unt diamond , set

F o r o - r th u wert , and thine all c eative skill Peopled with fo rms that mock the eternal dead

m r m o In a ble im rtality, that hill i Wh ch was thine earliest throne and latest oracle .

VI .

’ Within the surface of Time s fleeting river m Its wrinkled i age lies, as then it lay

fo r Immovably unquiet, and ever

r ! It t embles, but it cannot pass away The voices o f thy bards and sages thunder

With an earth - awakening blas t Through the caverns o f the past Religion veils her eyes Oppression shrinks aghast

‘ o of A winged s und j oy, and love, and wonder,

r Which soars whe e Expectation never flew, Rending the veil of space and time asunder

a an d One oce n feeds the clouds, streams, and dew One sun illumines heaven ; on e Spirit vast S 198 ENGLI H ODES .

With life and love makes chaos ever new,

As Athens doth the world with thy delight renew .

VII .

o Then Rome was, and from thy deep bos m fairest ,

o - r Cadmaean Mwn ad Like a w lf cub f om a ,

o f r u She drew the milk g eatness, tho gh thy dearest From that Elysian fo od was yet unweari ed And many a deed o f terrible up rightness By thy sweet love was sanctified mi And in thy s le, and by thy side,

m u v firm Atilius . Saintly Ca ill s li ed, and died

r o of v But when tea s stained thy r be estal whiteness,

o And gold profaned thy capit lian throne,

o r - e Th u didst desert, with spi it wing d lightness , The senate o f the tyrants they sunk prone Slaves of on e tyrant Palatinus sighed Faint echoes of Ionian song that t one

Thou didst delay to hear, lamenting to disown .

VIII .

len o r r From what n cag ian g f ozen hill,

m r o f Or piny pro onto y the Arctic main ,

c Or utmost islet inac essible,

a o f n Didst thou l ment the ruin thy reig ,

e achm desart T g the woods and waves, and

2 GLI S D S 00 EN H O E .

With divine wand t raced o n our earthly home

’ Fit imagery to pave heaven s everlasting dome.

X . Thou huntress swifter than the Moon ! thou terror

’ r r of u Of the wo ld s wolves thou bea er the q iver ,

i m - d rr Whose sunl ke shafts pierce te pest winge E or, As light may pierce the clouds when they dissever In the calm regions o f the orient day

Luther caught thy wakening glance,

o Like lightning, fr m his leaden lance

o o f r Reflected , it diss lved the visions the t ance -

In which, as in a tomb, the nations lay ’ d And England s prophets haile thee as their queen,

u In songs whose m sic cannot pass away, Though it must flow for ever not unseen

Before the spirit - sighted countenance

r Of Milton didst thou pass , f om the sad scene

Beyond whose night he saw, with a dejected mien .

XI . The eager hour s and unreluctant years

on - As a dawn illumined mountain stood ,

i r o o s Trampl ng to silence thei l ud h pes and fear ,

r Darkening each other with thei multitude, ! And cried aloud, Liberty Indignation S HELLE Y. 201

Answered Pity from her cave

r Death grew pale within the g ave ,

D to r S And esolation howled the destroye , ave ’ When like heaven s sun girt by the e xhalation

o o Of its own gl rious light, th u didst arise, Chasing thy fo es from natio n unt o nation Like shadows as if day had clo ven the skies

’ o e r At dreaming midnight the western wave,

d r Men starte , stagge ing with a glad surprise ,

n U der the lightnings of thine unfamiliar eyes .

! II . h T ou heaven of earth what spells could pall thee then, In omino us eclipse ? a thousand years

’ ’ ed r the slime of Br f om deep oppression s den,

o Dyed all thy liquid light with blo d and tears, Till thy sweet star s could weep the stain away How like Bacchanals of blo o d

a Round France, the ghastly vint ge, stood

’ ’ D o estruction s sceptred slaves , and F lly s mitred brood m When one, like the , but mightier far than they, The Anarch of thine o wn bewildered powers

Rose armies mingled in obscure array,

r Like clouds with clouds , da kening the sacred bowers

r r Of se ene heaven . He, by the past pu sued ,

Rests with those dead , but unforgotten hours,

r Whose ghosts scare victor kings in their ancestral towe s . S 202 ENGLISH ODE .

XIII . England yet sleeps was she not call ed of old ?

h e r i ts r Spain calls now, as with th illing thunder

n IEtn a Vesuvius wake s , and the cold

Snow - crags by its r eply are cloven in sunder

’ O er the lit waves every IEolian isle From Pithe cu sa to Pelorus

Howls, and leaps, and glares in chorus

’ cr m of o r They y, Be dim ye la ps heaven suspended e us .

r o f Her chains are th eads gold , she need but smile

’ o S r i And they diss lve but pain s we e l nks of steel,

’ v Till bit to dust by irtue s keenest file . Twins of a single destiny appeal

To a the eternal ye rs enthroned before us ,

In the dim West impress us from a seal, All ye have thought and do ne ! Time cannot dare

conceal .

XIV.

o of T mb Arminius render up thy dead, ’ ' l - afl Till, ike a standard from a watch tower s st , ’ His soul may stream over the tyrant s head l Thy victory sha l be his epitaph, ’ m Wild Bacchanal of truth s ysterious wine,

- r King deluded Ge many,

r v His dead spi it li es in thee . Why do we fear or ho pe tho u art already free

2 0 GLIS D S 4 EN H O E .

That the pale name of Priest might shrink and dwindle

r m c r d Into the hell f o whi h it first was hu le , A scoff o f impious pride from fiends impu r e Till human thoughts might kneel alo ne

Each befor e the j u dgment - thro ne

a ou o r o f o o Of its own weless s l, the p wer unkn wn

0 or m o c r , that the w ds which ake the thoughts bs u e

m r o f mm r Fro which they sp ing, as clouds gli e ing dew

’ o a o v r r ur Fr m a white l ke bl t hea en s blue po t ait e, Were stript of their thin masks and var io us hue

ro m o r n o wn And f wns and s iles and splend u s t their o , Till in the nakedness o f false and true

o r i I s They stand bef re their Lo d , each to rece ve t due.

XVII . He who taught man to vanquish whatsoever Can be between the cradle and the grave

r of C owned him the King Life . 0 vain endeavour

on o wn If his high will a willing slave,

r r He has enth o ned the Opp essio n and the oppressor. What if earth can clo the and feed

o r Amplest milli ns at thei need, A nd power in thought be as the tree within the seed ?

r O, what if Art, an a dent intercessor,

’ r on r r D iving fie y wings to Nature s th one,

o o n r her Checks the great m ther st opi g to ca ess ,

: d And cries Give me, thy chil , dominion S HELLE Y. 205

Over all height and depth if Life can breed

Ne w ro wants, and wealth f m those who toil and groan

n Rend of thy gifts and hers a thousand fold for o e .

XVIII .

u Come Thou , but lead o t o f the inmost cave ’ m - Of an s deep spirit, as the morning star

Sun o a n Beckons the fr m the wave,

m r t o o f Wisdo . I hea hepenn ns her car

S - c ar o elf moving, like cloud h i ted by flame

n o t o Comes she , and c me ye not,

o f o Rulers eternal th ught, ’ To m - r judge, with sole n truth, life s ill appo tioned lot ?

a c e Blind Love , and equ l Justi e, and the Fam

o o i l P Of what has been, the H pe f what w l be

r o u m 0, Libe ty if such c ld be thy na e

r o o r m or We t th u disj ined f o these, they from thee If thine o r theirs were treasu res to be bought

r By blood or tears , have not the wise and f ee

\Ve t ? p tears, and blood like tears The solemn harmony

! I! .

d r o f Pause , and the spi it that mighty singing To its abyss was suddenly withdrawn

a Then, as a wild sw n, when sublimely winging

- o f Its path athwart the thunder smoke dawn, 20 IS S 6 ENGL H ODE .

Sinks headlong through the aerial golden light

n On the heavy sounding plai , When the bolt has pierced its brain

u o rt o f i As s mmer clouds diss lve, unbu hened their ra n

far a As a taper fades with f ding night,

r As a b ief insect dies with dying day,

o f My song, its pinions disarrayed might, ’ Drooped o e r it cl o sed the echoes far away

Of the great voice which did its flight sustain, As waves which lately paved his watery way

’ a w m Hiss round dro ner s head in their te pestuous play.

I 208 ENGL SH ODES .

’ Like winter leaves o ergro wn by moulded snow Seemed only not to move and grow Because the crystal silence of the air Weighed on their life ; even as the Power divine

u Which then l lled all things, brooded upon mine.

I I . Then gentle winds arose With many a mingle d close

Of wild IEolian sound and mo untain - odour keen And where the Baian ocean

a r i o Welters with i l ke moti n,

o o f Within, above, around its b wers starry green ,

Moving the sea - flo w ers in those purple caves Even as the ever stormless atmosphere

’ o r Floats e the Elysian realm,

’ r n o er w It bo e me like an A gel , the aves

of d Of sunlight , whose swift pinnace ewy air No storm can overwhelm

h v I sailed , w ere e er flows Under the cal m Serene A spirit o f deep emotion From the unknown graves

o f Of the dead kings Melody.

’ Shadowy Ao rn o s darkened o er the helm The h orizontal aether heaven stript bare S Y 20 HELLE . 9

w Its depths over Elysium, where the pro Made the invisible water white as snow ;

T haean In arime From that yp mount, ,

the There streamed a sunlight vapour, like standard Of some aethereal host ;

Whilst from all the coast,

r u Louder and louder, gathe ing ro nd, there wandered Over the oracular woods and divine sea Prophesyings which grew articulate — — They seize me I must speak them be they fate

III . Naples thou Heart of men which ever pan te st

of ! Naked, beneath the lidless eye heaven Elysian City which to calm in chan test

he The mutinous air and sea t y round thee, even

o are r ! As sleep round L ve, d iven Metropolis o f a ruined Paradise

Long lost, late won , and yet but half regained !

of ri Bright Altar the bloodless sac fice , Which armed Victory offers up unstained

o flowe r - To L ve, the enchained ! ' c t Thou whi h wert once, and then didst cease o be,

art c o r Now , and hen ef rth ever shalt be, f ee,

If Hope, and Truth, and Justice can avail,

Hail, hail, all hail !

P IS ENGL H ODES.

IV. Thou youngest giant birth Which from the groaning earth ’ Lea st in p , clothed armour of impenetrable scale ! Last of the Intercessors ! ’ Who gai nst the Crowned Transgressors ’ ’ Pleadest e ! r b fore God s love A rayed in Wisdom s mail, Wave thy lightning lance in mirth

Nor let thy high heart fail , O Though from their hundred gates the leagued ppressors, With hurried legions move ! l ! Hail , hai , all hail

V .

What though Cimmerian Anarchs dare blaspheme Freedom and thee ? thy shield is as a mirror

se e To make their blind slaves , and with fierce gleam To turn his hungry sword upon the wearer ;

’ A new Actaeon s error

’ Shall their s have been- devour ed by their own houn ds ! Be thou like the imperial Basilisk Killing thy foe with unapparent wounds ! i Gaze on oppression , t ll at that dread risk ’ Aghast she pass from the Ear th s disk :

—for w Fear not, but gaze freemen mightier gro ,

i n on And slaves more feeble, gaz g their foe ;

212 LIS S ENG H ODE .

’ v The viper s palsying enom, lifts her heel

a To bruise his he d. The sign al and the seal (If Hope and Truth and Justice can avail) — Art Thou of all these hopes O hail

VIII .

Florence beneath the sun,

on e Of cities fairest , ’ Blushes within her bower fo r Freedom s expectation From eyes o f quenchless hope

r o Rome tears the p iestly c pe,

r As ruling once by powe , so now by admiration , As athlete stript to run From a remoter station ’ For the high prize lost on Philippi s sho re

a As then Hope, Truth, and Justice did vail, So now may Fraud and Wrong O hail

IX .

Hear ye the march as o f the Earth - bo rn Forms

Arrayed against the ever - living Gods The crash and darkness o f a thousand storms Bursting their inaccessible abodes

Of crags and thunder- clouds

See ye the banners blazoned to the day,

Inwro ught with emblems of barbaric pride

Dissonant thr eats kill Silence far away, L 2 1 SHE LE Y. 3

The serene Heaven which wraps o ur Eden wide

ro With i n light is dyed , The Anarchs o f the North lead forth their legions

’ a o e r Like Ch os creation, uncreating ; An hundred tribes nourished o n stran ge religion s

v r —o r r And lawless sla e ies, d wn the ae ial egions W Of the hite Alps, desolating,

o Famished w lves that bide no waiting,

o o o o f o ld r Blotting the gl wing f tsteps glo y,

o ur m Trampling colu ned cities into dust, Their dull and savage lust ’ On Beauty s corse to sickness satiating They come The fields they tread look black and — With fire from their red feet the streams run gory

X .

S r ! Great pi it , deepest Love Which r ulest and dost move

v h All things which li e and are, within the Italian s ore

W ho r sp eadest heaven around it,

Whose woods, rocks, waves, surround it

’ ’ o e r Who sittest in thy star, Ocean s western floor, Spiri t o f beauty at whose soft command The sunbeams and the showers distil its foison

’ From the Earth s bosom chill ; 0 bid those beams be each a blinding brand Of lightning bid those showers be dews of poison ! 2 1 IS D S 4 ENGL H O E .

’ Bid the Earth s plenty kill !

r v Bid thy b ight Hea en above,

Whilst light and darkness bound it, Be their tomb who planned To make it ours and thine

O r , with thine harmonizing ardours fill

’ o e r o o r And raise thy sons, as the pr ne h izon Thy lamp feeds every twilight wave with fire

’ r Be man s high hope and unextinct desi e, The instrument to work thy will divine

o m o Then cl uds from sunbea s, antel pes from leopards ,

w ro m And fro ns and fears f Thee, Would not more swiftly flee

Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shepherds .

S r r r r Whatever, pi it, f om thy sta ry sh ine

i e lde st or withholde st l t Thou y , Oh e be This city of thy worship ever free !

2 16 GLI EE EN SH G S.

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple - stained m o uth

r an d r That I might d ink , leave the wo ld unseen, And with thee fade into the forest dim

an d o Fade far away, dissolve, quite f rget k What thou among the leaves hast never nown,

r r r The wea iness, the feve , and the f et

r m e n r He e , where sit and hea each other groan ;

a fe w r Where p lsy shakes a , sad , last grey hai s,

r o c r - Whe e y uth grows pale, and spe t e thin, and dies ; Where but to think is to be full o f so rrow

- r And leaden eyed despai s,

he r r Where Beauty cannot keep lust ous eyes,

i - Or new Love p ne at them beyond to morrow.

Away away for I will fly to thee,

r o cc Not cha i ted by Ba hus and his pards,

o f But on the viewless wings Poesy, Though the dull brain perplex es and retards

! r Already with thee tende is the night,

- on And haply the Queen Moon is her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays

But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown

Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways . ' R EA TS. 2 17

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet , ft Nor what so incense hangs upon the boughs,

ut r B , in embalmed da kness , guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable mo nth endows

r - The g ass, the thicket, and the fruit tree wild

o r White hawth rn , and the pasto al eglantine ;

Fast - fading violets covered up in leaves ; ’ mid- And May s eldest child,

The - coming musk rose, full of dewy wine,

o f o n The murmurous haunt flies summer eves .

D arkling I listen and, for many a time

u I have been half in love with easef l Death, him ‘ Called soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath

r a r Now mo e th n ever seems it ich to die ,

s To cea e upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouri ng fo rth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy

St ds ill woul t thou sing, and I have ears in vain

To thy high requiem become a sod .

s n ot Thou wa t born for death, immortal Bird No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown 2 18 IS ENGL H ODES.

Perhaps the self- same song that found a path

r the ad of Th ough s heart Ruth, when, sick

home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ;

The same that o ft - times hath

ea m n ts Charmed magic se e , opening on the foam

O u f perilo s seas, in fairy lands forlorn .

Porlom ! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self ! Adieu the fancy cannot cheat so well

As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades

Past the near meadows, over the still stream, ’ Up the hill - side and now tis buried deep

In the next valley - glades

or Was it a vision, a waking dream ? — Fled is that music Do I wake or sleep ?

2 20 ENGLISH ODES.

r Fair youth , beneath the t ees , thou canst not leave

r Thy song, nor eve can those trees be bare

o r v r B ld love , never, ne e canst thou kiss ,

r — Though winning nea the goal yet , do not grieve

h o o h n o t S e cannot fade, th ugh th u ast thy bliss ,

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair

III . ! Ah, happy, happy boughs that cannot shed

r r You leaves , nor ever bid the sp ing adieu ;

o r And, happy mel dist, unwea ied, F o r ever piping songs for ever new ;

! m r a ! More happy love o e happy, h ppy love

o o For ver warm and still to be enj yed,

F o r fo r o ever panting, and ever y ung ;

a o All breathing human passion far b ve,

r - o u That leaves a hea t high s rrowf l and cloyed,

o A burning f rehead, and a parching tongue .

IV. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ?

r r r To what g een alta , O myste ious priest, ’ Le ad st f o thou that hei er l wing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ?

o r - What little town by river sea shore,

O r - mountain built with peaceful citadel, of o Is emptied its f lk, this pious morn

fo r And , little town , thy streets evermore ‘Vill silent be ; and not a soul to tell ’ art Why thou desolate, can e er return .

V. O Attic shape Fair attitude with brede

r v r Of ma ble men and maidens o e wrought,

With forest branches and the tro dden weed ;

o r o a ou t of Thou, silent f m , d st te se us thought As doth eternity : Co ld Pasto ral !

old r o When age shall this gene ati n waste,

r m of o r Thou shalt e ain, in midst the woe

r o o Than ours, a f iend to man , to wh m th u sayest,

r — al l Beauty is truth, t uth beauty, that is

on h . Ye know eart , and all ye need to know 222 ENGLISH ODES.

TO P SYCHE .

A Thi s ode belongs to pr i l, ’ K . 1 a nd EATS 18 9, w as sen t to K e ats s

br ot e r Geor i n A me a h ge ri c .

SS GODDE hear these tuneless numbers, wrung

fo r By sweet en rcement and rememb ance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be sung

Even into thine o wn soft - couched ear

- o r Surely I dreamt to day, did I see The winged Psyche wi th awakened eyes ?

I wandered in a forest thoughtlessly,

o n And, the sudden, fainting with surprise,

Saw s e two fair creature , couch d side by side

In deepest grass, beneath the whispering roof

Of leaves and trembled blossoms , where there ran

e d A brooklet, scarce spie ’ - fr r - Mid hushed , cool rooted flowers , ag ant eyed,

- n Blue, silver white, and budded Tyria ,

They lay calm - breathing on the bedded grass

r i o Their arms emb aced, and their p nions to

r n ot Thei lips touched , but had not bade adieu ,

- As if disjoined by soft handed slumber,

2 2 G IS 4 EN L H ODES.

Upon the midnight hours

Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense swee t From swin ged c enser teeming ;

r o o Thy sh ine, thy gr ve , thy racle, thy heat

- d Of pale mouthed prophet reaming .

Yes, I will be thy priest , and build a fane

m r o o f In so e unt odden regi n my mind ,

r e ou Where b anch d th ghts, new grown with pleasant pain, Instead o f pines shall murmur in the wind

aro r r vtr Far, far und shall those da k cluste ed ees,

Fledge the wild - ridged mountains steep by steep

r And the e by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees ,

The mo ss - lain D ryads shall be lulled to sleep ; And in the midst o f this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress f With the wreathed trellis o a working brain ,

u b a With b ds, and ells, and stars without a n me,

’ ar With all the g dener Fancy e er could feign,

o r v Who breeding fl we s , will ne er breed the same And there shall be fo r thee all soft delight

o w That shad y thought can win,

A r or t b ight t ch, and a casement ope a night, To let the warm Love in ! 22 K EA TS. 5

TO AUTUMN .

t n KEATS. Wr i te i n 1819.

I .

of ll EASON mists and me ow fruitfulness,

Close bosom - friend o f the maturing sun ; Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that roun d the thatch - eaves run ;

To m - bend with apples the ossed cottage trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ;

o To swell the g urd, and plump the hazel shells

to With a sweet kernel ; set budding more,

or for And still m e, later flowers the bees, w Until they think warm days ill never cease , ’ F or S o e rbrimme d ummer has their clammy cells.

II . Who hath n ot seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

r on Thee sitting ca eless a granary floor,

Thy hair soft - lifted by the winnowing wind

- Or on a half reaped furrow sound asleep, Q 6 IS 2 2 ENGL H ODES.

D w of rowsed ith the fume poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers : And sometime like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden he ad across a brook ;

- r Or by a cider p ess, with patient look,

watchest t e oozin s Thou h last g hours by hours .

III . i ? A Where are the songs of Spr ng y, where are they ?

a u i o Think not of them, thou h st thy m s c t o

ft - While barred clouds bloom the so dying day,

And touch the stubble - plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

Among the river sallows , borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ;

And full - grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn ;

- si n e" n ow t Hedge crickets 3 , and with reble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden croft ;

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies .

2 28 G IS EN L H ODES.

of - Or on the rainbow the salt sand wave, Or on the wealth of globed peo nies ; m s Or if thy istress ome rich anger shows,

r Imp ison her soft hand , and let her rave,

And feed deep, deep upon her peerless

III . — She dwells with Beauty Beauty that must die ;

And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips u Bidding adieu ; and aching Pleas re nigh,

Turning to poison while the bee - mouth sips

A r o f y, in the ve y temple Delight

Veiled Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of no ne save him whose strenuous tongue ’ Can burst Joy s grape against his palate fine ;

of His soul shall taste the sadness her might,

And be among her cloudy trophies hung. 22 TENNYSON. 9

TO MEMO RY .

ar l i n li e bu t Wr i tten ve ry e y f ,

u bli s ed i n oems TENNYSON . p h P , ” Ly r i ca l, i n 1830 .

I .

O steale st H U who fire,

of From the fountains the past,

oh To glorify the present ; , haste, Visit my low desire !

Strengthen me, enlighten me

I faint in this obscurity,

o Thou dewy dawn f memory.

II .

m of Co e not as thou camest late, Flinging the gloom of yesternight ’ On the white day ; but robed in soften d/light

Of orient state.

Whilome thou camest with the morning mist,

Even as a maid, whose stately brow ’ - of kis d The dew impearled winds dawn have s ,

When she, as thou, ° IS 23 ENGL H ODES.

Stays o n her floatin g locks the lo vely freight

r o r i Of ove fl wing blooms, and ea l est shoots

r v of u Of orient g een, gi ing safe pledge fr its , “Thich in wintertide shall star

The black earth with brilliance rare .

III .

r Whilo me thou camest with the mo ning mist,

An d v with the e ening cloud, Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast (Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind

Never grow sere,

o When ro ted in the garden of the mind ,

Because they are the earliest of the year) .

r Nor was the night thy sh oud . In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest

Thou leddest by the hand thine infant Hope . The eddying o f her garments caught from thee The light of thy great presence and the cope

’ Of the half attai n d futurity,

’ Tho deep not fathomless , Was cloven with the million stars which tremble

’ a O er the deep mind of dauntless inf ncy . ’ Small thought was there of life s distress ;

’ F or sure she de em d no mist of earth could dull

Those spirit - thrilling eyes so keen and beautiful

2 G IS D S 23 EN L H O E .

Pour round mine ears the livelong bleat

- fl e ced r Of the thick e sheep f om wattled folds,

Upon the ridged wolds, ’ When the first matin - song hath wake n d loud

r r r Over the da k dewy ea th forlo n , What time the amber morn

- Forth gushes from beneath a low hung cloud.

V . Large dowries doth the raptured eye To the young spirit p resent When first she is wed ; And like a bride of old

In triumph led, With music and sweet showers

O r f festal flowe s,

Unto the dwelling she must sway.

r Well hast thou done, g eat artist Memory, In setting round thy first experiment

With royal frame - work of wrought gold

Needs must thou dearly love thy first essay, And foremost in thy various gallery

Place it, where sweetest sunlight falls Upon the storied walls ; For the discovery

And newnes s of thine art so pleased thee, That all which thou hast drawn of fairest TENNYSO V I . 233

O r boldest since, but lightly weighs With thee unto the love thou bearest

first- b of‘ th - The orn y genius . Artist like, Ever retiring thou dost gaze On the prime labour of thine early days No matter what the sketch might be ;

on h s P Whether the high field the bus les ike,

Or even a sand- built ridge

h a Of heaped hills that mound t e se ,

Overblown with murmurs harsh, Or even a lowly cottage whence we see ’ Stre tch d wide and wild the waste enormous marsh, f d Where rom the frequent bri ge,

L of ike emblems infinity, The trenched waters run from sky to sky Or a garden hower’d close

of With plaited alleys the trailing rose, L ong alleys falling down to twilight grots, Or Opening upon level plots

Of crowned lilies, standing near

Purple - Spiked lavender : Whither in after life retired m From brawling stor s,

From weary wind,

ul r - With youthf fancy e inspired, W e may hold converse with all forms

th - Of e many sided mind, 2 IS S 34 ENGL H ODE .

e And thos whom passion hath not blinded,

- u - Subtle tho ghted, myriad minded .

My friend, with you to live alone, Were how much better than to o wn w ! A cro n , a sceptre, and a throne i O strengthen me, e nl ghten me !

I faint in this obscurity,

d of Thou dewy awn memory.

2 6 IS D S 3 ENGL H O E .

L o et the long long pr cession go,

r And let the sorrowing c owd about it grow, And let the moum fu l martial music blow ;

a m lo The l st great English an is w.

IV.

n for Mour , to us he seems the last,

n in P Remembering all his great ess the ast. No more in soldier fashi on will he greet

f a in With li ted h nd the gazer the street.

r ur - 0 f iends, o chief state oracle is mute :

- r Mourn for the man of long endu ing blood,

- o The statesman warrior, m derate, resolute, m m Whole in hi self, a co mon good .

fo r o f Mourn the man amplest influence,

o f Yet clearest ambitious crime,

Our greatest yet with least pretence , i Great in counc l and great in war,

i o f Foremost capta n his time,

in - e Rich saving common se ns ,

And, as the greatest only are,

In his simplicity sublime .

r 0 good g ay head which all men knew,

o 0 voice from which their mens all men drew,

t o 0 iron nerve to rue occasi n true, ’ 0 fall n at length that tower o f strength

Which stood four - square to all the winds that blew ! T YS ENN ON. 237

Such was he whom we deplore.

’ - sacrifice The long self of life is o er.

’ - V The great World ictor s victor will be seen no more.

All is over and done

Render thanks to the Giver,

d fo r . Englan , thy son

’ toll d Let the bell be .

Render thanks to the Giver,

An d to render him the mould . Under the cro ss of gold

That shines over city and river, There he shall rest for ever

Among the wise and the bold .

’ Let the bell be toll d And a reverent people behold

The towering car, the sable steeds

’ blazo d Bright let it be with its n deeds,

o Dark in its funeral f ld . ’ Let the bell be toll d : And a deeper knell in the heart be knoll ( 1 ’ And the sound o f the sorrowing anthem roll d

’ Thro the dome o f the golden cross ; And the volleying cannon thunder his loss ;

r o f old He knew thei voices . For many a time in many a clime IS S 2 38 ENGL H ODE .

’ His captain s - ear has heard them boom

n Bellowing victory, bellowi g doom b When e with those deep voices wrought, Guarding realms an d kings from shame With those deep voices o ur dead captain taught

The tyrant, and asserts his claim

In that dread sound to the great name,

o f Which he has worn so pure blame,

In praise and in dispraise the same,

’ f - att m r d A man o well e pe frame .

0 civic muse, to such a name,

a To such a n me for ages long ,

To such a name,

Preserve a broad approach of fame ,

- And ever echoing avenues of song.

VI .

’ an hon our d Who is he that cometh, like guest, t With banner and wi h music, with soldier and with

priest,

and With a nation weeping, breaking on my rest ? S Mighty eaman , this is he

Was great by land as thou by sea.

s f Thine island love thee well, thou amous man ,

our The greatest sailor since world began .

o f f u Now, to the roll mu fled dr ms, To thee the greatest soldier comes ;

0 LIS 24 ENG H ODES.

Roll of cannon and clash of arms,

o r on And England p u ing her foes .

Such a war had such a close . Again their ravenin g eagle rose

’ whe e l d u - w In anger, on E rope shado ing wings , And barking fo r the thr ones of kin gs ;

’ Till one that sought but Duty s iron crown On that loud sabbath shook the spoiler down A day o f onsets o f despair !

’ D ash d on every rocky square

’ Their surging charges foam d themselves away ;

u Last, the Pr ssian trumpet blew ; ’ Thro the long - tormented air ’ flash d Heaven a sudden jubilant ray,

r And down we swept and cha ged and overthr ew.

So great a soldier taught us there,

What long - enduring hearts could do

r - ! In that wo ld earthquake, Waterloo

Mighty Seaman, tender and true,

r f And pure as he f om taint o craven guile,

of - O saviour the silver coasted isle,

o f O shaker the Baltic and the Nile, If aught of things that here befall

Touch a spirit amo ng things divine,

If love of c ountry move thee there at all, ! Be glad , because his bones are laid by thine ’ ’ And thro the centuries let a people s voice YS TENN ON.

In full acclaim, ’ A people s voice, f The proof and echo o all human fame ,

’ o A people s v ice , when they rejoice

c v At i ic revel and pomp and game ,

’ Attest their great commander s claim

r r With honou , honou , honour, honour to

Eternal honour to his name .

VII .

’ ar A people s voice ! we e a people yet .

’ e r Tho all men else th ir nobler d eams forget, C o nfused by brai nless mobs and lawless Po wers ;

Him ho r o Thank w isled us he e, and r ughly set

a r His Briton in blo wn se s and sto ming showers ,

o c We have a v ice, with whi h to pay the debt Of boundless lo ve and reveren ce and regr et

o o . To those great men who f ught , and kept it urs

o r G od ro o ro And keep it u s, O , f m brute c nt l ;

S n u r O tatesme , g a d us , guard the eye , the soul

ro o u r o o Of Eu pe, keep n ble England wh le, And save the o n e tru e seed of freedom so wn

o r r Betwixt a pe ple and thei ancient th one, That sober freedo m ou t o f which there springs O ur loyal passion fo r o u r temperate kings ;

F o r , saving that , ye help to save mankind

he r m Till public wrong c u bled into dust,

R GLIS D EN H O ES.

o f And drill the raw world for the march mind,

r a t Till c owds at length be s ne and crowns be jus .

r o But wink no mo e in sl thful overtrust . Remember him who led yo ur hosts

He bad you guard the sacred coasts . Your cannons moulder on the seaward wall

His voice is silent in your council - hall For ever ; and whatever tempests lour F o r ever silent ; even if they broke

all In thunder, silent ; yet remember

o who He spoke am ng you, and the Man spoke

Who never sold the truth to serve the hour, ’ Nor palter d with Eternal God for power ; Who let the turbid streams o f rumour flow

’ Thro either babbling world o f high and low

\Vh se f o life was work , whose language ri e

‘ With rugged maxims hewn from life ; Who never spoke against a foe ;

" Whose eighty winters freeze with o ne rebuke

All gr eat self- seekers trampling on the right

’ Truth - teller was our Engla nd s Alfred named

Truth - lover was o ur English Duke Whatever record leap to light

He never shall be shamed.

2 ISH S 4 4 ENGL ODE .

r Such was he his wo k is done .

But while the races of mankind endure, Let his great example stand

o f r Colossal , seen eve y land ,

And keep the soldier firm , the statesman pure ’ Till in all lands and thro all human story

The path o f duty be the way to glory : And let the land whose hearths he saved from shame F or many and many an age pro claim

v At ci ic revel and pomp and game,

- u And when the long ill mined cities flame, ’ - r m Their ever loyal i on leader s fa e,

o With honour, honour, h nour, honour to him,

Eternal honour to his name .

Ix .

Peace, his triumph will be sung By some yet unmoulded tongu e Far on in summers that we shall not see

o f Peace, it is a day pain F o r on e about whose patriarchal knee Late the little children clung

da of n 0 peace, it is a y pai

n e w For o , upon hose hand and heart and

Once the weight and fate o f Europe hung. ! Ours the pain, be his the gain

’ More than is of man s degree T YS 2 ENN ON. 4 5

us M t be with us, watching here

our . At this, great solemnity Whom we see not we revere

\Ve revere, and we refrain

r V F om talk of battles loud and ain, And brawling memories all too free For such a wise humility As befits a solemn fane

We revere, and while we hear

’ The tides of Music s golden sea

S o etting t ward eternity,

r Uplifted high in hea t and hope are we, Until we doubt n ot that for on e so true There must be other nobler work to do

o r Than when he f ught at Wate loo, V And ictor he must ever be .

’ For tho the Giant Ages heave the hill

An d break the shore, and evermore

n d an d w Make a break, work their ill

’ Tho world on world in myriad myriads roll

ff r Round us, each with di erent powe s,

r And other fo ms of life than ours, What know we greater than the soul ?

On Go d and Godlike men we build our trust . ’ Hush , the Dead March wails in the people s ears

The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tears The black earth yawns : the mortal disappears ; 2 6 ENGL ISII 4 ODES.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust m’ He is gone who se e d so great . Go ne ; but n o thing can bereave him Of the force he m ade his own

v Being here , and we belie e him

So mething far advanced in State, And that he wears a truer crown Than any wreath that man can weave

o f Speak no more his renown, L ay your earthly fancies down,

’ And in the vast cathedral leave him .

G d . o accept him, Christ receive him

24 8 ENGLISH ODES.

H e dares not tell To which himself is infidel ; His heart not less o n fire

With dreams impossible as wildest Arab Tale,

So ( thinks the boy, )

With dreams that turn him red and pale, Yet less impossible and wild

o own Than th se which bashful Love, in his way and hour, Shall du ly bring to flower !

0 o r of f Unknown Er s, si e aw ul bliss,

a What portent and wh t Delphic word , m Such as in for o f snake forbodes the bird , Is this ? In me life’ s even flood What eddies thus What in its ruddy o rbit lifts the blood Like a perturbed moon of Uranus Reaching to some great world in ungauged darkness hid And whence This rapture o f the sense id Which, by thy whisper b , Reveres with obscure rite and sacramental sign A bond I know not o f n o r dimly can divine ; This subject loyalty which longs F o r chains and thongs

o o f W ven gossamer and adamant,

To bind me to my unguessed want, P A TM ORE . 24 9

And so to lie, ’ n Between those quiveri g plumes that thro fine ether pant ,

F o r o s ? h peles , sweet eternity

’ un hon our s What God d hitherto in ongs ,

n ow Or which, that Fo rgettest the disguise

o s That G ds must wear who visit human eye , Art Thou

Thou art not Amor ; or, if so, yon pyre,

c That waits the willing vi tim, flames with vestal fire ; ’ of or thou rt Nor mooned Queen maids , if she,

r Ah , then, f om Thee Let Bride and Bridegroom learn what kisses be ! In what veiled hymn Or mystic dan ce Would he that were thy Priest advance

o m ? Thine earthly praise , thy gl ry li n

a S y, should the feet that feel thy thought ’ In double - cen tr d circuit run ;

v o In that compulsi e focus, N ught, In this a furnace like the sun? And might some note of thy renow n And high behest Thus in enigma be exprest There lies the crown

Which all thy longing cures .

Refuse it , Mortal, that it may be yours I D S 250 ENGL SH O E .

S r It is a pi it, though it seems red gold ;

nd A such may no man, but by shunning, hold .

o a Refuse it, th ugh refusing be desp ir, h And thou shalt feel the phantom in t y hair.

2 2 GL IS D 5 EN H O ES .

Born in those younger years That sho ne with storms o f spears An d shook in the wind blo wn fro m a dead world 5

When by her back - blo wn hair Nap oleo n caught the fair

r u her And fie ce Rep blic with feet of fire, An d stayed with i ro n words and hands

in Her flight, and freedom a thousand lands

Thou sawest the tides o f things

o o f Cl se over heads kings, t And thine hand felt the thunder, and to hee Laurels and lightnings wer e As sunbeams and s oft air

o r Mixed each in other, as mist with sea

M x o r or i ed , as mem y with desire,

’ Or the lute s pulses with the louder lyre .

’ For Thee man s Spirit stood

f o Disrobed o flesh and bl od, And bare the heart o f the mo st secret hours ; And to thine hand more tame Than birds in winter came

o f High hopes and unknown flying forms powers,

o And fr m thy table fed , and sang

’ Till with the tune men s ears took fire and rang. S WINB URNE . 25 3

’ Even all men s eyes and ear s \Vith fiery sound and tears

ch e cks a Waxed hot, and c ught flame and eyelids At those high so ngs of thine

r Tl at stung the sense like wine,

r Or fell more so ft than dew o snow by night . Or wailed as in some flooded cave

r r of Sobs the strong b oken spi it a wave .

our But we, master, we

Whose hearts, uplift to thee,

o f r n Ache with the pulse thy emembered so g, We ask not nor await

c o f From the clen hed hands Fate,

’ o f r old n As thou , remission the wo ld s wro g ;

Respite we ask not, nor release ;

n ot Freedom a man may have, he shall peace .

Though thy most fiery hope

to 0 e Storm heaven , set wide p

The all - sought - for gate whence G od or Chance debars

of All feet men , all eyes

o ld r The night esumes her skies ,

o - o f o r Her h llow hiding place cl uds and sta s , Where nought save these is sure in sight

w our h . And, paven ith death , days are roofed with nig t 2 54 ENGLISH ODES.

One thing we can ; to be

Awhile, as men may, free ; But n ot by hope or pleasure the most stern

- Goddess, most awful eyed

on Sits, but either side

Sits sorro w and the wrath of hearts that burn ,

or Sad faith that cannot hope fear,

fl er ss r And memory grey with many a ow l e yea .

Not that in stranger’s wise I lift not loving eyes

- To the fair foster mother France, that gave Beyond the pale fleet foam

H elp to my sires and home, Whose great sweet breast could shelter those and save Wh om from her nursing breasts and hands

r o f old Their land cast fo th on gentler lands .

Not without thoughts that ache

F o r theirs and for thy sake,

o f I , born exiles, hail thy banished head , I whose young song took flight Toward the great heat and light

On me a child from thy far splendour shed,

o f n From thine high place soul and so g,

on Which , fallen eyes yet feeble, made them strong .

2 6 LIS D S 5 ENG H O E .

O nursed in airs apart,

0 o f poet highest heart,

m wh o Hast thou seen ti e, hast seen so many thin gs

ar o r Are not the ye s m e wise,

o a M re sad th n keenest eyes , The years with soundless feet an d sounding wings ?

n o t Passing we hear them , but past

o f The clamour them thrills us, and their blast .

o f Thou art chief us , and lord ; Thy song is as a sw o rd

Keen - edged and scented in the blade from flowers Thou art lord and king but we

Lift younger eyes, and see

o f o r Less high h pe, less light on wande ing hours ;

hom e Hours that have men down so long,

l . Seen the right fail , and watched up ift the wrong

m But thine i perial soul , As years and ruins roll

am To the s e end , and all things and all dreams With the same wreck and roar

dim o r D rift o n the same sh e , Still in the bitter fo am and brackish streams

Tracks the fresh water - sp ring to be

o And sudden sweeter f untains in the sea. SWINEURNE 2 5 7

As once the high God bound With many a rivet round

’ Man s Saviour, and with iron nailed him through ,

of At the wild end things,

’ Where even his own bird s wings d Flagged, whence the sea shone like a rop of dew, From Cau casu s beheld below Past fathoms of unfathomable snow ;

So the strong God , the chance

of e Central circumstanc , Still shows him exile who will n ot be slave ; All thy great fame and thee Girt by the dim strait sea With multitudinous walls of wandering wave ; Sho ws us o ur greatest from his thr one

- o f own Fate stricken, and rejected his .

’ s Yea, he is strong, thou say t,

- A mystery many faced, The wild beasts know him and the wild birds D The blind night sees him, eath S hrinks beaten at his breath, And his right hand is heavy on the sea

n We know he hath made us, and is ki g ;

for We know not if he care anything .

3 258 ENGLISH ODES.

m Thus uch , no more, we know ;

He bade what is be so,

a on Bade light be, and b de night be , e by

o ill Bade h pe and fear, bade

And goo d redeem and kill, Till all men be aweary of the sun And his world burn in its own flame

n And bear no witness lo ger of his name .

Yet though all this be thus, Be those men praised o f us Who have loved and wrought and sorrowed and not sinned

F o or o r fame or fear g ld,

Nor waxed for winter cold, Nor changed for changes o f the worldly wind ; b b Praised a ove men of men e these,

Till this one world and work we know shall cease.

n Yea, o e thing more than this,

We know that one thing is,

The Splend our of a Spirit without blame, That n o t the labouring years

- r Blind bo n, nor any fears , Nor men nor an y go ds can tire or tame ; But purer power with fiery breath

u Fills , and exalts above the g lfs of death .