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Live in the spirit of this creed ;
Must hear, first uttered from my
orchard Yet find that other strength, according to trees, their need.
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. I, loving freedom, and untried,
Even thus last night, and two nights No sport of every random gust,
more I lay, Yet being to myself a guide,
And could not win thee, Sleep! by any Too blindly have reposed my trust;
stealth: Full oft, when in my heart was heard So do not let me wear to-night away: Thy timely mandate, 1 deferred
Without thee what is all the morning's The task imposed, from day to day;
wealth? But thee I now would serve more strict. Come, blesséd barrier between day and ly, if I may.
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous Through no disturbance of my soul,
The world is too much with late and I feel the weight of chance desires :
soon, My hopes no more must change their Getting and spending, we lay waste our name,
powers: I long for a repose which ever is the same. Little we see in nature that is ours; Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
We have given our hearts away, a sordid
boon! The Godhead's most benignant grace;
This sea that bares her bosom to the Nor know we anything so sair As is the smile upon thy face.
moon, Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, The winds that will be howling at all
hours And fragrance in thy footing trea Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping And the most ancient heavens, through For this, for everything, we are out of
flowers, thee, are fresh and strong.
tune; To humbler functions, awful power!
It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather
be I call thee: I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour;
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 0, let my weakness have an end ! So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Give unto me, made lowly wise,
Have glimpses that would make me less The spirit of self-sacrifice;
forlorn, The confidence of reason give;
Have sight of Proteus coming from the And, in the light of truth, thy bondman
sea, let me live!
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathéd
TO THE RIVER DUDDON. A Flock of sheep that leisurely pass by I THOUGHT of thee, my partner and my One after one; the sound of rain, and bees guide, Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds As being passed away, — vain sympaand seas,
thies! Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and
For backward, Duddon! as I cast my pure sky;
I see what was, and is, and will abide: I've thought of all by turns, and still I Still glides the stream, and shall forever lie
glide; Sleepless; and soon the small birds' The form remains, the functio. never
you denied :
While we, the brave, the mighty, and "O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in the wise,
war, We men, who in our morn of youth Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord defied
Lochinvar ?" The elements, must vanish ;- be it so! Enough, if something from our hands "I long wooed your daughter, my suit To live, and act, and serve the future Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like hour;
its tide! And if, as toward the silent tomb we And now am I come, with this lost love go,
of mine, Through love, through hope, and faith's To lead but one measure, drink one cup transcendent dower,
of wine! We feel that we are greater than we know. There be maidens in Scotland more
lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young
took it up,
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
The bride kissed the goblet; the knight (1771 - 1832.)
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw
down the cup! YOUNG LOCHINVAR.
She looked down to blush, and she looked
up to sigh, O, YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the With a smile on her lips and a tear in
west, Through all the wide Border his steed He took her soft hand, ere her mother was the best;
could bar, and save his good broadsword he weapon “Now tread we a measure !" said young
Lochinvar. He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So stately his form, and so lovely her So faithful in love, and so dauntless in face, war,
That never a hall such a galliard did There never was knight like the young
While her mother did fret, and her father
did fume, He stayed not for brake, and he stopped And the bridegroom stood dangling his not for stone,
bonnet and plume, He swam the Esk River where ford there And the bride-maidens whispered, was none;
“'T were better by far But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, To have matched our fair cousin with The bride had consented, the gallant came
young Lochinvar!” late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in One touch to her hand, and one word in
war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Loch. When they reached the hall door, and invar,
the charger stood near,
So light to the croupe the fair lady he So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, swung, 'Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and So light to the saddle before her he brothers, and all!
sprung. Then spoke the bride's father, his hand "She is won! we are gone, over bank, on his sword,
bush, and scaur; For the poor craven bridegroom said They 'll have Heet steeds that follow!" never a word,
quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of | LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNO
MAN. the Netherby clan; Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
rode and they ran; There was racing and chasing on Canno- My horse is weary of his stall,
My idle greyhound loathes his food, bie Lea,
And I am sick of captive thrall. But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did
wish I were as I have been, they see!
Hunting the hart in forests green,
For that's the life is meet for me.
I hate to learn the ebb of time
Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
Inch after inch, along the wall.
The lark was wont my matins ring,
The sable rook my vespers sing;
These towers, although a king's they be,
Have not a hall of joy for me.
No more at dawning morn I rise,
Drive the fleet deer the forest through,
And homeward wend with evening dew; The village inaid steals through the shade A blithesome welcome blithely meet, Her shepherd's snit to hear;
And lay my trophies at her feet, To Beauty shy, by lattice high,
While fled the eve on wing of glee, — Sings high-born Cavalier.
That life is lost to love and me!
Now reigns o’er earth and sky,
The western waves of ebbing day
Each purple peak, each flinty spire,
Was bathed in floods of living fire. "A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, But not a setting beain could glow A weary lot is thine!
Within the dark ravines below, To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
Where twined the path, in shadow hid, And press the rue for wine!
Round many a rocky pyramid, A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, Shooting abruptly from the dell A feather of the blue,
Its thunder-splintered pinnacle;
Round many an insulated mass,
The native bulwarks of the pass,
Huge as the tower which builders vain
Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain.
Their rocky summits, split and rent, “This morn is merry June, I trow, -- Formed turret, dome, or battlement, The rose is budding fain;
Or seemed fantastically set But she shall bloom in winter snow With cupola or minaret, Ere we two meet again."
Wild crests as pagod ever decked, He turned his charger as he spake, Or mosque of Eastern architect. Upon the river shore;
Nor were these earth-born castles bare, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; Said, “Adieu forevermore,
For, from their shivered brows displayed, My love!
Far o'er the unfathomable glade, And adieu forevermore."
All twinkling with the lexolrop sheen,
The brier-rose fell in streamers green, Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled;
And islands that, empurpled bright,
His ruined sides and summit hoar,
From the steep promontory gazed
On yonder meadow, far away,
The turrets of a cloister gray;
How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute,
Chime, when the groves are still and
Should each bewildered stranger call
He is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest, And now, to issue from the glen,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
When our need was the sorest.
From the rain-drops shall borrow;
But to us comes no cheering,
To Duncan no morrow!
The hand of the reaper
Takes the ears that are hoary,
But the voice of the weeper
HEAP on more wood !--the wind is chill;
The fittest time for festal cheer:
Even heathen yet, the savage Dane
At lol more deep the mead did drain ;
High on the beach his galleys drew, How sound is thy slumber! And feasted all his pirate crew; Like the dew on the mountain, Then in his low and pine-built hall, Like the foam on the river,
Where shields and axes decked the Like the bubble on the fountain,
Caroused in seas of sable beer;
The half-gnawed rib and marrow-bone,
While scalds yelled out the joys of fight. WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved, Then forth in frenzy would they hie,
Out from the land of bondage came, While wildly loose their red locks fly; Her father's God before her moved, And, dancing round the blazing pile,
An awful guide in smoke and flame. They make such barbarous mirth the By day, along the astonished lands,
And well our Christian sires of old There rose the choral hymn of praise, Loved when the year its course had rolled,
And trump and timbrel answered keen; And brought blithe Christmas back again, And Zion's daughters poured their lays, With all his hospitable train. With priest's and warrior's voice be- Domestic and religious rite tween.
Gave honor to the holy night: No portents now our foes amaze,
On Christmas eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas eve the mass was sung;
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ;
The hall was dressed with holly green; When brightly shines the prosperous Forth to the wood dil merry-men go, day,
To gather in the mistletoe.
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;
In shade and storm the frequent night, And Ceremony doffed his pride.
The lord, underogating, share
The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn; All hailed, with uncontrolled delight
And mutearetimbrel, trump, and horn. That to the cottage, as the crown,
The flesh of rams, I will not prize, A contrite heart, and humble thoughts, The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Are mine accepted sacrifice.
Went roaring up the chimney wide;