the possessive case of an inanimate noun used in prose in- 20 stead of the dependent case; as "the watch's hand," for "the hand of the watch." The possessive or Saxon genitive was confined to persons, or at least to animated subjects. And I cannot conclude this lecture without insisting on the importance of accuracy of style, as being near akin to veracity 25 and truthful habits of mind. He who thinks loosely will write loosely; and, perhaps, there is some moral inconvenience in the common forms of our grammars, which give our children so many obscure terms for material distinctions. Let me also exhort you to careful examination of what you 30 read, if it be worth any perusal at all: such an examination will be a safeguard from fanaticism, the universal origin of which is in the contemplation of phenomena without investigation into their causes. Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; 10 But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted 15 By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, The shadow of the dome of pleasure Where was heard the mingled measure It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, And drunk the milk of Paradise. GEORGE NOEL GORDON, LORD BYRON Lachin y Gair Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses! Restore me the rocks, where the snowflake reposes, Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, 5 Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr. Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade; Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr. "Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?" Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale. Round Loch na Garr while the stormy wind gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car; Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers; They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr. "Ill-starr'd, though brave, did no visions foreboding Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?" 30 35 40 Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden, Victory crown'd not your fall with applause: Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. To one who has roamed o'er the mountains afar: The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr. 5 Wordsworth (From English Bards and Scotch Reviewers) Next comes the dull disciple of thy school, That mild apostate from poetic rule, As soft as evening in his favourite May, The simple Wordsworth, framer of a lay Who warns his friend "to shake off toil and trouble, 10 15 Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose; So close on each pathetic part he dwells, The Bull-Fight (From Childe Harold, Canto I) The lists are oped, the spacious area clear'd, Yet ever well inclined to heal the wound; None through their cold disdain are doom'd to die, As moonstruck bards complain, by Love's sad archery. Hush'd is the din of tongues on gallant steeds, 10 With milk-white crest, gold spur, and light-poised lance, Rich are their scarfs, their chargers featly prance: If in the dangerous game they shine to-day, 15 The crowd's loud shout and ladies' lovely glance, In costly sheen and gaudy cloak array'd, But all afoot, the light-limb'd Matadore The ground, with cautious tread, is traversed o'er, |