VI.

LINES

WRITTEN, NOVEMBER 13, 1814, ON A BLANK LEAF IN A COPY OF THE AUTHOR'S POEM THE EXCURSION," UPON HEARING

66

OF THE DEATH OF THE LATE VICAR OF KENDAL.

To public notice, with reluctance strong,
Did I deliver this unfinished Song;
Yet for one happy issue;—and I look
With self-congratulation on the Book

Which pious, learned MURFITT saw and read ;-
Upon my thoughts his saintly Spirit fed;

He conned the new-born Lay with grateful heart—

Foreboding not how soon he must depart;

Unweeting that to him the joy was given

Which good men take with them from earth to heaven.

VII.

INVOCATION TO THE EARTH.

FEBRUARY, 1816.

1.

"REST, rest, perturbèd Earth!

O rest, thou doleful Mother of Mankind!" A Spirit sang in tones more plaintive than the wind: “ From regions where no evil thing has birth

I come-thy stains to wash away,

Thy cherished fetters to unbind,

And open thy sad eyes upon a milder day.

The Heavens are thronged with martyrs that have risen From out thy noisome prison;

The penal caverns groan

With tens of thousands rent from off the tree

Of hopeful life,-by battle's whirlwind blown
Into the deserts of Eternity.

Unpitied havoc! Victims unlamented!

But not on high, where madness is resented,
And murder causes some sad tears to flow,
Though, from the widely-sweeping blow,

The choirs of Angels spread, triumphantly augmented.

II.

"False Parent of Mankind!

Obdurate, proud, and blind,

I sprinkle thee with soft celestial dews,
Thy lost, maternal heart to re-infuse!

Scattering this far-fetched moisture from my wings,
Upon the act a blessing I implore,

Of which the rivers in their secret springs,
The rivers stained so oft with human gore,
Are conscious;-may the like return no more!
May Discord-for a Seraph's care

Shall be attended with a bolder

prayer

May she, who once disturbed the seats of bliss
These mortal spheres above

Be chained for ever to the black abyss!
And thou, O rescued Earth, by peace and love,
And merciful desires, thy sanctity approve!"

The Spirit ended his mysterious rite,
And the pure vision closed in darkness infinite.

VIII.

ELEGIAC STANZAS.

(ADDRESSED TO SIR G. H. B. UPON THE DEATH OF HIS SISTER-IN-LAW.)

1824.

O FOR a dirge! But why complain?
Ask rather a triumphal strain
When FERMOR's race is run;

A garland of immortal boughs

To bind around the Christian's brows,
Whose glorious work is done.

We pay a high and holy debt;
No tears of passionate regret
Shall stain this votive lay;

Ill-worthy, Beaumont! were the grief

That flings itself on wild relief

When Saints have passed away.

Sad doom, at Sorrow's shrine to kneel,

For ever covetous to feel,

And impotent to bear!

Such once was hers-to think and think

On severed love, and only sink

From anguish to despair!

But nature to its inmost part

Faith had refined; and to her heart
A peaceful cradle given:

Calm as the dew-drop's, free to rest
Within a breeze-fanned rose's breast
Till it exhales to Heaven.

Was ever Spirit that could bend
So graciously?—that could descend,
Another's need to suit,

So promptly from her lofty throne ?-
In works of love, in these alone,
How restless, how minute!

Pale was her hue; yet mortal cheek
Ne'er kindled with a livelier streak
When aught had suffered wrong,-

When aught that breathes had felt a wound;
Such look the Oppressor might confound,
However proud and strong.

But hushed be every thought that springs
From out the bitterness of things;

Her quiet is secure ;

No thorns can pierce her tender feet,
Whose life was, like the violet, sweet,

As climbing jasmine, pure