Whose praise is fame; but there, in that true source
Whence happiness with purest stream descends,
In home found peace and love, supremely blest!
Union of hearts, consent of wedded wills,
By friendship knit, by mutual faith secur'd
Our hopes and fears, our Earth and Heaven the
At last, Amyntor, in my failing age, [same!
Fallen from such height, and with the felon-herd,
Robbers and outlaws, number'd-thought that still
Stings deep the heart, and clothes the cheek with
shame!

Then doom'd to feel what guilt alone should fear,
The hand of public vengeance: arm'd by rage,
Not justice; rais'd to injure, not redress;
To rob, not guard; to ruin, not defend :
And all, O sovereign Reason! all deriv'd
From power that claims thy warrant to do wrong!
A right divine to violate unblam'd

Each law, each rule, that, by himself observ'd,
The God prescribes whose sanction kings pretend!
"O Charles! O monarch! in long exile train'd,
Whole hopeless years, th' oppressor's hand to know
How hateful and how hard; thyself reliev'd,
Now hear thy people, groaning under wrongs
Of equal load, adjure thee by those days
Of want and woe, of danger and despair,
As Heaven has thine, to pity their distress!
"Yet, from the plain good meaning of my heart,
Be far th' unhallow'd licence of abuse;
Be far th' bitterness of saintly zeal,
That, impious hid behind the patriot's name,
Masks hate and malice to the legal throne,
In justice founded, circumscrib'd by laws,
The prince to guard-but guard the people too:
Chief, one prime good to guard inviolate,
Soul of all worth, and sum of human bliss,
Fair Freedom, birthright of all thinking kinds,
Reason's great charter, from no king deriv'd,
By none to be reclaim'd, man's right divine,
Which God, who gave, indelible pronounc'd.
"But if, disclaiming this his heaven-own'd right,
This first best tenure by which monarchs rule;
If, meant the blessing, he becomes the bane,
The wolf, not shepherd, of his subject-flock,
To grind and tear, not shelter and protect,
Wide-wasting where he reigns-to such a prince,
Allegiance kept were treason to mankind;
And loyalty, revolt from virtue's law.
For say, Amyntor, does just Heaven enjoin
That we should homage Hell? or bend the knee
To earthquake, or volcano, when they rage,
Rend Earth's firm frame, and in one boundless grave
Engulf their thousands? Yet, O grief to tell!
Yet such, of late, o'er this devoted land,
Was public rule. Our servile stripes and chains,
Our sighs and groans resounding from the steep
Of wintry hill, or waste untravell'd heath,
Last refuge of our wretchedness, not guilt,
Proclaim'd it loud to Heaven: the arm of power
Extended fatal, but to crush the head
It ought to screen, or with a parent's love
Reclaim from errour, not with deadly hate,
The tyrant's law, exterminate who err.

"In this wide ruin were my fortune sunk:
Myself, as one contagious to his kind,
Whom Nature, whom the social life renounc'd,
Unsummon'd, unimpleaded, was to death,
To shameful death adjudg'd; against my head
The price of blood proclaim'd, and at my heels
Let loose the murderous cry of human hounds.

And this blind fury of commission'd rage,

Of party-vengeance, to a fatal foe,

Known and abhorr'd for deeds of direst name,
Was given in charge: a foe, whom blood-stain'd zeal,
For what-O hear it not, all-righteous Heaven!
Lest thy rous'd thunder burst-for what was deem'd
Religion's cause, had savag'd to a brute,
More deadly fell than hunger ever stung
To prowl in wood or wild. His band he arm'd,
Sons of perdition, miscreants with all guilt
Familiar, and in each dire art of death
Train'd ruthless up. As tigers on their prey,
On my defenceless lands those fiercer beasts
Devouring fell: nor that sequester'd shade,
That sweet recess, where Love and Virtue long
In happy league had dwelt, which war itself
Beheld with reverence, could their fury scape;
Despoil'd, defac'd, and wrapt in wasteful flames:
For flame and rapine their consuming march,
From hill to vale, by daily ruin mark'd.
So, borne by winds along, in baneful cloud,
Embody'd locusts from the wing descend
On herb, fruit, flower, and kill the ripening year:
While, waste behind, destruction on their track
And ghastly famine wait. My wife and child
He dragg'd, the ruffian dragg'd-O Heaven! do L
A man, survive to tell it? At the hour
Sacred to rest, amid the sighs and tears
Of all who saw and curs'd his coward-rage,
He forc'd, unpitying, from their midnight-bed,
By menace, or by torture, from their fears
My last retreat to learn; and still detains
Beneath his roof accurst, that best of wives!
Emelia, and our only pledge of love,
My blooming Theodora !-Manhood there,
And Nature bleed-Ah! let not busy thought
Search thither, but avoid the fatal coast:
Discovery, there, once more my peace of mind
Might wreck; once more to desperation sink
My hopes in Heaven." He said: but O, sad Muse!
Can all thy moving energy, of power

To shake the heart, to freeze th' arrested blood,
With words that weep, and strains that agonize;
Can all this mournful magic of thy voice
Tell what Amyntor feels? "O Heaven! art thou-
What have I heard?-Aurelius! art thou he?-
Confusion! horrour!-that most wrong'd of men!
And, O most wretched too! alas! no more,
No more a father-On that fatal flood,
Thy Theodora-" At these words he fell.
A deadly cold ran freezing through his veins:
And Life was on the wing, her loath'd abode
For ever to forsake. As on his way
The traveller, from Heaven by lightning struck,
Is fix'd at once immoveable; his eye
With terrour glaring wild; his stiffening limbs
In sudden marble bound: so stood, so look'd
The heart-smote parent at this tale of death,
Half-utter'd, yet too plain. No sign to rise,
No tear had force to flow; his senses all,
Through all their powers, suspended, and subdued
To chill amazement. Silence for a space-
Such dismal silence saddens earth and sky
Ere first the thunder breaks-on either side
Fill'd up this interval severe. At last,
As from some vision that to frenzy fires
The sleeper's brain, Amyntor, waking wild,
A poniard, hid beneath his various robe,

Drew furious forth-" Me, me," he cry'd, " on me
Let all thy wrongs be visited; and thus

The weapon's hostile point.-His lifted arm
Aurelius, though with deep dismay and dread
And anguish shook, yet his superior soul
Collecting, and resuming all himself,

Seiz'd sudden: then perusing with strict eye,
And beating heart, Amyntor's blooming form;
Nor from his air or feature gathering aught
To wake remembrance, thus at length bespoke.
"O dire attempt! Whoe'er thou art, yet stay
Thy hand self-violent; nor thus to guilt,
If guilt is thine, accumulating add

A crime that Nature shrinks from, and to which
Heaven has indulg'd no mercy. Sovereign Judge!
Shall man first violate the law divine,
That plac'd him here dependent on thy nod,
Resign'd, unmurmuring, to await his hour
Of fair dismission hence; shall man do this,
Then dare thy presence, rush into thy sight,
Red with the sin, and recent from the stain,
Of unrepented blood? Call home thy sense;
Know what thou art, and own his hand most just,
Rewarding or afflicting-But say ou.

My soal, yet trembling at thy frantic deed,
Recalls thy words, recalls their dire import:
They urge me on; they bid me ask no more—
What would I ask? My Theodora's fate,
Ah me! is known too plain. Have I then sinn'd,
Good Heaven! beyond all grace-But shall I blame
His rage of grief, and in myself admit

Its wild excess? Heaven gave her to my wish;
That gift Heaven has resum'd: righteous in both,
For both his providence be ever blest!"

By shame repress'd, with rising wonder fill'd,
Amyntor, slow recovering into thought,
Submissive on his knee, the good man's hand
Grasp'd close, and bore with ardour to his lips.
His eye, where fear, confusion, reverence spoke,
Through swelling tears, what language cannot tell,
Now rose to meet, now shunn'd the hermit's glance,
Shot awful at him: till, the various swell
Of passion ebbing, thus he faultering spoke:
"What hast thou done? why sav'd a wretch
unknown?

Whom knowing ev'n thy goodness must abhor.
M staken man! the honour of thy name,
Thy love, truth, duty, all must be my foes.
I am Aurelius! turn that look aside,
That brow of terrour, while this wretch can say,
Abhorrent say, he is-Forgive me, Heaven!
Forgive me, Virtue! if I would renounce
Whom Nature bids me reverence-by her bond,
Rolando's son: by your more sacred ties,
As to his crimes, an alien to his blood;
For crimes like his-"

"Rolando's son? Just Heaven! Ha! here? and in my power? A war of thoughts, All terrible arising, shakes my frame

With doubtful conflict. By one stroke to reach
The father's heart, though seas are spread between,
Were great revenge!-Away: revenge? on whom?
Alas! on my own soul; by rage betray'd
Ev'n to the crime my reason most condemns
In him who ruin'd me." Deep-mov'd he spoke ;
And his own poniard o'er the prostrate youth
Suspended held. But, as the welcome blow,
With arms display'd, Amyntor seem'd to court,
Behold, in sudden confluence gathering round
The natives stood; whom kindness hither drew,
The man unknown, with each relieving aid

To succour and to serve. Before them came
Montano, venerable sage, whose head
The hand of Time with twenty winters' snow
Had shower'd; and to whose intellectual eye
Futurity, behind her cloudy veil,
Stands in fair light disclos'd. Him, after pause,
Aurelius drew apart, and in his care
Amyntor plac'd; to lodge him and secure ;
To save him from himself, as one, with grief
Tempestuous, and with rage, distemper'd deep.
This done, nor waiting for reply, alone

He sought the vale, and his calm cottage gain'd.

CANTO III.

WHERE Kilda's southern hills their summit lift
With triple fork to Heaven, the mounted Sun
Full, from the midmost, shot in dazzling stream
His noon-tide ray. And now, in lowing train,
Were seen slow-pacing westward o'er the vale
The milky mothers, foot pursuing foot,
And nodding as they move; their oozy meal,
The bitter healthful berbage of the shore,
Around its rocks to graze 4: for, strange to tell!
The hour of ebb, though ever varying found,
As yon pale planet wheels from day to day
Her course inconstant, their sure instinct feels,
Intelligent of times; by Heaven's own hand,
To all its creatures equal in its care,
Unerring mov'd. These signs observ'd, that guide
To labour and repose a simple race,
These native signs to due repast at noon,
Frugal and plain, had warn'd the temperate isle:
All but Aurelius. He, unhappy man,
By Nature's voice solicited in vain,
Nor hour observ'd, nor due repast partook.
The child no more! the mother's fate untold!
Both in black prospect rising to his eye-
"Twas anguish there; 'twas here distracting doubt!
Yet, after long and painful conflict borne,
Where Nature, Reason, oft the doubtful scale
Inclin'd alternate, summoning each aid
That Virtue lends, and o'er each thought infirm
Superior rising, in the might of him,

Who strength from weakness, as from darkness light,
Onnipotent can draw; again resign'd,
Again he sacrific'd, to Heaven's high will,
Each soothing weakness of a parent's breast;
The sigh soft memory prompts; the tender tear,
That, streaming o'er an object lov'd and lost,
With mournful tragic tortures and delights,
Relieves us, while its sweet oppression loads,
And, by admitting, blunts the sting of woe.

As Reason thus the mental storm seren'd,
And through the darkness shot her sun-bright ray
That strengthens while it cheers; behold from far
Amyntor slow approaching! on his front,

4 The cows often feed on the alga marina: and they can distinguish exactly the tide of ebb from the tide of flood; though, at the same time, they are not within view of the shore. When the tide has ebbed about two hours, then they steer their course directly to the nearest shore, in their usual order, one after another. I had occasion to make this observation thirteen times in one week. Martin's Western Isles of Scotland, p. 156.

O'er each sunk feature sorrow had diffus'd

Attraction, sweetly sad. His noble port,
Majestic in distress, Aurelius mark'd;
And, unresisting, felt his bosom flow
With social softness. Straight, before the door
Of his moss-silver'd cell they sat them down
In counterview: and thus the youth began.

"With patient ear, with calm attention, mark
Amyntor's story: then, as Justice sees,
On either hand, her equal balance weigh,
Absolve him, or condemn-But oh, may I,
A father's name, when truth forbids to praise,
Unblam'd pronounce? that name to every son
By Heaven made sacred; and by Nature's hand,
With Honour, Duty, Love, her triple pale,
Fenc'd strongly round, to bar the rude approach
Of each irreverent thought.-These eyes, alas!
The curs'd effects of sanguinary zeal

Too near beheld: its madness how extreme;
How blind its fury, by the prompting priest,
Each tyrant's ready instrument of ill,
Train'd on to holy mischief. Scene abhorr'd!
Fell Cruelty let loose in Mercy's name:
Intolerance, while o'er the free-born mind
Her heaviest chains were cast, her iron scourge
Severest hung, yet daring to appeal

That Power whose law is meekness; and, for deeds
That outrage Heaven, belying Heaven's command.
"Flexile of will, misjudging, though sincere,
Rolando caught the spread infection, plung'd
Implicit into guilt, and headlong urg'd
His course unjust to violence and rage.
Unmanly rage! when nor the charm divine
Of beauty, nor the matron's sacred age,
Secure from wrongs, could innocence secure,
Found reverence or distinction. Yet, sustain'd
By conscious worth within, the matchless pair
Their threatening fate, imprisonment and scorn
And death denounc'd, unshrinking, unsubdued
To murmur or complaint, superior bore,
With patient hope, with fortitude resign'd,
Nor built on pride, nor counting vain applause;
But calmly constant, without effort great,
What reason dictates, and what Heaven approves.
"But how proceed, Aurelius? in what sounds
Of gracious cadence, of assuasive power,
My further story clothe? O could I steal
From Harmony her softest-warbled strain
Of melting air! or Zephyre's vernal voice!
Or Philomela's song, when love dissolves
To liquid blandishment his evening lay,
All nature smiling round! then might I speak;
Then might Amyntor, unoffending, tell,
How unperceiv'd and secret through his breast,
As morning rises o'er the midnight-shade,
What first was ow'd humanity to both,
Assisting piety and tender thought,
Grew swift and silent into love for one:
My sole offence-if love can then offend,
When virtue lights and reverence guards its flame.
"O Theodora ! who thy world of charms,
That soul of sweetness, that soft glow of youth,
Warm on thy cheek, and beaming from thine eye,
Unmov'd could see? that dignity of ease,
That grace of air, by happy nature thine!
For all in thee was native; .from within
Spontaneous flowing, as some equal stream
From its unfailing source! and then too seen
In milder lights; by sorrow's shading hand
Touch'd into power more exquisitely soft,

By tears adorn'd, intender'd by distress.
O sweetness without name! when Love looks on
With Pity's melting eye, that to the soul
Endears, ennobles her, whom Fate afflicts,
Or Fortune leaves unhappy! Passion then
Refines to virtue: then a purer train
Of heaven-inspir'd emotions, undebas'd
By self-regard, or thought of due return,
The breast expanding, all its powers exalt
To emulate what reason best conceives
Of love celestial; whose prevenient aid
Forbids approaching ill; or gracious draws,
When the lone heart with anguish inly bleeds,
From pain its sting, its bitterness from woe!

"By this plain courtship of the honest heart
To pity mov'd, at length my pleaded vows
The gentle maid with unreluctant ear
Would oft admit; would oft endearing crown
With smiles of kind assent, with looks that spoke,
In blushing softness, her chaste bosom touch'd
To mutual love. O fortune's fairest hour!
O seen, but not enjoy'd, just hail'd and lost
It's flattering brightness! Theodora's form,
Event unfear'd! had caught Rolando's eye:
And Love, if wild Desire, of Fancy born,
By furious passions nurs'd, that sacred name
Profanes not, Love his stubborn breast dissolv'd
To transient goodness. But my thought shrinks back,
Reluctant to proceed: and filial awe,
With pious hand, would o'er a parent's crime
The veil of silence and oblivious night
Permitted throw. His impious suit repell'd,
Aw'd from her eye, and from her lip severe
Dash'd with indignant scorn; each harbour'd thought
Of soft emotion or of social sense,

Love, pity, kindness, alien to a soul
That Bigot-rage embosoms, fled at once:
And all the savage reassum'd his breast.

''Tis just,' he cry'd: who thus invites disdain,
Deserves repulse; he who, by slave-like arts,
Would meanly steal what force may nobler take,
And, greatly daring, dignify the deed.
When next we meet, our mutual blush to spare,
Thine from dissembling, from base flattery mine,
Shall be my care.' This threat, by brutal scorn
Keen'd and embitter'd, terrible to both,

To one prov'd fatal. Silent-wasting grief,
The mortal worm that on Emilia's frame
Had prey'd unseen, now deep through all her powers
Its poison spread, and kill'd their vital growth.
Sickening, she sunk beneath this double weight
Of shame and horrour.-Dare I yet proceed?
Aurelius, O most injur'd of mankind!
Shall yet my tale, exasperating, add
To woe, new anguish and to grief, despair-
She is no more-"

"O Providence severe !"
Aurelius smote his breast, and groaning cry'd;
But curb'd a second groan, repell'd the voice
Of froward grief: and to the will supreme,
In justice awful, lowly bending his,
Nor sigh, nor murmur, nor repining plaint,
By all the war of nature though assail'd,
Escap'd his lips. "What! shall we, from Heaven's
With life receiving happiness, our share [grace
Of ill refuse? And are afflictions aught
But mercies in disguise? th' alternate cup,
Medicinal though bitter, and prepar'd
By Love's own hand for salutary ends.
But were they ills indeed; can fond complaint

Arrest the wing of Time? Can grief command
This noon-day Sun to roll his flaming orb
Back to yon eastern coast, and bring again
The hours of yesterday? or from the womb
Of that unsounded deep the bary'd corse
To light and life restore? Blest pair, farewell!
Yet, yet a few short days of erring grief,
Of human fondness sighing in the breast,
And sorrow is no more. Now, gentle youth,
And let me call thee son, (for O that name
Thy faith, thy friendship, thy true portion borne
Of pains for me, too sadly have deserv'd)
On with thy tale. 'Tis mine, when Heaven afflicts,
To hearken and adore." The patient man
Thus spoke: Amyntor thus his story clos'd.

"As, dumb with anguish, round the bed of death
Weeping we knelt, to mine she faintly rais'd
Her closing eyes; then fixing, in cold gaze,
On Theodora's face- O save my child!'
She said; and, shrinking from her pillow, slept
Without a groan, a pang. In hallow'd earth
I saw her shrouded; bade eternal peace
Her shade receive, and, with the truest tears
Affection ever wept, her dust bedew'd.

"What then remain'd for honour or for love? What, but that scene of violence to fly, With guilt profan'd, and terrible with death, Rolando's fatal roof. Late at the hour, When shade and silence o'er this nether orb With drowsiest influence reign, the waining Moon Ascending mournful in the midnight sphere; On that drear spot, within whose cavern'd womb Emilia sleeps, and by the turf that veils Her honour'd clay, alone and kneeling there I found my Theodora! Thrill'd with awe, With sacred terrour, which the time, the place, Pour'd on us, sadly-solemn, I too bent My trembling knee, and lock'd in her's my hand Across her parent's grave. By this dread scene! By night's pale regent! By yon glorious tram Of ever-moving fires that round her burn! By Death's dark empire! by the sheeted dust That once was man, now mouldering here below! But chief by her's, at whose nocturnal tomb, Reverent we kneel! and by her nobler part, Th' unbody'd spirit, hovering near, perhaps, As witness to our vows! nor time, nor chance, Nor aught but Death's inevitable hand, Shalf e'er divide our loves.'—I led her thence: To where, safe-station'd in a secret bay, Rough of descent, and brown with pendent pines That murmur'd to the gale, our bark was moor'd. We sail'd-But, O my father; can I speak What yet remains? yon ocean black with storm! Its useless sails rent from the groaning pine! The speechless crew aghast! and that lost fair! Still, still I see her! feel her heart pant thick ! And hear her voice, in ardent vows to Heaven For me alone preferr'd; as on my arm, Expiring, sinking with her fears she hung! I kiss'd her pale cold cheek! with tears adjur'd, And won at last, with sums of proffer'd gold, The boldest mariners, this precious charge Instant to save; and, in the skiff secur'd, Their cars across the foamy flood to ply With unremitting arm. I then prepar'd To follow her-That moment, from the deck, A sea swell'd o'er, and plung'd me in the gulf. Nor me alone: its broad and billowing sweep Must have involv'd her too. Mysterious Heaven!

VOL. XIV.

My fatal love on her devoted head
Drew down-it must be so! the judgment due
To me and mine: or was Amyntor sav'd
For its whole quiver of remaining wrath?
For storms more fierce? for pains of sharper sting?
And years of death to come?"-Nor further voice,
Nor flowing tear his high-wrought grief supply'd:
With arms outspread, with eyes in hopeless gaze
To Heaven uplifted, motionless and mute
He stood, the mournful semblance of Despair.

The lamp of day, though from mid-noon declin'd,
Still flaming with full ardour, shot on Earth
Oppressive brightness round; till in soft steam
From Ocean's bosom his light vapour's drawn,
With grateful intervention o'er the sky
Their veil diffusive spread; the scene abroad
Soft-shadowing, vale and plain, and dazzling hill.
Aurelius, with his gnest, the western cliff
Ascending slow, beneath its marble roof,
From whence in double stream a lucid source
Roll'd sounding forth, and, where with dewy wing
Fresh breezes play'd, sought refuge and repose,
Till cooler hours arise. The subject isle
Her village-capital, where health and peace
Are tutelary gods; her small domain
Of arable and pasture, vein'd with streams
That branching bear refreshful moisture on
To field and mead; her straw-roof'd temple rude,
Where Piety, not Pride, adoring kneels,
Lay full in view. From scene to scene around
Aurelius gaz'd; and, sighing, thus began.

"Not we alone; alas! in every clime, The human race are sons of sorrow born. Heirs of transmitted labour and disease, Of pain and grief, from sire to son deriv'd, All have their mournful portion; all must bear Th' impos'd condition of their mortal state, Vicissitude of suffering. Cast thine eye Where yonder vale, Amyntor, sloping spreads Full to the noon-tide beam its primrose-lap, From hence due east." Amyntor look'd, and saw, Not without wonder at a sight so strange, Where thrice three females, earnest each and arm'd With rural instruments, the soil prepar'd For future harvest. These the trenchant spade, To turn the mould and break th' adhesive clods, Employ'd assiduous. Those, with equal pace, And arm alternate, strew'd its fresh lap white With fruitful Ceres: while, in train behind, Three more th' encumbent harrow heavy on O'er-labour'd drew, and clos'd the toilsome task. "Behold!" Aurelius thus his speech renew'd, "From that soft sex, too delicately fram'd For toils like these, the task of rougher man, What yet necessity demands severe. Twelve suns have purpled these encircling hills With orient beams, as many nights along Their dewy summits drawn th' alternate veil Of darkness, since, in unpropitious hour, The husbands of those widow'd mates, who now For both must labour, lanch'd, in quest of food, Their island-skiff adventurous on the deep. Them, while the sweeping net secure they plung'd The finny race to snare, whose foodful shoals Each creek and bay innumerable crowd, As annual on from shore to shore they move In watry caravan; them, thus intent, Dark from the south a gust of furious wing, Up-springing, drove to sea, and left in tears This little world of brothers and of friends!

D