4. Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope Did thine own mind afford no scope Of love or moving thoughts to thee- Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles? Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted; Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed : But changed to a foul fiend through misery. STANZAS-APRIL 1814. AWAY! the moor is dark beneath the moon, Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even : Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven. Pause not! the time is past! Every voice cries "Away!" Tempt not with one last glance thy friend's ungentle mood: Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay: Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude. Away, away! to thy sad and silent home; Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth; Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come, And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth. The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head, The blooms of dewy Spring shall gleam beneath thy feet: But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead, Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace, may meet. The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose, For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep; Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows; Whatever moves or toils or grieves hath its appointed sleep. Thou in the grave shalt rest :-yet, till the phantoms flee Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile, Thy remembrance and repentance and deep musings are not free From the music of two voices, and the light of one sweet smile. MUTABILITY. I. WE are as clouds that veil the midnight moon; Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:- 3. We rest-a dream has power to poison sleep; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away :- 4. It is the same!-For, be it joy or sorrow, ON DEATH. There is no work nor device nor knowledge nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest.-ECCLESIASTES. I. THE pale, the cold, and the moony smile Ere the dawning of morn's undoubted light Is the flame of life so fickle and wan That flits round our steps till their strength is gone. 2. O man! hold thee on in courage of soul Through the stormy shades of thy worldly way; 3. This world is the nurse of all we know, This world is the mother of all we feel; To a brain unencompassed with nerves of steel, Shall pass like an unreal mystery. 4. The secret things of the grave are there Where all but this frame must surely be, Though the fine-wrought eye and the wondrous ear No longer will live to hear or to see All that is great and all that is strange In the boundless realm of unending change. 430 5. Who telleth a tale of unspeaking death? Who lifteth the veil of what is to come? The wide-winding caves of the peopled tomb? With the fears and the love for that which we see? A SUMMER-EVENING CHURCHYARD, LECHLADE, GLOUCESTERSHIRE. I. THE wind has swept from the wide atmosphere 2. They breathe their spells towards the departing day, 3. Thou too, aërial pile, whose pinnacles Point from one shrine like pyramids of fire, Obey'st in silence their sweet solemn spells, Clothing in hues of heaven thy dim and distant spire, Around whose lessening and invisible height Gather among the stars the clouds of night. 4. The dead are sleeping in their sepulchres : And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrilling sound, 5. Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight 1815. That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep. TO WORDSWORTH. POET of Nature, thou hast wept to know Childhood and youth, friendship, and love's first glow, Which thou too feel'st, yet I alone deplore. Thus, having been, that thou shouldst cease to be. FEELINGS OF A REPUBLICAN ON THE FALL OF I HATED thee, fallen Tyrant! I did groan Like thou, should dance and revel on the grave A frail and bloody pomp, which Time has swept For this, I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept, And stifled thee their minister. I know Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, Legal Crime, LINES. I. THE cold earth slept below; With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow 2. The wintry hedge was black; The green grass was not seen; On the bare thorn's breast, Whose roots, beside the pathway track, 3. Thine eyes glowed in the glare On a sluggish stream Gleams dimly, so the moon shone there; 4. The moon made thy lips pale, beloved; On thy dear head Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie |