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There in her place she did rejoice,
Then stept she down through town and field
Grave mother of majestic works,
From her isle-altar gazing down,
Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years
Keep dry their light from tears;
That her fair form may stand and shine,
The falsehood of extremes !
"LOVE THOU THY LAND, WITH LOVE FAR BROUGHT."
LOVE thou thy land, with love far brought
True love turned round on fixéd poles,
But pamper not a hasty time,
Deliver not the tasks of might
To weakness, neither hide the ray From those, not blind, who wait for day, Though sitting girt with doubtful light.
Make knowledge circle with the winds:
Watch what main-currents draw the years:
Nor toil for title, place, or touch
Of pension, neither count on praise:
Not clinging to some ancient saw:
Not mastered by some modern term; Not swift nor slow to change, but firm: And in its season bring the law;
That from Discussion's lip may fall
For Nature also, cold and warm,
Meet is it changes should control
So let the change which comes be free
A saying hard to shape in act;
For all the past of Time reveals
Even now we hear with inward strife
A slow-developed strength awaits
Completion in a painful school; Phantoms of other forms of rule, New Majesties of mighty States
The warders of the growing hour,
But vague in vapor, hard to mark; And round them sea and air are dark With great contrivances of Power.
Of many changes, aptly joined,
Is bodied forth the second whole.
Regard gradation, lest the soul Of Discord race the rising wind:
A wind to puff your idol-fires,
And heap their ashes on the head; To shame the boast so often made, That we are wiser than our sires.
O yet, if Nature's evil star
If New and Old, disastrous feud,
Must ever shock, like armed foes,
Not yet the wise of heart would cease
Not less, though dogs of Faction bay,
Would serve his kind in deed and word, Certain, if knowledge bring the sword, That knowledge takes the sword away—
Would love the gleams of good that broke From either side, nor veil his eyes:
And if some dreadful need should rise, Would strike, and firmly, and one stroke:
To-morrow yet would reap to-day,
As we bear blossom of the dead;
I KNEW an old wife lean and poor,
He held a goose upon
He uttered rhyme and reason, "Here, take the goose, and keep you warm, It is a stormy season."
She caught the white goose by the leg,
She dropt the goose, and caught the pelf,
And feeding high, and living soft,
So sitting, served by man and maid,
It cluttered here, it chuckled there;
"A quinsy choke thy cursed note!" Then waxed her anger stronger.