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For thou hast fill'd each languid vein
With vigour, life, and strength again,
When pale, enervate, wan, and weak,
Despair and sickness seized my cheek.

O, could my voice such numbers raise,
Thee and thy healing founts to praise,
As might with themes so high agree,
Praise worthy them and worthy thee!
O nymph, admit me of thy train,
With thee to range the breezy plain;
And fresh and strong my limbs to lave
Beneath thy nerve-restoring wave.
With thee to rouse the slumbering morn
With opening hound and cheering horn,
With shouts that shake each wood and hill,
While mocking Echo takes her fill.

O lover of the daisied lawn!

"Tis thine, at earliest peep of dawn,
The ranging forester to greet;
Or the blithe lass, whose tripping feet,
All as she sings beneath the pail,
Imprint long traces o'er the vale.
Nor seekest thou the proud resorts
Of cities and licentious courts,
Where Sloth and Gluttony abide,
With bloated Surfeit by their side;
But humbly scornest not to dwell
With Temperance in the rural cell;
To watch the sheepboy at his stand,
Or ploughman on the furrow'd land.
These climates cold, these barren plains,
Where rude uncultured Nature reigns,
Better thy hardy manners please
Than bowers of Luxury and Ease.
And oft you trip these hills among
With Exercise, a sportsman young,
Who, starting at the call of day,
Cuffs drowsy Indolence away,

And climbs with many a sturdy stride
The mossy mountain's quivering side;
Nor fleeting mist nor sullen storm
Nor blast nor whirlwind can deform
The careless scene when thou art there
With Cheerfulness, thy daughter fair.
From thee, bright Health, all blessings spring!
Hither thy blooming children bring,-
Light-hearted Mirth and Sport and Joy
And young-eyed Love, thy darling boy.
"T is thou hast pour'd o'er Beauty's face
Its artless bloom, its native grace;
Thou on my Laura's cheek hast spread
The peach's blush, the rose's red;
With quickening life thy touch supplies
The polish'd lustre of her eyes:
O, ever make thy dwelling there,
And guard from harm my favourite fair!
O, let no blighting grief come nigh;
And chase away each hurtful sigh,
Disease, with sickly yellow spread,
And Pain that holds the drooping head!
There, as her beauties you defend,
Oft may her eye in kindness bend
(So doubly bounteous wilt thou prove)
On me who live but in her love.



WHAT hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells?
Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious Main!
Pale glist'ning pearls, and rainbow-colour'd shells,
Bright things which gleam unreck'd of and in


Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea!

We ask not such from thee.

Yet more, the Depths have more!-What wealth untold,

Far down, and shining through their stillness, lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold,

Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.

Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful Main! Earth claims not these again!

Yet more, the Depths have more!-Thy waves have roll'd

Above the cities of the world gone by!
Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old,
Seaweed o'ergrown the halls of revelry!
Dash o'er them, Ocean! in thy scornful play,
Man yields them to decay!

Yet more! the Billows and the Depths have more!
High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast!
They hear not now the booming waters roar,-
The battle-thunders will not break their rest.
Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave!-
Give back the true and brave!

Give back the lost and lovely!-Those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long; The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom,

And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown, -But all is not thine own!



THE MOON is up, and yet it is not night—
Sunset divides the sky with her a sea
Of glory streams along the Alpine height
Of blue Friuli's mountains; heaven is free

From clouds, but of all colours seems to be
Meited to one vast iris of the west,

Where the day joins the past eternity;

While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air-an island of the blest!

A single star is at her side, and reigns

With her o'er half the lovely heaven; but still Yon sunny sea heaves brightly, and remains Roll'd o'er the peak of the far Rhætian hill, As day and night contending were, until Nature reclaim'd her order :-gently flows The deep-dyed Brenta, where their hues instil The odorous purple of a new-born rose, Which streams upon her stream, and glass'd within it glows.

Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar,
Comes down upon the waters; all its hues,
From the rich sunset to the rising star,
Their magical variety diffuse:

And now they change; a paler shadow strews
Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps away,

The last still loveliest, till-'tis gone-and all is gray.



I'LL tell you, friend, what sort of wife,
Whene'er I scan this scene of life,
Inspires my waking schemes,
And when I sleep, with form so light,
Dances before my ravish'd sight,
In sweet aerial dreams.

The rose its blushes need not lend,
Nor yet the lily with them blend,
To captivate my eyes.

Give me a cheek the heart obeys,
And, sweetly mutable, displays
Its feelings as they rise;

Features, where pensive, more than gay,
Save when a rising smile doth play,
The sober thought you see;
Eyes that all soft and tender seem,
And kind affections round them beam,
But most of all on me;

A form, though not of finest mould,
Where yet a something you behold
Unconsciously doth please;
Manners all graceful without art,
That to each look and word impart
A modesty and ease.

But still her air, her face, each charm,
Must speak a heart with feeling warm,
And mind inform the whole;

With mind her mantling cheek must glow,
Her voice, her beaming eye must show
An all-inspiring soul.

Ah! could I such a being find,

And were her fate to mine but join'd

By Hymen's silken tie,

To her myself, my all I'd give,
For her alone delighted live,

For her consent to die.

Whene'er by anxious gloom oppress'd,
On the soft pillow of her breast

My aching head I'd lay;

At her sweet smile each care should cease, Her kiss infuse a balmy peace,

And drive my griefs away.

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