From intricate cabals of treacherous friends. I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth,

Could represent the countenance horrible

No-he was One whose memory ought to spread

Where'er Permessus bears an honoured

name,

sea's pride

Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow.
What noble pomp and frequent have not I
On regal decks beheld! yet in the end
I learned that one poor moment can suffice
To equalise the lofty and the low.
We sail the sea of life—a Calm One finds,
And One a Tempest — and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all.

If more of my condition ye would know,
Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang
Of noble parents; seventy years and three
Lived I then yielded to a slow disease.

V

1810. 1837

TRUE is it that Ambrosio Salinero
With an untoward fate was long involved
In odious litigation; and full long,
Fate harder still! had he to endure assaults
Of racking malady. And true it is
That not the less a frank courageous heart
And buoyant spirit triumphed over pain;
And he was strong to follow in the steps
Of the fair Muses. Not a covert path
Leads to the dear Parnassian forest's shade,
That might from him be hidden; not a
track

Mounts to pellucid Hippocrene, but he
Had traced its windings. This Savona
knows,

Yet no sepulchral honours to her Son
She paid, for in our age the heart is ruled
Only by gold. And now a simple stone
Inscribed with this memorial here is raised
By his bereft, his lonely, Chiabrera.
Think not, O Passenger! who read'st the
lines,

That an exceeding love hath dazzled me;

flow.

And, should the out-pourings of her eyes suffice not

For her heart's grief, she will entreat Sebeto

Not to withhold his bounteous aid, Sebeto Who saw thee, on his margin, yield to death,

In the chaste arms of thy beloved Love! What profit riches? what does youth avail ! Dust are our hopes; - I, weeping bitterly,

And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,
Enriched and beautified his studious mind:
With Archimedes also he conversed
As with a chosen friend; nor did he leave
Those laureat wreaths ungathered which
the Nymphs

Twine near their loved Permessus.
Finally,

Himself above each lower thought uplifting,

His ears he closed to listen to the songs
Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old;
And his Permessus found on Lebanon.
A blessed Man! who of protracted days
Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep;
But truly did He live his life. Urbino,
Take pride in him!- O Passenger, fare-
well!

Written at Allanbank, Grasmere. Picture of my Daughter Catharine, who died the year after.

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,
Not less if unattended and alone
Than when both young and old sit gathered
round

And take delight in its activity;
Even so this happy Creature of herself
Is all-sufficient, solitude to her

Is blithe society, who fills the air
With gladness and involuntary songs.
Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's

couched;

No craft this subtle element can bind, Rising like water from the soil, to find In every nook a lip that it may cheer.

This poem opened, when first written, with a paragraph that has been transferred as an introduction to the first series of my Scotch Memorials. The journey, of which the first part is here described, was from Grasmere to Bootle on the south-west coast of Cumberland, the whole among mountain roads through a beautiful country; and we had fine weather. The verses end with our breakfast at the head of Yewdale in a yeoman's house, which, like all the other property in that sequestered vale, has passed or is passing into the hands of Mr. James Marshall of Monk Coniston, - in Mr. Knott's, the late owner's, time called Waterhead. Our hostess married a Mr. Oldfield, a lieutenant in the Navy: they lived together for some time at Hacket, where she still resides as