IX. THE massy Ways, carried across these heights grey line. No longer, scattering to the heedless winds The vocal raptures of fresh poesy, Shall he frequent these precincts; locked no more In earnest converse with beloved Friends, Here will he gather stores of ready bliss, As from the beds and borders of a garden 1826. X. INSCRIPTIONS SUPPOSED TO BE FOUND IN AND NEAR A HERMIT'S CELL. 1818. I. HOPES what are they?-Beads of morning Strung on slender blades of grass; Or a spider's web adorning In a strait and treacherous pass. What are fears but voices airy? Till the fatal bolt is shot! What is glory?-in the socket What is pride?—a whizzing rocket What is friendship?-do not trust her, What is truth?-a staff rejected; Bright, as if through ether steering, Such is Joy-as quickly hidden, What is youth ?-a dancing billow, (Winds behind, and rocks before!) Age?-a drooping, tottering willow On a flat and lazy shore. What is peace ?-when pain is Let the last faint sigh discover That precedes the passing-knell! over, XI. INSCRIBED UPON A ROCK. 11. PAUSE, Traveller! whosoe'er thou be Whom chance may lead to this retreat, Where silence yields reluctantly Even to the fleecy straggler's bleat; Give voice to what my hand shall trace, I saw this Rock, while vernal air Unsullied did it meet the day, My fancy kindled as I gazed; But frost had reared the gorgeous Pile And, while I gazed, with sudden shock XII. III. HAST thou seen, with flash incessant, Bubbles gliding under ice, Bodied forth and evanescent, No one knows by what device? Such are thoughts !—A wind-swept meadow Mimicking a troubled sea, Such is life; and death a shadow From the rock eternity! |