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The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter,

The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The Snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill

On the top of the bare hill;

The Plough-boy is whooping-anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There 's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing ;

The rain is over and gone!

GIPSIES.

YET are they here the same unbroken knot
Of human Beings, in the self-same spot!

Men, Women, Children, yea the frame
Of the whole Spectacle the same!
Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light,
Now deep and red, the colouring of night;

That on their Gipsy-faces falls,

Their bed of straw and blanket-walls.

-Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours, are gone while I
Have been a Traveller under open sky,

Much witnessing of change and cheer,
Yet as I left I find them here!
The weary Sun betook himself to rest.
-Then issued Vesper from the fulgent West,
Outshining like a visible God

The glorious path in which he trod.
And now, ascending, after one dark hour
And one night's diminution of her power,

Behold the mighty Moon! this way
She looks as if at them-but they
Regard not her:-oh better wrong and strife,
(By nature transient) than such torpid life;
Life which the very stars reprove
As on their silent tasks they move!
Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or earth!

In scorn I speak not;-they are what their birth
And breeding suffers them to be;
Wild outcasts of society!

BEGGARS.

BEFORE me as the Wanderer stood,

No bonnet screened her from the heat;

Nor claimed she service from the hood

Of a blue mantle, to her feet

Depending with a graceful flow;

Only she wore a cap pure as unsullied snow.

Her skin was of Egyptian brown;

Haughty as if her eye had seen

Its own light to a distance thrown,

She towered-fit person for a Queen,

To head those ancient Amazonian files;

Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian Isles.

Her suit no faltering scruples checked;

Forth did she pour, in current free,
Tales that could challenge no respect

But from a blind credulity;

And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature

Was beautiful to see-a weed of glorious feature!

I left her, and pursued my way;
And soon before me did espy
A pair of little Boys at play,
Chasing a crimson butterfly:

The Taller followed with his hat in hand,

Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of

the land.

The Other wore a rimless crown
With leaves of laurel stuck about;
And, while both followed up and down,
Each whooping with a merry shout,

In their fraternal features I could trace

Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face.

Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit
For finest tasks of earth or air:

Wings let them have, and they might flit
Precursors of Aurora's Car,

Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green.

They dart across my path-but lo,
Each ready with a plaintive whine!
Said I, «not half an hour ago

Your Mother has had alms of mine.>>

<< That cannot be,» one answered-« she is dead:»

I looked reproof - they saw - but neither hung his head.

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And waken a relenting smile
When she encounters fraud or guile;
And sometimes ye can charm away
The inward mischief, or allay,
Ye, who within the blameless mind
Your favourite seat of empire find!

They met me in a genial hour,
When universal nature breathed

As with the breath of one sweet flower,-
A time to overrule the power

Of discontent, and check the birth

Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife,
The most familiar bane of life
Since parting Innocence bequeathed
Mortality to Earth!

Soft clouds, the whitest of the

year,

Sailed through the sky- the brooks ran clear;
The lambs from rock to rock were bounding;
With songs the budded groves resounding;
And to my heart is still endeared
The faith with which it then was cheered;
The faith which saw that gladsome pair
Walk through the fire with unsinged hair.

Or, if such thoughts must needs deceive,
Kind Spirits! may we not believe
That they, so happy and so fair,
Through your sweet influence, and the care
Of pitying Heaven, at least were free
From touch of deadly injury?
Destined, whate'er their earthly doom,
For mercy and immortal bloom!

RUTH.

WHEN Ruth was left half desolate,
Her Father took another Mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
A slighted Child, at her own will
Went wandering over dale and hill,
In thoughtless freedom bold.

And she had made a Pipe of straw,
And from that oaten Pipe could draw
All sounds of winds and floods;
Had built a Bower upon the green,
As if she from her birth had been
An Infant of the woods.

Beneath her Father's roof, alone

She seemed to live; her thoughts her own;

Herself her own delight;

Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay;
And passing thus the live-long day,

She grew to Woman's height.

There came a Youth from Georgia's shore

A military Casque he wore,

With splendid feathers drest;

He brought them from the Cherokees;

The feathers nodded in the breeze,

And made a gallant crest.

From Indian blood you deem him sprung:
Ah no! he spake the English tongue,
And bore a Soldier's name;

And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, He 'cross the ocean came.

With hues of genius on his cheek
In finest tones the Youth could speak.
-While he was yet a Boy,

The moon, the glory of the sun,
And streams that murmur as they run,
Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess
The panther in the wilderness
Was not so fair as he;

And, when he chose to sport and play,
No dolphin ever was so gay
Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought;
And with him many tales he brought
Of pleasure and of fear;

Such tales as told to any Maid

By such a Youth, in the green shade,
Were perilous to hear.

He told of Girls—a happy rout!
Who quit their fold with dance and shout,
Their pleasant Indian Town,

To gather strawberries all day long;
Returning with a choral song
When daylight is gone down.

He spake of plants divine and strange
That every hour their blossoms change,
Ten thousand lovely hues'
With budding, fading, faded flowers
They stand the wonder of the bowers
From morn to evening dews.

He told of the Magnolia,' spread
High as a cloud, high over head!

The Cypress and her spire;

-Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam3 Cover a hundred leagues, and seem

To set the hills on fire.

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« WITH sacrifice before the rising morn
Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired;
And from the infernal Gods, mid shades forlorn,
Of night, my slaughtered Lord have I required:
Celestial pity I again implore; -
Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!»

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed
With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands;
While, like the Sun emerging from a Cloud,
Her countenance brightens—and her eye expands;
Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows;
And she expects the issue in repose.

O terror! what hath she perceived ?—O Joy!
What doth she look on?-whom doth she behold?
Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence-his corporeal mould?
It is if sense deceive her not-'t is He!
And a God leads him-winged Mercury!

Mild Hermes spake-and touched her with his wand
That calms all fear, «Such grace hath crowned thy prayer,
Laodamia! that at Jove's command

Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air:
He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space;
Accept the gift, behold him face to face!»>

Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp;
Again that consummation she essayed;
But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp
As often as that eager grasp was made.
The Phantom parts-but parts to re-unite,
And re-assume his place before her sight.

« Protesilaus, lo! thy guide is gone!
Confirm, I pray, the Vision with thy voice:
This is our Palace,-yonder is thy throne:
Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.
Not to appal me have the Gods bestowed
This precious boon,-and blest a sad Abode.»

<< Great Jove, Laodamia! doth not leave
His gifts imperfect :-Spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
But in reward of thy fidelity.
And something also did my worth obtain;
For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

« Thou know'st, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand Should die; but me the threat could not withhold:

A generous cause a Victim did demand; And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain; A self-devoted Chief-by Hector slain.»>

Supreme of Heroes-bravest, noblest, best! Thy matchless courage I bewail no more, Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore; Thou found'st-and I forgive thee-here thou art— A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

<< But thou, though capable of sternest deed,
Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave;
And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed
That thou should'st cheat the malice of the grave;
Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair
As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

«No Spectre greets me,-no vain Shadow this:
Come, blooming Hero, place thee by my side!
Give, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss
To me, this day, a second time thy bride!>>

Jove frowned in heaven; the conscious Parce threw
Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue.

«This visage tells thee that my doom is past:
Know, virtue were not virtue if the joys
Of sense were able to return as fast
And surely as they vanish.-Earth destroys
Those raptures duly-Erebus disdains:
Calm pleasures there abide-majestic pains.

« Be taught, O faithful Consort, to control
Rebellious passion: for the Gods approve
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul;
A fervent, not ungovernable love.
Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn
When I depart, for brief is my sojourn->>

« Ah, wherefore?-Did not Hercules by force Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb Alcestis, a reanimated Corse,

Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years, And Eson stood a Youth 'mid youthful peers.

<< The Gods to us are merciful-and they
Yet further may relent: for mightier far
Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway
Of magic potent over sun and star,

Is love, though oft to agony distrest,

And though his favourite seat be feeble Woman's breast.

«But if thou go'st I follow-» « Peace!» he said-
She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered;
The ghastly colour from his lips had fled;
In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace,
Brought from a pensive though a happy place.

He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel
In worlds whose course is equable and pure;
No fears to beat away-no strife to heal-
The past unsighed for, and the future sure;
Spake of heroic arts in graver mood
Revived, with finer harmony pursued:

Of all that is most beauteous-imaged there
In happier beauty; more pellucid streams,
An ampler ether, a diviner air,

And fields invested with purpureal gleams;
Climes which the Sun, who sheds the brightest day
Earth knows, is all unworthy to survey.

Yet there the Soul shall enter which hath earned
That privilege by virtue.-« Ill,» said he,

<< The end of man's existence I discerned,
Who from ignoble games and revelry
Could draw, when we had parted, vain delight
While tears were thy best pastime,—day and night :

<«< And while my youthful peers, before my eyes,
(Each Hero following his peculiar bent)
Prepared themselves for glorious enterprise
By martial sports,-or, seated in the tent,
Chieftains and kings in council were detained;
What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.

«The wished-for wind was given :-I then revolved The oracle, upon the silent sea;

And, if no worthier led the way, resolved
That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be
The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,-
Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.

«Yet bitter, oft-times bitter, was the pang
When of thy loss I thought, beloved Wife!
On thee too fondly did my memory hang,
And on the joys we shared in mortal life,—
The paths which we had trod-these fountains-flowers;
My new-planned Cities, and unfinished Towers.

« But should suspense permit the Foe to cry,
Behold they tremble!-haughty their array,
Yet of their number no one dares to die!'-
In soul I swept the indignity away:
Old frailties then recurred

but lofty thought, In act embodied, my deliverance wrought.

<«< And thou, though strong in love, art all too weak In reason, in self-government too slow;

I counsel thee by fortitude to seek

Our blest re-union in the shades below.

The invisible world with thee hath sympathized;

Be thy affections raised and solemnized.

« Learn by a mortal yearning to ascend
Towards a higher object.-Love was given,
Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end :
For this the passion to excess was driven-
That self might be annulled; her bondage prove
The fetters of a dream, opposed to love.»>

Aloud she shrieked! for Hermes re-appears!
Round the dear Shade she would have clung-'tis vain,
The hours are past-too brief had they been years;
And him no mortal effort can detain:

Swift, tow'rd the realms that know not earthly day,
He through the portal takes his silent way,
And on the palace floor a lifeless corse she lay.

By no weak pity might the Gods be moved; She who thus perished not without the crime

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