But many a rank weed round it grows apace, And Mammon builds beside thy mighty floods, O'ertopping Nature, braving Nature's God; O while thou yet hast room, fair fruitful land, 15 Ere war and want have stained thy virgin sod, Mark thee a place on high, a glorious stand, Whence Truth her sign may make o'er forest, lake, and strand. Eastward, this hour, perchance thou turn'st thine ear, Listening if haply with the surging sea, 20 Blend sounds of Ruin from a land once dear To thee and Heaven. O trying hour for thee! Tyre mocked when Salem fell; where now is Tyre? Heaven was against her. Nations thick as waves, Burst o'er her walls, to Ocean doomed and fire: 25 And now the tideless water idly laves Her towers, and lone sands heap her crowned merchants' graves. (1836) THOMAS HOOD (1798-1845) FAIR INES O saw ye not fair Ines? She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Take her up tenderly, Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; 7༠ 75 Then, if you can! Yet, than all other? Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Ere her limbs frigidly Decently, kindly, Smooth and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity. Seeming estranged. 55 And leaving with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! 105 Where the lamps quiver (1844) So far in the river, With many a light From window to casement, From garret to basement, She stood with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river: Mad from life's history, |