XXII.

DECAY OF PIETY.

OFT have I seen, ere Time had ploughed my cheek,
Matrons and Sires-who, punctual to the call

Of their loved Church, on fast or festival

Through the long year the House of Prayer would seek:
By Christmas snows, by visitation bleak

Of Easter winds, unscared, from hut or hall
They came to lowly bench or sculptured stall,
But with one fervour of devotion meek.

I see the places where they once were known,
And ask, surrounded even by kneeling crowds,
Is ancient Piety for ever flown?

Alas! even then they seemed like fleecy clouds
That, struggling through the western sky, have won
Their pensive light from a departed sun !

XXIII.

COMPOSED ON THE EVE OF THE MARRIAGE OF A FRIEND IN
THE VALE OF GRASMERE.

WHAT need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,
These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace?
Angels of love, look down upon the place;
Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day!
Yet no proud gladness would the Bride display
Even for such promise :-serious is her face,

Modest her mien; and she, whose thoughts keep pace
With gentleness, in that becoming way

Will thank you.

Faultless does the Maid appear;

No disproportion in her soul, no strife:

But, when the closer view of wedded life
Hath shown that nothing human can be clear
From frailty, for that insight may the Wife
To her indulgent Lord become more dear.

XXIV.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHAEL ANGELO.

YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace, And I be undeluded, unbetrayed;

For if of our affections none find

grace

In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made
The world which we inhabit? Better plea
Love cannot have, than that in loving thee
Glory to that eternal Peace is paid,
Who such divinity to thee imparts

As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.
His hope is treacherous only whose love dies
With beauty, which is varying every hour;
But, in chaste hearts uninfluenced by the power
Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower,
That breathes on earth the air of paradise.

XXV.

FROM THE SAME,

No mortal object did these eyes behold

When first they met the placid light of thine,

And my Soul felt her destiny divine,

And hope of endless peace in me grew

bold:

Heaven-born, the Soul a heaven-ward course must hold ;

Beyond the visible world she soars to seek

(For what delights the sense is false and weak)

Ideal Form, the universal mould.

The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest

In that which perishes: nor will he lend

His heart to aught which doth on time depend. sense, unbridled will, and not true love,

'Tis

That kills the soul: love betters what is best,

Even here below, but more in heaven above.

XXVI.

FROM THE SAME. TO THE SUPREME BEING.

THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed

If Thou the spirit give by which I

My unassisted heart is barren clay,

pray :

That of its native self can nothing feed:
Of good and pious works thou art the seed,
That quickens only where thou say'st it may :
Unless thou shew to us thine own true way

No man can find it: Father! thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread;

The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of thee,
And sound thy praises everlastingly.