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"Ah vain desire!" he cries, 66

no more mine eye "Shall mark that calm abode and tranquil sky; "The wrathful elements, around me rave; "No friend to comfort me, no power to save!

Why did I seek mid wilds like these to stray? "And why disdain the perils of the way?

"My Children now shall mourn, no Father near ! "My wife shall drop the unavailing tear!

"Cold chills of death creep through my shivering form! "MARKOFF, thy hour is come! Thou pitiless storm,

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Spare me one moment! keep thy wrath above!

""Tis hard to die, far from the friends we love!"
Once more he thought upon his home, and sigh'd!
Once more he cast a look on every side!

What forms are those which through the plain below,
Speed undiverted, scatt'ring wide the snow?
It is a band of *Sable Hunters, bold;

*The hunting of the Sable is attended with great danger, as the Animal is found only in the most northern latitudes; and the instances which have occurred of individuals and even companies being frozen to death, are infufficient to intimidate others from following the same hazardous occupation. The Hunters set forward, in summer, in bands of, from five to forty,

Rise! MARKOFF, rise! shout, ere thy heart be cold!
He calls! they heed him not! more loud he calls!
They hear a voice! the sound each breast appals !
They pause they look around! they see his face!
They haste the lonely wand'rer to embrace !
Safe in their sledge he seeks his native vale,
And warns each venturous traveller by his tale,

dragging their boats up the great rivers as far as possible; when they wait for the setting-in of the frost, before they can use their sledges and penetrate farther north in quest of the Sables. (Their only guides on these occasions are the single trees, alluded to in a former part of the poem) The chief danger arises in not returning from these inhospitable regions before the extremity of winter, as the cold is then intolerable; and which avarice often prevents them from doing; when their bodies are sometimes discovered by the Hunters of the following Autumn.



From his Urn now Aquarius his waters is pouring,
And the traces of Autumn are all fled away;
Hark! the hollow-ton'd blast, at dread intervals roaring,
Seems to chant a sad requiem o'er Nature's decay!

Late the eye gazed enraptur'd on vales, where with lustre Bright beaming fair Ceres so beauteously smil'd; Where the deep-blushing fruit hung in many a cluster, Now far, far extends a waste cheerless and wild.

The trees, in whose shades once the heart grew elater, Have long cast their honors on earth's naked breast, On the ear no more vibrates the music of nature,

Save the chirping of winter's sweet rose-bosom'd guest.

But Spring, round her brows a green chaplet entwining, Ere long with wild flowrets shall tapestry the grove; And all the plum'd warblers, their descants combining, Shall welcome the season of joyance and love.




The SCENE, a desolated Tract in La Vendee.-FAMINE is discovered lying on the ground: to her enter FIRE and SLAUGHTER


Sisters! Sisters! who sent you here?


I will whisper it in her ear.

No! no! no!


Spirits hear what Spirits tell,

"Twill make an holiday in Hell.
No! no! no!

Myself I nam'd him once below,

And all the souls, that damned be,

Leapt up at once in anarchy,

Clapp'd their hands and danced for glec.

They no longer heeded ME;

But laugh'd to hear Hell's burning rafters
Unwillingly re-echo laughters!
No! no! no!

Spirits hear what Spirits tell,
'Twill make an holiday in Hell!


Whisper it, Sister! so and so!
In a dark hint, soft and low.


Letters four do form his name

And who sent you?


The same! the same!


He came by stealth, and unlock'd my den,
And I have drank the blood since then

Of thrice three hundred thousand men.

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Letters four do form his name.

He let me loose, and cry'd Halloo!

To him alone the praise is due.

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