Less profoundly skilled in the prognostics of the sky. Crowd on others' brain, Waiting such repast, Thy inaugural strain Lavishly and fast ; Nor deny the wondering groves the knowledge that thou hast. Fill the air with speech, As does heaven with light, Till its fervour reach The very star-lit height Accessible, as yet, to nought but unrestricted sight! REFLECTIONS ON SHELLEY. Ut, mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urget, Qui sapiunt agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur. WHAT a type of confusion, yet further confounded, Whose morbid conceptions, however expounded, His Pegasus, poor little fanciful jockey, He rides up and down at so daring a rate, That oft in his flight he grows fearfully rocky, And then with Bellerophon shares a like fate. And who can lament his deserved prostration, Since having once reached unto heaven's vast steep, He wantonly held that the stars in creation Rolled on to his view like a huge flock of sheep! When goaded less on by inordinate phrensy, No better control has the bard of his steed; And yet will he court the defeat that attends the Unwary who mount one of high-mettled breed. Great fountain and head of the wildest emotions That ever yet raged in the deep-stricken breast! The tempest that howls on the wide spreading ocean's Rude bosom is not more untimely at rest. And the storm that once rends, with a shout of dread thunder, The bark we have chosen to glide o'er the main, Though it ravish the soul with unspeakable wonder, We never more wish to play round us again. And the spirit that wakes by intemperate rapture The heart that burns not with a juvenile flame. AN IMPRECATION. ON Earth's delusive toilsome way Have I the fair meridian past, And now I feel life's transient day The morning of existence teemed With promise of so bright a reign, That pleasures in succession seemed But love that prompts the warm desire It vainly struggles to conceal, Betrayed at length the quenchless fire I inly feel. And she who vowed that no control Should e'er disturb her pure design, Save that of her own spotless soul, Since deaf to mine Hath yielded to the sterner will Of those who plead that from above, They gain divine permission still To rule in love. And sweets that once profusely flowed And lent a charm that always glowed Throughout my song — I taste no more: on others now Those sweets like heavenly manna fall, And leave me but the cheerless vow My thoughts recal. Ye Fates! if ever yet ye poured Avenging wrath beyond the power Of soul-subduing fire and sword, In fiercest hour P |