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TO A REDBREAST
STAY, little cheerful robin! stay,
Though I, alas! may ne'er enjoy
A charm, that thought can not destroy,
Methinks that in my dying hour
Then, little bird, this boon confer,
Come, and my requiem sing,
Nor fail to be the harbinger
Of everlasting spring.
TO AN OCTOGENARIAN
AFFECTIONS lose their object; time brings forth
To thousands, share not thou; howe'er bereft,
One to whom Heaven assigns that mournful part
Still shall be left some corner of the heart
These lines are by the author of the address to the wind, etc., published heretofore along with my poems. Those to a redbreast are by a deceased female relative.
HARMONIOUS Powers with Nature work
Once did I see a slip of earth
(By throbbing waves long undermined)
Might see it, from the mossy shore
Float with its crest of trees adorned
On which the warbling birds their pastime take.
Food, shelter, safety, there they find;
And thus through many seasons' space
But Nature, though we mark her not,
Perchance when you are wandering forth
Upon some vacant sunny day,
Without an object, hope, or fear,
Thither your eyes may turn, the isle is passed
Buried beneath the glittering lake,
THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE
ERE the brothers through the gateway
Save he who came as rightful heir
Heirs from times of earliest record
Each at the appointed hour
Tried the Horn, it owned his power;
With his lance Sir Eustace pointed,
"What I speak this horn shall witness
Hear, then, and neglect me not!
The words are uttered from my heart,
"On good service we are going Life to risk by sea and land,
In which course if Christ our Saviour
Do my sinful soul demand,
Hither come thou back straightway,
Hubert, if alive that day;
Return, and sound the horn, that we
May have a living house still left in thee!"
"Fear not," quickly answered Hubert ;
What thou askest, noble brother,
To Palestine the brothers took their way.
Side by side they fought (the Lucies
Were a line for valour famed),
And where'er their strokes alighted,
There the Saracens were tamed.
Whence, then, could it come? the thought,
By what evil spirit brought?
Oh! can a brave man wish to take
His brother's life, for lands' and castle's sake?
"Sir!" the ruffians said to Hubert,
Months passed on, and no Sir Eustace!
None could tell if it were night-time,
And bright the lady is who shares his bed.
Likewise he had sons and daughters;
At his board by these surrounded,
And while thus in open day
Once he sate, as old books say,
A blast was uttered from the horn,
Where by the castle-gate it hung forlorn.
'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace!