HERE pause: the poet claims at least this praise, That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope In the worst moment of these evil days;
From hope, the paramount duty that Heaven lays, For its own honour, on man's suffering heart. from our souls one truth depart, - That an accursed thing it is to gaze
On prosperous tyrants with a dazzled eye;
Nor-touch'd with due abhorrence of their guilt For whose dire ends tears flow, and blood is spilt, And justice labours in extremity-
Forget thy weakness, upon which is built, O wretched man, the throne of tyranny!
THE FRENCH ARMY IN RUSSIA.
HUMANITY, delighting to behold A fond reflection of her own decay, Hath painted Winter like a traveller old, Propp'd on a staff, and, through the sullen day, In hooded mantle, limping o'er the plain,
As though his weakness were disturb'd by pain: Or, if a juster fancy should allow
An undisputed symbol of command, The chosen sceptre is a wither'd bough, Infirmly grasp'd within a palsied hand. These emblems suit the helpless and forlorn; But mighty Winter the device shall scorn.
For he it was - dread Winter! - who beset, Flinging round van and rear his ghastly net, That host, when from the regions of the Pole They shrunk, insane ambition's barren goal,- That host, as huge and strong as e'er defied Their God, and placed their trust in human pride! As fathers persecute rebellious sons,
He smote the blossoms of their warrior youth;
He call'd on Frost's inexorable tooth
Life to consume in Manhood's firmest hold;
Nor spared the reverend blood that feebly runs;
For why, -unless for liberty enroll'd
And sacred home, ah! why should hoary Age be bold?
Fleet the Tartar's reinless steed,
But fleeter far the pinions of the Wind,
Which from Siberian caves the Monarch freed, And sent him forth, with squadrons of his kind, And bade the Snow their ample backs bestride, And to the battle ride.
No pitying voice commands a halt,
No courage can repel the dire assault: Distracted, spiritless, benumb'd, and blind, Whole legions sink, and in one instant find Burial and death: look for them,- and descry, When morn returns, beneath the clear blue sky, A soundless waste, a trackless vacancy!
YE Storms, resound the praises of your King! And ye mild Seasons, in a sunny clime, Midway on some high bill, while father Time. Looks on delighted, meet in festal ring, And loud and long of Winter's triumph sing! Sing ye, with blossoms crown'd, and fruits, and flowers Of Winter's breath surcharged with sleety showers, And the dire flapping of his hoary wing!
Knit the blithe dance upon the soft green grass; With feet, hands, eyes, looks, lips, report your gain; Whisper it to the billows of the main,
And to th' aërial zephyrs as they pass,
That old decrepit Winter-He hath slain That Host which render'd all your bounties vain!
BY Moscow self-devoted to a blaze
Of dreadful sacrifice; by Russian blood Lavish'd in fight with desperate hardihood; Th' unfeeling Elements no claim shall raise To rob our Human-nature of just praise For what she did and suffer'd. Pledges sure Of a deliverance absolute and pure
She gave, if Faith might tread the beaten ways Of Providence. But now did the Most High Exalt His still small voice;-to quell that Host, Gather'd His power, a manifest ally;
He, whose heap'd waves confounded the proud boast Of Pharaoh, said to Famine, Snow, and Frost,
"Finish the strife by deadliest victory!"
OCCASIONED BY THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. FEBRUARY, 1816.
THE Bard whose soul is meek as dawning day,
Yet train'd to judgments righteously severe,
Fervid, yet conversant with holy fear, As recognising one Almighty sway;
He whose experienced eye can pierce th' array Of past events; to whom, in vision clear, Th' aspiring heads of future things appear, Like mountain-tops whose mists have roll'd away; Assoil'd from all encumbrance of our time, He only, if such breathe, in strains devout Shall comprehend this victory sublime; Shall worthily rehearse the hideous rout, The triumph hail, which from their peaceful clime Angels might welcome with a choral shout!
MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT. ON LANDING AT CALAIS. 1820.
'TIS said, fantastic ocean doth enfold
The likeness of whate'er on land is seen; But, if the Nereid Sisters and their Queen, Above whose heads the tide so long hath roll'd, The Dames resemble whom we here behold, How fearful were it down through opening waves To sink and meet them in their fretted caves, Wither'd, grotesque, immeasurably old,
And shrill and fierce in accent!-Fear it not: For they Earth's fairest daughters do excel; Pure undecaying beauty is their lot; Their voices into liquid music swell, Thrilling each pearly cleft and sparry grot, The undisturb'd abodes where Sea-nymphs dwell! BRUGÈS.
THE Spirit of Antiquity - enshrined
In sumptuous buildings, vocal in sweet song, In picture speaking with heroic tongue, And with devout solemnities entwined- Mounts to the seat of grace within the mind: Hence Forms that glide with swan-like ease along, Hence motions, even amid the vulgar throng, To a harmonious decency confined:
As if the streets were consecrated ground, The city one vast temple, dedicate To mutual respect in thought and deed; To leisure, to forbearances sedate;
To social cares from jarring passions freed; A deeper peace than that in deserts found!
INCIDENT AT BRUGES.1
IN Brugès town is many a street Whence busy life hath fled; Where, without hurry, noiseless feet The grass-grown pavement tread. There heard we, halting in the shade Flung from a Convent-tower, A harp that tuneful prelude made To a voice of thrilling power.
The measure, simple truth to tell, Was fit for some gay throng; Though from the same grim turret fell The shadow and the song.
When silent were both voice and chords, The strain seem'd doubly dear, for English words Had fallen upon the ear.
It was a breezy hour of eve;
And pinnacle and spire Quiver'd and almost seem'd to heave, Clothed with innocuous fire; But, where we stood, the setting Sun, Show'd little of his state; And, if the glory reach'd the Nun, 'Twas through an iron grate.
Not always is the heart unwise, Nor pity idly born,
If even a passing stranger sighs For them who do not mourn. Sad is thy doom, self-solaced dove, Captive, whoe'er thou be!
O! what is beauty, what is love,
And opening life to thee?
Such feeling press'd upon my soul, A feeling sanctified
By one soft trickling tear that stole
From the Maiden at my side: Less tribute could she pay than this, Borne gaily o'er the sea, Fresh from the beauty and the bliss Of English liberty?
FOR THE BOATMEN, AS THEY APPROACH THE RAPIDS UNDER THE CASTLE OF HEIDELBERG.
JESU! bless our slender Boat,
By the current swept along; Loud its threatenings, let them not Drown the music of a song Breathed Thy mercy to implore, Where these troubled waters roar!
Saviour, for our warning, seen
Bleeding on that precious Rood; If, while through the meadows green Gently wound the peaceful flood, We forgot Thee, do not Thou Disregard thy Suppliants now!
Hither, like yon ancient Tower
Watching o'er the River's bed, Fling the shadow of Thy power,
Else we sleep among the dead; Thou who trodd'st the billowy sea, Shield us in our jeopardy!
Guide our Bark among the waves; Thro' the rocks our passage smooth, Where the whirlpool frets and raves Let Thy love its anger soothe: All our hope is placed in Thee; Miserere Domine!
NEAR THE OUTLET OF THE LAKE OF
Aloys Reding was Captain-General of the Swiss forces, which, with a courage and perseverance worthy of the cause, op- posed the flagitious and too successful attempt of Buonaparte to subjugate their country.
AROUND a wild and woody hill A gravell'd pathway treading,
We reach'd a votive Stone that bears The name of Aloys Reding.
1 This occurred at Brugès in 1828. Mr. Coleridge, my daughter, and I made a tour together in Flanders, upon the Rhine, and returned to Holland. Dora and I, while taking a walk along a retired part of the town, heard the voice as here de- scribed, and were afterwards informed it was a Convent in which were many En- The Sun regards it from the West; glish. We were both much touched, I And, while in summer glory might say affected, and Dora moved as appears in these verses.-Author's Notes, He sets, his sinking yields a type 1843. Of that pathetic story:
Well judged the friend who placed it there For silence and protection; And haply with a finer care of dutiful affection.
And oft he tempts the patriot Swiss Amid the grove to linger;
Till all is dim, save this bright Stone Touch'd by his golden finger.
COMPOSED IN ONE OF THE CATHOLIC CANTONS.
DOOM'D as we are our native dust To wet with many a bitter shower, It ill befits us to disdain
The altar, to deride the fane, Where simple Sufferers bend, in trust To win a happier hour.
I love, where spreads the village lawn, Upon some knee-worn cell to gaze: Hail to the firm unmoving cross, Aloft, where pines their branches toss! And to the chapel far withdrawn, That lurks by lonely ways!
Where'er we roam, -along the brink Of Rhine, or by the sweeping Po, Thro' Alpine vale, or champain wide,— Whate'er we look on, at our side Be Charity! to bid us think, And feel, if we would know.
OH Life! without thy chequer'd scene Of right and wrong, of weal and woe, Success and failure, could a ground For magnanimity be found; For faith, 'mid ruin'd hopes, serene? Or whence could virtue flow?
Pain enter'd through a ghastly breach; Nor while sin lasts must effort cease; Heaven upon Earth's an empty boast; But, for the bowers of Eden lost, Mercy has placed within our reach A portion of God's peace.
OUR LADY OF THE SNOW. MEEK Virgin Mother, more benign Than fairest Star, upon the height Of thy own mountain, 2 set to keep Lone vigils through the hours of sleep, What eye can look upon thy shrine Untroubled at the sight?
2 Mount Righi, that is, the Queen Mountain.
THE CHURCH OF SAN SALVADOR, SEEN FROM THE LAKE OF LUGANO.
This Church was almost destroyed by lightning a few years ago, but the altar and the image of the Patron Saint were untouched. The Mount, upon the summit of which the Church is built, stands amid the intricacies of the Lake of Lugano; and is, from a hundred points of view, its principal ornament, rising to the height of 2000 feet, and, on one side, nearly perpendicular. The ascent is toilsome; but the traveller who performs it will be amply rewarded. Splendid fertility, rich woods and dazzling waters, seclusion and confinement of
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