XLVI. AFFLICTIONS OF ENGLAND. HARP! couldst thou venture, on thy boldest string, Of dread Jehovah; then should wood and waste Of which the Lord was weary. Weep, O weep! PART III. FROM THE RESTORATION TO THE PRESENT TIMES. I. I SAW the figure of a lovely Maid Seated alone beneath a darksome tree, Set off her brightness with a pleasing shade. No Spirit was she; that my heart betrayed, But while I gazed in tender reverie, (Or was it sleep that with my Fancy played?) at length the golden hair, Shape, limbs, and heavenly features, keeping pace II. PATRIOTIC SYMPATHIES. LAST night, without a voice, that Vision spake Thou, too, dost visit oft my midnight dream ; If thou hast fallen, and righteous Heaven restore III. WHо comes, CHARLES THE SECOND. with rapture greeted, and caress'd With frantic love, his kingdom to regain? To wantonness. Away, Circean revels! But for what gain? if England soon must sink Into a gulf which all distinction levels, That bigotry may swallow the good name, And, with that draught, the life-blood: misery, shame, By Poets loathed; from which Historians shrink! IV. LATITUDINARIANISM. Yet Truth is keenly sought for, and the wind Charged with rich words poured out in thought's defence; Whether the Church inspire that eloquence, Or a Platonic Piety confined To the sole temple of the inward mind; And one there is who builds immortal lays, Though doomed to tread in solitary ways, Sad thoughts; for from above the starry sphere Shines through his soul,-"that he may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight." V. WALTON'S BOOK OF LIVES. THERE are no colors in the fairest sky So fair as these. The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing. With moistened eye We read of faith and purest charity In Statesman, Priest, and humble Citizen: - Methinks their very names shine still and bright; Around meek Walton's heavenly memory. VI. CLERICAL INTEGRITY. NOR shall the eternal roll of praise reject As men the dictates of whose inward sense VII. PERSECUTION OF THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS. WHEN Alpine vales threw forth a suppliant cry, The majesty of England interposed And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed; And Faith preserved her ancient purity. How little boots that precedent of good, Scorned or forgotten, thou canst testify, Fer England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood, |