She weeps not for the wedding-day Her hope was a farther-looking hope, He was a tree that stood alone, Long, long in darkness did she sit, And her first words were, " Let there be The stately priory was reared; And the lady prayed in heaviness Oh! there is never sorrow of heart And Canute (truth more worthy to be known) Now hear what one of elder days, Rich theme of England's fondest praise, Her darling Alfred, might have spoken; To cheer the remnant of his host When he was driven from coast to coast, Distressed and harassed, but with mind unbroken: "My faithful followers, lo! the tide is spent ; That rose, and steadily advanced to fill The shores and channels, working nature's will Among the nazy streans that backward went, And in the sluggish pools where ships are pent; And now, its task performed, the flood stands still At the green base of many an inland hill, In placid beauty and sublime content! Such the repose that sage and hero find; Such measured rest the sedulous and good Of humbler name; whose souls do, like the flood Of ocean, press right on; or gently wind, Neither to be diverted nor withstood, A FACT, AND AN IMAGINATION; Until they reach the bounds by Heaven as OR, CANUTE AND ALFred. THE Danish conqueror, on his royal chair, Mustering a face of haughty sovereignty, To aid a covert purpose, cried-"Oh, ye Approaching waters of the deep, that share With this green isle my fortunes, come not where Your master's throne is set !"-Absurd decree ! A mandate uttered to the foaming sea Whose everlasting law, sea, earth, and heaven obey. This just reproof the prosperous Dane For some whose rugged northern mouths would strain At oriental flattery; U signed." "A little onward lend thy guiding hand To these dark steps, a little further on!" What trick of memory to my voice hath brought This mournful iteration? For though Time, The conqueror, crowns the conquered, on this brow Planting his favourite silver diadem, To run before him, hath enrolled me yet, Though not unmenaced, among those who lean Upon a living staff, with borrowed sight. The cheerful dawn, brightening for me the east; For me, thy natural leader, once again Thy nymph-like step swift-bounding o'er the lawn, Along the loose rocks, or the slippery verge Of foaming torrent.-From thy orisons Come forth; and, while the morning air is yet Transparent as the soul of innocent youth, Let me, thy happy guide, now point thy way, And now precede thee, winding to and fro, Kindles intense desire for powers withheld From this corporeal frame; whereon who stands, Is seized with strong incitement to push forth His arms, as swimmers use, and plungedread thought! For pastime plunge into the "abrupt abyss," Where ravens spread their plumy vans, at ease! | More awful, where advancing hand in hand We may be taught, O darling of my care! To calm the affections, elevate the soul, And consecrate our lives to truth and love. SEPTEMBER, 1819. THE Sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields And, sooth to say, yon vocal grove, For that from turbulence and heat This, this is holy;-while I hear But list!--though winter storms be nigh, UPON THE SAME OCCASION. No faint and hesitating trill, Or rival, save the queen of night So pure, so bright, so fitted to embrace, On Dion's virtues, when the lunar beam |