of many colours? get thee fruit, or steal from heaven old Orpheus' lute? all these I'll venture for, and more, to do her service all these woods adore. Holy Virgin, I will dance round about these woods as quick VAIL, old patrician trees, so great and good! HAI Η Hail, ye plebeian underwood, where the poetic birds rejoice, and for their quiet nests and plenteous food Here Nature does a house for me erect, who those fond artists does despise that can the fair and living trees neglect, Here let me, careless and unthoughtful lying, and the more tuneful birds to both replying, A silver stream shall roll his waters near, on whose enamelled bank I'll walk, and see how prettily they smile, and hear 471 Ah! wretched and too solitary he, to help to bear't away. O solitude, first state of humankind, thou break'st and tam'st th' unruly mind, Thou the faint beams of reason's scatter'd light dost multiply the feeble heat, and fortify the strength, till thou dost bright ODE TO LIBERTY A. COWLEY HO shall awake the Spartan fife, WHO and call in solemn sounds to life, the youths, whose locks divinely spreading, at once the breath of Fear and Virtue shedding, shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest, at Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing, (what place so fit to seal a deed renowned?) till she her brightest lightnings round revealing, it leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound? O goddess, in that feeling hour, when most its sounds would court thy ears, let not my shell's misguided power e'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears. No, Freedom, no! I will not tell, how Rome, before thy weeping face with heaviest sound a giant-statue fell, push'd by a wild and artless race from off its wide ambitious base, when Time his northern sons of spoil awoke, and all the blended work of strength and grace with many a rude repeated stroke and many a barbarous yell to thousand fragments broke. W. COLLINS ET, even whene'er the least appeared, 472 YET, the admiring world thy hand revered; in jealous Pisa's olive shade! see small Marino joins the theme to sad Liguria's bleeding state. Ah no! more pleased thy haunts I seek, the perfect spell shall then avail, 473 Beyond the measure vast of thought, saw Britain linked to his now adverse strand, F. S. II. 16 no sea between, nor cliff sublime and hoary, he passed with unwet feet through all our land. To the blown Baltic then, they say, the wild waves found another way, where Orcas howls, his wolfish mountains rounding; till all the banded west at once 'gan rise, a wide wild storm even nature's self confounding, withering her giant sons with strange uncouth surprise. This pillared earth so firm and wide, by winds and inward labours torn, in thunders dread was pushed aside, and down the shouldering billows borne, And see, like gems, her laughing train, the little isles on every side, Mona, once hid from those who search the main, where thousand elfin shapes abide, and Wight, who checks the western tide, for thee consenting Heaven has each bestowed, a fair attendant on her sovereign pride: to thee this blest divorce she owed, for thou hast made her vales thy loved, thy last abode! W. COLLINS 474 IN THE EXPOSTULATION N doubtful twilight Nature sleeps love only his pale vigil keeps, and I, the slave of love. Ah! cruel Julia, dare you brave the sea's engulfing tide? Torn from me by the tossing wave, So your fond lover can you cheat, Yet dread th' avenging wind's deceit― F. WRANGHAM 475 CHRISTIAN WARFARE OLDIER, go-but not to claim SOLD mouldering spoils of earth-born treasure, not to build a vaunting name; not to dwell in tents of pleasure; dream not that the way is smooth, hope not that the thorns are roses; thou hast sterner work to do, Soldier, rest-but not for thee spreads the world her downy pillow; such a charge as thou dost keep girded, grasping sword and shield: those thou canst not name or number Soldier, rise—the war is done: lo, the hosts of hell are flying; soldier, lay thy weapons down, C. ELIZABETH |