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The stranger, slave, or savage; their

decay Has dried up realms to deserts: -- not so

thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves'

play; Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure

brow; Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

CLXXXIII
Thou glorious mirror, where the Al-

mighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed - in breeze, or gale, or storm,

1641 Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless, and

sublime The image of Eternity – the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy

slime The monsters of the deep are made; each

zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

CLXXXIV And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my of youthful sports was on thy breast to

be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward. From a boy

1650 I wanton'd with thy breakers — they to

me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror — 't was a pleasing

fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane - as I do here.

CLXXXV My task is done — my song hath ceased

my theme. Has died into an echo; it is fit The spell should break of this protracted

dream. The torch shall be extinguish'd which hath

1660 My midnight lamp- and what is writ,

is writ,

him lay.

CLXXX His steps are not upon thy paths, thy

fields Are not a spoil for him, - thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile

strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all de

spise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful

spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply

lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth:— there let

1620 CLXXXI The armaments which thunderstrike the

walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs

make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,These are thy toys, and, as the snowy

flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which

mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.

CLXXXII Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee

1630 Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what

are they? Thy waters wash'd them power while they

were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores

obey

joy

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• AND THOU ART DEAD, AS

YOUNG AND FAIR'

Since earthly eye but ill can bear
To trace the change to foul froin fair.

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(Publ. 1812]

I know not if I could have borne

To see thy beauties fade; Heu, quanto minus est cum reliquis versari The night that follow'd such a morn quam tui meminisse!

Had worn a deeper shade:

Thy day without a cloud bath pass'd,
And thou art dead, as young and fair And thou wert lovely to the last,
As aught of mortal birth;

Extinguish'd, not decay'd;
And form so soft, and charms so rare, As stars that shoot along the sky
Too soon return'd to Earth!

Shine brightest as they fall from high.
Though Earth received them in her bed,
And o'er the spot the crowd may tread As once I wept, if I could weep,
In carelessness or mirth,

My tears might well be shed, There is an eye which could not brook To think I was not near to keep A moment on that grave to look.

One vigil o'er thy bed;

To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, I will not ask where thou liest low,

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| To fold thee in a faint embrace, Nor gaze upon the spot;

Uphold thy drooping head;
There fowers or weeds at will may grow, And show that love, however vain,
So I behold them not:

Nor thou nor I can feel again.
It is enough for me to prove
That what I loved, and long must love, Yet how much less it were to gain,
Like common earth can rot;

Though thou hast left me free,
To me there needs no stone to tell,

The loveliest things that still remain, 'Tis Nothing that I loved so well.

Than thus remember thee!

The all of thine that cannot die Yet did I love thee to the last

Through dark and dread Eternity
As fervently as thou,

Returns again to me,
Who didst not change through all the past | And more thy buried love endears
Aud canst not alter now.

Than aught, except its living years.
The love where Death has set his seal,
Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,
Nor falsehood disavow:

STANZAS FOR MUSIC
And, what were worse, thou canst not see
Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

(Publ. 1816]

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The magnet of their course is gone, or only FARE THEE WELL

points in vain The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall

[Publ. 1816] never stretch again.

Alas! they had been friends in Youth :

But whispering tongues can poison truth : Then the mortal coldness of the soul like And constancy lives in realms above ;

And Life is thorny; and youth in vain; death itself comes down;

And to be wroth with one we love, It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not

Doth work like madness in the brain : dream its own;

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But never either found another That beavy chill has frozen o'er the foun

To free the hollow heart from paining tain of our tears,

They stood aloof, the scars remaining,

Like cliffs, which had been rent asunder; And though the eye may sparkle still, 't is

A dreary sea now flows between,
where the ice appears.

But neither beat, nor frost, nor thunder,
Shall wholly do away, I ween,

The marks of that which once hath been.' Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and

COLERIDGE's Christabel. mirth distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more

FARE thee well! and if for ever, their former hope of rest;

Still for ever, fare thee well! 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd

Even though unforgiving, never

'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but

Would that breast were bared before thee worn and grey beneath.

Where thy head so oft hath lain, Oh could I feel as I have felt, – or be what

| While that placid sleep came o'er thee

Which thou ne'er canst know again:
I have been,
Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er

Would that breast, by thee glanced over, many a vanish'd scene;

Every inmost thought could show ! 10 As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all

Then thou wouldst at last discover brackish though they be,

'T was not well to spurn it so. So, midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me.

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Though the world for this commend thee

Though it smile upon the blow,

Even its praises must offend thee,
STANZAS FOR MUSIC

Founded on another's woe:

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Yet I blame not the world, nor despise it,

Nor the war of the many with one If my soul was not fitted to prize it,

'T was folly not sooner to shun: And if dearly that error hath cost me,

And more than I once could foresee, I have found that, whatever it lost me,

It could not deprive me of thee. From the wreck of the past, which hath

perish'd, Thus much I at least may recall, It hath taught me that what I most cher.

ish'd Deserved to be dearest of all: In the desert a fountain is springing,

In the wild waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing,

Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

STANZAS TO AUGUSTA

[Publ. 1816] Though the day of my destiny 's over,

And the star of my fate hath declined, Tby soft heart refused to discover

The faults which so many could find; Though thy soul with my grief was ac

quainted, It shrunk not to share it with me And the love which my spirit hath painted

It never hath found but in thee.

EPISTLE TO AUGUSTA

[Publ. 1830]

Then when nature around me is smiling,

The last smile which answers to mine, 10 I do not believe it beguiling,

Because it reminds me of thine;

My sister! my sweet sister! if a name Dearer and purer were, it should be thine. Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim No tears, but tenderness to answer mine:

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