The world is all before me; I but ask Of Nature that with which she will comply

It is but in her summer's sun to bask, To mingle with the quiet of her sky, To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy. She was my early friend, and now shall be My sister till I look again on thee.

I can reduce all feelings but this one, And that I would not;—for at length I see Such scenes as those wherein my life be

Not thankless,- for within the crowded

sum

Of struggles, happiness at times would steal;

And for the present, I would not benumb My feelings farther. - Nor shall I conceal That with all this I still can look around, And worship Nature with a thought profound.

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For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart

I know myself secure, as thou in mine; We were and are-I am, even as thou art— Beings who ne'er each other can resign; It is the same, together or apart,

From life's commencement to its slow decline

We are entwined - let death come slow or fast,

The tie which bound the first endures the last!

'SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY'
[Publ. 1814]

SHE walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

'OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM'

OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear

10

Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:

Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,

A thought unseen, but seeing all,
All, all in earth, or skies display'd,
Shall it survey, shall it recall:
Each fainter trace that memory holds
So darkly of departed years,
In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all, that was, at once appears.

Before Creation peopled earth,

Its eye shall roll through chaos back;

And where the furthest heaven had birth,

The spirit trace its rising track.

And where the future mars or makes,
Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
While sun is quench'd or system breaks,
Fix'd in its own eternity.

Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
It lives all passionless and pure:

An age shall fleet like earthly year,
Its years as moments shall endure.
Away, away, without a wing,

ΤΟ

20

O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly;

A nameless and eternal thing,
Forgetting what it was to die.

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VISION OF BELSHAZZAR

THE King was on his throne,
The Satraps throng'd the hall;
A thousand bright lamps shone
O'er that high festival.
A thousand cups of gold,
In Judah deem'd divine-
Jehovah's vessels hold

The godless Heathen's wine!

In that same hour and hall,
The fingers of a hand
Came forth against the wall,
And wrote as if on sand;
The fingers of a man;-
A solitary hand
Along the letters ran,

And traced them like a wand.

The monarch saw, and shook,

And bade no more rejoice; All bloodless wax'd his look,

And tremulous his voice. 'Let the men of lore appear,

The wisest of the earth, And expound the words of fear, Which mar our royal mirth.'

Chaldea's seers are good,

But here they have no skill;
And the unknown letters stood
Untold and awful still.
And Babel's men of age

Are wise and deep in lore;
But now they were not sage,
They saw- but knew no more.

A captive in the land,

A stranger and a youth,
He heard the king's command,
He saw that writing's truth.
The lamps around were bright,
The prophecy in view;
He read it on that night, -
The morrow proved it true.

'Belshazzar's grave is made,
His kingdom pass'd away,
He, in the balance weigh'd,
Is light and worthless clay;
The shroud, his robe of state,
His canopy the stone:
The Mede is at his gate!

The Persian on his throne!'

And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award. 'Haroun when all the crowd that wait Are pass'd beyond the outer gate (Woe to the head whose eye beheld My child Zuleika's face unveil'd!), Hence, lead my daughter from her tower;

Her fate is fix'd this very hour:
Yet not to her repeat my thought;
By me alone be duty taught !'

'Pacha! to hear is to obey.'

No more must slave to despot say
Then to the tower had ta'en his way:
But here young Selim silence brake,

40

First lowly rendering reverence meet; And downcast look'd, and gently spake, Still standing at the Pacha's feet: For son of Moslem must expire, Ere dare to sit before his sire!

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'Son of a slave,' the Pacha said, From unbelieving mother bred, Vain were a father's hope to see Aught that beseems a man in thee. Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,

And hurl the dart, and curb the steed, Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed, Must pore where babbling waters flow, And watch unfolding roses blow. Would that yon orb, whose matin glow Thy listless eyes so much admire, Would lend thee something of his fire! Thou, who wouldst see this battlement By Christian cannon piecemeal rent; Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall Before the dogs of Moscow fall,

Nor strike one stroke for life and death
Against the curs of Nazareth!

Go let thy less than woman's hand
Assume the distaff - not the brand.

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But, Haroun ! to my daughter speed: And hark of thine own head take heed

If thus Zuleika oft takes wing
Thou see'st yon bow it hath a string!'

V

No sound from Selim's lip was heard, At least that met old Giaffir's ear, But every frown and every word Pierced keener than a Christian sword. 'Son of a slave! - reproach'd with fear!

Those gibes had cost another dear. ΔΙΟ