There rose a Carlo Dolce or a Titian, Or wilder group of savage Salvatore's There danced Albano's boys, and here the sea shone · His brush with all the blood of all the sainted. There sweetly spread a landscape of Loraine; Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic Anchorite :- Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight: His bell-mouthed goblet makes me feel quite Danish Or Dutch with thirst-What ho! a flask of Rhenish. OCEAN. Oh! that the Desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair Spirit for my minister, That I might all forget the human race, In deeming such inhabit many a spot? Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, * Salvator Rosa. From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin-his control Stops with the shore ;-upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. 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 despise, 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 him lay. The armaments which thunder-strike 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. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save theeAssyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts:—not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' playTime writes no wrinkle on thine azure browSuch as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, 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. And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers-they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror-'twas 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. 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 lit My midnight lamp-and what is writ, is writWould it were worthier! but I am not now That which I have been-and my visions flit Less palpably before me—and the glow Which in my spirit dwelt, is fluttering, faint, and low. PARISINA'S MEETING WITH HER LOVER. And what unto them is the world beside, They only for each other breathe; Alas! we must awake before We know such vision comes no more. FATRIOT MARTYRS. They never fail who die In a great cause: the block may soak their gore; But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years The world at last to freedom! What were we, WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE. Dear object of defeated care! Thine image and my tears are left. 'Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope; THE PIRATES' SONG. "O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, |